still not done

So this is perfection. Quiet Stourbridge, car, cheese platter, cable television, warm house, boyfiend's jumper, and me sitting alone listening to Soulwax after being chastised by Chris "don't talk to me about shitting new British music", boyfriend.

And I can't believe I have to be back at work on Thursday. Also, completely in love with Paul Rudd. Jewish immigrant from England, he is the best of both worlds! My holiday has been supremely productive.

grand piano

It's been a gleeful time in Birmingham leading up to Christmas today. The cheese is about to be eaten by myself and 3 Bransons, and it's a plentiful platter. The one hiccup of these festivities is that I'm feeling really coldish today so I've only had half a glass of wine, when technically I should be on my second bottle by now (love the English!). But this little treat is what we got up to last night around Pez's. If you listen closely you can hear me, however I don't recommend it. Hearing yourself sing on play back is always discouraging, especially when trying to harmonise the high parts.

maternal and emotional

We went Christmas shopping tonight after work and this is a bit of a story but I've had these strange cravings to watch Disney films because of this show we watched weeks ago listing off the 100 best family films. Anyway, I bought Dumbo today and I did not expect this to happen. As soon as the movie started with the storks flying and Mrs. Jumbo looking into the air wondering where her baby is, I started absolutely balling. And then Dumbo arrives and I'm ok again. Then those mean elephants start making fun of his ears and that's it. I'm crying on my sofa and I don't stop until "Pink elephants on parade" which by the way, would never happen in a modern child's film (I don't understand drug induced sequences, even still).

When did I become way too emotional? Chris kept looking at me and he didn't know what to do. I kept saying "I think something must have happened to me when I was a child and watched this, there must be some Freudian reason why I can't control this crying". I actually have a headache from crying so much this evening.

23 and a day

After I woke up properly, I had a great birthday. Suzy came over for afternoon tea and pastries, we all went to the flower market then later that afternoon Chris and I went to Brick lane, had a Nando's then went to 5 St. Philips for burnt cherries and wine.

But back to Saturday night, and Les Trois Garcons. It was quite magical and we both ate so much, and my suave boyfriend had pre-ordered champagne for us upon our arrival to the table. I had foie gras, then salmon, then chocolate opera (I don't know what means but it was very rich). The salmon did actually melt in my mouth and was supremely stupendous. Chris ate so much that night that at around 3am, apparently he threw up (what exactly I won't say). But a sincerely amazing meal.

And for now, I'm going to enjoy my day off.

23

And I just severely over-slept and feel funny. I'm off to Brick lane and Columbia flower market to buy records and orchids.

22

Birthday weekend. Last night was disorganised fun with boyfriend. Quick drinks after work, then fish and chips, debating what to do, then settling on our local pub, and 12.5% Hoegarden and red wine. And tonight is meal night, i.e. reason for living on a plate and through decor. We're going back to Les Trois Garcons, the restaurant we went to last year for my 22nd birthday which is stunning. And we're doing cocktail first in their attached cocktail lounge. And this is all east London so we don't have to travel far, not that it's going to stop us from taking a taxi.

It's freezing cold here though. But I still managed to make it to the market to buy gourmet cheese and sausage for a snack because our reservations are for 9:45pm tonight, with cocktails starting at 9pm. Now my day consists of reading the paper, eating cupcakes, snuggling on the sofa, and listening to football, the latter of course is not by choice. Maybe I'll put a Hitchcock on. And only 3 more days of work left until Christmas holiday. We're back in Birmingham on the 21st I think, then perhaps off to Belgium on 26th if someone doesn't buckle down and commit to new years plans.

drinking problems

http://www.thechoiceisyours.com/en-gb/home.htm

I keep losing at the part where I have to carry the drinks. And I can actually read quite clearly when I'm pissed.

And according to alcoholawareness.co.uk, I have a drinking problem.

Tropical

Today is my day. Aside from the rain and me leaving my umbrella at work today, it's been a decent morning. Chris left early for Oxford and won't be back until around 2am and instead of being bored because I'm not being constantly entertained by him, I'm going to spend this time doing things I need to get done as well as enjoying time alone. We've now been living together alone for three months and whilst it's absolutely great, I've noticed we've become a bit nervy with each other. But I think that it's related to other incidents with me working all day and him sitting around and becoming slightly depressed.

I feel really bad about not being in better contact with friends from home right now. I'll fully admit that I've been quite caught up in myself and have borderlined on super obnoxious to supremely full of shit (in the nicest way possible). So today is good day to find a balance between everything. Not that I'm feeling lost because now really more than ever I feel like I'm at home however it makes me disconnect with Canada home and everything/everyone there. It's tricky now because I can't remember what it was like when I first moved here and lived here jobless for 8 month and everything I did accomplish personally has been a bit erased.

Nonetheless, moving forward. On Wednesday, I found this Mickey Mouse dvd that is the same vhs that a friend gave to me for my 6th birthday. So weird the things you remember.

square

I just logged on to facebook, saw I had 1 inbox, read the subject: Tova's Advice. First line of the message "I love a bi sexual man". I'm sure the person who sent that message might be a bit perturbed with me referring to it, but I suppose it's all part of this charmed life and the fact I have answers (or advice) for all. Sincerely needed that push to return to normal so huge thanks to the sender, so glad you thought of me.

Plus I work in Soho now so I see it all.

And speaking of, it's quite fantastic aside from the fact that I think Soho is like the Bermuda triangle. You always know landmarks and how to get there from the outside, but navigating from within it is nuts. I google mapped something about three streets away because I had no idea how to get there from within. I've been a bit manic so I haven't explored very much, but tomorrow I'm going to be a bit adventurous for lunch, perhaps do a wander and see a life beyond Pret, Eat or Vital.

