Life with My Intestines

Do you think I'll lose readers just by using the word 'intestines' in a blog title? Let's find out!

A few weeks ago I went in for a semi regular CT scan. Don't know what a CT scan is? Oh well, get excited! And join me on this journey. *Puts on cozy cardigan, hums 'Won't you be my neighbour?'*

1st step: You must fast four hours before you go in to the hospital. I chose an 8am appointment with the promise of coffee and croissants after. Even as an adult, bribery is a useful tool.

2nd step: De-robe. Luckily I have no shame and I take it as a challenge to flash as many people as possible while wiggling behind a curtain in a tiny, tiny cubicle they have designated as the changing room.

3rd step: Drink the juice.  Ahhhhhh berry barium! A delicious way to start your day! Looks a bit like watery milk...like even more watery than low-fat milk. And tastes of berry! Or if a small child vomited up berry flavoured milk and you decided you should waste-not, want-not and drink it because your hippiness has made you insane, that's what this tastes of. And someone put it in a cup. And maybe you drank it thinking it was just your regular 'ol milk. BUT IT'S NOT. I don't even like milk. Or berry flavoured drinks. I want the real berry not some weak ass imitation. But that is beside the point. Back to the berry flavoured vomit I needed to ingest. It's the perfect way to keep your svelte figure...because you fast before hand and then drink a liquid that makes the idea of vomiting seem like an enjoyable way to spend your day.

(And no coffee before hand either. Which is a CRUEL torture...you bastards.)

Thoughts that did occur to me while drinking da juice:
Oh look my gown has...flowers??...no wait...just weird patterns. What is this place? The hospital for poor people, can't even afford a decent gown? ....oh wait....I am poor. Thank you for taking care of me, kind sirs. Please, more gruel!

A thing that actually happened: My nurse laughed at me for yelling 'OW' when she stabbed me with the IV. She will not be invited to my birthday party.

Another thing that also happened: I huff mint while taking my barium solution. Because I am a goddamn pro. What? You didn't think to bring your own herbs to the hospital? Amateurs. (*Side note: mint, as well as many fine herbs, helps nausea. This barium solution on an empty stomach can make you feel like vomiting. BRING mint or ginger. Huff away. You're welcome.)

Side note: I never thought chugging beers or taking shots would come in handy as a viable life skill to have, but it really is when it comes to taking barium solution. Gotta chug a nasty drink in 15 minutes, so that you can take two more fifteen minutes apart. It's like slow-mo hazing. Then (step 4!) they give you a liquid in your IV that makes you feel like you're wetting yourself. That's right. It IS like a sophisticated hazing. What club do I get to join? The Pooper Scoopers? (That's funny to me for SO MANY reasons.)

5th Step: Taking pictures of your insides. I did not get to take a picture of them taking pictures of me. But I can tell you my radiologist was absolutely George Clooney. I mean, this is why you can't take pictures. But while I'm passing jokes back and forth with George, I get to lay on a table that takes me through a tunnel where a magical voice tells me when to take breaths. It's almost like yoga...expect for the part where you feel like you have to pee.

End note: You can always find time to Instagram your hospital visit. Or Snapchat (LindsayDinsyDay) it.

And here I am modeling the latest in hospital couture. The colorful pattern, while bright and distracting, still manages to convey to all admiring onlookers 'I am not wearing any underpants' #ootd #fashionblogger #gwhospital #crohnslyfe #ctscan #gangsta

Live, love, laugh,

Lindsay

P.S. Just wanted to end this post by saying that us fashion bloggers don't always show you what's real. Well. I'll give you a  little 'peek behind the curtain', so to speak.  The truth behind the above photo is that I actually was wearing underpants....but no bra. #realtalk #thisisme #therearenohashtagsinblogging #orspeaking #butwespeakthemanyways

New Year, New YOU! ....Probably Still Dreaming About Them Carbs Tho...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Noted: This outfit was a completely sober decision. Also, I like to smile. Smiling's my favourite. (Obviously my new Tinder photo.)

*WARNING: Much swearing and vulgarity to follow*

Ahhh a brand new year and a new chance to make a completely new you! Hopefully one who is 30 pounds lighter, smarter, faster, stronger, and can avoid all free donuts at the office. 

We can dream, can't we?

I love New Years. Most of all because it's the perfect time to go on a diet. Millions of people around the world are right there with you. Either you're failing together, or you get to be SMUG because YOU DID IT. (So what if you tried to eat your pillow last night when you were dreaming about doughnuts? The wild and desperate look in your eye the next day only adds to your sex appeal!)

Being a model for Crohn's Disease means that I'm trying out a diet before my usual January colonoscopy. (Are you SO EXCITED for those details?! I AM!) I want my GI doctor to go in and come out saying 'I've never seen such beautiful intestines! Spotless!' I mean, if I could lose weight on this diet awesome, but I'm always aiming for the happy, beautiful on the inside(of my intestines) look.

