The most magical place on earth!

I'm going to Disneyworld, suckers!

Before you all throw down your latte and yell, 'Fuck you, Vanessa!' I should let you know that it was merely by chance and speedy email skills that I was awarded this fantastic press trip to Disneyworld.

I won't say that I'm not beyond-belief excited to be wined, dined and given the golden Disney treatment for six days, but I will say I am little nervous. First of all, I don't know anyone that's going, save for a big gay bear named Dave who seems like lots of fun and loves a few drinks, so at least I'll have one party animal on board. But it is sort of crazy going on a transatlantic flight with a group of people you've never met to an amusement park (sounds like the beginning of some really shit horror movie). Anyway, clearly I can suck up all my little baby fears because I get to hang out in the sun and surf while I meet celebrity chefs and go to Jellyrolls (look it up).

Alright so now that I'm done being a insufferable braggart - onto more about me. Last weekend was my birthday and it was extremely fun. After nine months, I finally feel like I've developed a solid social circle and that my life here is starting to take shape. I won't lie - it was a rather motley crew from work, some old high school friends, Francs, Sarah (the newest UK expat), plus a majestic return by Kate and Mads. We started out at Alphabet in Soho where I had entirely too many pink mojitos and strawberry ciders and wine and more cider. Fuck. Anyway we left there to another pub and then went dancing at my favourite dance place in London, The Arts Theatre Club, I don't know much, but someone fell down a flight a stairs and someone else wore a trench coat all night and it ended with a scrumptious kebab, so not sure what else a girl could ask for but I was pretty pleased.

Saturday was more partying, but this time in fancypants South Ken where everyone was posh and snobby and I felt entirely out of place and not nearly drunk enough. Sunday I went over to coworkers house for a Sunday roast and drank til the wee hours of the morning and slept through our alarm so showed up 2 hours late for work. Oops!

I have to say that despite all the fun I am having here, my heart aches daily for Canada. You'll never appreciate where you come from, and where your roots are until you rip them out from underneath you and transport yourself somewhere (almost) entirely different. There is so much you realize you love about your home, your country, your culture that you'd never even be able to identify if you didn't have to listen to jokes about living in Igloos and Justin Beiber and going 'oot and aboot' all the time. I want a PITCHER of beer and wings from The Wheat Sheaf and baseball games (little late for that, guess I'll settle for hockey - and I'm sorry are the leafs winning? What is happening!) and leaving for the bar at 12 and saying pants without people thinking you're talking about your underwear.

Mostly though, I miss the people. I can totally and fundamentally appreciate why people love Canadians now. We can laugh at ourselves (I'm struggling a bit on that though. 'FUCK OFF I DON'T SAY OOT AND ABOOT') and though I've been reading some terrible things about where our government is taking our country, I still believe politically, were regarded with a lot of respect. We're jovial and intelligent and we can party with the best of 'em and were fun. Fuck. We're SO fun.

So in six weeks, I'll be back in our fine country drinking our sweet ales and eating our sweet wings and regaling people with fun stories from the UK ('So then she asked him if he was a leprechaun and would do a jig for us, and I said Franca, were going to get murdered.') But before I return, I'll be hitting up Orlando, Barcelona and hopefully, I'll get a little northern flavour under my belt on a weekend trip to Newcastle.

But you know what the most magical place on earth really is? It's home.

Just kidding, it's Disneyworld. See you in a week BITCHES!

I'm backkkk!!!!

Messy and me!

OK so wow it's been a really long time since I wrote in here - and I've been meaning to for ages (I say this exact same thing to my grandma every 6.5 months when I call her - I am a terrible, terrible person and I'm going straight to hell).

Alright now that we've got that out of the way, shit, I've got a lot to catch you up on. OK so let's do the Coles notes version of the past six months.

Side note - is it really sad when you come to my blog and that post is 6 months old and you're like 'Jeez, she just really gave up, didn't she?'. It's like going to your high school reunion and realizing the formerly hottest chick in your year put on like 50 lbs and is still dating the formerly hottest dude in school (who is now also super fat). So I promise I won't give up - I really want to write more I just have no time and my eyes hurt after 9 hours of staring at a screen all day (which is why I come home and go on Facebook. What?) Anyway I promise I'll update more now. I PROMISE GRANDMA!

So...
- Went to Paris (awesome, had escargots, shopped, drank good wine and ate lots of cheese)
- Jess visited (it was sloppy, great to catch up, I missed her, scenes missing)
- Jeremy and Sarah visited (it was sloppy, great to catch up, Sarah looks like Sinead O'Connor, drank a lot, scenes missing, they went to Scotland [alas I did not go], did I mention drinking?)
- Ryan came to visit (we went to Dublin, it was sloppy, he played baseball, it was hilarious, scenes missing)
- I went to Wales - I visited all the places my Dad lived and met people that knew him and saw how beautiful that country (nation? state? nationstate? I still don't understand the UK's political geography) is and how totally weird and sweet some of the people are there. I highly recommend you go!
- My parents came to visit (stayed in Knightsbridge (fancypants town - it was nice and the bed was more comfortable then the one I have in my flat), I got nostalgic and cried like a baby, stayed up til 4:30 am drinking [they also informed me their last party in Port Credit was broken up by the police - and you wonder why I have a drinking problem?] I went to Oxford with my Dad and had a posh lunch in the senior common room of Balliol while my dad relived his glory days 'that's where I peed my pants'! (note: may or may not have happened)
- During this time I also managed to work, Lifestyle is doing superbly, I've written some things and we're moving up in the ranks. I've been there six months now! Which is totally crazy insane and I haven't been fired so it looks like I may officially have been accepted into the British workforce!

There was a boy for a while but not any more - so that part of my life is fairly uneventful. But there are lots of other exciting things happening in the future!

1) I'm going to Barcelona for work! Five days on a pan-Euro editorial conference-y thing where we wear t-shirts and have book club? I don't really know what's going on but all I know is I am going to eat some paella and chug some rioja and have a Spanish delight of a time!

2) I am going back to Toronto for a MONTH December 3rd (mark it in your calendars) til January 3rd. I'll be working from the Toronto office for a week and a bit and then THREE WEEKS OF HOLIDAYS! I cannot wait for COLD CANADIAN weather. No seriously, it will have been almost a year since I've been back which is totally crazy and I actually am getting progressively more homesick as the days goes by. I've avoided telling any of my British brethren though because one thing they don't really do so well here is emotion. They do cider and ale and jager bomb trains but they're not so big on 'feelings'. Which is OK since I've murdered most of my intellectual and emotional capabilities with alcohol. Derp de derp.

3) I AM GOING ON A PRESS TRIP TO DISNEYWORLD! I don't want to give too much away, but I am going for a week at the end of October with a bunch of other journalists and I am SO excited. I promise a big fat brief when I get back (no, I will not get you Mickey's fucking autograph - he's easily the lamest of all Disney characters). I went to poor-man's Disneyland last year but THIS year I'm doing the real deal! So get ready.

4) I like it here and I am going to stay. I don't know for how long but I've made my decision. I might need to move out of my servant's quarters because literally living in a 'bed' room is not so fun. But Franks and I are loving our adventure so far (and though I can't speak for her for certain) I think we're both gonna give Jolly Old England another year at least!

5) Have to add this in: my broseph is getting married! Dawn and Chris sitting in a tree..wait, that doesn't seem appropriate here. Anyway they are! Next year! And I'm a bridesmaid. So I'll back in Canada then in case you want to pencil me EXTRA early.

So I know this was a lame ass post but I promise now that we have gotten over our lover's quarrel, Patsy and I will work extra hard to keep you all up to date with the VERY exciting goings on in my life.

Namastē!

Indian waterfalls make me smile.

OK so I'm back from India and my apologies for not updating while I was away - but half the time I was working non-stop and half the time I was up in a mountain or on a houseboat with no access to internet. Also I wanted to verbal diarrhea this post all at once because breaking it up would ruin the narrative flow and interrupt my sleeping and drinking time while I was on holiday.

So holy shit, India is cool. I had such an amazing time - great food, great company, breathtaking views and was just a really eye-opening, life changing experience for me. And I mean life changing in the least pretentious way possible. I guess I should say it changed the way I think about things and how I see the world, and I know life changing sounds so goddamn narcissistic (but what else is this blog for, than to air my narcissism to the world?) but it really was a trip I will forever remember.

