London!
Sorry everyone, I've been busy having a fabulous time in London. Noticing my absence, Claire's preschool teacher asked if I was in Dallas again for treatment. "Hell no! I'm on vacation, bitches!"
When I was a student at the London School of Economics, I thought I would come to London all the time as an adult. It only took me 19 years to make it back. London brings up a lot of great memories (my twenty-first birthday, backpacking around Europe with my cool new friends) and a few bad memories as well. It was the first time I felt inferior to my peers. They owned expensive suits, they followed the stock market, they knew what to order at an Indian or a Japanese restaurant, and they had spent the summer working prestigious internships. Me? I had spent the summer waitressing at Big Peckers restaurant and had gained thirty pounds as a result of a terrible break-up and all the free jalapeño poppers. My London roommate was a beautiful heiress, and I was the poor fat kid. I wish I could go back in time and tell my 20-year-old self to relax. "You're fine! It'll all work out! Don't you know stress causes cancer?! Now put the Smirnoff Ice down and go eat a vegetable!"
Anyway, it was nice to go back and experience London without all the coming-of-age angst. I no longer care about being a small fish in a big pond. I'm just happy to not be floating upside-down on the top.
This trip also kicked off my fortieth birthday celebration. All of my BFFs are turning 40 this year, so I've decided to celebrate whenever we're together, especially since I may be out of commission on my actual birthday. (DIEP flap reconstruction surgery has a 6-8 week recovery period.)
Speaking of which, after leaving a slew of angry voicemails, I managed to get my name on the surgery schedule for March 24th. Hopefully the Houston plastic surgeon sorts out his Seton license renewal before then. I was so frustrated that I considered going to the hospital board myself. Step aside, let me use my machete to cut through this red tape. The end of March is later than I anticipated but will allow me to celebrate Claire's birthday and spend spring break with the kids, and I may even be hobbling along without the assistance of a walker before my birthday in April. If not, I guess I'm going with an over-the-hill birthday theme.
When I was a student at the London School of Economics, I thought I would come to London all the time as an adult. It only took me 19 years to make it back. London brings up a lot of great memories (my twenty-first birthday, backpacking around Europe with my cool new friends) and a few bad memories as well. It was the first time I felt inferior to my peers. They owned expensive suits, they followed the stock market, they knew what to order at an Indian or a Japanese restaurant, and they had spent the summer working prestigious internships. Me? I had spent the summer waitressing at Big Peckers restaurant and had gained thirty pounds as a result of a terrible break-up and all the free jalapeño poppers. My London roommate was a beautiful heiress, and I was the poor fat kid. I wish I could go back in time and tell my 20-year-old self to relax. "You're fine! It'll all work out! Don't you know stress causes cancer?! Now put the Smirnoff Ice down and go eat a vegetable!"
Anyway, it was nice to go back and experience London without all the coming-of-age angst. I no longer care about being a small fish in a big pond. I'm just happy to not be floating upside-down on the top.
This trip also kicked off my fortieth birthday celebration. All of my BFFs are turning 40 this year, so I've decided to celebrate whenever we're together, especially since I may be out of commission on my actual birthday. (DIEP flap reconstruction surgery has a 6-8 week recovery period.)
Speaking of which, after leaving a slew of angry voicemails, I managed to get my name on the surgery schedule for March 24th. Hopefully the Houston plastic surgeon sorts out his Seton license renewal before then. I was so frustrated that I considered going to the hospital board myself. Step aside, let me use my machete to cut through this red tape. The end of March is later than I anticipated but will allow me to celebrate Claire's birthday and spend spring break with the kids, and I may even be hobbling along without the assistance of a walker before my birthday in April. If not, I guess I'm going with an over-the-hill birthday theme.
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