Hectic

My life has become slightly hectic and busy as of late. I know it will calm down soon enough, but for now I am finding myself too busy to blog!

Our supervisor is leaving from work, so we've gone from 4 people to 3 - this is taking away the hours of free time I used to have where I could wile away and ruminate through my keyboard. I don't have time to think about my feelings, let alone write about them!

This weekend was good. The time with future in-laws and step-in-laws went quickly and was rather enjoyable!

Today is Conrad's 27th Birthday, but I've talked about him enough lately that he's turned into some kind of local celebrity.

So rest assured, I'm still here, I still have things to say - Just do not have the time!

All Roads Lead Back To Manchester

We are off to Mancy-town for a three-day weekend to celebrate with parents and the like. On Saturday night Conrad's mom and his step-dad are coming over to my m & d's house for some dinner and frollicks.

I am so privileged to have so many people to celebrate with. Thanks to everyone who wrote comments - they all meant a lot to me!

I may write whilst in Manchester, I may not. But I will leave you with something a little bit special before I go:

Do you have something you'd like to say?

I will try and drag myself away from the piles of Bride and Wedding magazines for a couple of minutes to try and finish off the mammoth job of describing what will now officially be called The Week Where I Learned How To Literally Float On Air.

I think I left off around the time we started to get ready for dinner in Paris on Valentines Day. I had a few suggestions of where to go for dinner (thanks Karina!) but Conrad seemed to have a different plan. He looked up the best 20 restaurants in Paris and decided on one of them - the Restaurant De Palais Royale. In order to get to it, we needed to get off at the Louvre Metro and walk our way through the gates of Palais De Royale and through the peaceful, dim-lit arches surrounding the gardens. The atmosphere was so old-worldy and electric around the gardens - It felt like we had arrived onto another century.

The day was just turning into evening as we arrived - the sky creeping into a deep metallic blue colour. Conrad had decided beforehand that we should doll ourselves up and make it an eventful night. He explained it as an excuse for him to wear his suit and buy a brand-spanking new tie and for me to wear my favourite baby-doll dress and boots that I can never find an occasion for. We haven't ever celebrated Valentines Day the whole of our relationship, so he said this would be the Valentines Day we made up for all the rest of them.

I was swept with an overwhelming nervousness as we entered the granduous walkway to the restaurant. Conrad was acting suspiciously quiet and smug, making me feel slightly on edge and full of confused anticipation. This was truly the most elegant, romantic restaurant I had ever been to in my life. I felt so adult, so confident, so blissfully worthy of such an amazing venue for Valentines Day.

.

The waiters were probably the most friendly that I have ever had - the table had a card addressed to us saying 'happy valentines' in French and a small silver-plated heart that we could take home as a keep-sake. The dinner was absolutely outstanding - Traditional French food with a modern kick.

I don't think we talked much throughout dinner. Conrad still had that wistful look in his eyes with a strange sparkle showing up every now and then. Whilst eating our deserts and ordering cappuccino's, his face gradually got paler and more ghost-like. When the table next to us left, he got a conspiratal face and sort of stood up and made his way over to my side of the table.

I started giggling.

He sat next to me and we just looked at each other. I just wouldn't stop giggling. I don't think either of us remember much of what was said those first couple of seconds. I think he said 'do you know why I've come over here' and I think I giggled a little bit more.

He brought out a little box.

He said something along the lines of 'let's do this properly'

Getting down on one knee next to the table, he opened up the ring box so I could peek at it's sparkliness "Rachel LastName, would you would marry me?'

Now this is where I would like to have paused, played it cool pause.. contemplate.. leave him wondering why on earth I hadn't said yes yet.. soak in the moment..maybe cry a little bit..

What really happened was I grabbed the ring out of the box, shoved it on my fourth finger and exclaimed a loud 'Yes' a little more adamently then was particularly necessary.

