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

E is for employed!

Alright so I know you're all going to be really sad that I can't bitch and moan about how terrible/cracked out/self-involved all the employers in London are. But I'm sorry to say that this chick is officially employed again!

Last night, at 5:55 pm (made me wait all day, bastards!) I got an official (and let's be real here, quite generous) offer from Yahoo! I accepted that baby like no one's business and told MSN where to shove it at the same time.

I didn't actually do that, I just really wanted to say that I did.

So my contract work ends next Thursday, then we have a FOUR day weekend for Easter and I start officially on April 6th. So things are looking up for Patsy. Looking up indeed!

I have to say, I'm sorry I've been so negligent with this blog lately - I don't want to let it run dry because then it'll be like everyone else's pet project that eventually loses steam.

I just had a sitcom-style mental image of a closet full of sporting equipment and knitting stuff and instruments and all that other shit that people buy assuming they are going to completely change their life and then give up after a week. That will NOT happen with the expatsy. I swear on my life!

So in other news, I went out in Covent Garden for drinks after work last night with a coworker and it was great. I just love this area. We went to this place called Salvador and Amandas and it was so cute - just a small little doorway that you could totally miss but step inside and it's got HUGE ceilings and with a huge bar, amazing tapas and absolutely delicious sangria. Anyway Sam (my new friend) and I had a great chat and she had nice things to say about me and she was rooting for me an she's happy I'm on board and other things I want to mention in a completely long winded, self-flagellating manner.

Anyway, I am glad I already have a friend at the office. There's a lot of boys here though, and I find them a little harder to chat to but I'll break down those walls eventually. I think I might try and start a Yahoo UK softball team over here. Now I just need to think of a clever name...

After drinks, I met up with Dan Milano for dinner at the Slug and Lettuce. We celebrated the fact that we are both finally employed. He actually writes content for a company that works with Yahoo, so he knows some of the people in my office. Small world. After that I met up with Franca for more drinks at Zizou and we celebrated that fact she won't have to listen to me bitch about being out of work! Hooray!

Tonight, surprise surprise, I am going out for drinks in Covent Garden with Franca and Kate for round two of celebrations. We're going to head out for a cheap bite and then see what this great part of the city has to offer in terms of nightlife. Tomorrow I have my date; not sure on the details yet - James said it's going to be a 'surprise' which could either be fun or totally disastrous. More to come on that front. I am also going to do some serious retail damage this weekend on Oxford Street!

Alright so I will really try to update this daily. And I know you've ALL been losing sleep over my current state of employment. So you can all breathe a sigh of relief - the madness is over.

Have a superb weekends and I will write more soon. PROMISE!

Cheers,

Patsy

Back at the 'hoo

Alright first of all, I'm so sorry it's been a week since I've updated this bad boy. I actually have been really busy and I have so much to fill you in on.

So right now I'm sitting at the Yahoo! UK office, nearing the end of my work day. It's been a lot of fun so far - researching and making spreadsheets and pretending that I'm really important. They took me out for lunch on Friday to this gourmet burger barn which was delicious! Everyone is really nice and the team I'm working with are a lot of fun. All in all, I'm pretty happy here and I find out Thursday if I get a job full time - so finger's crossed!

So I stared work on last friday, but before that I got a call back from the MSN recruiter who asked me to come in. So I got up ass early on Friday, took the bus so Borough and wrote a copy writing test. Then the guy tells me they want to offer me the job - essentially doing search marketing and content development for Bing in the UK. It's not really my cup of tea but I was pretty happy that I'd finally been offered a job that wasn't located in the ass end of nowhere at some crack factory. So I told him my situation with Yahoo - that I was waiting on them but would take the job if that didn't work out. So then I went to my first day of work and told my boss what the situation was. I told them I needed to know the status of my job by the end of next week (now this week) so thankfully, I get to know sooner rather than later if I'll be a yahooligan again! Hooray!

So in other news, Dylan didn't call me all week and broke our date on Thursday. After being sort of sad about the situation, I decided not to let this dude get me down (the guy had his birthday tattooed on his arm - is that really someone I want to be spending my time with? The answer is yes because he's really good looking and I'm really shallow).

So by Wednesday I was feeling a little down and Franca graciously offered to take me out for a celebratory dinner to Pizza Express to congratulate me on my new (temporary) job! Anyway dinner was delicious (as was the cheesecake and the two bottles of wine). So we decided to hit up an Irish pub (to celebrate St. Patty's Day) and ran into several friendly, drunken Londoners.