I had a bit of a shocker on the weekend but I think I'm back to normal as a person. I've felt like there hasn't been a massive differentiation from my work self vs normal self vs weird self attempting to be outgoing but failing slightly. And to make things even better, Chris booked my birthday dinner and pre dinner drinks at the restaurant we went to last year, Les Trois Garcons which is this amazing french restaurant with the most eclectic, elaborate and quirky interiors located near Brick Lane. We went last year and it was an extraordinary experience and I'm really excited for my birthday now.

get the wrong idea and go

I've become a bit of a pit. An exaggerated version (now constantly) of my former self. January I completely detoxing myself, both alcoholically, verbally and physically. My jeans don't aren't really fitting me right now. This isn't really self criticism but you know when you say something or act a certain way and you float out of yourself and replay what you just said, or the way you acted again in your mind and think what a ****.

Which brings me to detoxing verbally. I blame PR and England for my ease and casual dropping of c--t. It's still funny whenever I say it at work because it comes unexpected but still, I haven't ever been comfortable saying it, and now I do about 10 times a day. I guess the one plus to this is that I'm still self aware, and brutally self conscience of

On a much happier note, Sugababes, Push the Button is on television right now. My sexy ass has got him in a new dimension. I like the bit when the girls are dancing in the lift. And lately, Chris and I sit around watching adverts and laughing and laughing. When did television become so funny?

a new low

I'm waiting for my towel rack to heat up (lies) so I've lurked out facebook whilst watching Spice Girls top 40 hits, solo and group. But we're only on 20 and it's their awful solo songs that I've never heard and I only want to watch Stop which will probably be number 1 and I'll be gone by then (in theory). Sundays are spent solo as Chris goes to band practice and makes me think that we really do have a co-dependent relationship for entertainment solely.

Last night a few of us went down to the Dove which boasts and excellent variety of Belgium beers and good times, I guess. And Friday I wen to Jonas' flat warming party which is amazing because we had to cross the road to get there. It sort of parlays into my Friday day taxi ride with a house DJ cum driver, day time job to pay for xmas presents and December bills. But we had a great chat about music and the digital age but this was haunted in my mind so when we went to Jonas I went through Chris' friend's ipod until 4am, and probably outstayed my welcome by an hour being a bit drunk and stupidly cerebral (sorry Jonas and Pippa). Embarassing.

Whoah, I recognise one of these solo spice songs. Miss Elliot featuring Mel B. Still a bit shit. I hope my towel is warm now.

scared, cold and wet

I'm watching the Exorcist and remembering why and how I was traumatised as a 12 year old the first time I watched it. Chris has never seen it and took a toilet break. It's tipping down with rain, our living room is freezing and I'm actually afraid all over again. Seriously, why did I watch this movie alone when I was so young? Why am I sitting alone now?

Electric

It's' such a nasty day out. It's freezing, raining and pretty dreary. And I find that living by the canal makes the breeze and/or gale forced winds far colder. I regret having to buy milk and dishwasher powder this morning.

And Chris is sick, yet again. Why are two blatant hypochondriacs with weakened immune systems living together? He's tucked into a bath and is now enjoying beans on toast and the paper. I'm over an illness that stemmed three weeks with no days off because I was too busy. I've been doing mass PR product placement over the past month for Christmas but it has come to a halt and things have toned down.

And we heard our Christmas holiday time which is fantastic as I have a long stretch of time to go to Prague for a long weekend, Birmingham for Christmas then back to London for New Year's. No idea what I'm doing, or really what anyone is doing for New Year's. I don't even like to plan this far in advance but thanks to Facebook, people are already making plans.

And lastly, personally, I went to Tate Modern with Chris on Friday to stimulate my brain. Since receiving this television, we haven't done much aside from me coming home, Chris cooking me amazing dinners then watching tv. So dreadful I know, but I felt like my brain was turning a bit to putty. However you know days when you look back at night and think, wow, I was really funny today? That was mine on Friday. The sayings of a severely insecure individual I'm sure. But we had people round the flat later that Friday then we all went out to our local pub which is cosy and sells an exceptional variety of Belgium beer. And yesterday I spent horizontal watching Property Developer that resumes right now so I have to go.

I didn't have internet

We've moved. We're settled and we finally have BT line and therefore have internet.

I am the epitome of domestic bliss. Aside from the fact that I just dropped my bathmat into the canal and it's floating away. Lots of pictures of my new home and new neighbourhood coming soon.

so this morning

Second night in a row that I've had a shit sleep, but even calling it a sleep is an overstatement. I've been awake since around 5:30am and finally got out of bed at 6:45am because I knew that if I fell asleep, I would end up feeling worse. It's this house (old house). Especially now that everything has been boxed up and shifted around, there is so much dust in the air and I'm congested and wheezy all over again. And I can definitely feel myself getting sick because I'm not sleeping properly, but this morning (which it still is, it's now 7:17am here) I woke up that early mainly due to stress, but couldn't fall back asleep because of this congestion. I'm repeating myself but I'm slightly delirious. Last night I kept dropping asleep but housemate Tet who is moving into mine and Chris' room, was building stuff and knocking around so I would wake up at the slightest tick. So in the past two nights, I've had many 9 hours sleep, which is usually my going rate per night.

And because of this stress, not only do I feel it physically, but mentally. However, a massive relief was actually seeing the flat last night. And signing the contract, even if upon signing the contract, we find out that our flat is actually, after all, after many trips to bloody Ikea, after all that time spent etc. furnished. It is just a comedy of errors with this flat but in fact it's easier, even if the furniture is rather bachelor pad and way too big for the size of the flat. We'll make it work. And we have a great mattress which means that I may actually sleep well. Chris has to complete the annoying task today of denying Ikea delivery (we've spoken with customer service and this sort of thing happens frequently). One rather awful thing about today is that we're having a press launch tonight which means I have to work until around 9pm. So I'm working 12 hours, sleeping 4 1/2 whilst in the process of moving. I'm reaching exhausted, or I am just getting sick...yet again...

so today

We spent over 4 hours in ikea. Everything is being delivered on Tuesday so we won't officially move in until then, at least tomorrow we get the keys. And my clothes (amazingly) are all packed. And we've been struggling with this stupid wing chair, schlepping it down the stairs of a narrow london townhouse, and when it came down to it (not fucking pun intended) they sawed the legs off. That's when I lost interest and went on facebook.

