Holy Coo

Dress me in a kilt and feed me shortbread.  I LOVE Scotland!

I spent the weekend roaming the ancient streets of Edinburgh, and from the moment I arrived I was greeted with 85 degree sunshine, the melody of bagpipes, and friendly smiles from all the local kilt-wearers.

I had 48 hours to dive into the culture and explore every bit of the city I could. So I went from walking tour to walking tour seeing the sights and sampling the local cuisine. I did not partake in Haggis-eating or Whiskey-drinking, but I did try many of the other local Scottish specialties - like Scottish Smoked Salmon, Scottish Shortbread, "Chips", and my personal favorite - tablet.

What is tablet, you ask?
Well - in the words of the Scottie who explained it to me when I asked, "It's basically a wee bit of heaven."

Tablet's a ridiculously sugary confection. It's like toffee, but not chewy, and it's like fudge, but more grainy. When I tasted it, it reminded me of when I was little and would eat sugar cubes straight from that bowl that accompanied the tea my ordered in fancy restaurants. And that's not actually far off - since tablet has three ingredients - butter, sugar, milk. It looks like this -

After discovering tablet I knew I was going to like Scotland.
Aside from Scottish food, my second favorite thing about Scotland are the Scottish Cows, known by the locals as "coo." This gave me the brilliant beyond brilliant idea to start using the expression "holy coo!"

Cute Coo!

The coo graze up in the Highlands, eating grass and cooing around all day. I think they are adorable.
Sadly, I did not get to go to the Highlands so I did not get to see one up close, but if you take Highlands tour you can actually pet and feed a coo! As you can imagine, I will be planning a trip back to Scotland to do this before I leave. I actually wish I could move to Scotland for the remainder of my UK life and get a pet coo. I would name him something very Scottish like Farquar McDougal and feed him a diet of tablet.

I love things that sound stereotypical to wherever they are. This is probably why I decided to stay at The Haggis Hostel. It was also the only place in the city centre I could find under £300/night on such late notice. I was really worried about staying in a hostel after the diasterous night I spent, terrified, in one in Florence after my blue-haired roomate yelled at me for turning the lights on when I came in.

I was not nearly as nervous as my mother was about it all though. When I told her I was staying in a hostel she mildly freaked out. I thought I had done a good job of ensuring her it was safe and normal and looked relatively clean online but I think her worry level only increased as the day went on because I received a call later that day....

"Ann - I was thinking. You have to keep your money hidden when you're in that hostel in case someone steals everything from you while you are sleeping. You should keep it hidden on your person actually - like, in your underwear! Oh wait... you don't wear underwear. You'll have to think of somewhere else"

.......?!

Why my mothers thinks I don't wear underwear, and furthermore - why she is okay with it, I have no idea. I assured her that were lockers in the hostel that I could lock everything up in before going to bed so the only thing someone could steal from me is my pajamas. I also assured her that I do, in fact, where underwear, but I thought that using underwear as a storage facility was slightly un-hygienic.

Any coo, I made it through the night alive and un-robbed. I think it's a right of passage these days to travel Europe alone and stay in a hostel - and I'm proud to say I've done it now successfully.

Since I was alone and in a new place, I decided to take a few walking tours to learn about the city.
One was a Harry Potter themed tour of Edinburgh visiting all the sights that inspired JK and places she sat writing and sipping coffee. My guide was a grown Englishmen wearing wizard robes. He had a wand of course, and he gave us all wands to collectively point at traffic lights at the crosswalks and shout "Lumos!" while we waited for the walk sign.

The second was a historical guided tour of the city with a local Scottie dressed in normal clothes that covered the history of Scotland and it's most famous and infamous residents.

Guess which I liked better?

I'm just kidding - the historical tour was awesome and fascinating. I just had a hard time understanding what in the world the guide was saying sometimes. Like,

"Guid mornin, nice tae meit ye! Whaur ar ye fae?"

Which is, "good morning, nice to meet you. Where are you from?"
But you really need a translator to figure it out. I worry that my version of the history of Edinburgh and it's residence is not entirely correct due to words I may have misunderstood.