Whole30 is the name of the game. I mean, if you want to be cool about it, it's #Whole30 #Whole30crew #Whole30ohmygodwhencanIhavetoast #NEVER #Imeanitsonly30days

I'm doing real good so far. I only just resorted to stress-eating a mashed banana with dry roasted pecans on top. Like a goddamn lady. Early I had attempted to make some homemade mayo. "All you do is mix these things" they said, "it's so simple" they said. Well you can suck it (not you Julia Child, you're lovely and I appreciated all your side tips and advice that nobody else gave.) 

I failed twice. Two things I hate wasting: time and food. My results were just a tangy liquid. Not what I was hoping for. Advice and tips encouraged, folks. Keep in mind, I do not have an emulsifier blender....though if you have one, feel free to give it to me. I was working with the hand mixer. Maybe next time I should go hardcore Julia Child method and whisk by hand!

Anyways. My other New Years Resolutions are going quite well. My only real firm one every year: floss more. You just can't go wrong there. 

I went a little crazy this year and made a list of eight things to work on. Here they are:

1. Floss, it deserves repeating.

2. None of your business.

It may involve multiple forms of therapy.

3. Be healthier.

4. Reduce flare-ups. Had two before NYE and I am not okay with that.

5. Read more. But also no buying new books. I must read all that I own, or make use of this really cool thing called a LIBRARY. My sister is going to be a librarian someday soon and I figure I should probably support her in her field. 

6. None of your business.

It may, or may not, be related to this saucy photo. 

7. Pursue delight. (Which also includes pursuing things that make me laugh.)

8. No booze January. (In relation to my diet, this is much easier! I enjoy my nightly tea. Although I did swoon a little when I turned down a scotch at a friends house. I held strong though. Smugness will be mine!)

There. Isn't that lovely. Obviously the 'none of your business' ones must pertain to drugs, sex and rock 'n' roll. I mean, I'm so cool like that, clearly. *See first picture above for reference*

Whole30 hasn't said much about heroin use, so I'm pretty excited to get going.

..

...

.....

I am kidding, Mom. Seriously. Have you seen Requiem for a Dream? I saw that at 15 and oh my god, that will keep me church girl clean till I'm 80. After 80 all bets are off.

What are your New Years Resolutions? If you need to borrow one of mine, I highly recommend number 1. Dental work is expensive and so, so horrible.

Lots of love, stay off drugs,

Lindsay

When You Need A Little More Happy

I woke up this morning at 4:33am because I was having a nightmare. With the state of the world right now, is it any surprise? Actually, it is a surprise. My nightmare was about being attacked in bed by a snowshoe crab.

A crab.

I'm not even entirely sure I know what a snowshoe crab looks like...is that even a thing...'snowshoe crab'? I'm sure I've heard it before... and I'm sure as hell not going to Google it because it looked terrifying in my nightmare and I don't want to research it more. Someone else get on it. I'll describe it to you and you can tell me if that's what it looks like.

And that's besides the point. I was being attacked because my arm got caught underneath it and, as everyone knows (in the world of this dream) if you get underneath a snowshoe crab, it will attack. My mother was not five feet away on the phone, distracted, and I could not get her attention to grab me a spoon.

Because everyone knows that a shiny spoon distracts the snowshoe crab. You gotta get the back of the spoon underneath the eyes and mouth of the crab and it calms right down, like a baby. (That's a thing right? Babies like shiny things and calm right down when they have them. Kind of like how I am with pizza and wine.)

I hope my brother and sister-in-law aren't reading this because I really want to babysit my nephew and I'm not entirely sure I'm making a very good case for myself.

ANYWAYS. I couldn't call out to my mother to get off the damn phone and get me a freaking spoon because my throat was dry and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't call out 'MOM'! I had to save my own damn self and pull myself out of the dream....

....then I searched quite dramatically around my bed for a crab (not there, thank goodness). And pulled up the news on my phone and proceeded to cry over the recent mass shooting out in California.

MY MORNING. SO FUN.

So I've decided to give myself an exercise in creativity. Everyday I will post something ridiculous and silly. Because I want my world to have more ridiculousness and silliness in it. I am tired about crying over mass shootings, home grown terrorists, ISIS terrorists, Trump, refugees, bombing Syria, and I am really sick of how much DAMN FREEDOM we give snowshoe crabs, letting them just go wherever they please and letting terror win. NO MORE CRABS.

I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to whatever poor marine biology student stumbled upon this post in search of more information on the snowshoe crab.

THEY ARE TERRIFYING. DO YOU HAVE A SPOON??

