My Second Blog

In my Writing for Advertising class we were given the assignment to create a blog for a product, so I chose the iPhone. Check out "There's a Blog for That" here!

In other news, work is piling up as I count down to winter break. But what I'm really looking forward to is graduation. May 2011, I'm coming.

NYC ya later.

So much for continuing that story!

A short overview: NY was fabulous. Saw so many friends: Lizzie and Louisa Rechter, Brian LeMay, Will Salomon, Will Stevens, Alex Muhoray, Nate Fulton, Colin Menzel, Sarah Fowler, Faith McCormick, David St. Geme, Trent Pande, Nick Robbins, and Peyton Sherwood (brother and friend). Went to a Yankees playoff game, walked 40 blocks down 5th Avenue, frequented Rockefeller Center and ate and drank some wonderful things. Lots of pizza and then au revoir, NYC!

I'm in New York

In case you didn't hear, I'm in New York.

to be continued...

3 Days 'til Home

Is it really THREE days until I go home? I'm so sad about this :( I've had such a great summer in London. I feel like I've gotten the hang of London life and I could stay here for a lot longer. Unfortunately, duty calls, and I must go back to school on Monday. One more year and then I'm free to move wherever I want. (Assuming I can get a job there!) Maybe it'll be London, maybe Atlanta, maybe somewhere completely different. I've got about 8 months to make up my mind.

Right, let's get on with it then:

What I'll miss about London: When walking/busing down the street to meet my friends for lunch I realized how much I'm going to miss Old Street! Before we moved office we were located at 20 Old Street and the new office is just down the road, not far at all. So I've been on Old Street almost everyday for the past three months and I've come to know it very well. One thing I'll especially miss is the "food alley" as my girlfriends and I call it. Vendors from all over the world set up vans, tents and tables on one side street off of Old Street. I was partial to the Italian place; they had the best tortellini! I'll miss the daily grind of having a real job, as crazy as that sounds. It won't be near as exciting having a job in America. To me, going to work everyday was an adventure right up to the very end.

What I'm looking forward to in America: It's getting harder and harder to come up with these :( Not that I don't love home, I do. I've just been living in my favorite city for the past three months; I've been spoiled! But one thing I've been looking forward to since I GOT here was and is seeing the kids I babysit. And there's a new little one! The Lochhead family welcomed a baby boy, Gus, last month and I can't wait to meet him. Most of all I can't wait to see my buddy, Georgia! No favoritism here, we just spend the most time together out of all the 9 children I babysit.

5 Days 'til Home

Well, I missed yesterday because I was/am in Berlin! I'm visiting my Uncle Topper, Aunt Katja, and cousins, Max (14) & Tillman (10). It's been a few years since I've seen them, so it's so great to catch up - and in Berlin! What a cool city. Yesterday we walked all around and Topper kept pointing out when we were in old East vs. old West Berlin. We saw where the wall once was and all of the new buildings that have recently gone up. There is some great architecture here. While Berlin is a big city, there are certain parts that give it a small-town feel, such as the awesome wooden playground we went on yesterday and the garden my aunt and uncle rent and care for; it's only a bus ride away from their apartment. See? Big city, small-town feel. Today I'm off to explore with Max and Tillman. Here we go!

What I'm going to miss about London: Double-decker buses. I absolutely LOVE taking the bus at any time of day. My favorite seat is at the top in the very front. It often seems as though you are about to or have already run over the car or cyclist in front, but rarely does that actually happen. In my eyes, it's a free tour of the fabulous city that is London.

What I'm looking forward to in the USA: Hmm.. it's hard to top double-decker buses, so let me give this a good think ... Mmm, yes. I've got it. Whole wheat options and light options of everything. It seems like we have hundreds of choices when it comes to bread alone. I love the really thin wheat bread. It lets me feel like I'm being health-conscious while eating my turkey sandwich and feel less guilty on that trip to St. Louis Frozen Custard Factory.

*Another thing I'll miss about London: Everyone is not so damn concerned with weight! This is a good and a bad thing. You can understand both sides, I trust.