It was absolutely perfect. If anyone asked me what the perfect way to propose to me would be, it would have been this. The ring that he had chosen was exact to my taste like I had chosen it myself.

I'm sure anybody who knows me outside of blog-world understands how much this meant to me. Conrad and I have always had a different view of marriage - I have always wanted to get married early and bumble through life trying to figure it out the hard way. He is more English in the way that he wanted to be 1 million per cent sure and to be old enough, mature enough, confident enough to be sure that this really will be it; that when he puts that ring on my finger I will be wearing it until we are 110 years old and can be an heirloom for our grandchildren.

Little did I know that when he did decide on marrying me, that he would be the best fiance ever, be the best wedding-planner ever, be the best counter-part to me ever. That he would do his utmost best to make up for all of my waiting and wondering.

I truly do have the best fiance in the world.

So after our 3-course meal and proposal we made hushed but excited phone calls to our parents, each time trying not to cry or choke on our chocolate truffles. We wandered down various avenues to the most Parisian brasserie we could find, ordered champagne and sorting through plans that had been kept inside our heads for months - writing guest lists on napkins and making plans for musicians that would never dream of doing somebody's wedding.

Well I think that's enough for one post... And I didn't even fit in the Eiffel Tour and Notre Dame! I shall have to post again soon..

**Apologies for quality of photographs - the old camera phone isn't so great at night**

So this is what they call Walking on Clouds

I'm quite reticent to speak of this past week on my blog. I can't help but think that once I start writing it out, the magic will be spun like an intricate web onto my blog and out of reality. The positive nervous energy I feel might just float out and stick to the screen and be out of me forever. I never want to stop feeling as full of love and happiness as I do right now.

*sigh*

There is also so much to say about the past 7 days. I had such a good time that when we got in the black cab at Waterloo to go home, I couldn't for the life of me think of our address. I had become so detached from reality. When we got off the train in Waterloo and I saw the Millennium Eye in the background, I completely burst into tears. I wasn't sad to be home, I wasn't sad to be back in reality - but as I was stepping off onto the platform, I looked down at my hand and saw that the ring was indeed still there; That our engagement and whispered plans were not just part of a black and white film script. My full-up heart swamped with Paris and Valentines, roses, lit-up Eiffel Towers and beautiful cliches. Conrad kept having to repeat 'will you marry me' over and over again every place we went, so I actually got it firm and strong in my system. This wasn't a crazy dream, he hadn't just had a little bit too much to drink - my dream had become a clear, undeniable, ring-wearing reality.

So now, my friends I will give a little summary of Valentines Week in Paris. It's going to be tough deciding which memories to share and which pictures are best. I love them all - the tiny moments where we peeked around the corners and realised we were closer to Notre Dame then we first realised - the moment I was sat there realising I could definitely live happily in France, the moment I saw millions of paparazzi swarming around in the restaurant and realising I had just laid eyes on Sharon Stone...

So many.. To give you a little bit of background, this was my forth time in Paris. My first was at the age of 12 when I went with an 'honour choir' to sing with International Schools all over Europe. The second time was with my family.. I think I was 13. Third and forth time was with Conrad 5 years ago, and then 2 years ago. We decided to take in the more relaxed side of Paris - explore the worlds of cafes, brasseries, restaurants, walkways... We had already 'done' all the major tourist attractions, so it felt good just to wander and see where our excited legs would take us.

So we caught the 5:00am train from Waterloo, blinked our eyes and arrived in central Paris. Conrad slept the whole time and I dozed a little here and there. It took less time to get there then it usually does to go visit my folks on the other side of England. Crazy.

Our first port of call was the Sacre Couer. This is the one area of Paris that I hadn't spent much time in before; Montmartre. It's the highest point in the city and has breath-taking views of everything, including the Eiffel Tower. The cloudiness and wintery day just made the views more moody and romantic for me. (from now on, I will try and refrain from using the word 'romantic'. It doesn't even sound like a word anymore to me..)

