An average day (which is a good thing!)

Instagram is perhaps my most-beloved social media account, but lately I haven't been very disciplined about posting. I take photos but then don't think to post until 2am (whoops!), or I'm concerned that my phone will die if I use the camera (yes, that's currently a very real first-world problem in my life), or I'm logged in to the account I manage for What is the Point? and I'm too lazy to log out.

So, because it's 2am and I just finished watching five episodes of New Girl, I thought I'd go 'gram a photo or two from my day. But there was only one.

Cycle Superhighway spotted while in East London! #cyclesuperhighway #cs2 #eastlondon #mileend #london #bikelane #bikeporn

Posted by ellen! (@ellensayshola) 12/12/2015 at 2:09GMT 

Which, okay, yes, I am super jazzed that I live in a city with frickin' CYCLE SUPERHIGHWAYS but I also had a really great day in general. It's like the age-old millenial question: If you did something, but didn't post about it on Instagram... did you really do it?

(Yes YES the answer is YES you crazy hipster.)

So about today.

• Today I rode a bike!
• Today I bought shoes!
• Today I learned that I can spend £2 for the privilege of shoving as many olives and feta chunks and mozzarella balls as I possibly can into a plastic food container from the salad bar at Tesco!
• Then I rode a bike again!
• Today I made new friends and trimmed a tiny tree and drank eggnog that wasn't from a carton!
• Today I toured our friends' new house thanks to the magic of the internet! 
• Today my husband made friends, and I only helped a little bit! 

And these are things that — even if I had 'grammed them — can't really be captured in a photo.

Okay, that's bullshit, they totally can. It's not hard to take a photo of an ornament, but whatever. You get my point.

I just wanted to say I had a good day, and that sometimes when you move to a new place you really have to appreciate the good days because there are also low days and hard days and days that don't have olives or bikes and some days that don't even have tiny trees to trim. 

(And I guess you should follow me on Instagram. But maybe start following me tomorrow because that was literally the only photo I took today and it wasn't even that good.)

Thanks; Giving

I won't front, I stole that title from an email a new friend sent to invite everyone over for Thanksgiving.

But I love it. It shined (shone?) a new light on those two words: Thanks. Giving. Thanks-and-giving. Thanks-for-giving. Giving Thanks. Thankful to Give. All kinds of ways to interpret those two words with the addition of that rascal semicolon!

In the spirit of my favorite holiday, I've taken up my second annual #EllenThanks Instagram campaign. Last year I knocked it out of the park, posting something every day from Nov. 1st to 30th (check out #EllenThanks2014).

I am already late out of the gate, but I think it's even more important to complete this year than last year. Last year I felt #EllenThanks helped me appreciate the every-day things I might have been taking for granted. This year, in the calm of finally feeling settled, I find myself hyper-focused on documenting what's different, or what's difficult (or what's downright demoralizing in international news).

This year, I need it to help me refocus on the positive. The amazingness that comes with living in a new city. 

For starters, I'm pumped to have already gathered a solid foundation of friends. And I'm definitely glad to be here with my husband-slash-roommate-slash-financial advisor-slash-technical director. And I'm amazingly thankful to be traveling in a digital age where I can talk to and listen to and look at my favorite people for the low-low price of a latte.

(For the record, I have to buy a latte to feel good about using the Internet at the cafe around the corner. It's just the rule, I didn't make it. What's that? Yes, of course I *have* to go to a cafe. Stop giving me that look. Stop it. Staaaaahp.)

And I'm also thankful for the littlest things, like finding ice — beautiful, crushed, unlimited ice — at Nando's. And leaves changing color. And avocados. All things that have broken through metaphoric and literal grey days.


And, I'm thankful for you (my people!) and for this blog at all. I've turned to writing often (albeit sporadically) in life, and I'm thankful to have the opportunity to dedicate the time I've always thought I'd like to dedicate. So far, that's proving to be true.

What are you thankful for?

How Finding Friends is Like Dating

Building a social circle has been a main focus since arriving in the UK. We have amazing circles of friends and family back home, but for some reason few people offered to transplant their lives along with us so that we could have built-in drinking buddies here in London. (Weird, right?)

Lately I've also seen several friends post about how it's difficult to find new friends in our current life stages — some have had Big Life Changes while others feel like their established friend base has become more distant recently (emotionally or literally). How do you connect with people when it's routine to return to your solo apartment, to a significant other, or if you enjoy solitary hobby?

Making friends is basically the same as dating. Here's what I've found helpful as I set up my new life in London:

Make the first move.

Maybe not this move.
Or maybe YES THIS MOVE.

Opening a conversation is as simple as saying, "Hi, I'm Ellen. What's your name?" (I would suggest using your own name, though you're welcome to borrow mine.) If you've got an opportunity to start a conversation, seize it! I made a friend on the Tube because I asked about the crazy behavior of some of our fellow riders. If your eyes meet from across the room, or, um, I mean, if you find yourself in the same place at the same time, or if your kids go to the same daycare, stick your hand out there and say hello.

Prepare talking points. 

