Nuts and Bolts, Nuts and Bolts, I got screwed...

This past Saturday I learned a very important lesson...well two lessons actually.

1. Curbs should be avoided at all times while driving. Stupid curbs. I not only slammed into a curb on Saturday night, but I also popped TWO tires in the process. TWO. So, my plans to go to Cambridge for Chinese and movies didn't happen. What did happen was that I spent 2 hours hemming and hawing over what to do...do I change one tire, do I leave my car, do I set my car on fire...?? Stupid, stupid curbs.

2. I learned the importance of buying new tires when your old ones are worn. *Please see learning point one for explanation.*

I have 4 brand new tires on my car now...and I have to say, they look pretty classy. The rims, however, are another story. It looks like some sort of rabid animal chewed all the way around the outer edge of my rims. Oh well. Luckily my car sustained little damage...what was damaged was my ego. I have always prided myself on being a very safe driver (minus ONE speeding ticket when I was going 90 in a 55..."I was going down a hill, officer"). Ever since moving to England, my pride has taken some pretty tough hits. The first incident occured last Janaury when a deer decided to jump out in front of my car on a foggy, British b-road. That deer had some springs in its legs, because instead of a dent in the front of my car, I somehow have the imprint of a deer butt on the top of my hood. Not sure how that happened, but I'm pretty sure its annoying. The next incident was between me and a low lying wooden fence. While my car did get a couple of scratches on it, I'm pretty sure the fence was worse. So, maybe thats one point Erin, zero points fence?

So, now that I have hit a deer, run into a wooden fence, and popped two tires, I am afraid that I can no longer pride myself on driving skills. But-I was able to change my tire and that counts for something, right?

Just another Sunday morning drive...

This past Sunday I drove my friend Holly to the airport where she was catching a plane to Madrid. Her flight was pretty early, so we were on the road at 5:45am. There was minimal traffic, which was definitely nice, the sun was out (amazing!), and we were enjoying a nice little conversation. While chatting, we both were distracted when we saw a car stopped on the other side of the motorway while its driver appeared to be jogging around the car in a pink jumpsuit. On closer inspection, as the driver turned so that he was facing us, we realized that the "pink jumpsuit" was in fact his pasty white skin reacting to the cold air and we had a full on frontal view of his "jiggly bits" as he jogged. Talk about not being able to look away from a train wreck. Holly and I didn't talk for a couple of minutes after our sighting...mostly because neither one of us wanted to believe that what we had seen actually happened. I don't particularly want to see any naked man jogging on the side of a motorway, in particular a brit with pasty white skin (although, Jude Law is pretty dreamy....). Even if Brad Pitt was jogging naked on the side of the road I would probably still throw up in my mouth a little bit.

So, the question of the day is...what is the deal with flashers!?! I was flashed by a man asking for "directions" when I was in middle school, my mom was flashed when she was a girl on her way to CCD (Catholic sunday school), and almost all of my friends have similar "flasher" experiences. A note to all men: We (women) REALLY, REALLY don't need to see your bits and bobs out in public...take a look down south and you will realize that that region of your world is NOT all that attractive to us women-folk.

Maybe the naked man I saw jogging by the A14 was simply trying to get a little exercise, maybe he was falling asleep at the wheel and was trying to wake himself up, or maybe he is just, well, a freak! Whatever the case, it is NEVER okay to jog naked. Never, ever, ever.

Good times.

When I was home in the states, I got to hang out with my good friend Lindsay for a couple of days. Lindsay lives just north of Boston and has an adorable Cockerspaniel puppy. We went to a beach on the North shore where her puppy, Scooter, ran around with other dogs and drank salt water (in Scooter's defense, he was only copying another dog). Scooter and his dog friend like to chase eachother around, and when doing this forget to look ahead of them to make sure they don't run into anything or anyone. Well, poor Lindsay lost in Scooters game of chase and was laid flat out after being run into by Scooter and another dog. One minute Lindsay was talking to us, the next she was FACE DOWN in the sand. Scooter paused and looked really really confused, then proceeded to lick Lindsays face while she was down. Luckily, nothing was damaged on Lindsay and Scooter seemed to have a great time. Nothing like watching a human get clotheslined by two dogs on a freezing beach!

When in Rome...

