She was there. All pink and gold and glittery.

Month: January, 2012

It’s now or never and I ain’t gonna live forever.

I’m always up for trying something at least once.  Sometimes, I really luck out and discover something amazing.  Other times, I should just learn to say no.

We have a friend from Estonia named Henri and he brought some Estonian cuisine with him to London after the holidays.  So, Thursday night Tom, Jordan, Henri, Kathryn, Juan Pablo, Maria and I had our first taste of Estonian liquor (think White Russian) and….blood sausage.  Never.  Again.

I do not, nor have I ever, enjoyed sausage.  So imagine me eating sausage that has been cooked in blood.  Or don’t imagine it.  I wouldn’t want to either.  It was revolting.  However, as any polite houseguest would, I tried it and managed to eat it.  But not without holding my nose when it came out of the oven.  Or threatening to kill Tom if the piece he cut landed in my lap.

Estonia seems like a beautiful country- one that I may even like to visit someday.  But I will not be eating there, nor will I have any desire to do so.  If you’re feeling adventurous, you can even take a look on Youtube and watch a video of blood sausage being made, much like we did AFTER we ate.  And for the record, watching the video post meal was not any better than it would have been watching it BEFORE the meal.  Sausage making is just not a pleasant experience for anyone.

Those of you who are friends with me on Facebook can see the lovely video of us “enjoying” the sausage.  I couldn’t get it to upload here.  For those of you who aren’t friends with me on Facebook, imagine my face as I ate this:



If your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough.

You know how you have moments in life where you sit and think, “how did I get here?”  Well, I had one of those moments tonight.

It’s another weekend of engineering works on the tube, meaning our line is closed so it’s quite far for us to get in and out of town.  We headed into Camden for the night (where we spent a few hours in a bar that played music that made me almost certain I was actually at a bad wedding) and Jordan and I decided we’d rather saw off a limb than take the night bus home so we headed for the tube.  Because it was nearly closing we knew we’d not make it all the way home without having to take another form of transportation.  The driver of our train announced we could take the Chiltern Railways to one stop past ours and then continue back on a bus (a very simple journey).

I’m going to assume most of you have caught on and realised that this simple plan DID NOT GO AS IT SHOULD.  Turns out, the driver was wrong- we had missed the last Chiltern Railways train.  So it was either perish on the night bus or spend a small fortune on a cab.  This is where the gods of transportation came in.  3 other (very lovely) people were headed our way so we all decided to split the cab fare. Sounds normal, I know.  We all packed into the cab and started talking about what each one of us does for a living.  There were students, there were letting agents, there was a nudist.  Uh-huh, a nudist.  Because every cab ride should come with a nudist.  A naturist, as they say in England.  I love every bit of the fact that I don’t know what to make of this and the entire time the only thing I could think is “How did I get here?  Only me.”  It’s the little things like this that make me sure I need a book deal.

The ones who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones that do.

This semester we’ve been given the great task of starting a (public relations related) blog.  It won’t be nearly as exciting as this one.  Not even for me.  I hate being forced to write, but such is life.  I’ll continue to add my undying wit and sarcasm, if only to make it a little bit more interesting for you AND me.  

Follow me, won’t you?

Let go of all of the horrible things in your life and just live. And one day, when you’re old, look back with no regrets.

I took this on the South Bank.  How can you not love something that looks like that?!

Home sweet London.  I’m a bit overdue (okay, WAY overdue), but I’ve made it back to London in one piece and it’s very safe to say, I have no idea where to start with this.

First things first, I kidnapped my good friend Caitlin and brought her back to London with me.  It’s always a great feeling to be able to share this wonderful city with my friends, if only for them to get a handle on why I love London so much.

I spent the week as the designated tour guide, showing Caitlin the best that London has to offer.  Naturally though, because most things never go according to plan in my life, a lot of the things we tried to do were either closed or under construction.  We couldn’t even get into the zoo.  Despite a few roadblocks, I think Caitlin enjoyed her time here.  I’m sure the highlight of the trip for her was the fact that I decided to move flats so she was the lucky winner who got to help me move my things from flat one to flat two.  Up a hill.  In the dark.  And the cold.  (Well worth it, by the way.  I now have double the space and am directly next door to Jordan and Tom.  Obviously we didn’t spend enough time together.)

Yesterday was my first full day of class and it.  Was.  Long.  You know that moment when you REALLY want to look at someone and say, “I told you so?”  I’m glad my tutor Pam wasn’t around to have that moment yesterday.  She warned us and said taking three classes in one day would be hard, but those of us who wanted to study Consumer PR AND Fashion PR insisted.  We shouldn’t have.  She was right and I’ll  be the first to admit it.  However, if I can survive this, I’m certain I can survive anything.  It’s just going to be a long semester.

Aside from school, I’ve got plenty of big things in store for this year.  My social calendar is quite full.  Don’t let the above paragraph about loads of school work fool you.  London has continued to make me a procrastinator.  On Saturday I had an interview for a job at Wimbledon so fingers crossed my little followers.  If I get the job, I will surrender my life to the tennis gods, but at least my wallet will thank me.

I have lots of other big things planned for the year, but I’ll fill you in as they come.  Just believe me when I say 2012 will not be the year I start to get more sleep.  And great news- the world can’t end in December.  I have too much to do.