Fuck em. Right now I'm saying very lax to Chris regarding a suitcase full of random clothes, "it will close". I can't wait until Wednesday, and/or happy hour. Happy hour being tomorrow, unpacking my clothes with a method of organisation. I'm shallow but don't give a darn right now. But I am having a moderately lovely time watching Chris being all manly etc. You know, moving stuff, sweating. Very rarely do I see him in a masculine capacity. He usually just moans about things.

after much sneezing

I think it's the dust in this room, and us shuffling everything around because I'm having that allergic reaction again. And this time, I had a bottle of wine to myself last night so I'm already feeling a bit wheezy. Now it's just arrogance really, I only ate soup last night and polished a bottle to myself, and to be honest, I feel fine. In fact, we're on our way to Ikea right now.

Good news is that we're moving in tomorrow! Except the text message is quite vague, so hopefully move in tomorrow?

hold

I'm beyond frustrated at our moving situation. The plan was, from 4 weeks ago, that Chris and I would move in today to our new flat. Here's the bloody story:

So we found our flat the friday before we left for Canada. We filled out the papers, sent them off, everything was fine, move in date was 29 September. That was four weeks ago now. We've been back in the UK for two weeks and only on this Tuesday do we hear from our referencing people that I need a guarantor because I'm only a lodger at the house, not on the tenancy agreement. Now because we only hear on Tuesday, we have to put a rush order on the money, i.e. first month's rent and 6 weeks deposit. Had this bloody referencing company got back to us about two weeks, or even last week (they've only had four weeks to process this) everything would have been fine. So Chris looks up how to do this transfer and it says that he has to post something to Swindon in order for this to be transferred immediately. So he posts the letter Wednesday night, thinking it would arrive by Thursday, money would go through, we would be fine. No no. Come Friday, I receive this panicked email from Chris saying that the money hasn't gone through, that our estate agent is in Bristol giving a training session and there's no one at the office who knows that they're doing/can help us. So now, we're sitting here, no one has contacted us regarding any information and I'm really aggravated. We're I suppose moving on Monday, we'll in all actuality, Chris and his mother are moving us on Monday as I'm off to work.

And we have to go back to ikea, suffer through another arduous near divorce but perhaps come out stronger. But right now I'm living amongst boxes and mess. And last night at John Lewis, I grew up by buying a kettle, dust buster, toaster and an iron. But today, I'm going to make the most of it by leaving the house, going to Upper st. and finding cool things such as, I have no idea what, I just like stuff.

east

E2 to be exact. Chris and I are moving in, just the two of us in one week to a brand new building along Regent's Canal. We're right by Broadway Market, London Fields, central Hackney and tennis courts. I'm psyched to move as it's all high spec, clean (which is surprisingly such a luxury). Our rent is about to nearly double, but it's worth it for the space. I do love where we're leaving now, but we're only going to be a twenty minute walk away. And seriously, storage is a blessing.

We just came back from vintage shopping on Brick Lane and I found this bright purple wooly jumper for £10. These are the things I look forward to on the weekend. And now that our rent is so high, I can't do regular clothing shops any longer. Well I can if it's vintage or not as expensive...(Chris thinks I'm a bit of a loose cannon, but not really, even though our wardrobe is bursting with clothes, some of which haven't even been warn since I've moved to England, which is now, over a year ago).

Tonight I believe we're getting together with Chris' friend Derry, who I happened to bump into on the bus ride to work and who happens to be a great Liverpudlian who I sometimes can't understand.

sion

Week of mayhem. Balls of feet throbbing. Actually I'll bet they're bruised. Thanks London Fashion Week.

I'm going to leave this open but I saw Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell and Tom Ford up close and 1 inch make up thick yesterday. And I checked in Hamish Bowles.

What am I doing with my life?

non stop

Seriously, I'm ostensibly crying now due to wheeze.

sneeze

No idea why, but since we've returned, basically since I stepped foot in our door, I've been sneezing non stop. Chris says my face looks really puffy so I'm thinking it's allergies but I'm sneezing as often as a pregnant woman wees. I'm now annoyed. And we're meeting Chris' parents for lunch today and I'm all sneezy, wheezy, teary, and evidently puffy, however I can seduce them with a bottle of ice wine that my dad bought for them. Chris and I were discussing the day that our parents meet. I'm sure it will happen soon enough, and although the idea isn't entirely horrifying, it's definitely intense.

But yeah, holiday at home is the best kind. I did have my double cheeseburger on the way home, however the best one I had came after a night of drinking with Alessandro. The was the night where Chris fell down a ditch on Decew rd. because he made the taxi driver pull over so he could wee. And I really didn't think we had that much until I woke up at 8am to drive my dad to work and felt like vomiting and dying at the same time. But a nap and a cheeseburger on the way to Toronto solved that problem.

And I saw my family. And when speaking to them I could hear how different I sounded (not solely based on accent, which sometimes made me sound Australian to my fellow Canadian, but moderately English to everyone else), just with life experience etc. blah blah blah. However I'm tired of explaining my job, clients we have, parties we've thrown, celebs I've seen. In fact, the idea of work tomorrow seems far too abstract. And the thought of London as a return to home, not as an abstraction but as a fact is even more far out.

I'm sneezing therefore I'm quitting.

jet and lagging

We're back in England again after Canadian holiday. I'm tired and weird.

It's another full day of laundry and adjusting back to GMT.

It was a fantastic holiday. I'll embellish later.

Chris knew we were back in London when at noon, whilst we were asleep (our flight landed at 4:30am and we took a nap from 6-noon) some estate kid yelled 'dick head'.