We then ambled along the cobbled streets, dodging crazy Parisian drivers and popping into boutiques here and there. We eventually ended up buying our first piece of art together in a cute little art shop specialising in scenes of Montmartre, little scenes of cafes and cobbled streets.

We couldn't help but draw comparisons to the film 'Amelie' as many of the scenes were shot around the Sacre Couer.

After stopping here there and everywhere for half-liters of table wine and cups of over-priced coffee, we stumbled upon a candle-lit brasserie type place where the menu and atmosphere looked extra-ordinary. Conrad and I have a bit of a love affair with French food. I can't get enough of it, I dream of it, and even when I've eaten so much I feel sick I keep over-endulging my gutt with it. So to say we had a lovely dinner would be a major understatement. Dinner consisted of fois gras (so creamy!) on soft white baguette followed by a massive old hunk of beef (crispy on the outside, delightfully pink on the inside) with blue-cheese sauce and pepper sauce respectively. By the end of this 'light' meal (on our standards) we were already full - so upset that we couldn't have an after-dinner treat of cheeses.

After dinner we decided to go see the Moulin Rouge building. Having walked about half way there and seeing massive buildings with 'Sexodrome' and 'Live Peep Shows' every other building, with ladies thrusting there who-knows-what at me, we promptly realised we were in the red light district at prime-time red light time. A little flustered and taken aback, we doubled back on ourselves and decided day-light be more of an appopriate time to explore these little avenues.

The next day we woke up pretty late to a slightly rainy Valentines Day. We decided to "wander down the Champs Elysees" and (of course) I had to sing Joni Mitchell the entire way down. Because "I was a free man in Paris.. I was unfettered and alive.. Nobody callin' me up for favours, no-one's futures to decide.." Actually, I think that's the only reason we went there - so we could sing that song.

I realised while walking down there up towards Concorde, looking back and seeing the Arc De Triumphe - February was a nice time to visit Paris. The streets were empty, I felt like we were the only people in the world.

The misty rain settled a kind of happy peacefulness over the city. It was nice to have to cuddle up for warmth and take refuge in a warm side-walk cafe. This time round we wandered through the Louvre gardens looking for the perfect baguette place. And we found it. Right around the corner from the Louvre, we had the best baguette with ham and cheese and pickle. If I died right after my baguette, I would have been a happy woman.

I'm afraid that's all I can write for now. My fingers are starting to twitch, and my ring is too sparkly for me to concentrate. Ha. Just had to mention my ring at some point in here..

I'll leave you with a couple other points I noticed at Paris this time round that I hadn't noticed my other trips - You can also call this 'a few helpful tips':

• When crossing a road, do not assume that the walking green man means you won't get run over. The cars pretty much wait till you start moving and gun it right at you. A common phrase that we would use is 'run for your lives!!'
  
• At any point in the day you will see at least 3 people walking down the road with a long baguette. Nothing in it - just a long baguette. More often then not, they will be chomping down on it like it's the most natural thing in the world.
• As a lady, when excusing yourself to go to the restroom, you say that (in English, because I never took French class) you're excusing yourself to go to the 'little corner' - petit cour.
• Parisian women seemingly do not have larger feet then size 40. If you ask for a larger size in a shop, the sales lady/gent will laugh at you in your face.
• The Metro has a tendency to smell like farts. More specifically, baguette farts. My conclusion was that because so many people eat baguettes, and lots of cheese, there is a constant aura of baguette-fart smelliness. I'm not kidding.

• 
  
• The Eiffel Tower is on it's own in the middle of nowhere. There's no accidentally stumbling across it - You have to trek across all of Paris to get close.

Stay tuned for the conclusion of our Parisian heaven.

I got engaged in Paris

I'm very happy right now, floating on clouds.

More details of Paris to come!

I Love Paris in the Springtime...

I will be gone for a few days.. and hopefully will bring back pictures of happiness and joy.

