Recap: #Ladyweek2012

Those of you who follow me on Twitter were probably scratching your heads last week, wondering what the h*%£ I was on about with all of my #Ladyweek2012 tweets. Well, I had the week off from work and my bestie visited to check out my new house, new hood, and drink a lot of rosé. She came bearing gifts from Trader Joes and an old-school friendship bracelet (mine is the pink one!).

We pretended we were Patsy and Edina from AbFab and drank before noon, and especially copious amounts of rosé at fancy restaurants. Our first full day together, we went to lunch at Ottolenghi! We also got cultural and saw the Heatherwick and Ballgown exhibitions at the V&A. I highly recommend both – especially Heatherwick. He is a genius!

One of the things my friend specifically requested we do was the Emirates Air Line. It's pretty great! You get an amazing view of the East End, including the Thames Barrier, even though it's sort of a trek to get there. 

Besides eating in restaurants, we also indulged in nights in drinking rosé (of course) and British TV. I got my friend hooked on the Great British Bake-Off over four types of cheeses and three types of meat.

And of course, we just wandered... up and down the streets of Stoke Newington, Dalston, Islington, Clerkenwell, Oxford Street, Soho, and Bermondsey Street... we went into shops, markets, cafes, and generally were ladies about town. It was an amazing staycation and we're already planning #Ladyweek2013 – maybe in America, maybe someplace in Europe... the sky is the limit because #ladyweek can take place anywhere with sun and rosé.

A rundown of East London neighborhoods...

via

My bestie sent me this yesterday, with the question "Is this true?!" She was referring to the designation of my soon-to-be new neighborhood – which she will hopefully be visiting in August (fingers crossed!).

My answer was, yeah pretty much.

I've circulated this graphic around my officemates, most of whom live on the right hand side of this graphic, for further comment. I'll let you know if any gems are forthcoming.

4 years and counting

Today is no ordinary Thursday. Today is the fourth anniversary of my arrival in the UK.

It's very interesting timing for me. When I think back to landing at Heathrow with 3 suitcases and a bike, I never thought I'd be a) still here, b) in a long-term committed relationship, c) trying to buy a house four years on – and yet it all feels completely natural. I guess what I mean is that I never thought I'd have eased into such a comfortable routine for myself in London.

Moving abroad often carries with it the dreams of travel, new experiences, excitement around every turn, and while there is definitely an element of that spice, I've also found a myself embedded in a rather normal domesticity that includes weekly veg boxes, dry cleaning runs, loads of laundry, HBO TV serieses, and occasional meals out with couple-friends. In essence, my expat life looks surprisingly like the life I probably would have had back in the US – except that I have a postcode with letters in it rather than a zip code with numbers.

And yet I still don't feel fully settled here in London. My recent trip home to US was an eye-opener for me in terms of realizing how much I missed simple American pleasures like driving through the farmlands of New Jersey, sitting out on my parents back deck in the sun, calling my grandmother without dialling a complicated access code and doing math to figure out what time it is for her. I don't know that I would be living in the 'burbs if I were in the US right now, but I do know that I wish I could have better access to the rolling green hills and hayfields of my childhood than I do now.

Even harder was seeing my friends at the wedding in Florida. I haven't been able to give you all a full debrief of the week because it was a rather bittersweet reminder that our respective lives have been changing in parallel, sometimes too much for me to bear. I listened to them recount all of the lovely details of weddings, vacations, nights out, that I've missed over the last several years with an increasingly sinking heart, knowing that unless I move back I will continue to miss out on these simple joys. On the one hand it was wonderful to arrive in a place and greet them as if no time had passed, and I felt so honored and secure in knowing that our friendships are still strong despite time and difference, but on the other hand it was desperately hard to leave them, yet again, to leave the sun and sand and get on a transatlantic flight to a cold, rainy, seemlingly isolated life.