Right now here are 10 things that make me happy:

1. 'Tis the season for Elf. Thank goodness for that movie. It's wonderful and I'm going to watch it on Friday night, in a onesie, with pizza and wine. Then I'm gonna watch Home Alone. Because if Kevin McCallister can face the scary world, so can I.

2. This post that I wrote.  It's very silly and I love it. Also, I have come so far.

3. In order to save money for two trips to London next year (and also to fuel my Whole Foods addiction...*hangs head in shame*) I took on a part time dog walking job. It makes me so happy because everyday my clients (the dogs) are ECSTATIC to see me. "You're here?! For ME?! And we're WALKINGOMGGGGGGG!!!!" Who gets to have that much happy at their jobs? If you need a good laugh, I'd be happy to reenact the dog wiggle dance for you. Also, I have this one lab that can't handle how excited she is, so she lays down for a belly rub immediately when I come inside the house. Another dog, who is a very big black lab, gets so excited about a walk that he barks like a maniac then needs to go get a toy to calm himself down. Dogs are the kind of happy I want to be.

4. I'm going to go to London in February. This makes my heart very, very happy.

5. Coffee. I live in a world that has coffee.

6. My nephew is almost 9 months old and he is the cutest thing EVER. He's cuter than puppies, guys. I can't share pics cause he's anti-social media and that is OK. Just know that he'll melt your heart. And someday I'm going to teach him the very best swear words. Then he'll be the cutest, foulmouthed child. And I'll be so proud I could give something back to this world.

7. I actually got Candy Cane Joe-Joes this year. I'm already down one box and have another waiting in the wings.

8. I have two weddings next year that I am SO EXCITED about being in. Next summer is going to be stellar.

9. All the very best humans I know are reproducing. Which is real good. We need all the good humans we can get.

10. I thought at some point I would have gotten sick of Chipotle. Nope. Just tried out their Sofritas in a burrito bowl and it is all I can think about right now. WHEN can I have that again?? Despite recent issues they've had, it can't scare me away. You know, if you want to get me Christmas gifts this year, I would not be opposed to Chipotle gift cards. Seriously. One time in London, I went so frequently that the workers at the St. Martin's Lane location would just slip me a free burrito card because they knew how happy it would make me.


Okay. That's all for now. I'm going to go make some coffee and tackle some things for the day. Probably gonna carry a spoon around with me all day. Fucking crabs....

xxLindsay

London Food Love

LONDON I AM IN YOU.


All the happiness right now. I arrived on Tuesday and have been running wild since. And by running wild, I mean I deleted MyFitnessPal calorie tracker before I arrived and life since then...

has.

Been.

Glorious.

Fuck calorie counting.

Here's what I've been eating in London:

The required eating upon arrival in London. I have a fondness for this pub over by London Bridge.

Baked donuts in Shoreditch

They're baked and therefore healthy. Yes I ate both. I don't share, don't be ridiculous.

Discovering the wonderful filter coffee available at Rapha Cycle Club's cafe

 Fun fact: if you want to have a coffee like you would in America, that's a drip coffee. Sometimes called filter coffee. Though to a coffee aficionado (i.e. snob)*avoids eye contact*, filter and drip are very different things. There's drip, filter and pour over actually and all are different. Pour over is the best though. FACT.

Most places do not serve it as they have an espresso machine or they have instant coffee (which is disgusting, and you won't convince me otherwise). Neither of these options give you a drip or filter coffee (if you weren't aware). Places with an espresso machine will offer an Americano, specifically named because it's similar in style to what we drink in America. But it's just espresso diluted with hot water. I am not a huge fan, but it'll do in a pinch.

I have found that my beloved Jamie's Italian no longer serves pour over coffee in Greenwich and I was rejected from all other coffee shops there with a sneer every time I asked for filter coffee. I went into Rapha Cycle Club in Central London asking for an Americano and got the the most magical response:

'Americano? No, you really should try our filter coffee.'

I love them. The wedding will be next year, early June. There will be a reception that everyone is invited to and we'll be serving only filter coffee. And baked donuts. Obviously.


Now when I'm not on the search for the perfect coffee in London (which even I find slightly ironic considering I love everything about England. You'd think I'd be all about the tea every day. But seriously. Don't mess with my coffee intake. Even in England I must have my coffee), I can usually be found consuming wine and cheese and all the British foods.

Believe it or not, this was what I had in Blackheath prior to going to a friend's house for dinner. Don't underestimate my ability to pack it in.

Scotch Egg from The Gypsy Moth in Greenwich. One of my favourite British foods.

I still have many more places I plan on eating before the end of my trip. Many more. Though this week I plan on going super cheap. I'm doing lunch every day for under £10. It's really not that hard to do in London and I want to prove it. And I'm not talking about eating at the local Sainsbury's everyday either. (Puh-lease, I am totally an M&S girl.)