Alright enough philosophical bull shit - onto the goods!

So somehow, my coworker and I managed to bypass the volcano and the BA strike and make our flight on Monday at 2 pm. We flew business class which was pretty amazing. Usually I'm a first class kind of girl but I know Yahoo! is trying to save some dough so I guess I'll let it slide this time. Anyway it pretty much just means you're closer to the front of the plane and you get 2.5 inches of extra leg room. You also get lots of food and booze which I took advantage of without hesitation. We land in India at 4 am (after watching Shutter Island, Blindside and Sex and the City: The Movie and enjoying my first (and sweet lord, not my last) curry). As soon as we land in Bangalore (also Bengaluru for some strange reason), I feel a warm gust of wind welcome me off the plane and then BAM! a very foreign smell smack me right in my westernized face! It was truly a pungent odor but after five minutes or so, I just sort of got used to it.

We headed straight to our hotel so we could get some sleep in before we went to the office. We get a cab to Leela Palace and holy hell, it's the nicest hotel I've ever been to in my life (I fly first class but then stay in roach motels - evens things out on the money and culture front). The place was uber opulent - super high ceilings, three restaurants, rose petal fountains and giant chandeliers, men dressed in formal Indian attire opening our doors (I tried really hard not to make any verbal references to The Little Princess but I broke down after about 10 minutes. My coworker looked at me like I was severely mentally challenged).

Leela Palace: They do not mess around

Anyway we head up to our respective rooms which were also breathtaking - gorgeous view, super spacious, large sitting area, huge bathroom with a jacuzzi, etc, etc. Anyway it was one of those situations where I was working so much I didn't get to take advantage of anything which sort of sucked but it was still a baller hotel and one which I hope my company feels the need to send me to sometime in the future.

So we wake up after a five hour nap feeling pretty disoriented. We get in a cab and head to the tech park where the Yahoo offices are located. If anyone has read White Tiger (if you haven't, go do it now, you uncultured slob) it's set in Bangalore and the main character in the book talks about seeing the giant Yahoo! sign outside the airport and doing something rather lude to it. Anyway the Yahoo offices are located in the tech park along with a million other giant companies that have outsourced their customer service and engineering work to India. Apparently Bangalore used to be a retirement destination but has since turned into the mecca for Indian tech headquarters. So anyway, needless to stay the place was sterile and concrete jungle like and not really culturally enriching but whatevs.

So we meet the engineers that are working on the new site and get straight to work. The guys there are literally the most affable, kind and sweet men I’ve ever met – they’re so smiley and without sounding horrifically condescending, really adorable. They do this head shake thing that is the most transfixing, amazing thing ever. It’s like ‘no’ headshake but it’s as if their head and neck are separate entities – like a Dwight boblehead. It’s hypnotic and I am SO jealous that I can’t do it.

The other hilarious thing to mention is that my coworker and I are both rather tall (get ready for it) white women. The men in southern India are predominately short and, surprisingly, not white. I also packed in a rather culturally ignorant fashion and when I showed up to the office wearing a dress (of an appropriate length) I realized that you if you’re a chick in India, don’t be showing off those legs. There are like 1,000 + employees at the Bangalore office (including some women), so in a sea of modesty, I felt like a big, white, slaggy oaf in front of these small, brown, head shaking men.

I wore jeans for the rest of the week even though it was 30+ degrees outside.

So work was work not much to say there – ate a lot of bomb ass curry and then had to deal with my weak ass digestive system. Tried some good stuff and some bad stuff and some stuff that I wouldn’t even be able to identify if I was in front of the high commission of curry leaders but mostly, food was good. Didn’t drink a ton (STOP THE PRESSES) and also didn’t sleep a lot. I needed a vacation from my work vacation.

On Friday we got on a tiny ass plane and headed to Kerala - a state in the south western part of India. It’s a tourist spot and espouses a richer and more culturally dynamic travel experience than the concrete tech prison of Bangalore. Our brethren over in Bangalore actually organized the whole trip for us, got us a sweet discount and called us practically every hour on the hour to see if we’d gotten on the plane, gotten off the plane, eaten, slept, had a bowel movement, etc. Anyway they were super sweet but like so over the top hospitable it made me feel bad about myself. If they had come to the UK and needed help, I probably would have told them where to go shove it. But they would honestly walk in front of traffic for you, even if they only met you two days ago. Anyway they were super helpful and I was beyond appreciative of their kindness.

So, we land in Kerala and it is GODDAMN hot. Must have been 45 degrees and I was DYING. So we go outside and see a million dudes holding signs and then I see MY NAME ON A SIGN! Ohmigod I felt like a really important business person or a mafia boss or something. Anyway they spelt my name wrong, but that’s besides the point. So we meet Vinesh who we quickly realize is going to be our guide/driver/super head shaker for the rest of the journey.

He should be in India GQ (if it exists)

So we get in our sweet air conditioned car and drive five hours to the top of goddamn mountain! I also see an elephant on the side of the road on the way up there and make Vinesh stop so I can be a big dumb north American and get my picture taken with him. It’s actually a momma elephant and she has a chain on her leg and I immediately feel awful about the whole thing. But then I touch it and look like I have a touch of the downs and now seeing this picture, it makes it so much better.

Mama, you know I love you.

So we continue driving and get to our resort and it is looking nothing like our sweet Leela palace but it’s definitely better then the last hotel we say in (ohhh, forboding forshadowing!). Anyway, it’s nighttime when we settle in so we go and eat some curry for dinner. Sidenote: I love curry as much as the next currylover, but man, six days of curry does some weird shit to your digestive tract. Honestly if I even looked at a curry my stomach started screaming expletives at me. So I tried to stick to like the carb friendly non-dishes-made-with-10-million-spices stuff. What’s with that anyway? It’s like some competition to see how many effing spices they can get in one dish – we get it, you like SPICES. Stop abusing my internal organs.

Alright enough of my ignorant ramblings. So we wake up the next morning and BAM the view from our bedroom is incredible. We are 1500 feet up and looking down on dozens of tea plantations which are beautiful. We are literally in the clouds. It was quite amazing and the pictures don’t do it justice but the roads are rickety as hell and you feel like you just might die by-passing and swerving around cars on this narrow-ass road, but then you get up there and you’re like damn, almost dying was totally worth it! So Vinesh, who slept in his car (I felt really weird about this. Do we offer him our shower? Or to drive? Maybe I could take over on the head-shaking for a while? Give it up, Patsy, you suck. It’s never going to happen. SHUT UP BRAIN) collects us and we head to a wildlife park.

I was really excited because I expected like lions and tigers and shit to just jump out and start some parade that was musically accompanied like that scene from Aladdin when price Ali Ababwa rolls into town (my knowledge and understanding of other cultures is absolutely reprehensible thanks to Hollywood movies). All we saw were some dumb goats and a snake.

Goats are stupid.

We also befriended a group of young Indian boys who asked us off the bat if we were married – retrospectively I should have stirred the pot and said I was part of a lesbian polygamist sect but instead I said something really clever like ‘no’ and then they wouldn’t leave me alone the whole time and took a million pictures of us and took pictures in ridiculous poses and took my sunglasses and treated us like caged animals. It’s funny because in North America, doing that to a foreigner would be social suicide, but in India I just had to smile and laugh while they took crotch shots and asked me for the 50^th time to pose with them. Ah, so culturally enriching.

Anyway we peaced out of that LAME ass park and then went to a tea plantation. We watched some propaganda about how the British helped the Indians start the tea trade and farm their land and they helped them with medical benefits and built up their towns and everyone lived in absolutely harmony and no one was every abused or died at their hands and butterflies and unicorns frolicked in the tea fields while a rainbow glistened in the background.

Now go to the gift shop and buy some goddamn tea.

Then we did some shopping in the downtown district which was crazy – dirt roads and Indian flags and people trying to rip off foreigners and fruit stalls and poverty and more poverty and cashews (they have the best goddamn nuts in India. No lie. Make your jokes, I don’t even care because I ate the meatiest, saltiest, curriest cashews and you didn’t).

Then we headed back to our hotel for a little rest and then out again to see a traditional Kerala dance. I won’t even go into it cause it was weird as hell but they have these elaborate costumes and put on this like Indian Opera where they don’t sing or talk but they kind of like use facial expressions to communicate. I’ll be honest, I was scared.