So I am trying, on this anniversary day, to think of all the good in my expat life, rather than what I left behind. I am looking forward to travel to Barcelona, Ireland, the Middle East, around England and maybe more this year. I am looking forward to plans with lots of UK-based friends this summer – new friends who maybe didn't know me when I danced on tables in bars in Syracuse, or who ran wild with me through the streets of New York, but people who recognize the person I am now and find me endearing despite my rather American earnestness and volume levels. I am looking forward to hopefully finalizing a house purchase (more on that soon for everyone's reading delight) and I am hoping the place we find is a home not just for The Irishman and me but also a place for me to welcome all of my friends from far and wide – a little oasis in this big city I now call home, where we can pick up the conversation wherever it was left off.

That is my resolution for year 5 in the UK. I think it's probably going to be a pretty good one.

Hostess with the mostest

This past weekend marked the end of a month of visits and visiting. We wrapped it up with a stroll down Columbia Road flower market with our friends from Paris on a gloriously sunny Sunday, perfect for the weather and my energy level. I have to be honest and say that life has worn me out this March and I am ready for the relative calm of April. 

After my birthday dinner and subsequent week in Doha, I went straight to Dublin for a weekend of rugby and eating. But once we returned that Sunday, we only had a day to prepare for The Irishman's mother's arrival the following Tuesday. As she was going to be coming to London for the England-Ireland game on St Patrick's Day, she decided to come a few days early and indulge in some culture. Which meant we spent that week eating in restaurants with her and showing her around the city after our workdays.

We had dinner with her and The Irishman's father that Thursday and they went off to their hotel near Twickenham, giving us a night to ourselves before our friend Dave came to stay with us for the weekend. He had been in Holland visiting our friend Neil and came to spend St Patrick's Day with us. So we had a few more days of restaurants and drinking and merriment. He departed the Monday after St Patrick's Day.

After Dave left us, we had last week to get back into a semblance of a routine. That meant resuming the househunt, trying to restart exercise regimes, and reintroduce vegetables into our diets. Saturday our friends from Paris arrived, which meant we were back in the entertaining saddle; they stayed with some other friends they have in the city Saturday night but we met them for tapas on Exmouth Market and drinks in Clerkenwell before exploring East London together yesterday. They stayed at our flat last night and depart today and tomorrow.

I must say that I am exhausted. I'm not really used to this level of uninterrupted travel, entertaining, and socialising, nevermind mixing it with trying to find a new home. The Irishman and I are quiet people, we thrive on routines and when they're disrupted we often take it out on each other. We're really looking forward to spending the next few weeks reestablishing normality and refamiliarizing ourselves with each other. We also realized that it's been over 18 months since we had a proper vacation to just relax – ie, over 5 days without a commitment (wedding, friends, or family). Once I made that connection, it put a lot of my current exhaustion and bad temper into perspective and I realized just how ragged we'd both become. So stay tuned for my attempt to force us into a relaxing holiday sooner rather than later - while buying a house at the same time. So while I love all of my people, and enjoy having them to visit, I sometimes also enjoy the peace and quiet of my own place on my own. I'm looking forward to rediscovering that joy.

Chapel Down Winery

As you may have read, my parents visited me over the Thanksgiving weekend. One of their entertainment requests was a day out of London, and they've already hit many of the easy-to-reach tourist spots (Stratford-upon-Avon, Stonehenge, Oxford, etc). I had a think and remembered a friend of mine had recently visited Chapel Down Winery with her husband and a few other friends, and highly recommended it as a day out. So I booked us a tour and lunch reservations at the restaurant on the site, and Saturday morning we met at Charing Cross station to board a train out to Kent. 

The closest train station to the winery is at the village of Headcorn. As we had over an hour before our tour time, we took the opportunity to explore the little town. That's my parents, above, in a lovely wooden bus shelter. It's a really cute town, with a high street decorated for Christmas and an ancient churchyard surrounded by Tudor homes.

There was also a Christmas craft fair in the town hall, which we naturally had to visit. My mother bought up a few souvenirs while The Irishman and I had some really nice homemade sausage rolls. Then we jumped in a cab for a 20 minute drive to Chapel Down. 

The tour is approximately an hour and 45 minutes long, including a tasting. We saw two of the different vineyards with two separate types of vines, and the guide explained the growing and harvesting processes. We then went into the barns to learn how they actually make the wine.