Then we met James and David who we ended up drinking with for the rest of the evening. James kept calling himself McNaulty (the lead detective from The Wire, for those who don't know). Anyway, under normal circumstances I would have assumed this guy was a complete loser but he kept buying me shots of Jameson so I let it go. Anyway we had a great night with them and at the end of the night, I gave him my number. He texted me Saturday and we have a date this Saturday (pending he doesn't pull a Dylan). And then who should I get a text from right after James texts me but good ol' Dylan. He said he was working 15 hour shifts this week and sorry he didn't get in touch and blah blah blah. I texted him back being like you owe me big time but I'm pretty much done with the douchebag. No one stands up Patsy! So I'm not sure what we're doing Saturday but I will let you know how it goes.

Sunday Franca and I got up and had a delicious breakfast at S & M with Jenny. Then we went to the Islington Farmer's Market and got us some groceries. After that, we went grocery shopping and cleaned our house! It was a super productive day which is a rarity for me. I feel like I've been more productive these past two months than I've been in the last year of my life!

I'm worried this blog is going to get uber boring now that I'm working (and not attending hilarious interviews where I have to pretend I'm really into foxes that play bingo). But I will make sure to do lots and see lots and take lots and lots of pictures (I've been kind of shitty about that lately).

Anyway I hope you are all well and sorry again this post took so long. I love and miss you all!

Cheers,

Patsy

W is for weekend

Well friends, London was absolutely beautiful this weekend: clear skies coupled with the warm, welcoming rays of sunshine. I didn't know the city could be this breathtaking but for all the shit it gets for being home to grey skies and constant rain, when you get a sunny day in London, it's quite spectacular.

Saturday morning we got up at 10 am for what has been dubbed 'Franca's tour'. Anyone who knows Franca knows that she loves to plan things (I am being as euphemistic as possible with this description). I would say her penchant for organization and preparation border on obsessive, but her crazy little quirks are what make her so gosh darn lovable (so she has informed me). Just kidding Franca, you know I love you.

Anyway this girl had a whole fun-filled day planned for her family (her dad and step mom had come to visit as well as a last minute addition of her sister, Carol). So we all headed down Upper Street to check out the restaurants and shops and see the sights that Islington has to offer. We checked out the antique market then headed on the bus to Borough Market. The place was crazy busy again but definitely worth seeing for a second time. I picked up this delicious mushroom ciabatta loaf which was amazing. I also finally got my hands on one of those chorizo sandwiches and sweet lord, it was heavenly. I waited in line for 15 minutes but it was so worth it.

Then we headed to a pub for lunch which was wonderful and then back to the flat for a mid afternoon nap. Franca and Carol headed back out for dinner with the fam and I got ready for my date.

So my date was actually with Dylan, the Brit we met in the pub a couple weeks ago. We had been texting for a while and decided to meet up. What was supposed to be a quiet night in turned into a drunken mess of an evening. We ended up heading to the bar across the street from my place for a couple pints. Then we hit up the King's Head (his hangout) to meet up with his boys. Had some drinks there and then met up with Carol and Franca and hit up a couple more pubs until we landed at Keyston Lodge where we found a table and had some more drinks. I was definitely super wasted but all in all I had a fun night. He is definitely a babe, but I can tell a little bit of a heartbreaker so we'll see what happens. We're supposed to have dinner on Thursday but I'm not sure I trust anyone who's that good looking, so we'll see what happens with that.

Sunday I woke up feeling a little worse for wear. Franca, Carol and I headed down to Angel for breakfast and then, well, we kept on drinking. We sat on a patio and drank sangria and then moved onto Essex Road where we went to the Queen's Head for more drinks. The Queen's Head is like a painfully trendy bar and restaurant. Everyone who hangs out there look like they get their hair cut by Edward Scissorhands and they all wear high-waisted, pleated khakis and unitards. Anyway it's a fun little spot, great music, great atmosphere and great decor. Plus it makes you feel really insecure about your hipster quotient which I assume is what those establishments go for, so I'll be back to try and look cool and fit in!

OK time out, I just got so distracted by this little child who is sitting right next to me as I type this. He's probably about 2 and was leaning over in his stroller trying to read my screen (even though I'm pretty sure he can't control his bowels yet, so I doubt he can read). Anyway he started waving at me and my heart just melted. Sometimes I hate all the kids in Starbucks but sometimes they are just adorable. especially when they're waiting in line with their minders so I only have to pay attention to them for like, 45 seconds.

OK and fade in. So after the Queens Head, we were all feeling a little drunk, so we went home ordered Chinese food and watched Striptease (terrible movie, but Demi Moore's body is so hot, it doesn't even make sense). I went to bed at 9:00 pm trying to recover from my afternoon drunk.

Monday Franca surprised us by taking the day off work! So we had a fun filled day taking Carol on a tour of London proper. We took the bus down to Oxford Circus, checked out Primark (like H & M but bigger and crazier). Then we had sushi for lunch and then headed down to do some shopping and surprise, surprise, have some drinks! Then the best part of the day - we got tickets to go see Wicked! We headed down to Victoria station where we picked up our tickets and then headed out for dinner.