I did learn one thing for sure. If you were around in the olden days of Scotland - your life ended one of two ways..

1 - Do something great for the country, declared famous and have a pub named after you.
2 - Do something bad for the country, declared a traitor, and be publicly hung, drawn, and quartered.

You could also be prisoner of war. They got to live in the castle and were fed bread, cheese, and beer to drink because the water wasn't safe. They had to be kept safe and healthy to trade with other POWs, so I think a POW could actually have been the best option for most.

My tours took me through every corner and crevice of the city, and after walking around the entire day, I finally sat down in the Elephant House, the famous cafe where JK penned Harry Potter, and had some dinner while I did a little writing of my own. It was a completely glorious day and by the time I got back to the scary hostel I was so tired that I passed out before I could have an internal panic attack.

Sunday I headed straight to the castle to see the views, the crown jewels, and the stone of destiny.
My highlight of the castle was being led around on a guiding tour by a man wearing a kilt, and getting Shortbread for breakfast.

Scottish Shortbread is soooo guid!

From the castle, I walked down the Royal Mile to Hollyrood Palace and park, where I decided to hike to the top of Arthur's Seat, a 251m tall inactive volcano hill. I decided to do this despite the fact that I was wearing jeggings and patent leather oxfords, while all the other hikers were in full on hiking gear - but I wasn't going to let that stop me.

I wish I'd known about his dumb seat beforehand so I could have brought tennis shoes. But I was trying to pack light so I only brought 1 pair of shoes on a trip for the first time in my personal history. Lesson learned.

It definitely made things more interesting - but the payoff was worth it when I got the most incredible view of beautiful Edinburgh. I also burned off my shortbread breakfast.

Holy coo!

After my hike, I passed out in the hills for a few hours and soaked up the Edinburgh sunshine before I had to head back to the train station to return to London. I was joined by early everyone in the city. Apparently it was some of the nicest weather on record ever for Scotland - so everyone was out picnicking and laying out, which meant the city was full of Scots that were white as ghosts from the back, and bright pink from the front. The poor things do not tan, they just turn into scottish smoked salmon.

It was the perfect weekend escape. There honestly wasn't a thing about Scotland I didn't like, and my old regret is not buying a kilt.

My lovely weekend really made me determined to see the rest of the United Kingdom - so Wales and Northern Ireland are up next. Afterall, I can't leave here without trying Welsh cakes and Baileys Cream Pie!

Exploring My Subconscious

HOLY WOW AND COW! THE SUN IS SHINING!

I wanted to make the most of this rare treat, so this morning I was up at 6am heading to - you guessed it - hardcore Barrecore. Today in class I got a "beautiful work Anna" three different times. Woo hoo!

I am officially obsessed, and based on my history of previous obsessions, I have to say that they don't ever go away. I think this obsession is improving my life in all areas: I have more energy, I wake up early now, I am eating better, sleeping better, even walking straighter! Although today I am a bit hunch-backed. I think 28 straight classes may have taken their toll on my lower back. I am in quite a lot of pain, but with only 3 days left in my unlimited month I can't stop now!

The thought of this all being over is really depressing, since I absolutely love it and have made Barrefriends. When I stop showing up, they are going to think I deported. If only I could get deported...

I realized in the other day in class that I am one of the few girls in the room not sporting an obnoxiously large rock on her right finger. The changing room is full of Fendi handbags and Tory Burch flats. My Barrefriends will have no problem continuing their bends and stretches with no thought to the £28 price tag per class, while I am kicked out on the street.

I've contemplated selling a kidney or possibly a couple feet of my Rapunzel hair in order to afford another month of classes. My hair officially comes to my belly button now when it's straight! I'm not sure how this happened, but I think my obsession with the Disney movie Tangled is subconsciously to blame.

It's always been my dream to be one of the Princesses at Disney World. I can't imagine how that could be anything but the best job ever! Spending all day dressed as a princess signing autographs for adorable children with mouse-earred pens....sounds like a fairytale to me.

I once said I wanted to live in London - and look where I am! I found a way to make it happen.
So perhaps I will visit the tower of London this weekend and find a window to stick my hair out of, snap a photo and send it along with my resume to Mickey.