Until next time! x

9 Days 'til Home

What I'll miss about London: Being able to "pop down to the shop." Gotta love the corner news agents and local shops where you can get just what you need pretty much whenever you need it. Chocolate fix? Absolutely; grab a Dairy Milk or a Flake. Alcohol? Check! Will that be a £5 bottle of Cab Sauv or a few cans of Carlsberg? And of course you can get your Heinz baked beans for that English fry-up you're so desperately craving after a big night out. It's true that as far as convenience, America is the King. But the little convenience shops that seem to be on every corner of every street are wonderfully helpful for this American in England.

What I'm looking forward to in the USA: Walgreens, of course! And having the choice of two Walgreens that are equidistant from my house. Without shame, I'll add that I get to DRIVE there and I don't have to walk. Granted, Walgreens is further from my house than the nearest news agent is here, but even if it was just as close I might still drive. Although that isn't very green of me... I'll cycle - I mean bike - instead.

10 Days 'til Home

This post comes on the morning after the day I got bitten by some kind of spider. My ankle is swollen and painful as all hell but there's no point trying to make an appointment to see a doctor; there's NO chance I'd get in before next week. Did get some medicine from the pharmacy... and had to pay out of pocket, of course.

So, without further ado:

What I'll miss about London: Their lovely currency. Makes more sense than American coins, I think. 1p, 2p, 5p, 10p, 20p, 50p, 1 pound and 2 pound coins make everything eeeasy. Oh, and no added tax at the register - it's already factored in so you're not paying $2.67; it's £2.60.

What I'm looking forward to in America: Being able to see the doctor on short notice and health insurance coverage.

11 Days 'til Home

What I'll miss about London: Pimms and cider.

What I'm looking forward to in the USA: Bud Light and the gym.

12 Days 'til Home

Since I've been a terrible blogger this summer, I plan to make up for it by blogging everyday until I go home. I will list one thing I'm going to miss and one thing I'm looking forward to when I get home.

What I'll miss about London: Glasses of red wine in Bar Soho.

What I'm looking forward to in the USA: Tide-to-go.

Anthropological Observations

Once again I've found it difficult to make time for blogging. My apologies, faithful readers.

This is my 6th or 7th time in England and I think I'm finally able to pinpoint some differences between this country and my native one. After returning home from my summer here in 2007 I was at a loss for words when people asked me how things across the pond compare to things at home. To be honest, I didn't think things were that different with the exception of English people being decidedly more laid back about certain things and stores closing at 5pm everyday. I have always, always appreciated the ever-present option of going to the pub and I take advantage of it when I can. (This may be indicative of a personal problem but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?) The drinking culture is obviously different over here, a big part of that to do with the legal drinking age being 18, not 21. While 18 year olds can legally go out to clubs and have a few pints with lunch or dinner down at the pub, we Americans take the much more tactful approach to drinking: Take eight shots of vodka and go out and see what happens. (Note: Good things rarely happen to an 18 year old after eight shots of vodka.) Everyone here in England asks about the famous "red cups" they've seen in movies like "American Pie," and let's face it, we Americans know that a party ain't a party 'til you've got your Solo cup. College students in America are beer pong experts by the end of their first semester and are well versed in Flip Cup, Quarters and Kings/Circle of Death, among other culturally relevant drinking games well before their 21st birthdays. Funny, aren't we?

The best part of drinking in England is the number of late night Kabab shops where you can get a burger and some nice thick-cut chips after a night of drinking and dancing. Oooh - I'm sorry, England, I've just remembered that in America you can get Taco Bell at almost any hour of the night, provided you have a DD. Sorry - that one goes to America.

But England comes back swinging! The most endearing quality of every single Brit, and I feel confident making such a sweeping statement because I swear they ALL have this in common, is the seemingly endless list of idioms every one of them knows and uses constantly. I love it! I just don't have the memory for it; I can never think in time to say something is as "cheap as chips" or that I did "sod all" today. I can't even think of them now when I'm trying to. I'm rubbish - there you go.