At first we stopped by this Mexican place which was like embarrassingly decorated: sombreros all over the wall, plastic cactus table cloths, ponchos galore. One aspect of the restuarant which was not embarrassing were their 2 for 1 drink specials. We all got a woo woo (something with tequila) and a jungle juice (something that was mostly booze and very little juice). Anyway we ordered some nachos which were really gross. Which brings me to the issue of contention I have with British cuisine.

So here's the thing. In London, they use Doritos to make nachos (like, of the cool ranch variety). If such a low-brow title exists, I'd say I'm a nacho conoisseur and I have to say using Doritos to make nachos is just not done. You need some good old fashioned corn chips, I'd even be willing to accept those red or black tortilla chips but when you throw cool ranch into the mix, you're bastardizing this sacred dish. And like, don't just throw a whole load of cheese on there willy nilly. You need to LAYER. And the condiments should be in small bowls (or even better, nacho bowls!) for ample dipping. The thing they brought us was disgraceful: a couple handfuls of doritos, a PILE of cheese in the center, some sad looking guac and salsa and one jalapeno.

I could have cried.

Anyway we were so drunk that we ate the whole thing but it made me mad because I have not had a decent plate of nachos since I arrived here. Also, I can't get a decent basket of chicken wings. Or a good cup of filter coffee with my breakfast (always cappuccino). They also don't have clamato juice (so long, Caesars). So Franca and I were discussing how unhappy we are with the lack of proper North American cuisine in the UK and brought up the idea of opening our own Great White North restaurant: Canadian Bacon. We could serve Canadian beers (the best in the world) and wine and have like really good North American pub food. I mean, London is a big enough city that such a novelty restaurant probably wouldn't go stale. I've even been thinking about really tacky decor (a la Mexican restaurant) we could put it up. So that's the idea. If both of us hate our jobs and want to quit, we'll open up a Canadian-themed restaurant in Covent Garden. And you all better come!

So after the Mexican disaster, we head to a nearby Indian place (and let me tell you, one thing they can do in this city is a lip-smacking curry). We end up convincing the owners to let us bring in our own wine and we order their 'buffet' for £6 each. The buffet is actually them bringing a bunch of food to our table (umm) and I have to say, the whole ordeal was pretty hilarious. First of all, one of the waitresses brought some poppadoms and a bunch of different dips. We asked her what they were and she just smiled and pointed. Then we asked again and she smiled and pointed again and then brought over more of the same dips. It was awkward. Then Franca had to go the washroom and when she came back, she said there was a room upstairs and the door, labelled Office: Employees only, was open and someone was sleeping in a bed. Random. Anyway the food came and it was delicious but we all ate way too much.

And then a made a terrible mistake which I hope never to replicate again.

As I was enjoying the chicken tikka, I took a fork full of rice and noticed a stray green bean on the plate. 'That's weird they'd only give you one bean,' I thought to myself. Anyway as I began to chew, I noticed a weird consistency to the bean. Then I noticed the most intense heat fill my mouth.

Fuck.

It was in fact not a bean, but an insanely hot pepper. I spit it out onto my plate but it was too late: my mouth was on fire. It was actually the most unpleasant sensation I have ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Needless to say Carol and Franca were drunk and found the whole situation hilarious so they burst out laughing. I was trying to eat or drink anything to quell the inferno that was raging in my mouth. Eventually I got in under control but holy hell, it was awful. Needless to say, 'I thought it was weird they only gave us one bean' became our catchphrase of the evening.

So after Indian we stumbled over to Wicked. It was actually amazing and if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend doing so. Just great music, fantastic costumes, absolutely ridiculous voices and top notch acting. I've been wanting to see a show since I got to London because there really isn't a better place for theatre and after last night, I can definitely attest to that. It was slightly bittersweet for me however because my mom and I both shared a rather unhealthy obsession with all things Wizard of Oz. I've probably seen the movie like 50 times and we used to watch it all the time, especially during Christmas. She also has these collectors plates and I know this sounds really lame, but I actually think they're pretty rad. I also went as Dorthy for Halloween one year and I think it may have been my favorite costume of all time. Anyway I kept thinking while I was watching it how much she would have loved to see this show, especially in London. I'm sure she was there in spirit though.

Anyway it was an absolutely incredible weekend and I am loving everything London has to offer. I have an interview with MSN today so we'll see how that goes. And then I start Yahoo on Friday and I am beyond excited!

Alright friends hope life is treating you well in Canada (or wherever you're living while you read this). I'll write back soon with more tales of fun and hot peppers.

Cheers,

Patsy

S is for success!

'Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.' - Goethe

Hallelujah! I have good news to report. But first, more hilarious job interviews for companies I have zero interest in working for!