I'll just have to sort out this hunch-back problem first though, otherwise the only character I will be considered for is Quasimodo.

Just give him long blonde hair...

 Speaking of Notre Dame -  I am craving Paris. And crepes! I need to Eurostar myself over there for a a rendez-vous with the Eiffel Tower once my weekends are no longer devoted to painful workouts.

I actually have quite a bit of London discovering to do yet as well. If the rain would ever stop, I might be able to start checking things off the list. Today it was shockingly sunny when I woke up, so as soon as I got to the office I immediately began plotting my escape.

A certain client of mine conveniently located in Notting Hill was in need of a sample and so I decided to pick up a big box of double chocolate cookies and personally deliver the sample to him with a sweet surprise. I really pride myself on my customer service on sunny days. Had it been raining, I would have told the old chap to come get it himself if it wants it so bad. But instead I put on my sunnies and a smile and enjoyed the scenic ride to Holland Park.

After chatting for awhile, I spent my lunch break meandering through the candy-colored-house-lined streets of Notting Hill and wishing I lived there. If I wasn't so chummy with my flatmates I would consider moving for the rest of my stay here - but I like them all too much to leave them. Living in that house is like the college experience I never had because I went to school in New York. Ever since I saw Legally Blonde, I was obsessed with the idea of being a Delta Nu, so I think subconsciously,  I am living with 4 other girls in a decrepit but cute house because it sort of feels like a sorority.

But, if I was going to move - Notting Hill is the ultimate neighborhood. I grabbed a Slim Salmon Sushi box at Itsu for lunch and then treated myself to a mini fro yo that I enjoyed as I wandered in and out of the cute shops on Portobello Road. It's so fun to be out in the world on a weekday afternoon, it feels sneaky and wonderful and reminds me of my old life of freedom.

Thankfully, I have a ten day holiday coming up in 2 weeks! My exotic location of choice....
OHIO!

Home sweet Ohio. I really mean it when I say that I love going home to Ohio.
My parents, my dogs, my friends, my room with all my old memories. When I'm back there I feel like a kid again.

Perhaps my most serious obsession to date was with the Wizard of Oz, as a child. I
I think that is the reason for my subconscious affinity for small brown dogs and ruby red stilettos, and perhaps also the reason that I have always felt like there is really is "no place like home." 

Better Than A Birkin

May is really proving to be a much better month here than April.
The grey skies are finally clearing, fun activities are appearing, and after 6 month of life here - I actually have friends. Most of them are American which pleases me just fine - and I think things are serious enough to give them names (or code names, for the sake of their priv-acy).

This was the first weekend in a long time that I spent the entire weekend with others as opposed to alone. I almost had forgotten what that was like.

I also realized I was getting around London without the map app for the first time. I'm really learning my way around this rainy place - which is quite an achievement I feel.

After a literally crap week, I decided the weekend was going to need to be really superb to keep me from boxing up my room, quitting my job, and getting on the next flight to New York.

So Friday night was Fiesta night!
A fellow American friend, Shanna and I decided to celebrate Cinqo de Mayo a week late by attending Happy Hour at a "Mexican" joint in Convent Garden. I say Mexican with quotations because when steak frites is on the menu just under the tacos, it's not exactly authentic. I was, however, impressed with the quality of the margaritas and my burrito - even though there was cauliflower in it.

We recruited some of our American-enthuiasts friends to join in the celebration.
Like our friend Jonathan, who just got back from a 3 week holiday in the US driving down Highway 1 in a red convertable. He also made it over to Vegas, to a baseball game, and daily trips to Pinkberry. He came back shouting from the rooftops that we have the best country in the world.

2 Americans, 2 Brits, 2 pitchers of margaritas. Things got silly.
I've found it is impossible for an american and a british person to have a conversation for more than 5 minutes without someone cocking their head in confusion and asking, "what did you just say?"

Whether you're talking politics, weather, food, traveling- there are just so many things that don't add up to make it through without demanding clarity.
I've also confirmed that as amusing as I find them and their interpretation of the english language - they find me and my "American accent" even moreso.