And one final observation of the Yank vs the Brit: Americans are insanely nice and happy all the time. We all have very good manners when meeting new people; we shake hands and say "nice to meet you," and then we usually ask our new acquaintance about himself to find anything we may have in common and that might be a jumping off point for conversation. Even the tone of voice we use, or at least for girls, is different. We speak in a considerably higher pitch that doesn't sound like our real voice. Why this is I have no idea. In England when two people are introduced they will just say "alright?" "alright." and that's that. They take less of an initiative to speak to people they don't know. In fact, they don't do it. Often times Americans seem "fake" and insincere to the English when they are so high-pitchedly asked for detailed descriptions of their personal lives by a complete stranger. People really start to notice I'm American when I make conversation with strangers in the chip shop or out in a bar at night. But I'm completely genuine in my gregariousness and I'm not ashamed. Having spent so much time over here I have developed an understanding of English culture and I can communicate with them comfortably like I can with my American friends. I know, I know, they're not animals in the zoo. But in my experience I've learned that the longer one spends in another culture the easier it is to relate to the people there and to form deeper relationships. But as is human nature (with the possible exception of the French), after a while the two cultures begin to understand each other. By this I mean that the American's voice returns to normal and she tries to seem less excited about every single thing that happens and the Brit starts to consider the possibility that when one person is nice to another, she might actually not be taking the piss and it could be genuine.

Impending Doom Syndrome

Greetings from across the pond! I've finally got around to blogging for the first time since I've been in London. Okay, I just made it sound like I'm way busier than I am. I was just too lazy. But here it is, folks! Blog abroad entry numero uno.

Let me open by saying I thought I saw a dead body on the way to the tube station this morning. While walking with my friend Callum, I suddenly noticed a pair of feet... and then some legs.. and I freaked out when I realized it was a man lying face down in the dirt under a bush! He was fully dressed in a suit and had a bag or briefcase next to him, so I figured he couldn't be homeless. Callum guessed he just hit the booze too hard last night and decided to pass out on the ground. Nearly gave me a heart attack!

Now onto the basics. I'm living in a terraced house in Kennington with four other girls. I really like them all so far :) My internship is at Alphabet Advertising on Old Street and I'm enjoying it very much! I've been working on a print ad geared toward tourists for a campaign for the London Transport Museum. The people in charge seem to like my ideas so with any luck they will use one of them! Last Tuesday I got to go on an assignment (how cool) and actually visited the museum because the people at Alphabet wanted to know what I thought of it in my humble American opinion. Let me tell you, I loved it! It was so interesting to see how London really did evolve alongside its transportation.

Speaking of transportation, I take the Tube everyday to and from work and/or to go out at night. I love the Tube. I see so many different types of people and have a good time trying to blend in. I'll admit I'm somewhat embarrassed to be thought of as a tourist. After all, I've been here six or seven times now and after this summer I'll have lived here for a cumulative period of a year. But not looking American is particularly tough for someone like me, an American. And I'm about as American as American Cheese with my blonde hair, blue eyes and J. Crew shorts. I don't have that cool culturally-ambiguous look that might get people wondering just where I'm from. No, they're probably wondering what I did with my cowboy hat and boots. To dress like a Londoner/British person, you must realize that the weather sucks here. It's not summer - it's cold. And I can't seem to grasp the concept of "layering" because every time I try I end up ... well, not layering. I understand this is really a simple thing.. it's actually the most basic, I-don't-even-know-why-I'm-blogging-about-it idea, but I seriously can't seem to do it! I say to myself, "okay, Paige, it's getting chilly out there, you'd better layer." And then I end up walking out the door in a tank top and a cardigan and some sandals. I'll get it sooner or later. Oh, another nice image aside from me having intense difficulty getting dressed is me falling down the stairs last week. Twice. But I wouldn't be who I am without bruises all over me, so I guess I'm just subconsciously making sure I don't change too much while I'm abroad.