So here's to touristing, eating all the good stuff, and adventures with all the lovely people. (I'm 100% going to be eating dinner with this girl. She's my foodie soulmate. And my weirdo dark humor soulmate. We're just made for each other basically and someday I'm sure her and Sam will be adopting me. You can adopt a 30 year old child right??)

Nope. Not at all embarrassed to take the VERY tourist-y picture with a phone box.

xxLindsay

Wednesday: What I'm Lovin' On

I just made that up. That title probably makes it sound like this will be a weekly feature. It won't be. I'm not that organised...yet. Just you wait. Once I figure out how to be one of those organised people...WORLD DOMINATION. Till then I just have a few things I've been loving lately and I'd like to share.

1. Cheese. I was all "giving you up cheese for the week leading up to my London trip. You're in my life too much, f*ing with my calorie count for the day. How dare you." That lasted an agonising 36 hours. Silly me. Cheese is the best thing ever. NEVER LEAVE ME CHEESE. Especially you Gouda. And you, Aged Cheddar.

2. Bloggers on Snapchat. That's right folks. Bloggers are getting naked for followers. The end is nigh. ... I am totally kidding about that. I really don't want to know so much about a blogger that I can tell you what their bits look like., though I'm sure they're lovely. Bloggers are, in fact, using Snapchat to connect on the daily with their followers and I am digging it. Currently my favs are (listed as their Snapchat handle to easily add): poppyloves (Poppy Loves London),  omghellogemma (Hello Gemma), tricia_rosas (Patricia Parisienne), and patriciabfrance (Patricia Baret in France). And I'm not going to lie to you, I only read Poppy and Patricia B's blogs. Gemma and Patricia Parisienne I follow on Instagram. Some people I enjoy on Instagram best because they have so much going on that I can't keep up and instead I like to get little bits from them. Thank you Instagram/Twitter/Snapchat for limiting people. Snapchat story is such a quick sneaky peak into someone else's life. And if other bloggers want to start, even though you can't prove to others who's following you, it's still fun because you can see who is viewing your Snap stories. I am addicted.

I use my Snapchat to make only one really good ace joke a year. That's it. AND YOU MISSED IT. Maybe you should come be friends with me on Snapchat and not feel the fool next time: lindsaydinsyday

3.I'm heading to London next Monday night and will land on English soil on Tuesday morning. I AM SO DAMN EXCITED.

Me, on a visit in 2012

Plans are being made to hang out with friends and I have a very, very long list of food I need to eat. PRIORITIES! Food, then friends....I mean....friends than food. Preferably friends with food. Yeah, that'd be good.

4. I got a bike for my birthday and she is absolutely wonderful! Yes she. And yes she has a name: Bella Blu. Because I am just that kind of girl. Experiencing my corner of DC on a bike is making things a little bit brighter these days. And I need all the bright happy things I can get.

5. My little sister sending me photos of my family dog hard at work at the family business.

"Hello, Charles speaking..." "Umm sir, that's a banana." "Well that attitude is going to get you NOWHERE in this company! You have to beeeeeeelieve!"

6. My parents came down to DC recently to help my brother and his wife move apartments. I love having family down here. I don't want to live in upstate New York and wish my whole family would just move where ever I lived. So come on guys, let's all figure out UK visa's! Let's go!

Moving is hard. Moving requires beer.

7. Before my parents left we all had breakfast at Ted's Bulletin and I got to enjoy being the only person there on time for once. It's an amazing feeling not being the one who's late. I would like to make that feeling happen more often. Also I rewarded myself with coffee and a Ted's salted caramel tart. So. Freaking. Good. Their pastry tarts (technically a pop tart but I don't think they're allowed to call them that officially) have two or three main flavours all the time and then they have seasonal ones rotating. Salted caramel is a seasonal one and it was divine. Also, a sugar bomb. But once in a while is okay right?

Anything you're lovin' on right now? Especially food things. Send me your food porn on Snapchat....cause that's what it was created for right? RIGHT?!

In innocence, yours,
Lindsay
xx

Working From Home Means..

Things I have learned about working from home:

1. My housemates think that I don't own real clothes, just many, many types of pajamas.

2. If I am within 10-10,000 feet of the kitchen I will constantly be thinking about what I can eat next. So that is approximately always. The house isn't that big.

My housemate left me alone for an hour with her home baked cookies. Bad decision, Raven.  I get all kinds of crazy ideas when I'm on my own. DON'T LEAVE ME TO FEND FOR MYSELF.

3. After being in a room the size of a prison cell for two years in London, I frequently run up to my new room that is the size of TWO prison cells put together so I can admire, spin around, and clap my hands in delight like a deranged toddler. Also, somebody let me paint my room unsupervised....I made some art:

4. It is fairly impossible for me to do any work in the morning. But that can be a positive thing as I then turn around at lunch time and guilt myself into working out and doing loads of real work in the afternoon.