Because the best English wines are actually sparkling wines, the guide spent the most time explaining the techniques they use to for creating fizz. Chapel Down uses the traditional French technique << champagnoise >> that involves a long process of turning the bottles to ensure that the yeast in the wine fully aerates the liquid. It's a fascinating process that was once done by hand but now is mechanized – which is still pretty cool to see. Below are some bottles of sparkling rosé in the midst of the turning, with the yeast by-product in the neck. It's pink, because it's ros

And here are some bottles of sparkling rosé ready to be finished.

Of course the tour ended with a tasting; the whites, rosé, and sparkling wines are amazing while the reds still need some work. The soil and temperature of Southeast England just don't allow for the maturing of the grape that will get a really rich, bold, deep red wine; hopefully they can move to making a more Beaujolais-style wine that will take advantage of the lack of intensity. At any rate, we picked up a bottle of their Bacchus Reserve white wine to have with Vietnamese food on Kingsland Road. Score!

Lunch in the restaurant was delicious, accompanied by more Chapel Down wine. We left the vineyard sated and content, having enjoyed the brisk country air and some really wonderful local products. Our cab back to the train station took us through the nearby little town of Tenterden, and had we been more energetic it would have been nice to walk off the meal looking into the shop windows. But at that point, we were all nearly asleep anyway. Oh well – just another reason to go back for another visit.

If you go:

Trains run direct to Headcorn from Charing Cross station; journey time is approximately an hour and train fare is around £18 per person. National Express has a great deal where if four adults travel together on a same-day return train ticket, you only pay for 2 people's tickets – essentially, it's 50% off. Taxis from Headcorn to Chapel Down are around £25 each way, and there is a taxi office at Headcorn station. Vineyard tours are £8 per person, but the grounds are open to the public and you can go for walks around the park regardless of whether you take the tour or not. The restaurant has an a la carte menu as well as a set menu for lunch – 2 courses for £13.95 or 3 courses for £15.95 which is excellent value for some really great food. 

Obligatory Expat Thanksgiving Post That's Really About Christmas

Photo courtesy of Flickr by Paparutzl 

This week is a holiday week in America. If I were still living there, today would probably be my last day of work. Or I might "work" tomorrow and scoot out after lunch to catch a train back to my parents.

But I don't live in America and I'm not going home to America this year, and I'm okay with all of this. I chose not to live there, and, while I miss my family and my friends, I don't really miss the food. I actually hate sweet potatoes and yams, so that's a win, and now that I can get Libby's canned pumpkin here (I worked out that I paid $2.25 per can for the pleasure of it, but hey, imports are expensive) I've gotten pretty good at replicating my Mom's pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.

I usually don't get worked up about missing holidays because I live far away, but this year I have an extra reason for being less than sad: my parents are arriving tomorrow evening for a long weekend of non-traditional Thanksgiving-ness.

My office has a restaurant headed up by a chef trained at The Wolseley, and he is cooking us all Thanksgiving lunch on Thursday. My parents will come for lunch in the midst of their museum-ing, and that evening we will go to the holiday shopping evening at my favorite local store Aria before dinner at Trullo. Friday we will see a show in the evening, and Saturday we will head down to Kent for a tour of Chapel Down Winery.

But the real focus of their visit will be to see London all dressed up for the holidays. Sunday will be devoted to visiting everything in London that screams Christmas: Fortnum & Masons, Regents Street, John Lewis, and of course Liberty. I'm gutted that the Christmas Past exhibit won't be open at the Geoffyre Museum while they're here - I'll just have to go to that myself. It's almost as if we as a family have decided to skip the Thanksgiving holiday and just run straight on to December.

I'm okay with that. As a kid, I never really liked Thanksgiving (no presents!) and as an expat I've been delighted to find myself obsessed with Christmas the way only a child can be. It's the way people here get excited for the holiday, the way it saturates the whole country (no multicultural/multireligious politically correctness here!), the way that there are Christmas cooking shows on TV, the way the country shuts down on the 23rd (except for the airports unless it snows/ices/squalls/etc), the way the Queen addresses the country and wishes everyone well. If Thanksgiving is a family holiday about love and thankfulness in America, Christmas is a holiday about love and unity in the UK - one big boozy knees up and bear hug to see out the end of the year.