In London, we can always ask, "Where are you from?" because so many Londoners are expats. But after that conversation runs its course, it's habit to venture over to, "So, what do you do?" I've started trying to avoid that question, especially after reading this article about Tess Vigeland's experience with it. Why not try...

• What are the hidden gems in this city? (Especially useful if you're new in town!)
• What keeps you busy on the weekends? 
• Have you traveled much? Where's your favorite place so far?
• Have you read anything interesting lately? 

Those questions are reflective of what I like to do, and what I like to talk about. Which brings me to...

Share a little bit about yourself (and don't be self-conscious about it!).

You know who's really interesting? YOU ARE. I'm writing this for me as a personal reminder and for you as your cheerleader. Perfect strangers don't know you; you have to introduce yourself! I'm not kidding — I thought of three things about myself that I think are really interesting (and relatable) and memorized them. If you really can't think of anything, call your best friend and ask him or her to tell you. I promise they'll have plenty to say.

Ask your friends to set you up. 

Seriously. I asked anyone with contacts in London to connect me, and it turns out I get along really well with the friend of a coworker's college roommate from ten years ago (that's a friend-of-a-friend's-friend if you're keeping score at home). This tactic also comes with a surprising amount of describing what you're wearing so that you can find each other the first time you meet. It's very You've Got Mail. Or borderline sexting, y'know, whichever.

Ask for those digits.

Get a phone number, connect on Facebook, or get their email address (I don't hesitate to add that I'm shamelessly looking for friends). Then...

Reach out!

For whatever reason, at some point in my life I got really self-conscious about texting too much or too soon. I felt very needy, and like I was imposing on someone's life. Well guess what? I AM NEEDY AND DAMN RIGHT I'M PUSHING MY FRIENDSHIP ON YOU. After the first few texts, I got over it because guess what again — if you hit it off well enough that you have someone's contact info, that won't change based on the timing of your message. Pro tip: ask for concrete plans:

• GOOD: "Great to meet you! Are you free to [do activity] on [day]?"
• NOT SO GOOD: "Great to meet you! Would love to [do activity] sometime!"

And finally...

Sign up for online friend-ing.

The best difference between dating and making friends is you don't have to limit yourself to just one friend. You can do everything above while also meeting people online. I'm a Meetup-evangelist (Meetupvelist?) but Facebook has groups, and Google knows everything. I met a woman last night who started searching for German conversation groups and wound up creating her own Historic Pub group. The point is, the internet has a place for every interest, and those interests are materializing into real people doing real things, together. It's pretty great!

Did these ideas strike a chord? Am I overlooking something huge? Say so in the comments! 

Hardy and Anka at the Jodlerwirt

We realized Munich would be fun when we found the Jodlerwirt and met Hardy & Anka.

We had a big day of driving on the autobahn and through castle road (more on both of those in the previous post!) and were looking for some delicious, authentic German food.

What we found was not only authentic German food (thankfully still being served at 10pm) but authentic Germans, authentic German songs, a staff that spoke only German, a German accordion player, and lots brewed-in-house German beer.

This place was tiny, loud, and packed. We followed a waitress — definitely a Woman In Charge —through the crowd. I figured if she was pushing through, we had free reign to push, too, and we found ourselves looking at a table with another couple already there! They let us squeeze in and we ordered a couple of beers by pointing at their beers and smiling really big. (Lucky for us the Woman smiled back!)

We figured out how to order some food (chicken & beef? Or maybe pork? With mushrooms and delicious gravy, plus some pasta thing. Schnitzel? Again, pretty big language barrier at this point!) and took in our surroundings: loud, German pop music was playing while big groups of friends talked/yelled/laughed around their tables. Sometimes singing along, usually ending in a toast to whatever the song was about.

About the same time our food arrived, Hardy and Anka did, too, and slid into the table with the four of us — pretty much the only two seats left in the place. They spoke English! Yay!

They were an older couple — maybe in their late 60s? — but you could tell they refused to acknowledge that. We soon learned they live in Texas, and sometimes California, and sometimes Germany or Austria. And according to Hardy, Anka used to be a cop but according to Anka, she works at an antique store in Houston. And according to Anka, Hardy is a famous singer in Austria! Whatever it is they do, they were both delightfully drunk when we met them, an had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

When the accordion player started, Hardy would sing along and Anka would grab his and whosever hands she could (usually mine!) to sway left to right with the music. The guy from first couple at the table was, according to Anka, from Berlin, which "explained why he didn't know how to enjoy himself" when he chose to sit and enjoy the music and didn't also grab Britton's hand to sway like a drunkard through every song.

So, in between bites of food and acting like I knew what was going on by yelling syllables along with these German accordion tunes, and the swaying and the talking, we had a really good, how-did-we-get-here time, even though we couldn't speak, sing, or understand ANY of what was going on. (Turns out the Sinatra song, "bona sera, señorita, kiss me good night" is almost the same in German!)

They were thrilled that we knew how to play along ("most Americans are so stiff!") and that we just got married ("We just got married, too! In 1966!") and about their new grandbaby, which was either the second or third. The story was a little different each time.

As we walked back to the Best Western (ha! Travel across an ocean to stay at a Best Western!) we knew Munich was going to be a memorable leg of our journey.

Anka (L) and Hardy

PROST!