It's good to be back home.

nearly home not nearly packed

A few things:

Chris and I have a flat! Loads more details to come but we're leaving just him and I, along the Regent's Canal, in E2. We've secured our place and move in around the 29th. Amazing. But to be perfectly honest, I haven't even see the place yet. He was in charge of viewing today and he liked it, so there you go. Two weeks holding deposit. Done.

24 hours and I'm nearly home. I'm a bit drunk as we went out to celebrate our flat/holiday and I basically had a bottle of wine to myself. Oh well. Love a drunk and pack.

That's all. I report back on the other side of the Atlantic. I still can't believe I'm this excited to leave London, England. But I have had a lot of time to reflect today on how much I've changed and where I am in life. I am about to move in with my future husband. I am officially, and only now officially, an adult!

another

I haven't kicked the stress but I've regained a sense of humour. And an appetite. Well at lunch I didn't feel like eating but the amazing french meal I had for dinner made me completely forget my troubles!

Yes, Chris is having insomniac sympathy pains. He told me over this amazing piece of salmon I had for dinner that he was having dreams of throwing footballs around and in real life he could feel himself making a fist to throw and simulating this motion, which inevitably woke him up from a light sleep. I too could feel myself drop off asleep, then wake up suddenly. That's when you know that you won't be able to fall asleep again for another hour. The quick jolt.

Yesterday whilst travelling on the train back to London from Birmingham I felt that I had figured out the meaning of life whilst we were travelling through a tunnel. We had these two pesky children and lazy Black Country parents and I realised why parents shouldn't procreate, but this dire need to. And I swear I had the reason why we're existent, but then we came out of the tunnel and it now escapes me. Then the annoying family got off the train at Snow Hill, as did Chris and I. Then I stressed more. Then read Kurt Vonnegut. Chris read John Updike.

I keep thinking, maybe I'll get sacked? That's in more of an optimistic way like when you're hungover and think, maybe I'll get hit by a car, as in, please allow that happen. I would rather be in hospital than here. (In all seriousness, I don't compare work to hangover to car accident. I just need a holiday. 3 days!)

early

Oh my! On Friday's at work, get have early dismissal at 4pm. This actually means Sophie and I head down to the pub, have two bottles of wine, stagger to Camden. Meet Chris, have another glass (I have no idea how I finished it) then Chris and I stagger down to have some vietnamese. Then we flop on the tube, come home, watch batman forever only for me to fall asleep at midnight.

Thankfully I don't feel suicidally hungover today as it's a) bank holiday weekend and we're travelling back to Brum and b) we have to go out and find a flat which is an excruciating experience.

And apparently it's a big night out in Birmingham tonight. I hope it doesn't turn into fog night where everyone looks like hell in photos.

And only 4 more days of work until Canadian holiday!

nasty

I'm struggling. I'm having massive anxiety right now and I'm really upset with facets from my work.

Personal problems I'm having right now though are as follows:

My friend Tom phoned me and I hadn't spoken to him in nearly two years, well voice on voice, we've spoken via net and firstly he told me that I'm have a bit of an accent, and I felt that whilst speaking with him, I was being a bit self involved, and was being highly outgoing, and doing silly voices which really isn't me. And I'm having a bit of personal change trauma right now. And I'm afraid that in going home, all these changes, most of which I haven't realised have happened, they will all surface and it will turn out I'm becoming a bit of a shitty person. I don't think fundamentally I've changed, but I'm not usually so me me me (this is funny on a blog as it obviously is all about me...but really in life, I prefer hearing others speak).

I'm just horrendously nervous about going home. So nervous and so anxious that I can't even envision myself getting on the plane. Aside from the fact that I have to get through another week of work, every time I get on the tube, I keep thinking that I'm going to die.

And today on the bus ride home from work, I was nearly weeping (but that's related to something entirely different). And I came home, and was speaking to Chris and started to cry. August seems to be the month of the cry. I think it may be due to the fact that I'm not exercising my brain properly and I'm feeling consumed by this vacuous, anonymous city, and even playing scrabble a bit tipsy on Monday, I was actually physiologically angry, something I've never been before. I came home and felt my blood bubble and my temperature rise. And I was really moody, even with my friends which I never am, only boyfriend because he'll still love me regardless.

Is this symptomatic of anything? Am I cracking?

fete

The typical Stevie affair. Drinks. Sweeties. Man down at midnight. Me spilling vodka all over my crotch and having to take the bus home with wet pants. The boys went a bit weird and primitive having their faces painted and boasting a water gun fight. And lastly, which is actually firstly, us walking to bloody Turnpike Lane which is in the middle of nowhere and the three of us, (Chris, Alex and I) becoming severely lost and agitated with one another, not speaking, not even remotely happy until we had a burger king whopper. However today I'm not hung over, I just feel insanely gross from having eaten a whopper and a bigmac in one weekend. Today for lunch I had a salad. And tonight I'm only going to eat soup. Fun night though.

frome

Well well. I'm off to Stevie's again which can only mean debauch, carnage, three legged races, ring toss, many many cakes and most likely too much absinthe. They're having an English Festival at their house with stalls and prizes and it's fancy dress as a classic english villager, but I have no idea what I'm going to wear but if Chris goes at Pete Doherety, the village drunk, I'll be Kate Moss, village beauty etc etc as clearly there's more to that...

Also, I'm now more than ever before thankful that I was in my school's rendition of The Sound of Music. However brutally embarrassing it is because there's a tape immortalizing how awful a singer I am, it made me learn the words to the whole bloody soundtrack. And when you go to your bosses house for drinks and a bbq which turns into a 1am everyone really drunk singing along to the Sound of Music, doing the So Long, Farewell dance and remembering it all, one can't help but think, maybe this will help me get ahead. Or maybe it will make one think that I'm not really that shy. Or that I can't really hold my liquor.