A quick update on the Cabbage Soup Diet: It works. And I didn't cheat!! I will write more about this later, because it has made me wondorously happy. It's a good kick-start to a long-term healthy eating/exercise plan. I always hate the beginning of losing weight because you can never see results in the first week or so. This gives instant results, and it just worked really well. I feel self-confident enough to breeze through the Parisian streets with grace and style.

So.. for now.. Fare thee well.

What The Scanner Saw

Mom and Dad bought us a pretty new copier/scanner/printer for Christmas and I have just gotten round to making use of it's wonders and the endless hours of happiness it can bring to me.

I don't have many of my old pictures here in London (I am planning on bringing them all down next time I'm in Manchester) but from wandering around the house and picking certain pictures, here is what the scanner has seen today:

This was taken on the back of a scooter on the first holiday Conrad and I went on together in Tunisia. It was baking baking hot that day and we drove around for hours - taking in the sights of Carthage and then back around again. We were usually the only people on the road. This is also the first and only time I have ever had heat stroke. Because we were wizzing along without a care in the world, we forgot to re-apply sunscreen. And I paid for it later.

My brother and the clouds.

Conrad the Emperor. (circa 2006) This was a children's play that Conrad was in when he was in acting school called 'The Nightingale'. It was a very cute story that warmed your heart at the same time.

This is 'anonymous'. Also known as my brother-in-law.

This is Conrad looking very dapper about 30 minutes before his best-friend's wedding. Everyone was so nervous (including the groom) that we all decided to go have a game of pool beforehand.

This is my favourite shot of driving through Michigan. It seems so quintessentially American and captures everything about America that isn't seen in England. If that makes sense.

Placebo

I've had a case of the mild sniffles the past couple of days, and I'm desperate to get it all out of my system before we head off to Paris. Being sick on holiday? Probably the worst thing IN THE WORLD. So I've decided to stuff my face (well, controlled stuffing.. only 6 a day) with Echinacea. Apparently it's the miracle herb that will stop colds cold in their tracks.

But does it really work? There are millions of herbal remedies that are getting real publicity by word of mouth around here. For instance, Goji berries and wheatgrass. These fads come round week by week and who knows if they ever make any difference? Is there really any kind of miracle herb/fruit/vegetable that will change our lives?

Goji Berries

As I've said before, they give me zits. And make me crazy-hyper. Apparently they are a 'superfood' which in basic terms means The Best Thing For You Ever. In explanation terms it means they are one of the few foods in the world that our bodies could actually survive on without anything else (except for water of course). They were discovered in the Himalayan Mountains and have been found to have anti-aging effects, strength building powers and generally cure you of everything.

Wheatgrass

It tastes exactly how it looks. Like grass. It is 70% chlorophyll and stops growth of 'unfriendly bacteria'. It also gives your immune system a boost. This is also apparently a 'superfood'. It boosts your energy, has healing powers and is a powerful detox for your body. It also costs £3.00 a shot.

So my question is, how can you ever tell if it works? If it does work, that means you don't get sick - but how do you know you wouldn't have gotten sick anyway? And is this just one giant expensive placebo? Is this just another London thing?

What I do know is that they do work for me. They give me energy and a fresh, energised feeling inside. And if that is fake, well then... I will take it.

Things To Do In London When You're Dead

After mom arrived, we decided that going to Madame Tussaud's wasn't such a great idea, so we decided to wander around London and see what kind of mischief we could get into.

We started off our Saturday as any good old-fashioned London tourists would: On the tube.

We decided to start out at a small cafe, drink a little coffee, have a little chat. We were deep in discussion about the future of Southwark when none other but Ken Livingstone (the Mayor of London) overheard our conversation and decided to add his own two cents. Conrad decided that this was the best time to converse with Ken about his views on the congestion charge.

After walking around London streets for a while, we realised that Pirates of the Caribbean 4 was being filmed on location. I went over to talk to my pal, Johny, but Conrad would just not leave us alone for two seconds. I think Johnny was a bit mad at him because he kept just staring at him..