I came out of Friday night with 4 new things to add to my British/American diction-ry, and a hangover.

dressing gown - men, not just women, refer to their bathrobe as their dressing gown. And they see nothing strange or comical about it.

plaster - for reasons completely unbeknown to me, this is what they call a band-aid.

the splits - although this sounds like either a dancemove from the 1950s, or a rare disease, "the splits" refers to the split stretch - you know, that ballerinas do. They are addressed together, and to be able to do the splits is considered quite an achievement.

full stop - a full stop is a period. Like the mark (.) Apparently if you say period in this country it only refers to the female cycle - and people will think you are both completely mad and inappropriate for saying it aloud. Period.

Saturday was my weekly Exhibit visit.
After Barrecore I headed out Burlington Gardens to the Hermès: Leather Forever Exhibit. 

After lusting over Louboutin's last week, I thought moving from shoes to handbags made logical sense. If only Phillip Teacy had an exhibit I could go to next week...

Now of course I adore Hermès because they are Parisian.
But I always sort of dismissed them, thinking there is no point in my life where I will ever be able or willing to drop $10k on a Birkin or a Kelly. But after seeing this exhibit, I think anything Hermès is #1 on my dream list. A keychain perhaps? A scrap of leftover leather? I think I'd even be willing to pay for their signature Orange box.

The exhibit began with a large room full of crayola-colored hides hanging from the walls, draped over chairs, and covering tables, and neon colored ostrich and alligator hides in the corner - it was like a bizarro graveyard of animals.

After that was room after room of enviable arm candy! But better than seeing the rows of Kelly bags, was watching a graduate of the Hermès Academy saddle stitching one up in front of your eyes as she explained every step and answered questions.

The things I learned were mind-blowing!
Each bag is entirely hand-made and sewn by 1 person. They are the only person allowed to touch that bag from start to finish, and it is stamped with their personal ID when they are finished. A bag usually takes about 2-3 full days of work to make, depending on the complexity. The Kelly is the most complex - and simply learning how to make one at the Hermès Academy takes a full 11 months. Holy wow - right?
But my favorite fact is that a Hermès bag can only be made in Paris, bien sur.

So yes, the price tag on these works of art may be exorbitant, but given the craftsmanship, and the quality, and the fact that they are entirely French - I really think they're worth it. I mean, what is better than a Birkin?

Pics were illegal - but I managed to snap a few.

Lovely leathers and Kelly handle construction

Hermès began in Parisin the 1800s outfitting horses

That's one big bag

Experts at work

The best bit about this exhibit however, is the price tag: Completement Gratuit!
Maybe they hoped the savings would encourage people to buy something at the exhibits "gift shop" over on Bond Street....

Sunday was yet another lazy Sunday...
Woke up in the late afternoon. 
Called my friend Kris, just to see how she's doin'. 
Hello, what up Kris?
Yo Anna, what's crackin? 
You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?
BARRECORE?!
Man, it's happenin'

Sorry.  I couldn't resist a Lonely Island Parody. I spent too many hours at Saturday Night Live.

I did wake up in the late afternoon though - and we did go to Barrecore.
20th class in a row. If you're wondering - I now have muscles. Small, barely visible muscles - but muscles none the less. I can do press ups - and hold a plank without my whole body shaking.

After class we went for superfood salads and a leisurely walk through Brompton Cemetery with Kris's Yorkie named Herbie - who is possibly the cutest thing in the world.

Brompton Cemetery is home to the tombs of many old Englishmen, including Peter Rabbett, Jeremiah Fisher, Mr Nutkins, Mr Brock, and Mr McGregor.

Sound vaguely familiar to any Beatrix Potter fans out there? Miss Potter lived near the cemetery from 1863 to 1913, and rumor has it these tombstones were the source of the names of her characters. A bit macabre, but interesting.

I eventually made it over to South Kensington where I grabbed dinner at Le Comptoir with some friends from HTB after hearing Judah Smith put a whole new spin on the story of Zacchaeus. Judah is an American (yay!) pastor from City Church in Seattle and brought the church down with his sermon.