It was fun yesterday at work though when everyone was dirty hungover and we all went for a mcdonalds. Yes, carrying McDonlads down bond st is always a classy affair.

speedy

I breathe a sigh of relief. My female housemate Suzy is back from Estonia, Latvia and Finland and there is a girl in the house again to lay down the clean law. Speaking of, Chris is shaving off his beard right now and I've found a few minutes of solitude.

Mistake typing that as he's back in the room drying his baby face off.

But a few observations: I was walking to our house which are brown stone townhouses, Edwardian style and each one has a flower box in the window. And every house in this upper middle class neighbourhood has gorgeous tulips, daffodils, daisies, etc planed. There are 5 house in a row and each is lovely. Minus ours which is brown, dead weeds with dead daisies in a plastic pot. And everyone had lovely planters on their doorstep. We have our recycling bin and compost out. And apparently our house leaks onto the house next door and we're destroying their walls. On the plus, we don't blast James Morrison at 3am so we can't be hated that much.

This weekend is shaping up to be full of fun. And today I had the massive giggles at work which hasn't ever happened, and really hasn't happened as of late in general. And tonight Suzy and I were being ridiculously silly, mainly hearing her do an american accent whilst saying Zoolander quotes. She doesn't have it quite down yet.

Ok, Chris looks so Austrian when clean shaven. It's bed time. I need to think of more substantial things to say, but me laughing at work is a good sign.

ok ok

Things are far better. But a bit messier. I did complete all the laundry, however our bedroom is now full of clean clothes on the floor instead of dirty ones.

London has turned shit and rainy again. Except the bloody tube is disgustingly humid still. My face does literally run down my face. I've quit wearing mascara as it just cakes off on to my cheeks by the end of the day.

I've shifted around a bit at work as well. I'm in limbo currently by starting next month, I believe I'm doing fashion PR fully as opposed to just one account which is exciting, however I'll miss out on all the fun music stuff that we've got planned for January.

And sometimes I feel when I leave work at the end of the day that I'm one of the worst PRs because I'm far too blunt and obvious about things. For instance, there is an advert here regarding that power outage that happened in Ontario, Pennsylvania, New York etc in 2003 that portrays it as quite lovely and wonderful, showing the community enjoying the darkness and sitting together (Joanna Newsom did the soundtrack for the advert which really does add a bit of mood) and I said, actually it wasn't that romanic really, we did get free ice cream but mainly there was a bit of panic since it lasted, what, 4 days? (I was so gutted because it was right before I left uni and I had a tv in my room for the first time in my life and I had hooked up our Super NES and was playing boyfriend at the time at Dr. Mario (and absolutely destroying him might I add!), then the power cut and we didn't know what to do with ourselves. 4 hours in we had mad cabin fever, but only due to Dr. Mario being taken away in such a cruel fashion). Ok, so that's one instance. And when i'm hungover, I don't just blag and say I'm tired, but I think I do that because it's insanely obvious that I wish I was dead.

Only 13 more working days until I'm home for two weeks!

surreal

Well yesterday the hysterical laughter simply turned into hysterics which I won't dive into horrific detail actually I'm leaving out all of them (just in case). Let's just say I had one of the worst days yesterday and couldn't really sleep last night.

However in the cliched and voted best quotation from cinematic history "tomorrow is another day" (Scarlett O'Hara, Gone with the Wind). Even though tomorrow is already today. And today is sunny, gorgeous and really the best opportunity to air out my dirty laundry (literally). I'm washing everything I own right now, and basically all of Chris' stuff too. We're doing all of our sheets, shirts, pants, socks, you get the point. We've even moved our drying rack onto the balcony. And as for starting the flat search, because of the drama pertaining to yesterday we're putting it on hold until next weekend.

And 3 weeks today we'll be on our way to Gatwick to return to Canada (or in Chris' case to go there for the first time and be overwhelmed by the outpour of love from my family, apparently they're travelling in two cars to get us because everyone wants to go, I spoke to my dad on the phone yesterday and he said he's just going to go and not tell anyone because he feels "enough is enough". Thanks dad).

And tomorrow the rain starts again.

95-96

I"m laughing hysterically right now.

Chris was just twiddling around on his guitar and started playing Peaches by Presidents of the United States of America which lead to a sing along, which lead to YouTubeing videos which lead to me, in gr.6 loving these songs. They're still amazing, and I'm so serious. Weird Al, post ironic, hugely influential. And I remember hearing Lump through the gym walls when I was in gr.6 when the gr.7 and 8s were at the school dance and wanting to be there so badly whilst I was binding a book I had written for english. I was speaking to my gr.6 crush on the phone whilst watching much music and Big Me came on and he said "I'm going to have to call you back" so he could watch it without any distractions. And I was all over Beck like a rash. I have Odelay on cassette. I remember hearing Sonic Youth at 12 but not really getting it. And I remember watching KIDS, and not really that either. Why did we grow up to be so serious?

head

I've been having some bad days lately. And Chris was an absolute doll and took me out for an amazing at our favourite little french restaurant where we eat mussles, crepes and ummm...rabbit? The server came by and I ordered up and Chris, casual under pressure, ordered rabbit. Need I mention that our family pet rabbit died a few months back now (Milton RIP). I had a bite, and I can't say I would ever order it myself but it was quite tender. But seriously, where it comes from. hop hop hop

Aside from bad days, all the rest are great. But our room is an absolute tip. And I keep buying new clothes so I don't have to go searching through the old stuff. Mainly, we need to start looking for a one bedroom flat tomorrow but that requires far too much effort. I'm pro Foxtons. I don't know how my partner in crime feels though.

29.5c

One last funny thing. I'm dating sport guy who I've never dated before. Two previous boyfriends have been the least interested in sports guys imaginable. One was an artist, the other a musician. Chris likes books too but we have to listen to the cricket, watch the football, and when it's on, rugby too. So when the game was on and someone scored and they all jumped up and I didn't because my reaction time wasn't in proportion, I felt a bit a fool.