Yesterday morning I got up for my interview at Meade International. I still don't really understand what they do, and so I have dubbed their office building the crack factory. It's located in the middle of NOWHERE (Totteridge and Whetston Tube Station, for the Londoners out there). Anyway it took me about an hour to get there and I was not pleased about the possibility of such a shitty commute. I get to the office and then a woman greets me and takes me up to the fifth floor of this ten story building they own. The office is a mess: pamphlets, books, papers scattered everywhere. The place was beyond disorganized and the interview, even more so. She asks me questions about my experience and I tell her it's predominantly in the editorial field but I've expanded my job search and am looking for different opportunities (bullshit). She says 'Ah nothing like desperation to push you to find a job!' Uhh, no, well you see, I just, ahh.

Fuck.

Anyway we chat for about 10 more minutes. She says that they would need me for the customer service role but might also ask me to do some copywriting and basic web design. Umm OK? But they can't pay me what I want and I'd have to work for a lot less. Umm OK? During our conversation she also starts texting on her phone. And then, quite abruptly, she gets up and leaves. 'I'll be right back.' So I wait and soak up the beautiful view: what looks like a giant shanty town located directly behind the office.

What is this place?

She comes back and says. 'OK we want to hire you. You can move up quickly and make more money but you have to start at the bottom. You can start Monday.'

It was so bizarre to me that I had struggled so much in the past 54 days and in 10 minutes this woman wants to offer me a job.

BUT YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME. I have no customer service experience. I don't even know what the hell your company does. Is this a drug front? I mean, I'm not against a drug front, per se. I'd just like to be in the know, so I can develop the appropriate limp and nickname.

Anyway then I get a tour of the building and I am still utterly confused. It seems like there are 10,000 employees in this place and it's not clear what any of them do. 'People move up really quickly,' says this Australian girl showing me around. 'I mean I started in distribution and now I'm recruitment.'

Distribution! Recruitment! This is a drug front.

Anyway she seemed pretty happy about her job and the company so I forced that part of my brain that was telling me to run far, far away to shut up and tried to see if I could ever picture myself working here. More importantly, I tried asking myself what my other options were at this point in the game.

Stupid brain. Thinks it's so smart.

So I left feeling pretty bummed. I mean, yah I had a job (well, I hadn't accepted yet), but like it wasn't even close to what I wanted to do and I was skeptical of a company that would hire me so quickly (and not ask me anything about customer service for a role in customer service). So in my sad state, I took the train back into the city to meet with Warren from Yahoo UK about some freelance work.

The Yahoo UK offices are pretty awesome. They're located in Covent Garden, the heart of central London, where everything is happening. The offices are very web 2.0 - colourful, open concept, CRAZY security but definitely a super fun atmosphere otherwise.

I met with Warren and he told me what they are trying to accomplish. Essentially, they want me to do some research for the Lifestyle channel they are starting in July. Ten days of work at an excellent hourly rate. And afterward, the possibility of a full-time role in editorial.

I thought, you better not be shitting me, Warren. Don't play with a girl's heart like that. Do you know where I was today? A crack factory! A DRUG FRONT, WARREN. A goddamn drug front. I almost had to develop a limp.

Anyway I thought I was going to explode with happiness. Even working for them for just 10 days would be fantastic. He also told me that I was actually really really close to getting that job back in November. He said it was really hard for them to make a decision. And he also said that it was great timing that I was here now because now they could utilize me in a more suitable role.

Sweet ass.

So I start work next Friday. My first task is to buy a bunch of fashion and gossip magazines (tough life). Anyway I'm trying not to count all my chickens before they hatch, but I am much happier and feel less defeated than I did two short days ago.

Another funny story that I don't know if I shared with you. Last Friday I had a phone interview with Barclays Bank for a web editor position. I didn't do a ton of research because it was a phone interview and I assumed those are just conducted to weed out the retards. Anyway things were going swimmingly until the woman asked me why I wanted to work for Barclays. I said something about wanting to work for a respected, established company and that I thought working in a new industry like banking would be a great way to add variety to my portfolio (bullshit). Anyway I thought all had gone well but then there was silence.

'No but why do you want to work for Barclays specifically? I mean, what do you know about Barclays? Did you even do any research? I assumed you the recruiter would have told you to do that.'

'Uhh, umm, well you know I just moved here. So I mean, I don't really know that much about it. I know it's a large, successful bank in the UK. I mean I know it's a bank.'

Wow. Bravo, Vaness. It's a bank? 'Umm also I know the sky is blue and water is wet.' Needless to say the interview abruptly ended and she said she would give feedback to the recruiter. He called and left me a message to get in touch with him but I was too embarrassed to call him back.

'You said it was a BANK? What is wrong with you? Are you retarded?' Yes. The answer is yes.

So this morning I get a call from the recruiter. 'Barclays would like to call you in for an interview.'

Shut up! Anyway I turned it down because I will be working at Yahoo and also I hate Barclays. Anyway I thought that was kind of funny. I definitely thought that woman had put some voodoo curse on my whole family but she actually wanted to see me again? Crazy.