Even though I realized several of the best references went right over the heads of the colored-trouser-wearing guys around me, everyone was loving him - and I had great fun explaining some of the jokes to my Brit friends afterwards over Baba Ganoush and grilled Haloumi.

So on that note - are you ready for things to get really cheesy?
Because I have to say - that sitting at the table outside on a semi-warm evening by English standards, laughing with a group of people I can now safely call friends and arguing over the correct pronunciation of "pita," I finally felt like I have a life here.

And after 6 months, to finally have that feeling - well that may just be better than a Birkin.

Sole Searching at the Design Museum

What better way to spend two days of absolute crap weather than visiting two amazing exhibits in London?

Possibly doing Barrecore - but I did that too - of course.

Saturday evening I left rainy London for an hour and entered a dream world.
The Design Museum of London currently has a Christian Louboutin exhibit, that features highlights of the past 20 years of his genius - and by that I mean his shoes. His amazing, AH-MAZING, shoes!

I've seen many an awesome exhibit - but never one that more perfectly captured the essence of the artist than this did. It brought the Follies Berger, the glam of haute couture, and the je ne sais quoi of Paris together into a few, plush, velvet covered, rooms.

In the main room, 5" Stilettos lined a long, shiny, red stage like showgirls, elaborated dressed in plumage, swarokskis, silk bows and chiffon flowers.

In another room, drool-worthy pairs swung from individual tufted swings hanging off a old-fashioned carousel. In yet another they were perched high on stands under a perfectly manicured ivy hedge that seemed to have popped off a page of Alice and Wonderful.

Of all the jaw-dropping masterpieces in the room, the star of the show in my opinion was the prima ballerina of course...

8" Ballet Shoes created for the English National Ballet

These take my ballerina fantasy to a whole different level.

Christian was born and raised in Paris - supporting my theory that all the best things in life come from France.

He started off at the Follies Berger drawing up designs for showgirls, moved on to freelancing for several top designers, and eventually got Princess Caroline of Monaco on his side and rest is history. He changed stilettos as we know them, and whether you care about fashion or not - it in undeniable that he is a visionary, that he is an artist, and that he is a genius.

Here are some highlights from the exhibit...

The Design Museum quickly became of my favorite Museums in London. Not only did it win me over with this sole-shaking exhibit, but upstairs was a "Best Designs of 2012" exhibit, that featured everything from the Autolib to Kate Middelton's wedding dress.

 It was awesome, and such an amazing look at what we are capable of in this day and age, showcasing the most innovative and progressive designs from around the world in Architecture, Digital, Fashion, Furniture, Graphics, Product and Transport.

The 2012 Olympic Torch was the official winner of the best design, and it was quite cool to see it on display. One of the perks of being in the city hosting the Olympics. Possibly the only perk...

The red-soled masterpieces and designs of the year will be at the Design Museum until the first week of July, so get your fashionable self out there if you're in the neighborhood!

Sunday I shifted gears, and went to learn about and admire a totally different kind of genius: Picasso.
The Tate Britain currently has an exhibit featuring good old Pablo and his impact on Modern British Art.

The exhibit includes some of Picasso's most important works, alongside canvases from his English admirer's: Duncan Grant, Wyndham Lewis, Ben Nicholson, Henry Moore, Francis Bacon, Graham Sutherland and David Hockney.

If you caught the Hockney exhibit at the Royal Academy of Art earlier this year, "A Bigger Picture" as I did, you would get all the more pleasure out of seeing how Picasso influenced his early work, and the work of Britain's top modern artists.

My favorite thing I learned was that Picasso lived in London for year, buddying up to Diaghilev and designing costumes for the Ballet Russe. He also married a ballerina! He designed these for the ballet "The Three Cornered Hat," and in addition to his sketches, they featured two of the actual costumes.

Here's some other eye-candy for those of you who won't make it overseas to see it for yourselves!
I particularly love his the way Picasso painted his (many, many, many) women.

"The Three Dancers" 1925

Alas, this is not a woman, but a violin, fruit, and some vino. I imagine this was his broken heart kit for in between lovers. He could play himself a somber tune while he sipped himself into drunkeness.