On a more serious note, I'd like to mention that during my exploration of Google Earth the other day (which I am seriously going to make a habit because I didn't really realize Africa was where it is...) I went to look if there was any satellite imagery of the oil spill in the Gulf. This tragedy is one to which we should all be paying close attention; it's going to forever change our world. For us who don't work in the oil business it is so hard to fathom why they can't plug up this hole. Day after day, barrels and barrels of oil are pouring into the ocean. It really seems like a nightmare; like the end of the world. And the experts don't even know how long we will be dealing with this disaster. The effects of the BP catastrophe may extend far beyond our lifetimes. As President Obama said in the newspaper I was reading over a fellow Tube passenger's shoulders yesterday, the time to find alternative energies is now. There is an exhibit at the London Transport Museum that shows four possible routes for the future of our world in relation to energy. You can see it at http://future.ltmcollection.org/forecast.html.

Using "tree hugger" as an insult is no longer viable. If you're not concerned about our planet and the energy crisis, you are living in a dream world. Sometimes I have the tendency to express symptoms of my "IDS," or "Impending Doom Syndrome." I got it from my grandmother, Dolly Sherwood. It is known by all the Sherwoods that Dolly would be the one to worry that if someone puts a hot iron too close to the edge of a table and someone bumps that table, the iron could fall onto the pile of laundry below, ignite it, and burn the whole house down. And the smoke from the fire could get in the flight path of a helicopter flying over the house at that very instant and cause the pilot to choke and go blind, sending his passengers and himself into a downward spiral, crashing into the orphanage that could be below. But when it comes to the future of our sacred Planet Earth, let's all try and think a little bit harder about what could happen as a result of our actions. Let's all have a little bit of IDS, shall we?

I realize this blog entry is far too long. My apologies to all and especially those who stayed with me throughout.

Be My Guest

I don't understand it when a person has bad manners when he is a guest in someone's house. I know whenever I am at a friend's house and we have a case of the drunchies I always clean up after myself. Put the dishes in the dishwasher, put the food away, etc. And I don't eat all their food. Usually. Most times when I have people over, which I do quite frequently, I have to clean up after everyone leaves. That's fine; it comes with the territory. I usually get help collecting beer cans and bottles, which is a very nice guest-ure. However, today when my dad got home he made a strange discovery and asked me if anyone I had over last night was crazy. I think he meant certifiably as opposed to the kind of crazy I am because someone decided to go into my pantry and smell or taste all the jars of peanut butter, jam, sauce and things of the like. Unopened or opened - didn't matter to this guy. And all the tops were off! It was like freakin' Mardi Gras for non-perishables in there. Who does that?!

It is important to be a good guest. It is also important not to be a freaking weirdo and remove the lids from multiple jars of food for no good reason. There is no good reason for doing that. It's weird. Especially if it's not even your house.

Much To Do List

Well, well. Haven't I been a poor blogger lately. I recently returned from my week-and-a-half visit down to Florida for Rollins' graduation. I had a wonderful time temporarily living with 2/3 of "le pouvoir de trois," as Eric calls us. Now it's a few weeks in the STL and then onto bigger, better things as I high tale it to London and begin my internship at the ad agency. *Let me amend: things definitely won't be bigger, everything over there is quite a bit smaller than it is in the good ole US of A. And as for it being better... let's HOPE it's better; I have high expectations. In fact, I have very high expectations. Of myself. Last spring when I lived in London for 4 months I was very often guilty of being a lazy bum. This should not come as a surprise to those readers who know me well. Looking back on all the time spent in my room at Regent's College I feel as though I did not take full advantage of all the city has to offer. Of course, it was by no means a total waste! I enjoyed a quarter of a year living in my favorite city with a couple of my best friends just a tube ride away. This time I won't have any of my American chums there with me, but this is no crisis. I do have some great friends there (some meaning two, but hey, quality, not quantity) whom I am looking forward to seeing often and I'll be living in a house with three other girls who are sure to become friends if I have any say in the matter. But friends or no friends, I intend to make the absolute best of my summer in London. I WILL get up everyday with intention. Weekends will be cherished and filled with exploration. I intend to leave no borough un-burrowed, no ale untasted, no museum turnstile unturned. (Note: Leaving no ale untasted was simply for effect. I dislike ale very much. I welcome the day that may or may not come when I develop an affinity for it, but there is no ongoing pursuit.) I intend to see the sights I should have seen in my total 9+ months of being a UK resident, such as Bath and Winchester Cathedral to name a couple. It's a freakin' shame I'm going with almost no money because I'd love to do some more Euro-traveling. But my plan is to take full advantage of living in London. If one day you are talking to me on Facebook when it's 2pm on a Saturday in London and I'm not hungover, tell me to get my butt over to Buckingham Palace and have tea with the Queen.