I know I'm ignorant

After that we went to get a traditional ayurvedic massage. I won’t go into details because there are some things I won’t disclose on here but it was fully the most unwanted intimate experience I’ve ever had. I was on the whole Swedish train, expecting them to rub my back, maybe some music, maybe even a sprinkle of oil. This was a litre of oil, wooden board and absolutely no discretion about no-no areas. Then I sat in a steam bath trying to retain some of my shame. Then I had the most awkward shower out of a bucket with a bowl that if possible, made me feel even dirtier. Then I vowed to myself never ever EVER to have an ayurvedic massage again.

So the next day we got in our car (Vinesh slept there again – are you SURE you don’t want me to take over on the head shaking? COME ON). Then we had a five hour journey to the backwaters where we would meet our houseboat!

We arrive and it’s SO EFFING HOT MY HEAD IS GOING TO EXPLODE. I have never been this hot in my life. I am pale girl with welsh heritage and a penchant for whining and bitching about everything so extreme heat is like the catalyst for EXTREME complaining. Anyway we get on the boat which is awesome – huge, open, big bedroom, a kitchen and a giant dining and seating area. We have a crew of three – a driver, a cook and an engineer. We are going to drive for a couple hours, dock the boat, then get up in the morning and drive back.

I was on a boat!

I slather on SPF infinity and read my book (follow up to White Tiger; don’t read it, dude lost his mojo). I have a nap and then we stop and buy some mammoth shrimp that look like lobsters from the side of the boat. Then we have to make an illegal beer run because we NEED beer. How can you be on a boat with balmy weather on a river and not crack open a sweet cold beer. So our crew wrangle up some beer and we pass the time chatting, taking pictures, playing cards, blasting some tunes. It was most definitely my favourite experience. We docked the boat and took a swim which was AMAZING – though we went in our clothes because again, Indian woman don’t peel off into bikinis and our crew was a bunch of dudes so we took the safe route. Then we had a DELICIOUS dinner (those giant shrimps are the BOMB – best lobster shrimp I have ever eaten – anyone else think of Bubba from Forrest Gump when I wrote that? Just me? OK then. Then we played cards with the crew and got SCHOOLED in Gin Rummy. They don’t speak English but they will DESTROY you in cards. Then we headed to bed after a lightening storm and incredible sunset.

Ain't she a beaut?

We woke up the next day and headed back to the meeting place after a monsoon-like rainfall. Vinesh picked us up, dropped us off at the airport (we gave him a big ass tip and he looked super happy which made me happy and then sad that he never let me do the head shake).

We got on our plane back to Bangalore and stayed in the SEEDIEST motel ever. Our buddy from the Yahoo office had set it up. From the outside, Tranquil Suites (the sketchy places always name it something sinister sounding like that. It’s like Tranquil Suites: We’ll kill you in your sleep!) seemed alright. But when we got to our little unit, it was clear someone had been living there and just like moved out for the night. His stuff was in the closet and in the bathroom. The bathroom was a filth hole that hadn’t been cleaned and the bed looked dirty and had one thin ass blanket for the both of us. We got out of there to grab dinner and ended meeting some Australians who were filming a bollywood movie. They were crazy-insane and the girl with them with them was this leggy blonde tanned British chick who was wearing the shortest skirt I had ever seen and I was amazed someone could dress like that in a country like India. Anyway we got pretty wasted and got back to our hotel at like 1 am. We slept for a couple of hours and then woke up to catch our 6 am flight back to London. When Hazel got up she screamed and said there was a cockroach in the bathroom - I looked in and the fucker was like the size of my fist. I freaked out and wouldn’t go to the bathroom and held it til we got to the airport. I like to consider myself a country girl at heart – I don’t mind spiders and most bugs but cockroaches are the nastiest creatures in the world and they give me the heebie geebies in a terrifying way. So Ileft India being totally disgusted but I will definitely go back again – maybe Goa or Mumbai or do the Himalayas but definitely not back to TRANQUIL FUCKING SUITES.

Alright this was a long one and if you read all the way down here, you must really love me. We have another long weekend this weekend I have no plans really and Franca is gone so I will be doing it on the fly and hopefully have interesting things to write about when I get back.

Have a fantastic weekend in Canada land (or wherever you are) and I will write back sooner this time (no two week+ delay – I promise).

Cheers,

Patsy

Outrageous!

The infamous 'chav'

OK well I really have no excuse, this blog post is horrendously late and to the all parties involved, I apologize. I don't really have an excuse except I'm lazy and got drunk all week and then when I wasn't drunk I was too hungover to flex the writing muscle. I am hungover now but I am writing this because I owe it to my new British family (suckers) and those who find some kind of enjoyment out of these rambling posts.

Completely self-absorbed side note: I have to say I am completely overwhelmed with the compliments and accolades I have received from everyone about this blog. Some days I really do not want to write in here because I feel like I have nothing of note to write about. But then I realize if I stopped, it'd be like giving up on every other hobby in my life (I did play a mean alto sax. Take a seat, Lisa Simpson). And then I get these wonderful, sincere compliments and it makes me think alright Patsy, you suck it up and write that blog post! People are wasting their time reading about your life. And people value those 6-7 unproductive work hours each day - you should feel blessed they managed to squeeze you in next to their marathon sessions of Bejeweled and catching up on thisiswhyyourefat.com.

OK, so I'll start with last weekend

Let me set the scene for this weekend. Franca and I had been invited to Essex to visit Jono and Huggie and their children Militant and Benedict (not their real names - they've asked to remain anonymous). So Franca and I booted it from work on Friday, took the train to Kelvedon to begin, what was sure to be, an absolute shit show of a weekend.

We arrive and meet the adults (the dictators were misbehaving so they were sent to bed) and we cracked open the first of many, many bottles of wine and sat down to an absolutely delicious homemade dinner of shepherd's pie. We chatted about work and life and their two pubs (more of that later) and Huggie went to bed as she wasn't feeling well and we stayed up until the sun came up (around 5 am) polishing off 9 bottles of wine and effectively destroying whatever was left of our livers. The next day, Franca, with her incessant positive outlook on life, tried to justify that those three bottles each were consumed over the whole night, so it was OK. I assured her that no medial professional in their right mind would ever think consuming three bottles of wine a night was acceptable. (Unless they were Dr. unk. Get it? HAHA)

Alright so anyways, it's really hard writing this from memory because my long term (and let's be real here, short term) memory are pretty much as useless as my liver at this point in the game. Anyway Saturday we woke up and thought it would be a great idea to go to the grocery store even though Jono, Franca and I were still very much drunk. The grocery store was hilarious - Essex, if you don't know, isn't exactly the cultural mecca of England. If I had to compare it to something in Canada, I might say it's like Brantford or some other place of ill repute (sorry Clarke family - I feel like now that I've been let into the clan, I can make fun of where we live). Anyway, in England they call white trash 'Chavs' and their essentially tasteless men and women with questionable fashion sense who partake in none of that posh, crumpet eating, tea drinking, haughty talking Englishness you prejudice Canadians seem to believe in. Anyway we managed to see a couple of these majestic creatures at Tescos and man, oh man, was it hilarious. One woman actually came up to me as I was looking at the bottles of spray salad dressing (I don't even...). Anyway she voluntarily told me how her son loves that stuff because you don't have to put it in the fridge after you use it. I then looked at the directions on the bottle and it read: refrigerate immediately after first use. Precious.

So we head home and guess what? We mix up some delicious bloody mary's and start on lunch when Jono and Huggie's friends come over to join us. Wine is flowing, food is delicious and I'm beginning to feel the effects of my hangover in an immediate and aggressive fashion. I slyly slip upstairs and take a well needed nap. When I come to a couple hours later, I realize it's close to dinner time and we'll be going to one of Jono and Huggie's pub, The Compasses, for dinner. So we rally the troops. I am horrified to learn Franca has drunkenly been teaching the children math, while poppa bear, the dignified gentleman he is, is passed out on a chair watching Happy Feet. We finally wrangle the crew and head out.