5. I am the nosy neighbour. I know which ones are at home during the day, which ones have children, and which house has the cute pit bull. I have popcorn at the ready for the moments when the neighbours want to argue with the DC tow truck drivers attempting to haul their vehicles away for over due parking tickets. I SEE IT ALL.

6. Making cushion forts is not that fun anymore since you have to clean it up yourself when you're done, because you are an adult now. And if you don't, everyone assumes you've been day drinking.

Sometimes I play around with my very first phone I had from when I was 15.  ... Yeah I may need to get out more.

7. I get sick and I do not live with my mother who would take care of me. Day drinking does occur as a form of self-medication. I present to you: Hot Toddy Deconstructed. Bourbon and hot tea will help just about any cold. No really. I read that somewhere.

There's a chance that I would act more like a normal human being if I held a regular 9-5 day job.

But let's not risk it, just in case.

xxLindsay

Meatless Monday...I Guess. If I Must.

Forgive me Bloggers Who Bake, for I have sinned.

Last night I became one of those people.

I gave an honest-to-god go at making a cookie in a cup. You know, the throw a bunch of ingredients into a cup and microwave it in a sad attempt to make a single serving of a cookie. In a cup.

It turned out embarrassingly awful. Never again. I'm just going to pretend that glutinous sin of cooking never happened.

Lately I have been trying to put in the effort to cook at home. One of those gallant affairs is now going to be thrown into ..... Meatless Mondays (sigh).

I know, I know. Don't worry. I'm still hardcore omnivore. Never fear, breakfast bacon, I still love you. But I clearly need to eat healthier and make better life choices.

Nobody should ever be faced with the option of making a cookie in a cup.

I've done a few of my Monday's meatless here in America, trying out the veggie lifestyle again. I'm definitely not clueless in this area. At least not as clueless as someone thinking a cookie in a cup is a good idea. Without adult baker supervision.

The many years of struggling with my Crohn's means I've tried a lot of different diets: vegetarianism, veganism and even Macrobiotics. None of them ever stuck. Probably because my body really, really needs those sweet B12 vitamins. Or just bacon full stop.

But I really want to be a better cook and I do care about the environment. Which means trying to be a little more veggie, a little more often. So here's what I've thrown together, mostly without recipe, and has turned out much less embarrassingly then the aforementioned Cookie Debacle.

Jacket Potato with cheese, roasted broccoli with lemon. Simple and straight to the point.

Art provided via my sexy, sleek camera....I mean my iPhone

I call the next one Pasta a la Wha Da Fuuuuck.....Is In This, Cause It's Amazing. (Working title)

Herbed goat's cheese, roasted red onion, sun dried tomatoes, spinach wilted in the hot pasta, dressing: garlic and ginger pressed, olive oil, fresh lemon juice.

Clearly I am picky about what kind of veggie meals I eat. I veer on the side of Mediterranean style or straight up pub food. Recipe suggestions welcome. Nothing too crazy where I have to purchase all kind of strange things. I like simple. Though maybe something a little more complicated the flour, egg, butter, sugar in a cup.

Never again.

xxLindsay

Things As Of Late

Right this very moment I am eating Stilton cheese infused with candied lemon peel and it is fucking delicious. I am also considering going to get a donut and coffee because those are two things DC does very well. (HOW MUCH have you missed my blog updates, world? I bet you've been sitting there thinking...'Gee, I wonder what Lindsay has eaten today or is considering eating?' Maybe you should check out my Instagram account, mmm? Lots of really horrible food pictures there. Lots of opportunity to be the creepy, creepy life stalkers we all know we are but only admit to in therapy.)

I want to get back into the blogging game as I've always taken such delight in it and some of my funniest material comes out best in blog format. Also, Amanda is back at the British Bake Off Bake Along blog posts (say that twenty times fast) and those are always my favourites. Which means I must get back into a regular blog reading, if not blog posting.

I am back in America and let me tell you....repatriating is a bitch. Language necessary. I hate it. It's worse then the first time I did it after my year abroad in college. But then again, the first time I repatriated back, I just turned 21 that summer, so many of those months were spent in a slight G&T haze of delight. So it couldn't have been as bad as this.

Things I did not expect:
-Dealing with a mild case of depression since I've been back. It sucks. It's tiring. Apparently it can be pretty common when you have a big life change. But this depression also means my creativity seems to have been sucked from me, making everything I use to love doing extremely difficult. I have many things planned to help myself get over this blue period, fear not.

-I did not expect to have a hard time making friends in a city where I have friends. Sometimes it feels like I'm auditioning for a role that I originated, but no one is quite sure if I can pull it off again. Even though the role is Me. Me As Your Friend. It's a weird place to be in, but I'm sure I'll work it out by getting real aggressive with my social calender. Or maybe I'll just stay home in my pjs and have a binge rewatch session of Doctor Who while eating bacon. Wait and see what happens. If suddenly I just balloon up, send for help.