So after Yahoo, I went to Jenny and Ryan's for dinner which was delicious! Great convo, tons of wine (ciggies in the kitchen!) it was wonderful. And they live super close which makes it even better! As for the weekend, I am taking it easy tonight, tomorrow I am hanging with the Schultes, hitting up Borough Market and Upper Street and tomorrow night I have a date! I'll share more gossip about that on Monday (gotta keep you coming back, right?)

Anyway friends, have a fantastic weekend! I will write again soon,

Cheers,

Patsy

P is for perspective

'In the middle of every difficulty lies opportunity.' - Albert Einstein

Alright so yesterday was a pretty enlightening day. I woke up feeling super sorry for myself but I had to haul my ass out of bed for my interview. The office was south of the river so I knew it would take me some time to get there. I got off at Borough tube station and then walked according to my directions but then I got to that GODDAMN roundabout and got completely lost. The thing about roundabouts is that they usually have 7 million different roads attached to them. The other totally ridiculous thing about London is that they really don't post street signs anywhere, so you never have any idea where the hell you are going or what street you're on. Anyway my interview was at 3:30PM (or army time, as they do in the UK, 15:30). At 15:15 I realized I was definitely lost and asked a bus driver where Mandela Way was. She scratched her head which I immediately took as a bad sign. Then she said I'd have to catch a bus the other way and walk a couple of blocks and...

FUCK.

If I was going to be late for this interview, I might as well not show up. I mean really, that's the first test: showing up. If you can't be organized, manage your time and follow instructions, chances are they don't want your dumb ass working for their company. So obviously because I am a child, I just burst into tears (I got off the bus first). I felt like an idiot too because if someone had stopped and asked me why I was upset, my only logical response would be "because I'm LOST!" In reality, it was the compounded stress of the last month taking it's toll on me. But they wouldn't know that, and they would have slowly backed away and then fled the scene like no one's business.

So I just started running - in my dress shoes, with my laptop slouched over my shoulder. This city will not break me. I keep running and running, trying to hail a cab, to no avail. I run to a bus stop and get back on. He says Mandela Way is the next stop. I get off, run like Forrest Gump and then realize I have no street number. Just Mandela Way. WTF? Anyway I run and run and finally find The Stationary Office and the place is locked down like Fort Knox: barbed wire, a super high end security system, a guard. Oh did I not get the memo that THE STATIONARY OFFICE is now a terrorist target? Guess Al-Qaeda can't wait to get their hands on those risk analysis dissertations.

I burst into the office at 15:30 panting and sweating and generally looking like a complete mess. The woman at the reception says, 'well don't worry, you're not late!" I wanted to barf all over her desk but instead I took my security badge and was then led into the interview room.

The two woman who interviewed me seemed nice. The perks are standard, the pay is sub par. But I don't really care about any of that stuff, as long as the work is interesting - and it won't be. I would essentially be uploading content, writing and editing summary descriptions for government documents used by the public sector. For example, when you hear that crime rates have dropped 10% in the last 10 years, someone spent months creating that report. Then they add a painfully boring cover, have it bound and sell it at The Stationary Office for an inordinate price. So yah, shoot me. Anyway during the interview, the older woman was so excited about my resume. 'Oh Yahoo sounds like so much fun.' It was. 'Oh that sounds rather lovely.' It was fucking super lovely. She said it in such a way that she was unaware interesting jobs existed. I asked her what my biggest challenge would be working here. 'Oh, that you'll get bored.'

Well, at least she's honest.

Then yesterday, I did something I've never done in an interview before. I asked her why she picked my resume. Why she thought I would be good for the job. Little table turner there. Maybe everyone does this and I'm just slow but I have to say I did it more out of spite than curiosity. Anyway she said well you have a strong technical and writing background which is hard to find. Then she dropped this bomb on me. They posted their job on one free site. They received 200 applications. They are interviewing fewer than 10 people.

And I guess that's sort of when my perspective changed. I mean I'm not guaranteed this job, but there are people out there who aren't even getting called for interviews. I've had 21. Twelve different companies wanted to meet with me, some wanted to meet with me more than once. I still don't have a job but at least I know there are companies that see some initial worth, even if it doesn't result in a job.

I also watched this BBC documentary last night when I came home (drunk and devouring pizza. Don't be surprised if I weight 200 lbs when I come back from London) called Jobless. It was about how royally fucked Brits have been due to the terrible economy and shitty job market in the UK. There are families with mortgages and car payments and kids to feed and both parents are unemployed. People are getting sacked from their jobs after 20 years of dedicated service with no notice and no redundancy packages. I mean, I'm complaining about being unemployed, but in the grand scheme of things, I only have to worry about myself. Imagine the stress of having two kids, a car a house and a spouse that was also unemployed. Anyway, made me feel much more humble about my own circumstances. It's important, for everyone, to put their shit into perspective sometimes. Chances are whatever giant problems are plaguing you at this very moment are probably not really that big of deal (*descends off her soapbox*).