The pub is beautiful - a more upscale version of what you would expect from a British pub. No old musty carpets and pork pies on the menu. This place is classy and food isn't just something you use to soak up the massive quantity of ale you've consumed. I had fish cakes to start and Chateaubriand for my main course and it was absolutely superb. The wine was also excellent (but I mean, I don't really descriminate when it comes to alcohol) but the children were tired so we headed home after dinner for an early night - which turned into a 3:30 am drinking session - yet again. Probably the best part of that night was Jono convincing me this unlabeled bottle of wine was some ridiculous expensive, perfectly aged Burgundy when it happened to be some 3 quid grape juice that they made down the road and reeked of sulfur. I also thought the air vent from their oven was a toaster. Sorry for slowly killing you, brain.

Sunday we awoke to - you guessed it - booze and food (it's a tough life we lead. Really quite awful. You wouldn't want any part of it). This time we head to their other pub, The Swan, for a nice afternoon lunch! We start off with a delicious mix of starters and then move into the dining area for the main course. This was place a little more casual but no less wonderful. I ordered fish and chips which were delicious! A whole piece of fish smothered in beer batter and deep fried golden brown, crispy chips served in a mini deep fry pot (so cute) and mushy peas (which apparently you get here with fish and chips. I won't question it though because they clearly know what is up when it comes to this particular dish). Anyway more wine was had and conversation was great and before we knew it, it was time to head back on that train and get back to our flat. Franca and I are literally over-fed, hungover zombies at this point and barely make it through our door before we pass out entirely. The weekend was relaxing, the company was exceptional and the food and wine were amazing (and not just because they were free!) So to Jono and Huggie who I know are reading this and are now thoroughly disgusted by the blatant and unapologetic ass-kissery of this blog post - thank you! You were wonderful, patient, kind and so generous to add two more large, misbehaving children to your brood. We appreciate it sincerely.

So after that my week was busy! Wednesday I had my first softball game with Yahoo! UK which was fun (even though we lost). Met a bunch of Americans at my office and some sales people whom I hadn't met before so that was fun. We played in Regents Park and it was absolutely beautiful - great weather and they had seven baseball pitches which was really cool. I didn't even know they played softball out here but I guess it's more of a corporate community building thing than a cherished national pastime. Anyway we went to the pub afterward and got pretty annihilated (apparently it's not OK to bring your own beer into a pub patio. Lesson learned). Thursday I met up with Natasha who is heading to Amsterdam and Spain via London so we had too many drinks, sushi and a great catch up.

Friday night I watched The Wire and went to bed early because I had to get ready to go shopping for my India trip the next day! Saturday I did my shopping and then went out with a friend for drinks and dinner at Embankment and it was wonderful - sat with a bottle of wine overlooking the river and The London Eye. Then we went to dinner at this Spanish restaurant which was delicious. Anyway, the night was great and I woke up this morning feeling slightly hungover but I packed and checked in for my flight and I leave for Bangalore tomorrow at 2 pm! I actually can't believe I am leaving in 14 hours. In fact, by the time you're at work tomorrow - I'll be in a plane on my way to Hindustan! I'll be working form the Bangalore office until Friday and then catch a flight to Kerala to sit on a house boat for three days! We get a chef and a captain and it sounds perfectly relaxing - I cannot wait! I collected my visa on Thursday, got all my shots on Friday (my doctor had to Google things and I got a little nervous - but I'm alive so that's a positive sign). I am all packed and ready to go and cannot wait. I am going to take tons of pictures and try and update as much as possible when I'm there but if for some reason I don't - I will give you a full debriefing (haha) when I'm back.

Alright kids - that's about it for me. Sorry this post took an eternity but you know, this genius needs time to stew and ferment - just like that well-aged bottle of sulphur wine Jono gave me.

Hope you're all doing well and have a fantastic week.

Cheers,

Patsy xoxo

Absolute rubbish!

An oldie, but a goodie!

Alright I’ve been absolute rubbish (or rubbage, as Franca would say. Her creative interpretation of the English [and British English] language never fails to amuse me) at updating this bad boy. Mostly it’s because I’ve had a week of being rather dull and lazy.

I feel like I haven’t stopped since I got here: job hunting, flat hunting, attempting not to murder the various incompetent customer service employees I’m forced to interact with on a daily basis. Plus I have to fit in at least 5 days of drinking every week – it’s a lot for a girl to take on! Plus I was in Sussex, Rome and Essex this weekend so I decided to be a total and absolute sloth last weekend and boy, was it ever wonderful.

Every time the sun comes out, the Brits take a bank holiday, so we had a long weekend this weekend which was quite glorious. Pretty sure a four day work week is standard here and it’s just one more thing I like about the European lifestyle – no one works and everyone is drunk constantly. Stop the presses - I've found heaven!

Friday I went out for work drinks which was alright but I have to say, the Yahoo crew over here isn’t nearly as fun the one back home. Everyone here is older and they’re in ‘long-term relationships' and talk about their gardens and weight watchers points and babies – all things that make me want to impale myself with my yahoo branded pen.

Anyway sometimes they venture across the street to this nasty ass pub called the Marquis de Granby for a pint. Literally, they work in Covent Garden – one of the most bustling, bar-heavy areas in the whole world and they choose to go to this grubby hole in the wall to get soused. I don’t understand it but I do drink their free beer so I guess I should stop complaining.

Then I met up with Franca for drinks and dinner to celebrate her new job at the BBC (I won’t get into how she got offered a job after one interview and I went for months before an employer would even send me a rejection email). Anyway, repress the rage and be happy! But no really, she wasn’t happy at her last job so I’m glad she found something new and so quickly! We had some Italian for dinner (a throw back to Rome) and then headed to our haunt, The New Rose, on Essex Road. We stayed for a pint and then left for our beds and a sweet lie in the next day.

Saturday we cleaned the whole shoebox and then I downloaded a bunch of old Disney movies I’ve had a hankering to watch lately (Aladdin, The Lion King and Beauty and the Beast). Managed to watch all of those over the weekend and man, does Disney know what is up when it comes to family entertainment! Still get a little teary eyed during that Mufasa scene (damn you, Scar! You two timing son of a jackal!) Saturday night we went out for tapas and then hit up a bunch of pubs, met a giant group of football players and headed home relatively early for more sleep.

Sunday I continued to veg and then went out for great Italian food with Ryan and Jenny. Hit up a pub up the street and downed martinis all night (they were pricey and a piece of boozy heaven!) Monday was more relaxing and then surprise, surprise – out for more drinks!

So yah, pretty exciting, eh? This is what you get when you demand a blog post – lots of mundane shit about a totally normal existence. You think my life is glitzy and glamorous ALL the time? Come on, I can’t be expected to be on every day of my life! Sometimes I sit around and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in my sweatpants and watch old episodes of Dr. Phil. Deal with it.

This weekend I am off to Essex to stay with family friends of Franca’s that we met up in Sussex (I’m getting around this country!). We are going to eat and drink and revive our Franks and Sense routine (apparently Millie has been counting down the days til out sleepover since we last saw them. ‘Three more sleeps!’ – just disgustingly adorable! Who knew a child could love a person with a heart as black and a liver as damaged as mine?

So Monday I will have a full report with exciting things (like eating and drinking, which I clearly never discussed in this post). I leave for India next Monday (a little late on applying for the Visa and apparently I need some inoculations before I go so I am coming to realize I am disastrously unprepared for this journey). So there will be more posts where I wear sweatpants in different places and eat different variations on the peanut butter and jelly sandwich!

Stay tuned friends and have a great weekend.

Cheers,

Patsy

The Eternal City

Hey, is it me or do these steps seem Spanish?

So friends, I'm back from Roma and wow, what a great weekend it was!

I left work at noon on Friday and took the tube to meet Franca at Gatwick. Giddy and excited about trip, we decided to start celebrating with a bottle of wine at the airport. Three hours later, we landed in Rome and it was hot and sticky. There's one thing that' really anticlimactic about landing at an airport - not that I expected to have like some mustachioed plump chef spin pizzas in my face as soon as I got off the plane, but you land in Italy and you expect some pizazz and it's like, 'Oh look, a huge parking lot!' Anyway we took a shuttle into the city with a few other travelers and a hilarious Roman driver. After everyone else got out, he started to chit chat, but realizing we were not Italian (or even European for that matter) he got back to yelling aggressively at the traffic. At first I thought the guy was laying it on thick for his foreign passengers, but I think this is what native Romans are like. They yell and bang their hands on the wheel and lean on their horn and say incomprehensible things in Italian out the window.