Dirty Dancing

"Due to a disturbing decline in dance lessons, most Americans can't tell a tango from a mango." (groupon.com)

Most of my friends' experiences with dancing began in 7th grade at raunchy Bar/Bat Mitzvahs. We all know the scene: Forty or so 13 year-olds paired off, dancing to songs with lyrics we thought we understood, boys' hands all over regions we young teenage girls didn't know we had until they were being fervently groped by our eager pubescent counterparts. It was heaven for middle school boys. And my fellow females and I got plenty excited for these parties, too. We looked forward to -- and replayed in our minds for weeks after -- dancing with boys we liked; drinking in the smell of their Abercrombie cologne was as intoxicating as the spirits we had not yet experienced. (In my case, anyway.)

When my mother came to pick me up from one such party, she broke the rules of parent-child relations by coming inside instead of waiting in the car like she was supposed to. Later she confessed that she was appalled by what she saw and described it as a scene from "Jungle Fever." (I still haven't seen the movie, but I don't doubt her comparison.) But we were only 13. We weren't expected to dance properly.

Now we're in our twenties. A couple months ago a group of friends and I went to a bar downtown to do what college kids do. When we hit the dance floor I had an immediate flashback to the days of "Who Let the Dogs Out" and it hit me: Nobody knows how to dance these days! Buuut that's not completely true. There are a select number of Generation Y-ers who know how to properly dance with a partner. Unfortunately, the skill is not equally distributed between males and females. To find a man who can dance is like striking oil. That night downtown I did have one friend who could lead me in a dance and keep his hands where they ought to have been. I find this kind of dancing a lot more fun, not to mention those boys a lot more attractive! But come on, I'm not an old fart. I know that when you're out at a club or a bar, that kind of dancing doesn't really fit the mood, and that's fine.

But let it be known that there is somewhere bumping and grinding is NOT appropriate and we all had better get wise, QUICK! Weddings. I am fearful that in the next five years when my friends start to get married, people my age will cause some Baby Boomers to go into cardiac arrest when they dance to Marvin Gaye's "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" like it's Sisqo's "Thong Song." So, ladies, let's pressure our guy friends to watch some "Dirty Dancing" (how ironic) with us and learn how to take us for a spin around the dance floor while also studying the moves ourselves. As for the men, if you ask us to dance and surprise us with your skills, take it from me, you will immediately be 100% better looking.

Class Act

Men (though I use the term loosely) who are involved with married women or women who are involved with married men are by far the lowest of the low. This is the most disgusting, despicable and character-sacrificing thing anyone could possibly do.