So I'm glad to not be making a fuss about Thanksgiving this year; I am glad to be embracing the Christmas season early, kicking it off with a bang, with the people I love the most. Little Brother - can you join us last minute to make the weekend complete?

Bloggybody

Yet again, it's me, back at the blog after a noticeable absence, about to apologize for a lack of posting and etc. But this time, I'm not going to: I've been busy in the real world, and haven't really had the time or patience to chronicle it all in the virtual world. I'm not sorry about the lack of posting but I am sorry abut the lack of sharing.

So what have I been up to since my last post?

The last three weeks have been, well, just life. There were some highs and lows, celebrations and despair, decisions and reversions on decisions, trips abroad and time in my house. In no particular order, I...

...finished up a knitted baby gift over many evening hours for my dear friend Alex, whose baby shower is Saturday (which I cannot attend, to my chagrin) and who is due in September...

...played kickball at my friend's third annual Colonists vs Commonwealth 4th of July kickball game (we lost, again)...

...saw La rondine at Opera Holland Park and spotted Gok Wan and Joanna Lumley in the audience...

...met up with many friends for meals and drinks...

...missed my company's summer party at the delightful looking Dock Kitchen...

...agonized over whether to buy a pair of shoes in the Net-a-Porter sale...

...sort of tried to stay on track with my marathon training programme...

...decided, with The Irishman, to put off the plans to move until he makes some career decisions that will affect where we live...

...spent a weekend working on and off in the office and at home...

...went to Paris for 5 glorious days of shopping, eating, strolling, and seeing friends.

And now?

I'm back in the office, trying to repatriate myself into the working world. The weather is chilly so it feels like September, and I'm trying to keep the summery spirit rather than seek comfort in soft woolly sweaters. It's hard though with a dense sky that looks like lead and temperatures hovering at 19°C.

But I have much to look forward to!

This weekend a friend from the Netherlands visits to see art and eat food, next weekend we have tickets to Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead and another excursion to a local pop up restaurant, and after a quietish weekend in between I'll be traveling to the Lake District for the first time! Then it's off to Ireland for a rugby match of some sort, and then Brittany to celebrate the marriage of Jon et Alix, mes chers amis français. After all of that, I will be out of money and running upwards of 15 miles a weekend so by the time it really truly is September, I will be ready to start some serious hibernation.

And of course, I will try to blog about it all.

My 30th birthday

Was fabulous.

That's all I can really say.

My parents were here, my dear friend Jon and his fiancé Alix who live in Paris were here, our new-parent friends stuck their babies with the grandparents and had one of their first baby-free nights out, and so many more good friends joined me to celebrate turning 30.

We spent the evening at The Albion and ate suckling pig with the trimmings; the pig was stuffed with sausage which sounds wrong but was so so good.

The bar staff was nice enough to share the head with me, as it was, in fact, my birthday.

The Irishman surprised me by ordering a cake - chocolate, on chocolate, with layers of chocolate. Bless him. He even got a sparkler in the shape of "30".

And I had to make ANOTHER speech! But at least I had a large amount of wine to help.

The pub kicked us out around midnight, which was perfectly timed for those of us who didn't have to worry about last trains to head over to Club de Fromage for Boy Band Night. Nothing like dancing to Take That and NKOTB to finish off an amazing evening with friends and food. Honestly, I don't think that I can imagine a better way to celebrate a birthday. The evening was pretty much perfect and I wouldn't have changed anything about it.

Except maybe seeing that pig head. Ew.

An update way overdue - leaving my job

My half Catholic, half Jewish self is feeling really guilty for my lack of posting - especially after wanging on about my turning-30 anxieties and then dropping my bombshell about leaving my job. Now that the dust has cleared, I'm lying here on the sofa with an exhaustion-induced cold but finally with the time to properly give this blog and its followers some love.

When last I posted I had two weeks left of my 30-day notice period, and my [former!] company took full advantage of it. I was working 10, 12, 14 hour days until the Monday of my last week. That day I was at work until 10pm and came home to just break down emotionally, and I realized I had to disassociate myself with the work, the project, and the place and do it fast. Luckily, my replacement started that day so from Tuesday I began pulling myself away from decision-making and directing. Despite my efforts, I was there until 6:30pm on my last day - with my parents in the lobby waiting for me!

