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!