Anyway when this woman told me they were interviewing less than 10 people I got sort of jealous. The more I interview, the more and more I see that job hunting is JUST like dating and work is so much like a relationship:

You dress up and go to meet your potential employer. Sometimes you realize right away you really like them and sometimes you know you absolutely do not like them. Sometimes you despise them but they really like you. Sometimes you interview for jobs you're not sure about, maybe you could overlook some of the glaring problems because deep down, there is some merit in the work. You wait around for them to call you back. Sometimes they never call. Sometimes you think things are going really well but then they tell you they've met someone else that they click with better. Sometimes they're dating 10 people at a time trying to find the right person.

Then when you get the job, you realize right away you hate it and you've met a more attractive, appealing job that is a better match and so you leave. Sometimes you say in the same job for years and years because it's comfortable and you're too scared to try something new. You ruminate over the good and the bad but you inevitably stick with it because it's what you know. Sound familiar?

So yesterday when she said they were interviewing fewer than 10 people, I got a little green with envy. Well, have they been published? Do they know HTML? We're they ever the editorial voice of a cartoon pig? What have THEY got that I don't have? Whatever, I don't care, you WHORE.

Alright got that out of my system.

After my interview, I go to meet Andy for drinks. Andy is the head of editorial for Yahoo in the UK. He interviewed me months ago for an editorial job in the London office via video conference. He very kindly financed my drinking habit for the evening, but made fun of me for drinking Fosters. Anyway it was great to finally meet him in person and have a chat. I know if I ever want to get back into Yahoo I'm going to have to network like a champ. So we talked shop about Yahoo for a bit, how things are going there, how the girl is doing who got the job I interviewed for (she's doing fine. Bitch.) and any possible openings in the office. He said they are starting a Lifestyle channel but it keeps being pushed back. Right now, the date to start is July, but that could be pushed back again. Also he doesn't know if they'll be hiring a new person for that role, they might just shift some people around to cover the updating.

However, he did say that had some contract work for me to do, so that's good news! I am going in tomorrow to see what's up. Hopefully I'll get my foot in the door and they will all fall in love me (how could they not? they're only human). Anyway some more Yahoos came to the pub for drinks and I truly enjoyed meeting the motley crew. I talked to one dude named Russell who was really cool: an engineer with some crazy blonde mohawk looking hairdo. We chatted about everything form boobs to car crashes. Talked to one Scottish dude who apologized about my Dad being Welsh (asked if I ever found any sheep in the house) and another dude who said he might be able to help me out with some work, which was nice. It was funny because I had forgot what interesting characters the company attracts. I won't lie, it was a little bittersweet and made me nostalgic for my days at the Queens Quay office. But maybe, fingers crossed, I can start a new Yahoo life at Cambridge Circus.

I will let you know how my meeting goes tomorrow. I have an interview at noon tomorrow as well for a customer service position with an eyewear company. I have no idea why, mainly because I can't rely on the kindness of strangers to finance my drinking habit forever. Tonight I am going to dinner with Franca and her parents at the flat they are staying at in Knightsbridge (the K stands for Klassy!) So I will regale you with more tales of adventure tomorrow.

Cheers,

Patsy

F is for failure

So I think I've decided to give up the job hunt and write some kind of book about job hunting (kind of like in high school when you had to write speeches and there was always some kid who wrote his about writing speeches. So original!)

Anyway, I think I have enough material for at least the first chapter or two.

As of today, I have:

- Been in the UK for 53 days.
- Sent out 100+ CVs
- Filled out 30+ applications.
- Interviewed for 11 different jobs.
- Attended over 20 interviews (including recruiters, headhunters, second interviews, etc).
- Been rejected from every job I have applied for: BBC, MSN, Amazon, UNICEF, Haymarket, IPC and a slew of other lesser known employers.
- Worn the same outfit to (practically) every interview.
- Spent £20 printing my portfolio, reference letters, resumes, references
- Tubed all over this fucking city, from Slough to London Bridge to West London to Knightsbridge to Soho in hopes of getting hired.

And today, on my 53rd day, I am back pretty much exactly where I started roughly two months ago. No job, no prospects. What's worse is I am a little worse for wear in the confidence department so any upcoming interviews I do have I probably won't be in top form for.

Anyway, being sorry for yourself is self indulgent and boring, so I will not be doing that (or at least, I won't be writing about it). So it's onward and upward. I will not let this city break my spirit. I will conquer London like the greatest conquerer who ever conquered anything (who says my ego is bruised?) And no prospects isn't exactly true, I have an interview today with TSO, a government office doing web editing. I'm just not even going to say more than that because I think all this professional defeat has brought about a serious bout of superstition which I cannot shake.