On a recent trip home to the states, I was fortunate enough to spend a couple of days in a little city called Worcester. Some may be familiar with this city from an Adam Sandler skit where Adam is a toll booth operator and says "Welcome to WOOOSTA" to every car that comes his way. Others may know Worcester from its review in Maxim magazine which dubbed it "the armpit of Massachusetts". Call it what you may, Worcester is the city where my extended family is from, and where my parents grew up.

Worcester is like many old factory towns in New England...some parts (or many) are run down, but it has a sort of...well..."charm" that is unmistakeable. The charm I am talking about comes in the form of Nascar t-shirt wearing, Marlboro light smoking, Budweiser drinking, good ole city folk. These "city folk" like to pahk their cahs in tha garage just as much as anyone else and Dunkin Donuts is the regular meeting place. If you are from Worcester and reading this-don't be offended. EVERY city I have been to has the same "charm"...it just varies in characteristics from region to region. You have the Chavs in England, Cholos in Mexico, red-necks in the south...etc, etc. Many of the people in Worcester (especially members of my family) are amazingly great people who are well educated and classy. But, the Worcester-ites that make for more interesting blog stories are the Bud drinkers.

Anyways-to get to the point of this close to pointless blog: My mom and I got to spend some quality time together in Worcester last week. Many of the days we spent together were a bit stressful since we had some family health issues going on. One morning, after working out at the gym, my mom and I decided to grab a bite (and coffee) at Dunkin Donuts and then head over to Shaws to pick up some groceries. My moms outfit was classic: faded blue tapered sweat pants and an oversized college sweatshirt. My outfit was equally as hideous. We had to capture the moment while cruising the aisles of Shaws. We had fun laughing at eachother and just being silly. We decided that we were just going along with the old saying "when in Rome, do as the Romans". Theres nothing like going back to your roots...

What I learned was that sometimes all you need is a pair of faded, tapered sweats and two oversized sweatshirts in order to forget about the stresses of life for a little while. And for the record, mom, those sweatpants will NEVER go out of style. (or maybe they already have?)

**Disclaimer: KCamp (mom) and I look MUCH better in person....I hope!

A new level of crazy.

I've always known that I can be a bit abnormal. Growing up in a house with two very, very clean-freakish parents (some may call them OCD), I have learned to truly enjoy cleaning. This is not to say that my house is spotless, even I have my limits (though I do like to have the vacuum trails on the carpet...NO footprints!). I love going to the grocery store and picking out cleaning products (oh, Kaboom, how I love thee), and I love the smell of a clean house. When I am done cleaning a room, I like to admire my work and enjoy the clean. I have grown attached to 409 since Jonathan and I moved to England. Maybe its the nesting instinct that comes with being newly married and living in a foreign country, or maybe its just me, but I love to use 409-daily.

Today, I was baking cookies to send to Jonathan and I wanted to spot clean the counter in-between batches. I reached down into the cabinet and grasped the 409 bottle. As I lifted the bottle, the top detached from the bottom half of the bottle, and lots of 409 spilled out on the floor. No joke, the first thought in my head was "my liquid gold, wasted!". I very rarely scare myself with my cleaning addiction, but today I begin the first step in my healing process. I admit the problem.

This isn't the first incident of crazy since my addiction has begun. A few months back I wanted to deep clean the master bathroom. The water in England is very hard and full of minerals, so the glass door on the shower is always a disaster. I always use Kaboom in the shower, but this time I thought I would attack the shower two-fold: a little Kaboom and a little Tilex (with bleach). I'm not a detail person, so reading the "warning" label on the back of the bottles seemed pointless to me. About 5 minutes into my cleaning, I noticed that I was getting light headed and felt "tingly". I turned the fan on and continued cleaning. I jumped in the shower after cleaning and became increasingly lightheaded. I quickly left the bathroom and read the back of the bottles. Turns out you shouldn't mix bathroom cleaning chemicals...especially when bleach is involved. Luckily, I didn't pass out, though I am pretty sure I lost some precious brain cells (and I don't have many to spare!). All I could think about after that event (other than the fact that I am an idiot) was that Jonathan could have come home from work to find me passed out on the bathroom floor with a bottle of bleach in one hand and Kaboom in the other...I would NEVER live that down.

Lesson of the day: Do NOT mix cleaning supplies...even if the end result is an amazing sparkly and clean shower door, its just not worth the loss of brain cells.