Finally we get dropped off at our hotel, ditch our bags and head out for dinner. We go to this rather crappy tourist trap for food and though I tried to be as gluttonous as possible (ordered the tortellini in cream sauce) the food was sub par, which was pretty tragic considering it was our first meal in Italy. The bruschetta however was delicious and we got some free drinks care of our waiter, so all in all not a bad night. We headed back to our hotel so we could get a head start on a full day in the morning.

We woke up to crappy weather - hot and humid which was pretty damn nasty. We decided we would take it easy that day, see a couple of things but save the good stuff for Sunday when the weather was supposed to be nicer. We walked across the street to buy a hop on, hop off bus ticket for two days. Unfortunately, we couldn't sit upstairs because it was raining and some dip shit had put decals all over the windows at the bottom of the bus, so we spend an hour staring at black silhouettes of famous Roman landmarks.

Or, you know, you could leave the windows of your tour bus CLEAR so people could see out of it. Just a suggestion.

Anyway, we hoped off at Barberini and headed out for lunch. Found this little cafe that had DELICIOUS looking food in the window. Franca and I split a proscuitto sandwich and tomato flat bread and ohmigod, they were both absolutely amazing. Memories from my jobs at various Italian bakeries/delis/grocery stores flooded back to me and I remembered hoping one day I would actually get to visit this culinary mecca and taste something authentically Italian. It was heavenly, and every morsel of food I ate after that first night was positively mindblowing. If for no other reason, go to Italy for the food.

After that we strolled over to Via dei Condotti to check out la creme de la creme of shopping in Rome. Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci - they were all there and all painfully out of budget but it was nice to window shop. We wandered around some more and found ourselves walking down some beautiful steps covered in pots of bright flowers and decided to snap some pictures. It was only when we reached the bottom that we realized we had been on the Spanish Steps. Such ignorant North Americans.

I had found in my Rome travel guide what was declared by the New York Times to be the best gelato in Rome, so after getting lost several times we finally found Il Gelato di San Crispino. Now, I won't say it wasn't good, but it was almost too gourmet. It was a little bland and too plain. Maybe for the gelato purists out there this would have hit the spot, but we wanted an holy portion of gelato in a cone, with a smaller cone on top for good measure. Anyway, after that, we grabbed some wine and more snacks (notice a theme?) and headed back to our hotel.

That night we got dolled up to within an inch of our lives and set out for a fun-filled evening. We ended up at Piazza de Repubblica for drinks. We sat outside and enjoyed a bottle of wine with a gorgeous porticos and a beautiful fountain. After that, we headed to a pizzeria - which is honestly what I came to Rome for.

Repubblica!

Pizza to me are like the culinary equivalent of blue jeans - they go with everything and the foundation of something beautiful. I'm a woman of simple tastes, so I went with a good old classic, the Pizza di buffala, while Francs got the pizza di funghi, both of which we shared. Before that we had some bruschetta, which again, was amazing. I don't know what the hell they put in those tomatoes but I would kill someone gladitor style for a permanent stock of those in my kitchen. The pizza was incredible, as was the bottle of wine. Afterwards we headed to a martini bar where we drank and enjoyed people watching. Afterwards we headed to an Irish pub which was probably unnecessary but fun none the less. We headed home drunk and tired and ready for sleep as we had a big day to look forward to Sunday.

Sunday we got up super early so we could cram in everything into one day. We got on the bus and headed to the Colosseum. As soon as we got off the bus, we see these two Roman soldiers, and being the perpetural tourist that I am, decided to start snapping pictures. Then the guy calls us over and poses with us, gives us his hat and his sword and we're laughing and he's being a typical perverted Roman saying things like 'Mamma mia' and 'are your breasts silicone?' Obviously I was bowled over by his suave and seductive nature. Anyway he was talking in Italian, his older gladiator friend was taking our picture, Franca was dressed up, we were all having a marvelous time.

Filthy Roman thief!

And then quite abruptly, the laughter died, the props were taken back, the accents seemed to fade and the cheerful mood quickly vanished.

'Five euros each. Five euro for you and five for you.'

Franca was beyond pissed and I felt a little ashamed and embarrassed by what is probably the oldest trick in the Roman book. Take advantage of two ignorant young girls, play nice and then rip the rug out from under them. We begrudgingly gave them the money but vowed never to be ripped off again, which resulted in Franca having some stern words with a couple of over enthusiastic tour guides.

Anyway we get into the Colosseum and I have to say, it was a pretty humbling experience. To think of the millions of people that have walked these ruins before you, the fact that such an ancient structure has withstood the test of time, gravity and inclement weather. The fact that the Romans were so technologically advanced is so mindblowing, even being there I had a hard time conceiving how such a monumental structure was built and still stands today.

After the Colosseum we headed to the Vatican for a little more Roman culture. We got there and the St. Peter's Square was packed. Franca and I stood in line to get into the Vatican and realized that more and more people were cramming into the square - many with huge signs. After standing in the sweltering heat for about 20 minutes, we hear massive, uproarious cheers and hear a voice come on the loud speakers reciting verses in Latin.

Holy shit! It's the Pope!

Pope Benny doing his thing.

Franca and I get through the security gates and then rush to the front of this designated area to get a look at good old Benny himself. There he was, sitting on his big chair way up above with the doors wide open, reading to his people. He was small, and far away, but it was still pretty cool to see him and to experience 200,000 proud and loud Italians screaming and cheering for the HBIC!

After that we headed toured the inside of the Vatican which was beautiful but the Sistine Chapel was closed for the day which sucked big time. We got over that quickly though as we headed off to an outside cafe for food and booze! Franca and I got this delicious pizza garlic bread, I had penne arrabiata and Francs had a salad. It was absolutely delicious and was followed up with a giant double scoup of gelato in a cone with a little cone on top! I had nutella and biscotti and oh man, it was delicious. Rich and tasty and truly satisfying.

After that Francs and I headed back to the hotel for a much needed nap. We got up for our last dinner at a great place across the street from the hotel. Wine and pizza (again, amazing) and we headed back to the hotel for our last night.

Monday morning we woke up and headed to Trevi Fountain - the place was absolutely jam packed with tourists but Franca and I managed to get some good shots. Then we headed to the Pantheon which was unfortunately under construction. We walked around Piazza Navona and checked out the beautiful paintings and restaurants (more cat calls, more 'mamma mias' more groans from us). Everyone in Rome is trying to take your money - street performers, artists, restauranteurs, gladiators (ugh). So you have to sort of ignore them which gets pretty damn tiring after a while.

After that Franca and I made out way to the train station so say goodbye to Rome. Got to the airport really early and decided hey, why not make the most of it, so we got drunk and ate a bunch of panninis. Got on the plane, passed out, got to Heathrow at 10 pm, took the tube home and finally got home and back into my own bed, completely knackered.

So that was an insanely long post about Rome but there's more good news. I was going to wait until it was absolutely certain and now it is so I can tell you!

I'm going to India! Yahoo has asked me to go for work-related purposes and my flight was booked last week, so I leave May 17th to the 25th! I'm going to Bangalore which is the Silicon Valley of India so not exactly a tourist destination but I am going with a coworker and we are going to try and travel for a couple of days afterward - either Goa or Kerala. I'm pretty excited about it and am excited that I won't really have to pay for much! Anyway I will keep you abreast of any updates but that is the latest news from Patsy the world traveler.

Alright friends this post has gone on far too long. I hope you're all doing well and I miss you muchly!

Will write back soon!

Cheers,

Patsy

When in Rome...

Don Draper: the new Julius Caesar.

So friends I know you've just been losing sleep over whether Patsy will get to take that plane ride to Rome this week.

Well you'll sleep soundly tonight knowing that in just 24 hours, I will be on a plane headed for the Eternal City. (Who's erupting now, Icelandic Volcano with impossible to pronounce name?)

The whole thing has actually been sort of a nightmare, really. Jenny and Ryan were stuck in South Africa until this morning because of that god forsaken volcano. They had to cancel their plane tickets and accommodations and Franca and I were going to follow suit. However, the discount (read: cheap ass) company we booked our tickets through were having none of it (in fact, when I called the phone centre I was greeted with with a rather rude automated message in German and was then abruptly hung up on. Damn Germans!)