Anyway now that my sob story is over, I'll tell you about my weekend. Franca was away at a wedding so I had to amuse myself. Saturday I went to a movie with Dan and saw Alice in Wonderland. I really wasn't blown away and actually I found it pretty boring. Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter were great but the story was just sort of blah. And Anne Hathaway needs to sit down cause she was super annoying. Anyway after that, I met up with Kate the Canadian for drinks and dinner. We went to the Slug and Lettuce and then went out for dinner to an great little Mediterranean place off Upper Street. The restaurant was a renovated house which was ram packed, adorably decorated and super cheap: a bottle of wine, two mains an appetizer and a dessert was £30! Amazing, After that we went up the street for a couple of drinks but we were clearly not as wasted as the rest of the crowd at Albert and Pearl so we called it a night.

Sunday I hit up the farmer's market just down the road from my place and it was adorable - fresh cut flowers, organic poultry, beef, game and fish, fresh fruit and veggies, homemade desserts and bread. I'm a little low on the cash flow so I didn't buy anything but it was fun to know it's there. Then I headed up to the vintage market in Angel to browse around and then headed up to Chapel market to browse around some more.

In order to save ££ and keep myself entertained, I started downloading TV shows. I've been watching The Wire which is amazing (I know I'm like 10 years behind. Leave me alone.) and I need the second season in a bad way. I also started watching The Shield which isn't as good - and is it me, or can anyone else just not take Lou Diamond Phillips seriously? Anyway I've also been reading like a maniac trying to escape the perpetual joblessness that is my life. Just finished J.M Coetzee Slow Man which won the Man Booker Prize in 2003. It was OK but I want something that is going to change my life. If you have any good recommendations, let me know! I am now a member of the Islington Library so I'm officially a huge giant nerdy loser in another country!

Anyway, hopefully something works out for me this week. If not, I might seriously be tying those Barista apron strings before too long. Sigh.

Hope you're all doing well and enjoying the balmy weather in Canada. Can't say I don't feel a little homesick at the moment but that was bound to happen eventually.

Cheers,

Patsy

99% Satisfaction Guaranteed

So I'm not even joking, this is an actual conversation I just had with a courier service at Heathrow.

Me: So I'm calling about my bags, I'd like to have them couriered to me tomorrow.
Douche: OK, well, we can do that for you.
Me: OK, how much will it cost?
Douche: £36.
Me: OK, and what's the window time for the delivery?
Douche: Umm, we don't actually do that.
Me: So I'm supposed to wait at my house all day then?
Douche: Yes, well that's the policy.
Me: (Trying to refrain from going on an expletive-laced rampage). Umm, OK well can they call me when they're close by?
Douche: We can't guarantee they'll do that.
Me: OK so what are we looking at, 9-5 kind of thing?
Douche: Yes.
Me: So I will have my bags by 5 PM tomorrow.
Douche: Well we can't guarantee that, something might come up that would prevent us from delivering.
Me: So what you're saying is I have to wait at my house all day tomorrow and as a result I may or may not receive my bags.
Douche: Yes, it's very unlikely that they won't be delivered but it is a possibility. Or we could do a morning delivery but it will cost more.
Me: How much?
Douche: An extra £10, plus VAT (their weird sounding tax)
Me: How much in total?
Douche: £56.
Me: OK but you can guarantee I will get my bags before 12 pm?
Douche: Well, no we can't guarantee anything. It's about 99%. There's very little chance that they won't deliver it by noon.
Me: So what exactly am I paying for? For a half hearted promise you'll try and be there by noon?
Douche: Well, in the event that they can't deliver it in time, we can call you.
Me: I thought you coudn't call me, or you didn't do that. Or do I get VIP 'telephone call' treatment because I paid an extra £10.
Douche: It's very unlikely it won't arrive but if it doesn't we will call you and let you know.
Me: (Repeatedly slamming my head against the dirty Starbucks table). Fuck it. Whatever this is like a fucking episode of Fawlty Towers. You have fucked up my normally perfect blood pressure. I don't care just fucking get my stuff here tomorrow. Your policies are bullshit.

Side note, just had my second interview for the travel website. I hope I get it! I will write you as soon as I know.

Cheers,

Patsy

P.S. For a fun little game, type the ex patsy into Google!

Excess baggage

Well friends, not too much to report. Things have been pretty slow on this end. I had my second interview for foxybingo.com which I think went well. It's down to me and two other candidates, so we'll see what happens with that. I also have a second interview for that travel website tomorrow which I am super pumped about. I have a phone interview with Barclays bank tomorrow which I am not excited about. Anyway I have a feeling this will be the week something happens (fingers crossed). If not I might have to start working at Starbucks. And no one wants that.