It was a bittersweet ending to my career at that company; while excited for my new role, I was genuinely sad to leave the company where I'd worked in two countries, knew people around the network of 20 offices, and essentially grew my career. In true English fashion, I was subjected to a speech about me and then I had to give my own speech before opening presents infront of 60 people. I astounded myself by not crying, though my voice did have a bit of a wobble. As I work in the design industry, it is customary to receive a personalised card - usually with your face Photoshopped in an unflattering way onto some sort of kitschy joke. But instead I was really touched to receive a sparkly pink box full of personalised shoes: someone created a template, and nearly everyone in the company designed me a shoe and wrote me a special message. It is exactly that sort of gesture that made me really honored to have worked with such a great group of people, and think OH GOD THIS IS REALLY SCARY. Not only was that company the place where I worked, but it was also a safety net of sorts for me - both in New York and London - and now I was leaving it for good.

But I didn't have time to dwell on such sentiments and fears because my 30th birthday celebration was taking place the next day. My parents had flown over from the US for the weekend, and met me at my office after their day of sightseeing. They joined me at the pub with my company for a few goodbye drinks (my proper leaving do was Thursday and a civilised evening that ended with me at the chippy at midnight) before we headed out for a curry. I was secretly happy to have my parents there as an excuse to leave early, because I knew if I stayed out drinking with everyone it would be more depressing than fun as I thought about what I was leaving behind.

Visiting time

Hi bloggerinis!

Lots is going on in Brillville, leaving little time for blog posts but the big news is that a lot of my favorite people are visiting me! I currently have one of them on my sofa sleeping til noon every day (lucky girl) and another will be arriving a week from today for work and staying the weekend. HURRAH!

The only problem is that due to January being The Month of Health, I'm not drinking. My mate and I went to the cocktail bar across the street and I had tea. Green tea. Sigh. But it's paying off... I've lost 8lbs already just by cutting out sugar, bread, alcohol and running on a much more regular basis. I'm back to being able to do 8k without dying and I just feel great: my skin glows again. Le sigh!

So hopefully more exciting news will be forthcoming soon (ie, when I am allowed back in the pub). Stay tuned! xx

What a week(end)

Oh, people.

This post took many forms in my head over the last 72 hours or so but only now am I finding some clear headspace to write it all down. Basically, the gist is that I've been bested by some Irish. Specifically, The Irishman's family.

Mum arrived on Tuesday for a few days of R&R and sightseeing. The Irishman took Tuesday and Wednesday off from work to hang out with her and I escaped from work after a half day on Tuesday to join them for lunch, a show (The Mousetrap) and rinkside mulled wine at Somerset House and dinner at Tom's Kitchen. Wednesday I had to work and met them after their action-packed day in Knightsbridge and Kensington (they roll posh) at Daphne's - a lovely restaurant that apparently was a favorite of Princess Di's.

Mum left Thursday afternoon, just missing her other son, The Irishman's brother, as he rocked up with The Irishman's cousin and a good friend of theirs Thursday evening for a lads weekend SLEEPING ON MY FLOOR. ALL OF THEM. I can report that my flat smelled like man for three days straight, I had to suffer about 1 million games of Guitar Hero and we went through probably 6 rolls of toilet paper. The Irishman and I both took Friday off from work to hang with the lads and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, but let me say that I am pooped. I ate dinner in a restaurant for 5 days straight which made me feel like I wanted to die with fullness twice. I took like a gazillion cab rides, which is so indulgent and SO expensive, and drank probably 10 gallons of wine (not all at the same time). Basically, I am a shell of my former self.

So today, finally, we got our flat back to ourselves. We did 3 loads of laundry, made some restoratively healthy soup, set up our Christmas tree (hurrah!) and basically just relaxed. I would now prefer to never eat again and potentially hibernate from this point forward. Too bad I have to do it all over again (!!!) in two weeks with the same folks in Ireland. God help me.