Anyway we found out we either had to go or we would lose our money (£300, not an insignificant sum), so we said, 'hey, what the hell? When are we going to go to Rome again?' And isn't that the reason I came here? To get drunk in various European capitals? Or rather, to immerse myself in the culture, customs and rich history of ancient people?

Yah, no definitely the first one.

So Franca and I have booked a hotel and we leave tomorrow at 3 pm. I'm taking a half day tomorrow and taking Monday off and I'm honestly so pumped to go. I haven't been outside of London yet (been to Paris and Amsterdam a decade ago) but I'm really excited for Italy. In my heart, I think I would fall in love with Tuscany and have had an obsession with visiting since I was little (a love which was reignited when my Dad and Pam spent two weeks there on their honeymoon). Anyway, Rome is great and I am pleased I will finally be visiting this infamous, classical city.

Actually, this is pretty lame so let me preface this next sentence by saying I am completely aware of what a big giant loser I am. But I am actually really excited to go to Rome because of Mad Men.

Smokin' hot would be an understatement.

In Season 3, Don Draper and his minx of a wife Betty go to Rome on a business trip for Hilton Hotels. Anyway the cinematography was beautiful (as always) and there was something about this Ken and Barbie couple in this cosmopolitan setting that made my heart flutter. Also, Betty looked like a stone cold fox and gets hit on by every warm blooded Roman male that crosses her path (I've been told they do this to all women - I was also instructed to wear a ring on my wedding finger, but homie don't play that. I think I can handle some excitable European playboys. Let's see how it goes).

The best part of the episode is this scene where Betty is sitting alone outside a cafe, smoking and looking like a bombshell. European men begin to swoon, ogle and hit on her. Then Don comes up to the cafe, but sits away from her and observes her, pretending they don't know each other. Then he takes a seat next to her to shoo away those pesky Roman horndogs and they begin to converse like newly acquainted strangers.

The whole situation was just a beautiful international love affair dripping with 1960s modernism. Anyway, that's not to say I'm sitting at my desk in Betty's beehive hair-do, waiting for my Roman Don Draper to sweep me off my feet, but I'm just saying if something LIKE THAT were to happen while I was on holiday, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Alright friends, I hope you have a fantastic weekend. Supposed to be a beauty in London (unfortunately the weather in Rome isn't supposed to be so great, but let's hope those weather men have absolutely no idea what they're talking about. Oh, wait...)

Cheers,

Patsy

Lovely Jubblies

The Henfield Estate - where everybody knows your name.

So ignore my last post about me posting more often because apparently not only do I break promises, I also lie.

Alright well I don't really have an excuse this time, except for the fact that things seem to happen in spurts over here. So for a couple of days I'm home every night watching Supersize vs. Superskinny and being a lazy ass which isn't worth blogging about and then I'll do a lot of stuff all at once and have to do one big, huge update to catch everyone up to speed!

So, Friday Franca and I took the train up to West Sussex to visit her family friends. It was absolutely beautiful out and the train ride was really quite nice - you slowly you see yourself moving out of the big smoke and literally, onto greener pastures. We got into Henfield at about 7 pm. When we arrived we we're greeted by Mags and Nick, the grandparents and owner of the beautiful farm house we stayed in. Seriously, the place looked like something out of a Jane Austen novel (plus a tennis court, just for good measure). Then there was Huggie and Johno, the second generation, and then their kids, Millie and Ben, those rascally little children.

Franca and I are obsessed with little British kids (in a completely legal, inoffensiev kind of way). We find everything they say hilarious (think: Charlie, that really hurt!) and we often find ourselves laughing quite openly at them in public places (probably not good for that burgeoning self esteem).

Anyway I was enamored with these kids as soon as we got in the door. When we arrived, we were told I've already been assigned a nickname and I cringe, thinking of past nicknames that continue to haunt me ('VG Vagina' was especially painful).

So apparently, Huggie and Johno had told the kids that Franca and her friend were coming to visit but they couldn't remember my name. Millie (that little firecracker) says 'Oh, I know what her name is.' And the parents respond, 'Oh yah? What is it?' And she says, 'it's sense. Frank and sense.'

Frankincense. And so the nickname was born and for the remainder of the weekend, I was cense.

Friday night we ate a delicious dinner and chatted til the wee hours. Johno, Franca and I ended staying up until 5 am, polishing off 10 bottles of wine throughout the evening. I was feeling really rough on Saturday when we got up and headed straight to the pub.

Yah, this is what they do here. They drink all night, wake up and drink all day. Hair of the dog isn't a turn of phrase - it's a daily tradition. In fact, at lunch one day, Mags actually said 'I don't like any non-alcohol drinks' and I thought, at the moment, I had met my kindred spirit.

So we headed to a beautiful pub, 'The Roayl Oak' and sat outside all day enjoying Ginger beer Shandies and a ploughman's platter and enjoying the absolutely gorgeous weather. Then we went to visit with more family members and then back to the house for, you guessed it, more booze and food!

The house we stayed in was absolutely gorgeous - old wood planks, really beautiful stone work, beautiful gardens, rolling pastures, tons of bedrooms and bathrooms with a very quaint, countryside ambiance. It reminded me a lot of Milton and the house I grew up in and it was a nice nostalgic trip down memory lane.

Anyway we ate delicious dinner that evening and though we had promised not to make Saturday night another big one, we ended up staying up til 5 am again and drinking another 10 bottles of wine.

The first step of acceptance is recognizing that you have problem.

Anyway, Sunday we went to this fantastic restaurant and drank delicious wine and had a sunday roast and my first taste of sticky date pudding (damn, pudding, where have you been all my life? That stuff was delicious!) We came back to the house and played my first, thrown together game of cricket with the kids (those years of softball definitely came in handy) which was a whole lot of fun.

So needless to say I was a total mess at work yesterday and want nothing more than to crawl into my bed and sleep for the rest of my life.

One exciting part of Saturday was discussing Johno and Huggie's pubs. They own two pubs in Essex that have won pub of the year in the UK and are quite well respected. Anyway, Johno and Huggie invited Franca and I to take part in their chef for a day program, where you get to help the cooks, shadow them in the kitchen, experience a lunch and dinner service and then enjoy a meal for two that you've cooked yourself. So I told them I would blog about it and put it up on Yahoo (and here) which is very exciting. It probably won't be for a while, but I will let you know as soon as we get in there!

We're also going to Essex to visit Huggie and Johno again in a couple of weeks so more hilarious nights of drunken debauchery are to follow! Stay tuned.

Also Franca and I are meant to go to Rome on Friday but as I'm sure you know, that goddamn volcano is getting in the way - and now another one has erupted! Even if the flight ban is lifted i London, Heathrow is going to be a nightmare - but fingers crossed that everything gets sorted out by Friday.

Alright I'm sorry that this blog post was so unfunny but my brain is like a giant pile of garbage right now. I'll get it back soon and have some more entertaining posts to keep you all happy.

Alright friends, hope you had a great weekend. The weather here was fantastic and made me realize how absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous this country is when the sun shines. Enjoy your week and I'lll be in touch soon.

Cheers,

Patsy

I got hooked up (wirelessly, that is)!

Smug grafitti, thinks it's so smart.

Alright so I apologize for taking my goddamn time updating patsy. I've been really busy with work and...

Blah blah blah shut up, Vanessa. You're not all big and important now just because you have a job. So get off your damn snooty English high horse and write some more stories about what a drunken waste of a slag you are.

Alright, geez. Damn, you guys are mean today.

Well first things first - I just finished setting up our INTERNET!

OHMIGOD WIRELESS. Where the HELL have you been my whole life? Oh, that's right, the eternal queue set up by Satan's minions down at Sky. Let me tell you something, the customer service employees at Sky definitely have my account red flagged. It's not even a flag, it's like a big skull and crossbones when you open that bitch up because I am NOT someone to be fucked with - especially when it comes to my internet connection (that's right, I'm a nerdy bitch).

Anyway I won't get into the specifics BUT we're hooked up and ready to go! Now you'll be getting so many updates you'll be like: JFC Vanessa, calm the hell down on all the updates. No one cares that you just ate a box of brownies and a sleeve of Pringles and now you're beached out on your loveseat watching Toddlers and Tiaras.

But I know you still want updates, so let's have some, shall we? We'll go back to Friday because I'm pretty slow and can't remember things if they happened more than like 5 days ago. Friday I celebrated the end of my first (shortened) work week! And hallelujah, we had work drinks to celebrate!