-The American food is not as good as some of the American-style foods in England. I have yet to find a really, really delicious burger and I miss Byron so bad. What's up with that? I fully understand and accept that my citizenship may be revoked as a result of that statement.

-I moved back to DC and now weed is legal. WHATTHEWHAT? 4/20 was a day where AdMo neighbourhood spent handing out free seeds to grow (as you can't sell them legally). Now what I'd really like to know is....where's the lifestyle blog that's modelled for the weed lifestyle? Something quite girly in pink and white, with instructional how-to's on properly baking pot brownies for your gluten free guests. Maybe a nice Pinterst board all about matching your pipe to your outfit of the day? Who's with me on this?

-America is struggling with a lot of harsh stuff. We could see it all going down from England. The police shootings, public shoot ups, the war on women and their reproductive rights... It's a different thing seeing it from the US. In comparison, seeing it from the UK was like seeing The USA Issues Lite. I was not prepared for the amount of racism I've seen, or the fact that so many people really, really hate my womb, or.......the worst thing of all, now I won't be able to sneak food into movie theatres because they're doing bag checks for guns. It's a scary place being in, without an ocean between you and the Republican party.


Clearly, adjusting to being back here is taking me some time. I've set up a few things in order to help me along my path to feeling more comfortable here. I just started working for a farm one day a week and I get paid in vegetables!

I haven't a clue what half of these things are. Luckily, this is America. Everything can be fried.

Now I just need to find a place that will give me free donuts and coffee.

I'm starting volunteer training for a DC animal shelter soon as well. Thank god. I need a puppy fix in my life. Who doesn't need a puppy fix?

The other two things that are currently providing a big distraction from my malaise is two fitness challenges I just jumped right into without thinking much about (ahh that's the ol' Lindsay I know and love). I'm running a half marathon on October 31st in Philly because of reasons like: my aunt and my brother are running it, I want to buy a new running outfit for it, this is just an excuse to run long enough to need one of those gels that taste like velvety chocolate,  and also cause I don't really want to participate in the usual American Halloween revelry of getting piss ass drunk and making bad outfit decisions. I think I've made enough memories from those Halloweens of Old to keep me shuddering in embarrassment well into my 80s.

The second challenge is signing up for a charity walk in NYC with two of my college friends. Turns out....you have to actually train for this kind of walk as it is 39 miles in two days. For some reason in my head I thought, 'nooooo problem'. Well guess what I learned? RUNNING IS SO MUCH EASIER. I am dead serious. I'd rather run 10 miles then walk 10. I'm hurting in all kinds of new ways. It's weird. My feet are not happy. Also FUCK this weather, DC you suck. Humidity is no way to die, but DC sure is trying to MURDER ME.

I feel you should all take pity on me and donate to my walk. I pledged to raise $1800 but haven't gotten very far due to much of summer spent running around going 'it's not depression, it's hormones!' and my doctor saying 'it ain't hormones. Now stop crying into that donut.'

I've done fundraising before, but right now it feels like people are less likely to donate money when you are not fundraising for something you currently suffering from. People were all about donating to my Crohn's fundraiser........though that might have been to stop me from talking so much about bowels. This time around I'm raising money for breast cancer research. I still can't believe it's something we do not have a handle on yet. This particular charity really won me over because they're not just about donating to the research, they're all about helping the people with breast cancer and their families get through a tough time. I can relate. Donate here: the link that leads to doing good things with your life.

Please consider donating. Don't make me hold a bake sale. Trust me, no body wants that.

Check back in on Friday's for a fitness update. I can do planks for, like, a whole minute now without swearing like a sailor. Have I impressed you with my physical feats yet?

xxLindsay

Looking Back....In Horror. (It Does Get Better, Kids)

Everyone knows that you need to look at where you've been in order to figure out where you're going.

...or something like that anyways. I don't know. I'm not google. I don't have all the answers.

Since coming back to America in March, I've been trying to figure out my place in this world. I'm in DC again, I have a job, a whole new set of skills thanks to my MA that involve a whole lot of interpretive dance and a fondness for group massage. The world is my oyster. So of course I'm mildly panicked and haven't left the house. 

My mom passed me some old school pictures a few weeks ago and I'm hoping by analysing the person in each one will help me to figure out where I'm going.

Let's see shall we?

It all started with sweet innocence. She's just an adorable little elf. This picture says 'I like to giggle and play. Everything is sunshine-y! Let's be friends!'

Then we move on to loveliness and 'such a good little girl'. Look, she even likes to pretend she's a sailor! She is trustworthy and will make an excellent girl scout. She clearly likes cookies cause she is all sugar.