A hot and crazy summer

You know when life is just crazy, and there is so much going on that you want a vacation just so you don't have anyplace else to go? Yeah, that's me! This summer has been hot and heavy, with my weekends just as scheduled as my workdays. Last weekend my parents stopped by on their way to France, so Saturday evening the Irishman and I snuck in a quick date by going to ClerkFeast - an open air urban picnic that was part of the London Festival of Architecture. Held in an old, unused gas station, it was a big buffet of lovely food donated by restaurants like Hix Oysters, The Modern Pantry, and St John's. We drank English wine from Chapel Down, which was a revelation it was so good, and sat on blanket on the carport and watched the sun go down. It was magical.



And a good thing too because I then spent all day Sunday with my parents. Somehow I got a severe sunburn after sitting in my garden for all of an hour, which was unpleasant, but I was actually okay with it because it meant that I'm not dreaming the amazing summer we're having here. After a nice roast at The Albion, we went up on the London Eye, which I've never done and am pleased I did but I think once was enough for me. I had a bit of vertigo at the tippy top and every time the Irishman and my dad leaned over to look at something I got a bit freaked out. Amazing views though.



My parents left for France on Wednesday, so after meeting them on Monday and Tuesday nights I was happy to return to my yoga class. I haven't actually stretched like that in so long and I left on my bike resolving to renew my personal vow of making my Wednesday yoga class a priority. Speaking of bikes, I've been riding my new steed for a few weeks now. Meet Diana Ross!



Diana Ross was my friend Rose's bike. When she left London about two months ago to return to New Zealand, I took custody of her and have been getting to know her and her quirks. She is a true ladies bike, with a very low cross bar, so I don't have to throw my leg over the back and embarrass myself in a skirt. She only has 3 speeds - flat, little hill, big hill - and basically she's just really cute! I'm enjoying riding her around town.

I'm sitting here writing all of this with a lovely skinned knee and the remnants of hangover, thanks to this year's 2nd annual 4th of July kickball game (held a week late due to scheduling difficulties). It was violent match, much like the World Cup Final I've just been watching, and yet again the Colonies were creamed by the Commonwealth. I just don't get it. Anyway, I have to go get some first aid cream so I don't have yet another scar. At least the World Cup is over - I can't take this much sport. Especially when I lose!

Give a girl a BREAK!

Seriously, guys, I need a break. I have no clean underwear, I have no cotton balls with which to remove the chipping nail polish from my manicure, my eyebrows are looking caterpillary (after my post about English beauty habits, I'm not exactly holding up my own American standards), and I'm just really pooped. Even though I enjoyed and relaxed during the long Bank Holiday weekend that just passed, now I'm trying to get five long days of work done in four. I haven't seen the Irishman in a while, and next week his MOTHER is coming for a visit "just to hang out". Can someone just put life on pause, please?

I'm also recovering from having an American friend visit for the last week-and-a-half. While on the one hand it's awesome having people over from the homeland, it's quite another when the visitor conjures up a spectre of who you used to be and you have no time to reconcile it all. Friend J. came to stay for a while, and it was lovely to catch up with him and find out all of the gossip from home. But hearing all the news and spending time with him was also disconcerting; I didn't realize just how much I had built a life here, a new life separate from the one I had in the US, until I was confronted with the evidence of that old life in the form of my friend. It was really strange - almost like I had to bridge a gap to the past to relate to him. It's not an indictment on my friend, but more of a revelation for myself of just how much I've changed and grown up.

So while I enjoyed having J. visit, now I have so much to consider - when I find the time (and energy). I'll let you know what I come up with!

Friends & family

I was pleased to leave work last night at quarter to 7, rather than 11, and even more pleased that I was rushing out to meet the Irishman and my friend Matt for an Indian curry. Matt has been here since Friday; he is employed by the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City, and is here until Wednesday installing several pieces of art at the Tate Modern. While the Irishman headed north to Edinburgh for a stag weekend, on Saturday Matt and I headed down to Borough Market and stuffed our faces. We had both the raclette and the chorizo sandwich from Brindisa, which kept us happy as we then went over to Notting Hill. We finished up the day at my new local pub, The Drapers Arms, staying there until last call. I had such a relaxing day, and it was really refreshing to go back and revisit the touristy "must-sees" of Borough and Portobello Road. When you live someplace exciting like New York or London, you actually relish visits from out-of-towners so that you can go see things that the longer you live there the more you take for granted.