Bon Jour. Good Day. That's too expensive.

I recently returned home from a four day trip to Provence, France. This was the first trip of (hopefully) many to come while I have lots of girl bonding time. Provence was charming, beautiful and full of wine. The countryside is more barren than I expected, but considering that Provence is in the south of France on the coast of the Mediterranean, I guess it makes sense. All along the road were Cyprus trees, olive trees and, of course, vineyards. Despite very bad experiences in the past with the French people, more specifically with Parisians, I was very pleasantly surprised at the friendliness and overall demeanor of the residents that we met in the Provence region. While I hold steady to my opinion that French people (in general) are a little bit snotty, a little bit condescending and just a little too stuffy for my taste; I was amazed at how many town dwellers helped us to navigate our car (a large Sedan) through the tiny, twisting streets of the Town of Arles. Holly was a champion and did all of the town driving (mostly because I was a big baby and too scared to try). Despite dozens of turns that required Austin-Power turning skills, Holly did a fantastic job and even had some French "ground guides" show her the way.

The food in Provence was disappointing (for me at least). I am a moderately picky eater, so take what I say with a grain of salt. Many menus that we encountered were solely in French. 0 out of the 5 girls on the trip took French in high school, so ordering food was a "close your eyes and point" process. Some nights we were pleasantly surprised, and some nights we got jelly-fied eggplant appetizers, and sour cream with bitter chocolate for dessert. Lunches were great (we ate at little sandwich cafes) and snacks were amazing (chocolate croissants and nutella filled crepes made before your eyes by street vendors). The wine was also phenomenal. We found an old monastery called Chartreuse de Bonpas that featured a tour of its grounds and wine tasting for free if you bought a bottle. Buying a bottle was no problem, for any of us! At Bonpas we met a friendly French-man named Bruce who let us taste more wines than normal and also pointed out some cute towns in the area that we might want to check out. Chartreuse de Bonpas is definitely recommended for anyone in the Avignon (Provence) region.

Here's everywhere that we checked out on our trip:
-Les Baux (a charming medieval town on a hill)
-Arles
-La Isle sur la Sorgue ( a town known for selling Antiquities)
-Aix de Provence (a more modern city, with very charming streets filled with shops)
-Cassis (a beach town)
-Avignon
-Marseille (we only saw Marseille because we were lost trying to find the airport)

Jonathan was excited to hear about the trip, and was happy that my first trip was to a country that he feels no need to visit since he has already been. Thanks for serving J!

Au Revoir!

Two-wheeled bikes are for sissies.

Today was a day of firsts for me:

This morning, I road a one-wheeled bike that didn't move. No, not a unicycle-those are for scary clowns at carnival themed first-saturdays. I attended and somehow completed my first spinning class at the gym. I have successfully avoided this class for many, many years but was somehow persuaded to test it out today by a friend who will remain nameless (my quads will never forgive you, Shanna). The class was probably worse than I anticipated, but being the endorphin junkie that I am, I think I might just learn to like this masochistic aerobic experience. But, I am going to wait to make a final verdict once DOMS has set in (thats medical speak for painful, angry muscles after a workout).

This morning, prior to spnning class, I also volunteered to try out a "sport" yoga class. Now, when I am trying something new, I normally try to keep an open mind but yoga is one of those things that I have been judging for years. Yes, it seems to work for the celebrities that swear by it; but then again most of them think that carbs are theoretical food items that don't really exist. Yoga, to me, has always seemed like a touchy-feely wanna be work out. I like workouts that leave me drenched in sweat and exhausted. My opinions aside, I tried yoga with a semi-open mind. I figured that at best I would get a bit of a core workout, and at worst I would at least get a good stretch in. What I forgot is that I am about as flexible as a brick. Sit and reach always killed my dream in elementary and high school of getting the Presidential fitness award. The instructor was pretty nice and luckily didnt make us picture running through meadows with butterflies (which is what the instructor in my first yoga experience a year ago did). She led us through some positions and I have to admit that I couldnt handle some of the things she wanted us to do. I did get a nice little ab workout, but I didn't leave the class feeling "worked out". I did feel a little more limber after class, so all in all it was a good experience but one I am not sure I will repeat.

So, today was a pretty good day. While I may not have found my "chi" in yoga (is that something you can find?), I did get in a well rounded workout.

Ohm.