I also loved when Villa got a penalty shot and the boys high fived each other. What have I gotten myself into?

29c

It's still warm-ish here. Well I was so hot last night, and woke up this morning to grey skies, however still assumed it was humid but it was quite cool. But later this afternoon it warmed up considerably and now my face is quite red from being hot.

Some from a few posts back, during the Baileys rant...here's that story that isn't metaphorical at all, just something funny, well something I would only find funny, and maybe my friend Brynn.

I went to Sainsbury's on Berkley st. (just to let non-londoners know, that's quite posh Berkley st. and Sainbury's is only a grocery store). Anyway, I bought some fruit and was eating it outside of Starbucks still on Berkley st. Then a homeless guy came up to me whilst I was mid-watermelon-bite and asked me for some change, which I sincerely didn't have, except since I was mid bite and thought it was moderately funny that I was eating fruit outside of Starbucks on Berkley st. and was being asked for change, I sort of giggled like you do at restaurants when you're mid-bite and the server asks you a question, and he stood there and sort of laughed as well. I then swallowed and said that I was sorry and didn't have any, and amazingly enough, he said, "oh darling, that's quite alright". I usually get either no response or expletives said under their smug little breaths. Umm...I reminded you before that my life is boring and I have to get my kicks somewhere right? It was a sincere moment though in my phony life full of PR. (not that I am complaining, but I feel like the last genuine dinosaur).

These are some photos of Villa, Martin O'Neil and Chris and I who went west west west Midlands to Bridgnorth to explore the vast country of England. It was lovely and quiet and we found this old church and graveyard.

I feel as though this week is going to go by a glacial pace though. Even though today was super busy, so is tomorrow, and actually so is Wednesday, but mark my words, come Thursday, a slow down. And this weekend?

30c

Whoah. It's actually about 29c in this country. Actually in the midlands, I bet it's even warmer in London. I went back to Birmingham with Chris and co. to see Villa play Inter-Milan. My first football match was received rather well and I got to see my husband in the flesh (will upload photos upon our return to London this eve).

And last night I had a great night at James' parents were we played Wii, had a bbq and drunk some beers. Then Chris and I returned to his parents house and watch CSI until I fell asleep, then until I woke at 8am to someone mowing their lawn. Suburban noise is far harder to sleep through than urban noise, minus the dink who owns the masserati and revs it up each time he decides to drive away.

I'm still feeling more nihilistic than usual. But I'm braving it all for a drive along the english country side since it's a gorgeous day! I feel far more placid however leaving London. I hadn't left in nearly 2 months, or at least not since Wales and that's a bit excessive. And the count down has begun until Canadian holiday, ummm...26 days left and only 20 working days left (I think?)

Sorry, my life is rather mundane and boring.

take that back

I've been bidding on ebay like the adult I am, and completely forgot about it, and didn't win! I lost by £1. I've done that about five times this year.

I'm going to my first football match tomorrow. Shit on the city! Actually, kiss on Martin O'Neil's face. Would he leave his wife for me? He did put his career on hold to take care of her whilst she was ill, but I want to kiss him so badly.

Hmm..I don't know if I should mention this, but I'm drinking a post-work cocktail of bailey's on ice, so I'm a bit tips, and am listening to REM, I bet this is translating into my strange dialect that makes little to no sense about little to nothing.

But I have a funny, metaphorical story sort of. Oh and both of my watches stopped at the same time. Basically I'm going to die. Before I get married.

refined

Things have been really hilarious lately for me. Mainly because I'm hyper-cynical. Other than that, it's because my attempts at a higher sense of being, but truly, thinking far too much. I've had funny incidents with tramps, beggars, boyfriends, old friends, work colleagues, and mobile phones.

Video cameras too.

But as much as I hate being in my 20s, as much as I really do, I love this plight of finding things out about yourself that you didn't know existed.

Also, I'm getting married.

as promised

We did a fry up because we all drunk a lot of wine last night. Tet, Alex, Chris, Ed and I all walked along the canal and then went to play in a playground. I believe it's Shoreditch park to be exact. And I realised that I don't have the stomach to swing. I was swing champ in gr. 4 but last night it made me nauseous and no, it wasn't just the booze. But to be perfectly honest, I didn't feel bad today in the slightest.

And last night, whilst drinking the wine, Chris and I had our own dance party in the kitchen as the others ate their lamb. We had already been out for dinner and had already consumed one bottle of white. I haven't had a sip of alcohol in two weeks, minus Thursday when I finally saw my friend Andrew. I hadn't seen him since October.

And Canada is booked. 1 September. 6pm. We land. 7:30pm. I get a double cheeseburger.

If you're a Canadian friend and want to hang out, drop me an email. You can meet Chris. He's English and house trained.

more

Wow. It's sunny in England (London). This is amazing. No. Astonishing. Amidst the floods and rain and cold. This has been my coldest, wettest summer thus far in my life but also my most responsible, mature, summer of love.

I am achingly professional now in the job scope. I had my first "entertain a journalist with a posh breakfast" yesterday morning which went exceptionally well. Love a bit of breakfast at the Wolesley, next to the Ritz on a Friday morning. A consumate professional (ironically because I've been trying to spell the word consumate as my mac is telling me it's spelt wrong and I've F12ed it and it can't find it and I'm now too lazy to google).

Ok and writing all that has prevented me from eating breakfast with my housemates/Ed.