Okay, okay, so there's a little bit more rebellion here. Making her own fashion choices on her own. Oh yes, she went for the perm. And the headband almost as big as her head. Okay, cool, still adorbs, and clearly heading in the nerd direction (did you catch that bling? Straight out of a kickass book called The Silver Slippers, part of the Charm Book series.) Clearly a nerd who is desperate to be a ballerina. Oh honey....things are not looking good for you....

Then things take a turn for the worse. Little Lindsay learned what happens to a small town girl when she tries to go against the crowd, do her own thang, be an independent woman who can cut her own fringe.

Lesson learned: don't ever cut your own fringe. The hair dresser who tries to fix it will teach you a lesson.

NEVER CUT YOUR OWN HAIR.

Mullets happen. They happen to teach you a lesson.

Look how fluffy it is. The lesson I learned that day is that a bad haircut will change you. 

IT. WILL. CHANGE. YOU. 

It somehow manages to defy gravity. It also makes me appear to be slightly psychotic. I should have gotten therapy for this. And this outfit clearly says I also wanted to be accepted as a poet with deep, deep thoughts. Thoughts that run as deep as the forest on my head. No, there is no business in the front, party in the back. I have feelings we need to discuss. And only a black turtleneck will convey that.

After that bad haircut I refused to cut my hair. I started to go far, far away from trying to be an independent woman and delved straight into 'No, no, no. I am a LITTLE PRINCESS. Not a 7 year old wanna-be trucker, no matter what my mullet suggests.' So my opposition to the haircut landed me straight into the Land of Wanna-Be Sister Wives. This photo looks like I've been groomed for the life of being a little lady that stays at home for her husband she shares with 9 other little ladies, and I get to make all my own clothing, lucky girl. 

DAMNIT WOMAN, is that a SCRUNCHIE?!

And now we move on to the period of my life where I am clearly making quieter statements with my look. This one whispers gently that I'm on the path to being a middle-management IT professional/serial killer. Also, maybe I like cats more than people. Also, cheese. I may talk to walls. Maybe cause that's where I hide the bodies.

Finally, the school pictures stop after this last one. This last one was just after my mom made me do my laundry for myself and I accidentally got bleach in with all my black goth clothes. So I know for a fact I'm only wearing white because I clearly need supervision at all times. And that choker says I'm a badass but also still can't let go of wanting to be a princess cause it's made of LACE. LIKE A GODDAMN LADY. Who listens to a whole lot of Korn, Disturbed, Cold and Fiona Apple. Because, clearly, those all go hand in hand. I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS.

And here I am today. Repatriating back to America. (Well this was last year, so still in London with a few more months before the dreaded repatriating and still relatively happy/possibly drunk.) I managed to turn out okay so who knows what the future may hold?

Looks like this was taken in the British Library where I was researching my dissertation on women and nudity in comedy. Who wouldn't be happy with a topic like that?

If you have some awesome school pictures of your past self, please, do share. Let's all learn together.

NEVER CUT YOUR OWN HAIR.

xxLindsay

A London Thanksgiving: Damn Crazy Americans

I made a turkey. Then people ate it. We were all surprised that everyone lived to tell the tale.

Last week was one of my favourite holidays to spend in London. Thanksgiving. It'll be my second year spending it here and it brings me no greater joy than to celebrate this very American holiday with my UK friends.

Daytime adventures. First party helping with turkey prep for second party.

Last year was very reserved, respectful and lovely. (Raise your hand if this makes you giggle to think of me hosting something so civilised. Yeah...thanks Mom.) I had my closest London friends round my flat for a sit down meal and quiet reflection on what we were thankful about.

This year was a good reflection of how I live my life now: occasionally tipsy, chatty, a complete disregard for any kind of diet, hey there cute dudes--let me feed you, tomorrow will someone reassure me that I did not indeed embarrass myself like I feel like I did, and Cards Against Humanity is always appropriate no matter the political climate.

This year, my Thanksgiving day plans were created on a drunk night out with another American expat. I had to be told the next day what these plans were. I'm like, Obama girls classy. Ammiriiiiight? (BOOM American Cultural Reference FOR THE WIN.)

Obama classy.

Boy, are the best plans made over drinks or what?

Planning on having fun. Thanksgiving involves mucho wine. Also comfy socks. 

I did a two pronged Thanksgiving assault onto my UK brothers and sisters. What resulted in basically me having an all day party for me and two separate parties for my friends. For the day party I invited all my classmates, co-workers, and actor-y friends, then I had a separate evening meal with my  longtime friends I've known ten years...and had so many people that it was more of a buffet party that involved Cards Against Humanity, several toasts, a slightly drunken giving thanks circle, and a lot of conversations I vaguely remember. It's safe to say that I was a pretty decent host at the first party and a fairly shit one at the second one. 