Every couple of weeks, if Yahoo hits their targets, they take the whole office out to a local pub, line the bar with pints and let the animals loose. So I took it upon myself to savour three delicious, free, company-supplied pints and mingle with my coworkers. Franca came along and I got to see the crew outside of the office, which was nice. Most of the time they're physically affixed to their desks so it's nice to see that they enjoy sunlight, alcohol and my witty, engaging repartee. After that, Franca and I went out for Indian food and it was SO tasty. However, we were both stuffed and sort of liquored up, so we headed home to bed.

Saturday morning was absolutely beautiful - the best day, weather-wise, since I landed in the UK. We got up nice and early and headed down to Portobello Market in Notting Hill. Yes, that Notting Hill. And you bet they capiltized on that movie like no one's business (well, I guess it was their business. Damn what a terrible choice of phrase!). I don't know how many goddamn posters, photos, framed pictures I saw of Hugh Grant's stupid face, but it was too many.

Anyway the market was incredible - tons of antiques, vintage clothes, GREAT food (we had a Greek chorizo sandwich which was AMAZING). I also had fresh coconut water AND we bought cupcakes from Hummingbird bakery which were the bomb diggity. We even sat on a rooftop patio and had a beer and enjoyed the rays of sunshine which I thought were forbidden by God himself to shine here.

Franca and I picked up some sweet prints for our living room and bedrooms and then headed home. That night we went out to see some stand-up comedy in Soho, which I have to say was pretty funny. Especially when accompanied by a pitcher of booze.

I have come to learn British people find the following things hilarious:

- Jokes about the middle class/anyone who has money (every single comedian [there were four] made jokes about where people lived and whether they had butlers/servants. Hilarity ensured).
- Jokes about Americans (although, really, who doesn't make fun of Americans?).
- Jokes about racial division in Britain (only if the comedian is Indian)

So, I mean, they were still funny and maybe every country has some go-to subject matter for their routines but it was like, alright, we get it, you like to make fun of people who drive Bentleys and live in Knightsbridge.

Despite the blatant classism that exists in the UK, I've noticed something that REALLY seperates the Brits from North Americans (or more specifically, Americans). They really don't like to brag about how much money they have. I mean sure, some live in castles that are so big they forget how to get their bedrooms, but they aren't 'flashy'. There's a sense of old money here and it sems like most people don't feel the need to be so flagrant about letting people know they are STACKED. Which I guess is why the jokes about the middle class are so popular - there seems to be an unwritten rule here that boasting is just not acceptable. Even when I was playing a drinking game a couple of weeks ago, one of the rules was don't gloat or boast when your partner screws up.

Excuse me? Where's the fun in that? Half the game is chirping your opponents!

But I digress. The main point is that the British are sort of like Canadians in that they're a little more subtle and discreet than their big, brash American neighbours (puts away her giant, sweeping generalization-making paintbrush). Anyway that's just what I think. And obviously you think my opinion is worth something or you wouldn't be reading this right now.

No wait, come back!

OK so sunday we got up SO early because Franca's godfather Peter was picking us up for a day in Chiswick! We went down to the Thames in Hammersith and went on a nice, long two hour walk by the river. The weather was gorgeous and the family dog Oscar, that little rascal, came along too. There were kayakers and golfer and sailors and runners and all kind of physical activity to be had. We had a great chat and soaked up the sunshine before heading to The Dove (where I went with my second cousin a few months back) for a drink. I had a Bloody Mary (would give my liver for a Caesar right now) and it was delectable.

After that we headed home for a beautiful lunch with some wine, sat outside reading the paper, Franca and I played some Monopoly and then had a delicious lamb dinner, more wine and watched the Masters. We stayed over night and we're off to work in the morning.

So that about catches us up! Although I have some more exciting news - Franca and I booked a trip to Rome with Jenny and Ryan! We're going next weekend for three nights and staying at a beautiful looking apartment with another couple so it should be lots of fun! We're also off to Essex (or Sussex, I keep messing those up) to visit Franca's family: either way it's beautiful English countryside so I will take lots of pictures and fill you in on our adventures upon my return. I'll update this week if anything interesting happens (probably not because I'm broke so until I get paid so I am laying low) but I'll let you know if the situation changes.

Alright friends, that's about it. Hope you're all doing well and stay tuned for more excitement!

Cheers,

Patsy xoxo

PS I'd like to dedicate this post to my sweet sweet wife, Sarah Cole. I love you!

Officially official

James Cameron, look at what you've done.

So, despite the raucous-looking image above, I did actually have a relatively quiet weekend. But not before taking the Bender Express to Bendertown!

Thursday after work I celebrated my 10 days of freelance work by heading out for drinks with some friends from the office to this pub called Phoenix (it's actually a members-only bar, but if you get in before 8 pm, you're OK. Are you confused about that? Well so am I. Have a drink.) Anyway got pre-sauced there and celebrated my last day before my first real day of full-time work!

Then I headed up to Shoreditch to meet up with Franca and her cousins for a night of boozy mayhem. We met at a PACKED pub where the gang was playing pool (I use the term play loosely as the cue ball spent more time in the air and on the floor than rolling around that soft green felt). I chugged a pint (like a good Canadian does) and then we headed for a delicious dinner of dim sum at Drunken Monkey.

Drunken Monkey was pretty awesome - a pub/bar/cool time hang out that was packed to the brim with Londoners. We managed to snag ourselves a table where we ate SO much dim sum, drank copious amounts of raspberry mojitos and for some ill-conceived reason, began playing a barrage of drinking games (never have I ever was a bad idea) until we decided to destroy another fine London establishment.

We drunkenly stumbled out into the streets and headed to one lame bar (that closed at midnight, pfft) and then ended up at Cargo, which is where the beautiful picture above is taken. My mind was a little blurry from intoxication, but I do remember that this blue breasted woman was on stilts and making the rounds at the bar like a champion.

Franca and I ditched at about 3, ended up taking black cab home because we were too drunk to find the bus stop. In a rather insane move, I decided making grilled cheese sandwiches at 4 am was an excellent idea and managed to avoid third degree burns from the open flames (but umm, I burnt the sandwiches).

Friday morning was rough and Franca and I were in no shape to do anything, so we went and got ourselves a fry-up, some snacks and watched Pretty Woman - umm, I mean we went to church and thanked Jesus for his holy sacrifice because it was Good Friday.

Friday night we went to Giraffe for dinner (had some kind of exorbitantly priced Asian salad. If there's one thing they're good at over here, it's overcharging for shitty food). Then we hit up The New Rose where we met a lovely bunch of Brits and an Australian whom we drank with for the rest of the evening. We made it home at about 4, sans grilled cheese.

Saturday I contemplated whether I should, in fact, check myself into rehab, and spent the rest of the day watching The Wire. Ditto for Sunday. Franca went to a fam jam in Bristol and I wanted to cuddle up with some Stringer Bell for the rest of my life (What is UP with season 3? Goddamn.) so the rest of the weekend was relatively low key. Sunday, met up with Dan Milano for a coffee and a catch up. And Monday I met Jenny for a drink at Angelic which turned into an all day booze fest (really should have checked into AA).

But I took two days off drinking, OK, Dad? Plus, you're Welsh so it's your fault I'm like this. Love you!

Yesterday I officially started my (official) first day at Yahoo! UK. Things are great - got my computer and my old email address back. Nothing too much to report other than that. I had Jenny and Ryan over for dinner last night where we planned a trip to Rome at the end of April, so that's pretty exciting. Tonight I am out for dinner with my sweet, rather eccentric second cousin, so that should be fun.

This weekend Franca and I are going to try and take it easy; a night at her godfather's, a night of dinner and wine with Dan and then, if she's lucky, a date night with me.

Oh and one more thing: James. He texted me on Saturday at 5:50 pm saying he was sorry for the late reply but he was going to take it easy tonight cause he had a rough one the night before. Haven't heard from him since. Lame. Whatever, you win some, you lose some. Onward and upward, I say. Maybe I'll meet some babes in Rome.

Alright well hope you're having a great hump day! Write back soon!

Cheers,

Patsy

Throw a wobbly!

She ain't a ho or a slut, she's a slag.