I'll continue post brunch.

run

Every morning before work I have this bizzare routine i.e. I'm a head case blah blah blah. Let me literally walk you through it:

I get up and shower whatever, that's not important. I walk to the bus stop which is around the corner from my house and sometimes it's right there and I think that I'm lucky, but sometimes I need to wait for ten minutes which is about the same amount of time it would take for me to walk to the tube but I'm lazy. And just as we're about to the turn the corner of the roudabout, right before my stop I think "what would happen if I just stayed on the bus" (I like just sitting) but then it stops and I get off because I'm boring. I get on Victoria line at Highbury and Islington, and usually allow pushy people to billow past me even though I'm in equal rush, but they're c-u-n-ts and yes I spell it out in my head as I am pushed, it makes me feel better about my helpless situation. I get on the tube, sometimes sweaty, sometimes empty. I still don't understand why there isn't any congruence between days. If it's sweaty I pray it won't stop in the tunnel like it did that fateful day around three weeks ago, and if it's quiet, I again pray it won't stop in the tunnel. Sometimes I think that I"m going to be early for work, then we get stopped at Euston station for 10 minutes and I'm perfectly on time for work. Anyway, I get off a Oxford circus and take the street exit. And as I'm riding the escalator up to exit, I always think about riding the tube drunk, this is because of the star wars posters everywhere and I know one of the jedi's personally and Chris, Tet and I rode the tube drunk once and haha, a storm trooper poster was looking straight at us, and we thought haha, that's our friend, but really, he's a jedi, not a stormtrooper. And Heman is in this week's Time Out, being a jedi. He's a prize!! Ok, I'm really silly which paralys into point two. Chris just came in and interrupted me with his guitar playing and now I'm blasting new Interpol through headphones and I will eventually go deaf because of him and my 17 year old lifestyle which consisted of Alexisonfire every other night. Really, this all parlays into my final point. Ok, so I'm exiting and thinking about riding the tube drunk at 8:45am, but then I think about the impending work that I have to do, and the things that I forgot to do the day before which are rarely anything because I'm angelic. And as I'm walking to the office from Oxford circus, well, really I"m on argyle st. now and don't have to walk along the busy bits, but I passed Liberty today which was having it's flowers delivered and I wanted a bouquet of stolen roses for myself! But I was good and kept walking but thought about if others thought I looked like a suspicious character but then ultimately decided that clearly I don't because every time I've gone to a gig and they search everyone else's bag, mine is never searched because I have one of those faces, those faces with chubby cheeks and perfect teeth i.e. a good samaritan. So I'm on Regent st. now and it's not too busy but buses come from different directions and I pretend that if I lived on near Clapham Common I would take the 88 to work, as well as Camden, I would take the C2 etc. Now I'm on Conduit after crossing Regent well, J walking which can usually be really easy but today there were scary motorcycles. So I'm now walking down Conduit thinking about mildly profound things, profound for 8:50am. It's more about my physical appearance and if I'm dressed well that day, my hair and the weird way it blows now that I have fringe, my smell, if I sweated out of my mascara which I day throughout the day anyway. And I see business men who are exceptionally well dressed in London and they carry umbrellas even when it isn't raining and I pass Vivienne Westwood where there's always a crowd of people who stand outstand because the woman who is in charge, not Vivienne herself, although her and I have discussed brownies (we actually really have!) is always late. And I think my walk is moderately uninspired, and then I trip. Today I tripped because the shoes I was wearing a a titch too big, and I hit a pothole but I don't even care, and slightly smile because it's a funny way to break this inner monologue that happens in my head everyday now! and I think that these smartly dressed men look at me to see my reaction, but I have none other than that was sort of funny, but let's see if I'll remember it later today, which evidently I did, so maybe it's a bigger deal than I had initially thought since I'm dwelling on it now and defending my reaction right now, and my reaction then. And then I turn the corner at Burberry and I arrive at the office and I turn off my monologue and head upstairs and am the essence of PR.

But this inner monologue is the strangest thing but I'm thinking maybe it will stop once they change the advertising on the escalators up, but if that happens and it doesn't exist, I will cherish those 15 minutes in my head because those are my only minutes until just after 6pm when I tube home, which strangely enough, doesn't consist of an inner monologue, mostly the repetition of fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck c-u-n-t

how hilarious

Guess who knocked over the travel size battleship for me to pick up? But my room is spotless and the sheets are grand. And we had a proper hoover. Maybe I will stop sneezing now.

a return

My health hasn't. I'm still stuffed up. The fever has passed.

I'm going to Ikea tonight on a date. It's open until 11pm here so it can be a night thing.


What else? I'm quite boring but I am flying home on 1st September with Christopher in tow. I'm flying back to London on the 14th. Let's see if I have any friends left!

maybe it's my smell

I just had a wicked bout of nostalgia and everything that has changed and my friends at home and stuff like that. I'm really inarticulate now. And what else has changed? I have different expressions now, and a different intonation. But I've speaking to a friend on msn and telling her how I'm coming home in September but I had this thought yesterday as to who are my friends left in Canada and when I go back, will i actually see anyone? I felt invalid but not really sorry for myself. It's not validation but the supreme notion that you go travelling, it fucks you up when you come home even if it's a short time especially if your closest friends aren't in st. catharines, or even Canada (the ones in Taiwan).

And I already had an anxiety dream about one particular person and seeing them and this person just not acknowledging me and it making me distressed and frustrated and really just embarrassed. It's this pre-supposed superstition I have that I can change the way people think, or the wish that I could but really I can't expect anyone to react the way I do, which makes me want make my bed a semi violent way. And really, I've been nice and cool and all that stuff, but it's so aggravating! I'm the absolute worst at severed relationships, I wish that when I say outloud, I hate someone that I actually as opposed to forgiving them and wanting to be their friend again.

It's a bit of cage drama. I keep running into similar scenarios that don't end beautifully but the climax vs. denoument is always quite lame. But it plateaus and then I'm just annoyed.

Truth be told though, I definitely know people who pull a lot of shit, whether accidental or purposeful.

This is definitely the fever talking.

new

New illnesses, new era. I'm hardly like new yet. I'm still over-sweating, throbbing congestion and ache-y. I'm home again as well. I can't stop thinking about cheeseburgers, especially a Wendys double cheeseburger with ketchup only, my personal favourite. I've been discussing with my brother what we're going to do upon my return and that seemed to be our special bonding time, eating cheeseburgers together. Plus Wendys doesn't exist here. This was not my point.