I've been pretty frustrated these past couple of days because my dad shipped the rest of my bags over here and trying to get them delivered to my flat is becoming absurdly complicated. First of all, I've spent about £15 being put on hold by the British Airways Cargo service customer support line (you know how I feel about customer support). My Dad has been calling the baggage people we've dealt with in Toronto and today I've had to call a separate delivery service to try and get my stuff. I know this blog is ridiculously full of rants but absolutely NOTHING has gone smoothly since I've moved here and I've come to realize that's just how things work in Britian.

Nothing is done quickly, intuitively or efficiently. If there is a more complicated, less expeditious way to do something, the Brits have it covered. It took me a month to get a bank card, a month (and two attempts) to secure a flat, a total of one month to get internet (fingers crossed) and lord knows if I'll ever get these goddamn bags. If this is some kind of Job-type test from God, then I concede, you've beat me. Bring on the terrible afflictions!

Other than that, my days have been pretty damn boring. Yesterday I watched the wedding singer and went to the Dollar Store. It was a pretty big day for me. Hopefully by Monday I'll be getting up and joining the rest of the chumps on the tube every morning for a decent day's work (more likely, an indecent day's work). Not too sure what I'm up to this weekend as Franca is at a wedding all weekend so I'll have to amuse myself. I might hit up Spitafield Market in Brick Lane and then dinner and drinks on Saturday night with a fellow Canuck and perhaps brunch Sunday. I think I need to detox but we all know that will never ever happen.

Alright well sorry this blog post is so boring. Maybe when I get a job I'll have more interesting things to write about!

Cheers,

Patsy

What a weekend!

First of all, I just want to say even though I was like 8,0000 km from where all the Olympic action was taking place last night, I don't think I've ever felt closer to Canada (and more proud to be Canadian) in my life. What a absolutely stellar win. What an absolutely amazing accomplishment to win more gold medals than other country in the history of the games. But the good news is, I'll be in London for the 2012 summer games which I am sure will be pretty fucking awesome as well.

So back to me (because really, that's why you're here). I had a pretty crazy weekend. Friday I was bummed out because I didn't get the BBC (thanks for that automated email too, real classy). Anyway I'm actually pretty thrilled I even got an interview and I think I knew deep down I probably wouldn't get it. I also didn't get that admin job because apparently they thought I would get bored. And they were right. So back to square one (sort of) but I am persevering (what's that saying, it's like insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome?) Anyway I drown my sorrows on Friday with lots of booze and that seemed to help. Franca and I headed to a birthday party in Shoreditch which was super fun. Then we headed to meet up with some friends in Camden Town which was also a big party (too many JagerBombs: scenes missing).

Saturday we managed to face the world despite massive hangovers and head to Borough Market. I can absolutely see why everyone says it's such a great place - because it is. There was SO MUCH great food: curry, Jamaican patties, hamburgers, ostrich burgers, kangaroo burgers, sausages, noodles, vegan burgers, grilled cheese sandwiches, fish and chips, chorizo baguette (which had a huge line and which I wish I had gotten instead of sausage roll) and the list goes on. And the best part is the samples. You could literally go though and fill up entirely on free bite sized morsels of heaven. Plus you can drink beers or cider or mulled wine in the market and get a sweet buzz going while you browse. It was so busy and so bustling but it was worth going and is definitely a place you should check out if you find yourself in London.

Franca and I started boozing with our mulled wine at 1:30 pm and kept the party going for the rest of the day. We had a pint outside and then headed to the Steam Passage Pub in Angel to watch the England vs. Ireland rugby game. Four pints later we stumbled to another pub across the street for (you guessed it) more beers. Then we went to a nice Greek place for dinner which was scrumptious. Then we met up with our Canadian friend and pub hopped all over Angel which was great. We hit up about 7 pubs of varying atmospheres. Some were downright chaotic (The Bull, Albert and Pearl, The Embassy, The King's Head) some were chill (The New Rose, Slug and Lettuce) but all we're a great time (from what I remember) and discovering their charm made me glad I'm living in this area.

Sunday morning was less fun. I had to do a writing assignment for a second interview I had this morning (hangover work reminds me of college. In a bad way). Then last night Franca and I ordered delicious and cheap Chinese food and watched Billy Elliot (fucking love that movie. I had this stupid grin plastered on my face the whole time. I mean seriously, how goddamn adorable is Billy? It doesn't even make sense). Then we watched the gold medal game and we went to bed happy to be Canadian.

Today I had an interview for a travel website that would actually be pretty cool. The pay isn't great but the perks (traveling to write articles, getting cheap deals on flights and hotels) would be sweet. They said I'd hear from them by the end of the week so hopefully this Friday I'll be celebratory drunk instead of numbing the pain of unemployment drunk.

Not too much on the roster this week but I'm sure I'll find some way to fill my time (that doesn't involve Starbucks). Hope you're all still basking in your golden victory from last night!

Cheers,

Patsy