I met one of these scumbags a couple nights ago at a karaoke bar. He was/is a friend of a friend and seemed nice enough after talking to him for a few minutes. When we discovered we both have the same go-to karaoke song, Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats" (ironic, I know), he proposed we sing it together. I happily agreed and he signed us up, insisting that I let him sing the second verse/chorus. While waiting for our turn, it came up that this guy had recently started seeing a married woman. I've met many people who do stupid things and I usually try to stay out of their business, but I couldn't help but argue with his behavior. When it was clear that he did not have a working moral compass, I dropped the subject. Although I knew he was not the kind of person I wanted as a friend, I wasn't going to cancel our karaoke duet. After a couple beers and some $1 jello shots our names were called and we took the stage. The first verse/chorus went fine (as fine as semi-drunk karaoke can be) and then I backed off and gave him his turn like he had asked. Well. This guy (whom I had just met, let me remind you) started spitting a well-rehearsed rant about how he was "up [there] singing with this platinum blonde bitch" - me. He went on for the entire verse and chorus saying horrible, degrading and incredibly embarrassing things about me, the girl he duped into being his prop. The things he was saying were of course untrue, as we had met just an hour before. And I'm not a platinum blonde. Well, it was obviously attention he was craving and he got it; the majority of the males in the bar got a kick out of his new lyrics. Once he'd finished and left me completely blindsided, he walked off the stage in all his sleazy glory. I should have put down my microphone and eighty-sixed that low-life but I guess my training in the performing arts kept me up there and I finished the song. (Pretty poorly, I have to say, but I doubt people were listening to me after that impromptu lesson in Jackasses 101.)

Well, it's clear, folks, that there are some bona fide gentlemen out there. What happened to being r-e-s-p-e-c-t-ful? As an optimistic person, I won't write off the whole human race or even the half of it to which I don't belong. But with scumbags like Tiger Woods and every other over-publicized celebrity DB out there it's getting harder everyday to believe good, honest men exist. Don't give up hope yet, ladies. And don't settle for losers, either. Being a gentleman will come back in style, I have faith.

Driving While Stupid

When it comes to texting while driving, I hate to admit that I'm as guilty as the next guy. I could say that I do it "safely," but let's be honest here. There is no safe way to text and drive. Oprah is taking steps to get people to make their cars "no phone zones." She insists that a call or a text isn't worth losing a life. Obviously she's right. She's Oprah. Last week I had a close call in being victim of another chick's stupidity. I had a green light to go straight across the intersection and she was across the intersection going left on a green - it was my right of way. As I drove into and through the intersection, I noticed the car opposite me did not look like it was going to stop. She was turning in my direction and when I looked to the driver... she wasn't even looking up!!! This stupid _____ was texting while entering an intersection when she didn't even have the right of way! So I gave her a little "BEEP BEEP" (though I was thinking "BLEEP BLEEP!") and we both slammed on the brakes. She looked like a deer in the headlights. Both of our windows were down and I almost said something to her but I bit my tongue. I could see on her face that she knew what an idiot move she had made. I'm sad to say I doubt that was the last time she texted while driving. I also regret to say that didn't shake me of the habit either. As a member of the iPhone clan, I know that for me texting is even more of a danger. Henceforth and herewith, I pledge to stop texting while driving. Let's see if I can do it.

*Disclaimer: Content written on my living room couch in St. Louis is less likely to be as wildly entertaining as content written during one of my crazy adventures. Stay tuned...

Chinese Philosophy

Paige Sherwood April 29 at 6:19pm

I should have started a blog a long time ago. For example, when I went to work in a pub in a small town on the southern coast of England for three months in the summer of 2007. That would have made for a good read. Or when I spent my spring '09 semester in London, that would have been something to blog about. Maybe I should have been blogging while I spent a weekend on a houseboat in Amsterdam or when I went couch surfing in Barcelona or hiking through Italy last May. Could it be that the most exciting experiences of my life have already passed me by?

Au, contraire. I expect this summer to be the best yet as I'll be living and working in my favorite city in the world, London. After much persistence, I secured an internship at an advertising agency called Alphabet Advertising and I'll be doing copywriting work among other intern-y sorts of things. In other words, I'm doing exactly what I wanted to do this summer.

But my life isn't just a bed of roses, which brings me to today's postulate: Yin Yang - More than just a patch on my jeans in 4th grade. The concept of Yin Yang in Chinese philosophy explains that in the natural world, opposing forces have reciprocal relationships; there is a natural ebb and flow of life that is beyond our control. For all the wonderful experiences in my life there are elements that are far less than ideal (i.e. living at home, changing colleges, constantly missing the people I love most) to balance them out. I think most people live balanced lives like this, but it seems to me that I live in extremes. Isn't that what they say to do? Live life to the extreme? Guess I can put a check in that box!