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

Same same but different

I've been thinking a lot lately about this move I've made. In some ways, it's different and new and surprising. In other ways it's completely the same as life in Toronto.

I get up, I brush my teeth, I eat my bowl of Wheetabix, I make my bed, I order a latte at Starbucks (goddamn Starbucks), I take public transit, I get drunk, I eat terrible food (both when I'm drunk and when I'm hungover). I don't have a job - but being unemployed is practically like a full time job so I do that. I'm not sure if I was really expecting everything in my life to be completely different when I came here. I guess it's just once the novelty wears off of quitting your job and booking a one way ticket to another country, you realize things are more or less the same everywhere.

However, I've only been here just over a month so I probably haven't properly absorbed all the Britishness yet. I mean there are some things that are unique to the U.K. No one dries their clothes in a dryer, everyone is retarded for football, they say toilet and loo instead of bathroom (and I feel like a complete tool asking where either of these things are when I'm at a restaurant [mainly Starbucks]). My house is like the Zoolander School for Ants. Tea is like air to them and they say things like choccie biscuits and mobile and daft.

When I was out with Martin, he ordered a baked potato with tuna and mayo and I almost barfed. I was horrified to discover that this is actually a common food staple over here.

Everything here is smaller too: cars, fridges, roads. Also, I am not embarrassed to say that I am terrified of crossing the street here because everyone in this city drives like a maniac. London is like Grand Theft Auto: drivers are purposefully attempting to run you over in their little Pinto cars at any given time. Also pedestrians have no right of way so you better watch the hell out when you're taking that leisurely stroll down the cobblestone.

The other thing is that despite its tiny size, this city is SOO packed all the time. I had to wait for two tubes this morning before I could actually get in one. And that's a good commute. People literally flood out of tube stations for their daily pilgrimage to those high rise office complexes. It's a battle getting around the city and if you find yourself trying to go anywhere during rush hour, well you're shit out of luck.

There are things I do love about this city though. Due to it's population, the place is always buzzing. There are a million things to do here all the time: markets, heatre, live music, shopping. And this city is so old and there is so much history - just being here makes me feel like I'm part of something ancient and ethereal.

It's been hard for me to see the city for what is really is lately because I've been stuck in interview hell. I counted them out and I've had 13 interviews since I've been here. Having to tell potential employers over and over again why you're so awesome and qualified and why you just love foxybingo or ancestral research or merchandizing gardening equipment is so mentally and emotionally exhausting. Explaining your strengths and bs-ing your way through the weakness question just to have them turn you down is a big old bitch slap to the ego.

I had an interview today for a receptionist job that I really don't want. The interviewer said she was really impressed with my resume but thought this job would be a step back for me. I wanted to get up and kiss this little Asian women on the head and tell her I completely agree and just run, arms flailing, out of their office. Instead lies just started spewing out of my mouth: well I want to try new things, there's a lot of overlap between editorial and admin work, I'm young and can go back to writing later in my life, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. I was surprised how convincing I sounded too. They seemed to like the fact that I was 'creative' while the rest of them were 'financial' (if that's the opposite of creative). The thing is, if they offer me this job, I might just have to take it.

And then kill myself.

I just can't picture myself ordering stationary and getting CEOs coffee. It's not my bag, baby. But maybe at this point in the game, what my bag is is actually quite irrelevant.

Alright I have my National Insurance Number interview today. It's like your SIN but you have to apply for it and then be interviewed. This country is so strange.

Will write soon with new updates.

Cheers,

Patsy xoxo

Slow as f***

I should preface this entry with a warning about what a shitty/frustrated mood I'm in and that this is going to be an old person rant about how irritated I get by terrible customer service and corporate inefficiencies (I really am becoming my father).

So last week I called the cable/phone/internet company to get our home all wired up. I gave them all our details and my payment info, etc. I was told the guy would be there the following Tuesday for the set up. Afterward, I get like four text messages saying that they will only be installing my cable and I'll have to call after it's all set up for my phone and internet to get hooked up.

So after giving me a SEVEN hour window for the install today (I know I don't have a job, that's beside the point) the guy shows up with our fancy new cable box. So we spend our 188 quid on the set up and our cable is good to go (we also got a sweet 32'' flat screen off gumtree [their version of Craigslist]). Anyway so then I call Sky and they say it will take up to 15 days to activate our phone line and then they list THREE days they MIGHT come to install it. So I'm just supposed to sit around my house like a douchebag waiting for you to come over and what, show me how to plug in my phone? Then they tell me it will take up to an additional 15 days to hook up our broadband. Honestly, if I have go to Starbucks to use the internet for another month, I am going go to ballistic on some Baristas.

At first I thought this chick was pulling my leg, but then I forgot that no one in customer service has a sense of humour or any social skills whatsoever. I swear to god, if you want to get a job in customer support, the only question they ask you is whether you're a sociopath who enjoys being completely useless, wasting people's time and generally making everyone around you completely miserable. The only acceptable response is to punch the interviewee directly in the face, after which time you are given your ID badge and escorted to your phone to begin ruining innocent people's lives.

And I'm sorry, did this Kingdom not colonize most of the modern world? Did it not have a vast, expansive empire and control the majority of the planet's population? And it's going to take them more than two weeks to hook up my phone? What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

/rant

I spent the entire day waiting for the Sky dude and cleaning our home from top to bottom. We're going to IKEA on Thursday to get some shelving and kitchen stuff. Tomorrow I have an interview with a website called partygaming.com which owns partypoker.com and some other gaming websites. Not sure exactly what I'd be doing but at this point I don't even care. I'm just going to go in there and tell them how much I love games and parties and that will be that. I had my interview at the BBC yesterday but I tell you more about that when I hear back from them.

Other than that, not much else is new. Going to a birthday party this weekend and then hopefully to Borough Market on Saturday which is supposed to be amazing (every single person I know here has told us how we HAVE to go). I will make sure to take more pictures and write about exciting adventures (and stop ranting about bad customer service).

To end this blog post, I will tell you about the two funniest things that I saw today:

1) A three year old (probably on his way to Starbucks, little bastard) was walking down the street in the pouring rain holding his mom's hand. His corduroy pants were around his ankles, revealing his large, soiled diaper. I wanted to stop the woman and tell her her son was exposing himself to the world, but then I didn't because I thought it would be funny. And it was. Stupid kids.

2) In Starbucks, I watched a a grown man put snow pants on over his dress pants without even a hint of embarrassment.

Also someone asked me to sign for a delivery for my neighbour today. It was Rock Band which would be awesome on our new TV. I want to steal it but I had to sign my name. I should have made a stupid name that I could easily deny. 'Um no, my name is not Sapphire. Yes, that is MY brand new, unopened Rock Band. Yes it is a coincidence we both ordered it at the same time. Now get off my lawn.'

Maybe I'll force my neighbour to let me come over and play it with them. That's what people like right? Neighbours who constantly come over unannounced?

Alrighty I should go. I'll write back soon!

Cheers,

Patsy