So after all the chin-wagging, we were all a bit hungry. Turns out that Samuel L. Jackson (who just happens to be in London hanging out with Jonny) knew a good place around the corner that did good sushi.

So off we went..

And it was gooooooooooood!

Seeing as we were near Soho, we decided to cut through Leicester Square to get through our next destination. Surprisingly, Tom Cruise was taking a short break from his publicity tour and true to his reputation, was quite happy to pose with my mom.

Tom was in town visiting his new pal David Beckham who had just finished a friendly neighbourhood match down the road. Guess who got to hang out with David for a couple of hours?

We caught David in quite a reflective moment while he was soaking up the sights and sounds of China Town. After all the excitement of meeting the two hotties, we decided to get some double espresso machiatos to warm us up.

And what would a good day out in London be without a bit of a dance? While I was off dancing, mom was brown-nosing with Robin Williams. Apparently Woopie would just not stop butting in to their conversation.

I could not believe my luck when out on the dancefloor I bumped into Shirley Bassey. We couldn't help but break into a chorus of "Hey Big Spender.."

Oh how we danced..

Just imagine what we would have missed out on if we had gone to Madame Tussaud's.

Cabbage Poop Diet

I don't actually have access to all the pictures from this weekend from work - so my update will have to wait till later today.

It was actually the pictures taken this weekend that spurred me on to what I used to think was the most disgusting thing on earth:

The Cabbage Poop Diet

For those of you lucky enough to be out of the loop on this one, it's a 7-day diet that allows you to eat as much cabbage soup as humanly possible whilst eating restricted amounts of other specific food groups. And the reason for doing this is that you can actually lose up to 10 pounds in a week.

So today I am on Day 2. I am allowed veggies galore and soup till it comes out of my ears (in fact, I think it has already). And tonight, for a reward - I get a whole massive baked potato. I seriously can't wait.

So I just wanted to share my pain with the universe. I miss carbs. I love carbs. I love chocolate. I'm craving things that I never usually eat - waffles, maple syrup, cheesy things. Cheeeeeese.

Hm. I have to stop. But I do know that this is going to be worth it. I need a kick-start to get off the downhill slope that I was on. I didn't like seeing my tum-tum sticking out all over London on Saturday. So here's to losing buffalo wings! And cabbage poop!

Mama's Back In Town

I've taken a half day today so that I can go pick up my mom at Victoria Station.

I'm excited.

All you folks in the States (that I'm related to), I am expecting pictures of your time with my dad in the next couple of weeks, and in return I shall give you pictures of this weekend. If you're lucky. Unfortunately they will all be pictures from a rudamentary camera phone, but this will all be solved when dad gets back with my new camera! Woohoo!

Till then...

20 Million Things To Do

I love music. Every phase of my life is defined by a song, an album, an artist. I listen obsessively to some tracks, and hang every emotion and thought on them. So most of the musicians I like are amazingly gifted guitar players, extraordinary poets and representatives of their soul.

So now, please forget all of that - Today I have a song that isn't so much musical genius but just coins my thoughts exactly, and it keeps just running through my head.

Pardon for the cheezyness please.

If it's fix a fence, fender dents
I've got lots of experience
Rent gets spent
And all the letters never written don't get sent
It comes from confusion, all things I left undone
It comes from moment to moment, day to day
Time seems to slip away

But I've got twenty million things to do, twenty million things
And all I can do, is think about you
With twenty million things to do

I've got mysterious wisteria hanging in the air
The rocking chair I was supposed to fix
Well it came undid
And all the things that I let slip, I found out quick
It comes from moment to moment, day to day
Time seems to slip away

But I've got twenty million things to do, twenty million things
And all I can do, is think about you
With twenty million things to do

I always have high hopes for when I get home from work - lists of millions of things to do.

But all I wanna do is hang out with my best friend in the whole world.

p.s apologies if i made you gag.