Two weekends ago my parents and grandmother were here; Mom-Mom is going to 82 next week and this was her first international trip! She was quite a trooper, keeping up with my parents who are professional tourists and take their touring very seriously. This visit the highlight was a trip to the Tower of London. I've always gone past the queues and crowds and scoffed at all of the Americans with their cameras waiting to go inside to see the Crown Jewels, but it is actually really cool and if any of you (Brit, Londoner, or otherwise) have never been I highly recommend it. Did you know that the Yeoman Warders (the Beefeaters) actually LIVE INSIDE? And the ravens are HUGE. And the Crown Jewels... holy crap, BLING. Worth it for £15 or however much each ticket cost.

I think the nicest part of my family's visit, though, was when the Irishman cooked Sunday roast for all of us. He takes a roast very seriously, and planned the menu for days and days in advance. The outcome was amazing, of course, and my parents added a bottle of organic red wine that they discovered when they were in Napa last fall. It was such a nice family gathering - too bad my brother couldn't been there - and the Irishman was extremely pleased with his efforts. The parents really loved his food, and I'm starting to suspect that they like him a lot more than me.

Americans vs Americans

Last night I was in Clapham, out on the town with some American friends who live south of the river. We were joined by some other American expats that they know, and at one point or another every single one of us said "Man, I hate Americans." We had a lively discussions about which tourists were worst (Germans seem to get a lot of votes), why Americans were so bloody loud, how embarrassing it was to be caught near them on the tube, and essentially "why are they so freaking annoying"?

It's a good question. There were five of us in the group, from all over the US - East Coast, West Coast, Midwest, Montana even. All in our late 20s/early 30s, liberal but just so, with family all over the US, we were all a bit overwhelmed by just how obnoxious Americans act when they leave the US. It makes one think, do we act like that at home, and no one notices because we're en masse, or do we just amplify it by having no social graces on our vacations in foreign lands?

The funny thing is, Americans are awesome. We don't take bs, we don't like waiting in lines, and if our Starbucks coffee is wrong we make the barista make it right. These are all virtuous qualities. But somehow, taken out of their natural environment, they grate on the ears and eyes of those accustomed to other cultures. Most tellingly, Western European cultures, while all different, don't grate on each other at all. Okay the English and the French love to hate one another, but sliding between Italy and France and France and Germany doesn't require that much in a mindset or behavior shift. Somehow the Atlantic Ocean divide gives Americans the freedom to say and do and behave how they like, and that's oh so apparent when they come east.

Thinking about it, I don't want Americans to change their ways. Our brash, opinionated, demanding selves make the US a pretty special place. But I would like to extend one little piece of advice to any American - especially groups of 13 year old girls liable to break out in song at any time - for goodness sake, TONE IT DOWN. English people will love you for it.

Tea at the Wolseley

No trip to London would be complete without experiencing a proper English tea service. I've lived here for nearly a year and haven't had the chance to go have one myself, so when my mom mentioned she wanted to go for tea I jumped at the opportunity.

We thought at first we would splurge and go to The Ritz, but they were fully booked for the week before Easter way back in February. So I settled on The Wolseley, with the thought that it would be a more accessible venue for the gents in my family. It was definitely a better choice, stylish, fancy, and traditional without being too stuffy or uncomfortable.

The tea service comes two ways - cream tea and afternoon tea. Cream tea is just tea and scones, whereas afternoon tea is tea and a selection of little sandwiches, scones, and pastries. Of course we piggy Americans went for afternoon tea and had two towers (a tower serves two people) on our table. It was a lovely spread of food, and definitely filling; the brother eats for two, sometimes three, and even he was stuffed towards the end. We even left two pastries which is unheard of in our family.

Afternoon tea at The Wolseley is pricey, but worth it in my opinion if you want an authentic English afternoon tea service but not feel like you have to wear a three-piece suit to do so. I will definitely go back (after I lose a stone and save my pennies).

Fuller's Brewery Tour

So after Edinburgh, my parents traveled on to York and I returned to London. They reached my fair city on Tuesday, and almost immediately upon entering the city I whisked them away to Chiswick to the Fuller's Brewery for a tour.