Well, I don't have much to report in terms of actually doing anything over the last couple of days, but I do have some eye opening and introspective thoughts to share about living in Jolly Old - and I know my sharp and witty insights are what keep you all coming back! *Unrelated, self-involved side note: the ex-patsy just broke 1,000 pageviews and I have 267 active readers, so thanks friends, for tuning in to find out about my drunken escapades on such a regular basis.

So, one of the biggest issues I'm having adjusting to life in London is the language. Sure, I thought I'd have to translate a random phrase here or there. What's a chav? Who's a minger? Sorry, a WAG?

But British English (or proper English, as they say over here. Brits are pretty full of themselves, I have to say [sorry, Dad]) is an entirely different language than Canadian english. It's not just words and phrases but it's greetings, colloquialisms, tone, delivery - everything about how they speak is so different. And the worst part is, I've come to discover I am a laughable stereotype of a Canadian: I say 'eh?', 'oh, yah?' and 'I see' constantly (not phrases they would dare utter this side of the pond). I also say things that outside of our great country sound pretty lame: awesome, sweet, absolutely (for yes), the list goes on. I had no idea how many cultural differences existed within language, but maybe that's because I am big fat ignorant North American who isn't aware of the superiority of British English.

Anyway, it most cases and in most jobs, it wouldn't be such a big deal. I would slowly pick up certain words and phrases, but most likely retain my Canadianisms for novelty purposes and as a result of my own petulancy. But I am working in an editorial capacity here, so it's actually crucial that I start saying (and understanding) things like 'cheeky' and 'dog's bollocks' convincingly.

There was an episode of 'Friends' where Phoebe and Monica try to cut out their old buddy (the milf from American Pie) who returned to New York after living in London . Anyway, she comes back and starts talking in this horrible British accent and saying thing like 'mobile' and 'arse' and they make fun of her for being such a cultural leech and a phony. I am similarly scared I will return to Canada, uttering random British slang and have all my friends say: 'Well if you didn't want to get me on my mobile, then don't call me on my mobile!'

Anyway, the guys at Yahoo really take the piss (see what I did there?) about me not speaking 'proper British' English. I say things like roommate instead of flatmate ('Well, do you live in the same ROOM? No? Then it doesn't make any sense.') and subway instead of underground (that one is sort of legit). I say dollar instead of pound constantly, which I know is annoying. I also drafted up an email to a potential columnist for the site and my coworker had to completely re-write it because they don't say things like 'guy' here.

The hardest part is that my Canadianisms are so much a part of who I am and have been lovingly cultivated and perfected over the last 24 years. How can I be expected to just drop all my pleases, thank yous, ehs and oh yahs without essentially losing a part of myself?

I guess I'll have to develop some kind of double identity: Vanessa the editor and Vanessa the unapologetic Canadian tourist.

Some phrases however, I have no problem adopting: slag and minger are my top two. 'Popping round the pub for a pint' just rolls off the tongue and is an activity I participate in enthusiastically and often.

I'm sure I'll continue to struggle with this for many years to come. But for now, I'll continue to smile when they forget Canada and America aren't the same country and remind them our beer is stronger, our winters are colder and we fucking love poutine.

Hope you're having a great hump day

Cheers,

Patsy xo

Hey big spender

Bob Bob Ricard

Well friends, I had an absolutely fantastic weekend in London - and finally, enjoyed it as an employed woman!

Friday I was still beaming from the fact that I won't have to sell myself on the street to pay my rent (still considering that as a moonlighting gig). So as soon as 6 pm rolled around, I was at Covent Garden Market getting my drink on to celebrate! Met up with Franca and we headed to Dirty Martini which was absolutely packed. I've come to learn that the Brits do not like to be too far from an alcoholic beverage after a work week so every pub/bar/restaurant/etc. is usually packed to the rafters with thirsty weekend warriors - and I was finally one of them!

However the place was WAY too busy so we had a drink and then hit up an outside heated patio for a bottle of wine. We met up with Kate and then headed over to Pasta Cafe for more wine and tons of food (Franca signed up for this thing called TopTable, and you get 50% off your whole meal, minus alcohol). Our entire bill, two starters, three mains and two desserts plus two bottles of wine came to like £60! Pretty amazing.

We were pretty tired and stuffed after our meal so we headed back home around midnight instead of hitting up the town. Needless to say, Covent Garden is a ZOO on a Friday night. Next time I think we'll opt for a liquid dinner and hit up some more pubs in the area.

Saturday morning, Franca and I got up and power shopped in the most literal sense of the term. We hit up Regent Street and Oxford Street and did some serious damage to our credit cards. I have justified all of my purchases because I now I have a job (let's disregard the fact I've been living off my credit card for the last two months and won't see a paycheck for a least one more).

Anyway, it was some well-needed retail therapy.

After that, we headed home and I got ready for my date. I was actually pretty nervous because we met (surprise, surprise) under pretty drunken circumstances and I wasn't 100% sure what James looked like. Anyway we met at Picadilly Circus (absolutely the worst place to meet for a date in London. There are about 200 tube exits and a million different ways you could get lost there). Anyway we finally met up with each other after a somewhat awkward phone call trying to find out where we both were.

So James was actually quite cute (thank god). He was wearing a really smart hat and tweed blazer and plaid shirt. He's blonde and tall and has thick-rimmed black glasses (I love a boy in glasses). Anyway we met and walked to this restaurant/bar he'd made reservations at. Immediately, conversation was super easy and he was very laid back and relaxed. Things were going well and got much better when we got into Bob Bob Ricard.

This place was so cool: super retro decor, aquamarine, 1950s chairs and diner-style booths with dim lighting and waiters and waitresses dressed in hot pink tuxedos. The table even had a 'Press for champagne' button which we didn't use but I thought was pretty cool. Anyway we stayed there and drank £10 drinks and chatted about life and the night we had met (neither of us seemed to remember very much). Anyway I immediately felt at ease around him and after our first three delicious drinks, we left and headed to this jazz and blues bar up the street.

The only thing better than Bob Bob Ricard's was The Charlotte Street Blues Bar. We walk in, pay £10 and enter this loud, dark bar with an awesome live jazz band playing: the place was packed with soused, well-dressed Londoners. I was amazed by the environment and impressed with James' knowledge of London's hidden nightlife gems. Anyway they didn't serve draught upstairs so we headed downstairs and that was even cooler! It was a swing dancing bar that looked like a speak easy. It was super dark with low ceilings, 1940s movies playing on a projector on one side of the room, awesome big band music playing and so many people in the coolest garb dancing their faces off. The coolest part was that they all switched partners for each new song, so they were essentially dancing with strangers in three minute intervals. I was so mesmerized by this place and cannot wait to go back!

James and I ended up getting absolutely annihilated - double fisting beer and whiskey all night, shots of Jager, cocktails. It was messy. I didn't get home until 5 am. At one point in the night while we were outside smoking, he asked me if I had any hobbies. Instead of saying drinking, I stupidly said, yes actually, I have a blog. He became really interested in this, asking if he'd been blogged about and what I said and blah blah blah. I accidentally told him to the name of the blog but I'm banking on the fact that he was far too wasted to remember. Anyway we have plans to hang out on Saturday. My dad informed me the Oxford and Cambridge boat races are this weekend and he lives in Hammersmith - so I think I might suggest we do that!

Sunday, feeling a little worse for wear, I managed to get up with Franca and head to the Farmer's Market to grab some food and flowers for the house. Then we made the epic journey to Camden Market which was absolutely amazing. It's an open air market with so many stalls of clothes, jewelry, art, shoes, drug paraphernalia, you name it, they've got it. It's quite beautiful too because Camden Lock is located on the River Thames and boasts floating restaurants and a great view. The food market was also amazing: giant vats of curries, chinese food, Mexican food, you name it, they have it. I had a plate of nachos which I was hoping would fulfill my cravings. Unfortunately, it was sub par and I think I'll have to resign myself to the fact that the Brits just cannot do Mexican cuisine.

After that Franca and I headed home, made dinner, watched several episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians (I'm now obsessed) and I went to bed at 10 pm because I was absolutely shattered. I am back at work now, with a four day work week and then a four day weekend! I'm pretty excited for a break from my grueling two weeks of work (hehe) and excited to continue to explore this huge city some more.

Hope you're all doing well, had a great weekend and are having a happy Monday!

Cheers,

Patsy