But I was surrounded by friends that are comfortable with this. I am thankful for these people. Also, I wasn't the only American there to represent. My old DC flatmate was in town on business and helped me bring the American cheer to our UK brethren. Just showing everyone what they're missing by not having crossed the pond so many years ago. 'MERICA.

Forcing all the Europeans to watch Charlie Brown at party 1. You're gonna watch it AND YOU'RE GONNA LIKE IT...even though everyone always feels slightly depressed after a Charlie Brown viewing. And that right there is a goddamn TRADITION.

I will think fondly upon those hazy memories. And the leftovers are just giving me great new memories. Like how one shouldn't really keep leftovers as long as I have, but damnit, I'm a rebel. And I'm kind of poor. And I spent a shit ton on that turkey and by God, I WILL CONSUME ALL LEFTOVERS.

Expensive turkey getting stuffed. There's a dirty joke here somewhere. Give me some time....

Friends. They're not American. But I'm sure they want to be after all that superfunadventuretime.

Google hangout with my family. While hosting a party. Also a little drunk. In my defence, so was my family though. My friends awkwardly watched this display while quietly stuffing their face with American themed dishes: Green bean casserole and Ranch's veggie dip.  I'm like Martha Stewart for my UK friends. So put together. 

I think the rest of the pictures are only from my day party. I started with Bloody Mary's and worked my way to the wine and champagne. Me handling my very expensive fancy camera for the evening party would not have been a wise choice. I'll just have to use the rest of my day time photos for a post on creating your very own Expat Thanksgiving.

Keep it classy London,

Lindsay xx

Christmas Afternoon Tea at Conrad London St James

A little over a month ago I was invited to preview the afternoon Christmas tea at Emmeline's at the Conrad London St James Hotel. There are very few things that get me as excited as Christmas events do, so I was more than happy to try out what Conrad London has in store for Christmas while still in September. (And I decided not to post until closer to the holidays...cause I'm timely like that and totally think these things through. Not at all because I've forgotten about blogging for awhile...ahem....)

It's a freaking Christmas SCENE. Seriously, how cool is that?!

If you want to check out any other reviews or find out when the next London Bloggers Tea event is, check out the hashtag #LDNBloggersTea. We're trendy like that, hashtag and all.

Prerequisite tea pouring photo. A must for all tea bloggers.

I will not lie to you, dear reader (hi mom!), this event also lured me in with it's promise of Laurent-Perrier Champagne. If you book the Christmas tea special, you can get this magical, wonderful, Christmas argument resolving, free flowing Champagne. And if you have to have a Christmas afternoon tea with a few pesky out-of-town relatives, what better way to numb the pain and add delight then with Champagne. This healthy tip is brought to you by years of experience. (There you have it folks, LindsayDinsyDay--Inappropriate Humour Since 1984)

Our menu was expertly decided by Chef Zoe and is as follows:

Christmas Tea Menu
A Selection of Savouries











Brussel sprout salad (creamy and surprisingly delicious...though you'd would not be able to convince a child to eat this. And in fact, I am quite like a child, if you hadn't noticed. I waited for at least three people to tell me it was delicious before rudely sticking my finger in it to try it. In fact, they were correct. Very tasty. And I am just full of class to spare.)
Turkey ballotine (always a safe choice. You can't go wrong)
Venison bite (so freaking tasty, I would have this for my Christmas dinner)
Smoked salmon & lemon crème fraiche sandwich
Cured gammon & mustard sandwich
Beetroot & spinach sandwich (absolutely my favourite sandwich, who cares about the rest. Try this.)
*I have no pictures of the sandwiches. I was too busy stuffing my face. 

Freshly Baked Orange and Cranberry and Christmas Spice Scones served with Devonshire clotted cream, homemade strawberry jam and blackberry curd

After we politely gorged ourselves on the savouries, we still had the dessert course ahead. You will most definitely be satisfied with the amount served at this afternoon tea. Not so much that I feel guilty for waste, but just enough to be the kind of snuggly, happy full I so much enjoy. Especially at Christmas. Layers in winter are a girls best friend. Pro tip.

The desserts were brought out with flare and panache. We had harp music playing in the background and you really could not help but feel all Christmas-y and happy with this scene before you. Look how Conrad just plays with your emotions. I just wanted to curl up next to the fire and watch It's A Wonderful Life after this feast.

Cakes and Pastries
Winter berry Christmas tree
Chocolate orange Battenberg present
Snowflake macaroon
White forest yule log
Christmas postcard marshmallows
Mini meringue snowmen
Edible Snow

 Conrad London St James is located at 22-28 Broadway SW1H 0BH. The Christmas Snow Scene Afternoon Tea is £37. The Christmas Snow Scene Afternoon Tea with Free-flowing Laurent-Perrier Champagne is £45.00.

Blogger friend and my favourite afternoon tea partner: Amanda from over at  Rhyme and Ribbons

Cheers,
Lindsay xx