The brewery is pretty easy to get to from the tube, and we set off on a warm spring day. The family really lucked out with the weather - everything was in bloom and they loved seeing everyone out and about on the streets (unlike when it is raining). The brewery tour was quite extensive, and long at 1 hr 45 minutes. It costs £10 per person, and is worth every pence. We were taken through each stage of the brewing process by a veteran employee who answered all of our questions and obliged us by posing for photographs. We learned a lot of history about the area and the brewing process, and DK will be pleased to know I finally know what makes cask ale just so special.

The tour ended with a tasting, of course - 6 different ales plus a special edition ale they bottle once a year. I staggered out quite happy and with a renewed appreciation for my usual pint of London Pride.

Z Invasion

My family invaded the UK for a visit this week. They arrived a week ago, and will depart on Sunday. God save the Queen.

The Z family has never visited Great Britain, so they are on a tour that started in Edinburgh, stopped in York, and ended up in London with a brief day trip to Stratford-Upon-Avon and Oxford. I met them in Edinburgh last weekend for sight-seeing (post to follow) and have met them in the afternoons in London after their tour activities. Now they're all mine for the weekend, and we have plans to visit Greenwich, Notting Hill, and everything in between.

There will be various posts along the way of cool things we've done together. Enjoy!

First house guest: Emily!

The first house guest award goes to Emily, my friend from SU who is a graphic designer in San Francisco. The flat was her last stop on a whirlwind two-week tour of Ireland, Scotland, England, and Wales.

Emily and I did some damage at nearby cocktail bars Friday night, boutiques on Saturday, and dinner-in-the-dark on Saturday night. It was great to have a design person to check out the quirky home-goods shops with me, as I know not everyone enjoys looking at brightly colored molded plastic chairs and tea-towels with screenprints on them. Emily got an amazing pair of dangly crystal earrings, and consulted on the shoe-search for Le Dress, before returning to Mel's house to pack for her 14-hour flight back to SF. Bon voyage, Em, and come back soon! xxx

West End Girls

Sloane was here!!! My very first visitor!!!

I just spent a wonderful weekend hanging out with my New York friend in London. She stayed in a hotel in Earl's Court, so I found myself in the West End for most of the weekend. Sloane was here for another friend's wedding, so while she was busy with the wedding events, I was wandering around a part of town I remember (but not quite) from my previous visits to London.

Saturday I had lunch with Sloane, and when she left to get ready for the wedding, I walked up to Notting Hill and down Portobello Road through the market. I was a bit disappointed by the market - so touristy! so much crap! - but the produce vendors were great and there was extremely good people watching. Saturday night Ashley and I went to Leicester Square and saw the McDreamy chick-flick, which had lovely scenes of New York - SoHo, Central Park, the Village - that didn't make me cry! It was a big step for me to see a NYC-based movie and not burst into tears. So go me!

Sunday Sloane and I visited my new flat (22? days to go!) and conducted an anthropological study by eating at Pizza Express (it IS quite nice), before heading to Kensington to shop. We tried on tons of clothes and bought none, which is responsible shopping, and found a ton of scrumptious shoes that I could have eaten for dinner. We also checked out the Conran Shop, which is what I like to call furniture porn, and I flipped out over throw pillows embrodiered with the Eiffel Tower. Sloane lost it for some stacking red chairs. We ended the day with a traditional Sunday roast; picture above is at the "local" (the local pub, for you Americans) in Clerkenwell Green. Unfortunately, I only know the pubs close to my office so I always default to them.

Monday Sloane and I had a traditional English breakfast: 1 egg, 2 sausages, 1 slice of bacon (really a side of pork), toast, and a stewed tomato. Sloane added beans to hers. After a fun inspection of Boots and some silly picture taking of me with my umbrella blown inside out, Sloane had to leave and I was left to my own devices in the driving rain. I spent the afternoon wandering through the V&A, and then headed home to get dry.

This was one of my better weekends in London, mostly because I had a second familiar face to share it with. Sloane and I have such a great time together doing normal things like chatting, shopping, getting coffee, and we laugh a lot. It was really comforting to have a very normal New York weekend in my new home, and I am actually hopeful that I can continue to have these types of weekends with the new people that I meet here.