My point was that even though I can't watch the Big Compfy Couch or eat cheeseburgers (hypothetically, I wouldn't really be able to stomach it anyway) I've found a new way to feel like I'm at home when really, I'm at my new home. TV links website has Full House on it! All the classic episodes. I'm about to watch the Wedding where uncle Jesse and aunt Becky get married but before they do he goes sky-diving, lands in a tree, falls out into a tomato truck, lands in jail, Becky bails him out, they get married, a gospel choir sings Forever, well as back-up, and Michelle and Howie dance. Chris didn't appreciate Full House but I did however find myself laughing which I'm hoping is only for nostalgic purposes. In OAC, no one could stump me in Full House trivia. Sadly, I could remember all the mundane details from this ridiculous show. I'm not as good now as I haven't watched TBS in over a year, and didn't it stop playing on there anyway?

Ok I feel I'm standing alone on this. I hope someone else has a fond appreciation for it or else I feel so silly. Regardless, I'm still going to watch the Wedding and basically every other episode that's on there.

And last night, Chris and I found a good quality version of Borat. The internet never ceases to amaze.

melting

I'm propped up in the bed, with a temperature of 101 right now. I'm home sick from work and I think that's odd. At my old job during uni, I couldn't really ever phone in sick because only 4 of us worked there. I did inventory when I was ailing from mono so it's nice to be able to lie in the fetal position for the entire day wishing I wasn't so warm! I am a warm person to begin with and I'm basically heating up my bedroom solely on my own body heat. Chris even slept in housemates room because I was being so noisy and was far too hot. I become this sad little reject when ill, like when I would stay home sick from school and lie in my parents bed to watch television, but my dad would come home and see I was lying on his pillow and would lose it because it meant that he was now about to get sick.

My family has always been unsympathetic towards illness ironically enough since we're all raging hypochondriacs with flaming neuroses, hence the pillow story. My family is more, stay the F away when you're sick because you'll end up getting me sick! Love a bit of sympathy. The best part of being sick however is watching the Price is Right and random children's shows, even when I was around 17 and in high school. I find huge comfort watching The Big Compfy Couch when I'm ill. Today I'll just sit and watch Girl, Interrupted on dvd or something to that affect. Yes. Feeling awfully leperous, but I probably smell.

poorly

Sick again! What is wrong with me? I actually believe it's my environment because I'm not a sickly person but I have a cold, again! My sinuses are throbbing right now. I'm breaking down.

Last night I was forced into watching Wolf Creek, a scary movie about Brits travelling in the outback of Australia. I should preface this by saying that I don't watch scary movies anymore because I become too stressed and anxious to the point where I'm nauseous and I revert to acting like a child. Last night was intense, and I got up, told Chris to keep watching whilst I hid in the hallway and read a magazine. I came back in ten minutes later to find I missed the scene where some girl gets her spine sliced. I was happy. I watched the rest until the end because there was only 10 minutes left. That's my weekly act of bravery.

Brick

There's this amazing Mediterranean restaurant off Upper st. in Angel that Chris and I frequent regularly and last night was amazingly good!! I get this chicken dish done in a cream sauce with apricots and some other spices and honey on a bed of spinach and it's the best thing I've ever eaten! Chris gets lamb kofte with this super hot chili sauce and it's the second best thing I've ever eaten. Plus we always start with the fried trio of cheese with jam and Chris finishes with the bread and butter pudding and I try to change my dessert menu around every time we go. I could go back right now!!

But I'm going to have a bagel on Brick lane instead. I'm search of the perfect leather jacket as the weather here is shit and I'll need sooner rather than later, and why not look now? I also went for a stroll down Oxford st. after work since I got off early and that was a bad life choice. I do want to ram everyone on the sidewalk and maybe push them in front of a bus? (not really, but Chris and I both agree that if we were a bus driver, we would take people out, and I even went so far as to say I would jump the sidewalk and plow them down on there, that is how big my distain is for them). Thankfully, the only thing you need to worry about in east london is sharp, electro haircuts and excessively pointy shoes however I think the shoreditchy types have calmed down, in fact they all are nu rave, but I heard that's dying too.

All big news! I'm planning on coming home for two weeks starting 1st September!! Chris (I've written his name far too often in this blog already, sorry, I'm not one of those types, I"m going to brick lane alone to prove it) is coming with. He's never been to Canada so it should be fun. I"ll be so confused by the left side/right side of the road swap since I'm perfectly adjusted here. And to drive again will feel very odd. And I need to renew my license when I'm home because it expires in December. And I have to pick up my university diploma since it still hasn't been sent to my house. And I need to find my running shoes and tennis racket. That's all I can think of for now.

Told

I went to see Tell No One at cinema yesterday. It's tortured and fantastic and at the end I couldn't stop tearing. When the credits came up, I actually couldn't stop myself from crying and Chris asked if I was ok. I stopped (momentarily), went to the toilets, and wiped the makeup off my face! That's not as ridiculous as it sounds as there were at least 5 other women doing the same.

And then on the walk home some guy walked past us and said "nice tits".

sugar

It wasn't a meat fest, it was a sugar extravaganza! And it didn't rain for once!! But really, I doubt anyone was really drunk but instead was high on sugar. The pure white stuff. Actually it wasn't pure, it came in the form of licorice allsorts and lollies and refreshers that I had never heard about because we don't have them in Canada. But because of mixing sugar with alcohol, the party had some weird consequences.

Let's just say that balloons shouldn't be used as pretend in boys. Especially on Tet. It looks especially wrong on Tet as he resembles a pubescent girl. But Tet is a 23 year old man. I think we all felt a bit like Gary Glitter.

Come on come on Come on come on Come on Come on Come on

Take a look at Chris' face when Sible is shoving a breast balloon down his top. Yes we all went a bit weird.

Today is my day in lieu for working that weekend. It's grand.