"Fruit Dish, Bottle and Violin" 1914

It was just simply - magnifique. Both exhibitions were. 

So despite the complete crap weather, I had a really wonderful weekend. A much needed wonderful weekend here actually, filled with beauty, and culture, and learning. So although I have been recently feeling so uncomfortable with my life here, and wondering where my common sense was when I decided to leave everything and everyone who mattered to me and move to the land of rain - this weekend I felt very lucky to be in London. 

So I'm ending this blog with two quotes, one from Loubi and another from Picasso. Turns out, these two might just have more in common than I thought... 

"I hate the whole concept of comfort! It's like when people say, 'Well, we're not really in love, but we're in a comfortable relationship.' You're abandoning a lot of ideas when you are too into comfort. 'Comfy'—that's one of the worst words!" - Christian Louboutin

“The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.” - Pablo Picassco

Happy May Day!

Happy May Day!

May Day is a real holiday, if you were wondering. It's an old pagan holiday celebrating spring and fertility and flowers and different European countries all have put their own twist on it.

England celebrates by giving us a day off work! Next Monday is the May Bank Holiday - to which I say - hooray!

I learned from Wikipedia that the May Day bank holiday was created in 1978 and celebrated every year since until February 2011, when the UK Parliament was reported to be considering scrapping the bank holiday associated with May Day, and replacing it with a bank holiday in October to co-incide with Trafalgar Day, and creating "United Kingdom Day".

Oh, if only there was such a thing. I can only imagine the UK Day celebration supplies that would be available.

I was eager to celebrate May Day for a couple reasons.

The first being - May marks 6 months of life in London. I am half way through - over the hill. And thank bloody goodness I am! London's jolly good and all, but I miss New York and everyone in it - SO much. And John's Pizzeria. The pizza here is so weird. It could be one of London's biggest flaws.

The second being - May 1 marks the end of April, and hopefully the end of April Showers! I have never been so glad to see a month end.  Not only did April bring showers of freezing rain - but it also brought showers of the most unpleasant clients into my life. Everyday at the office was a struggle to keep calm and carry on! I have been a college graduate for a year now, which is crazy, and I must say I like the working world even less than I thought I would.

Offices, meetings, clients, hours.....who came up with this system? It really was a horrible idea.
I've always considered myself a people person, so I naturally assumed I would enjoy working with people. But Wrong-O. People are nuts!

If I could go back in time, I would go become a Vet. Then instead of dealing with mean human clients, I would have cuddly puppy clients. Oh, if only....

The final reason I enjoyed celebrating May Day is - May is the beginning of Summer! Summer = warm weather. Not here in the land of rain of course, but elsewhere. Like in Venice, St. Tropez, Greece, Istanbul, Marrakech - and I have some big travel plans for the next 6 months! Get your passports ready!

April did end on a good note, which is always a good thing. I closed two big projects, and then celebrated by making my mom's mac n' cheese for my co-worker and her English lad at their flat.

This was the first time I have properly cooked anything since I moved here. I am aware of how sad that is - but mind you cooking for 1 is difficult, and the kitchen in my flat is a disaster, and M&S has all these cheap, relatively healthy and tasty, perfectly portioned meals that heat in minutes that I live off of.

It was really nice to eat something home-cooked! And extremely cheesy.

I went to find sharp cheddar and swiss - the mix I prefer for my mac, and of course could not.
So, there in cheese aisle, I was faced the dilemma of figuring out which mix of cheeses to try that would get on well together.

I went with a mature british cheddar which I have tried and liked, an emmental which is what is in crepes so I knew I couldn't go wrong there, and then a double gloucester  - which I had no idea what it would be, aside from the packet description of strong and savory.  I mixed, melted, baked, and hoped for the best!

30 minutes later, tt looked out incredible.
And after a month of dieting, it tasted even more incredible!

A Cheesy Dream-Come-True

It's success inspired me to start cooking more. So, tonight after Barrecore I "cooked" a spinach and broccoli salad to try to reverse the damage done by the noodles above, and watched "Will and Kate: The First Year" on the tv with my flatmates.

It re-caped their first royal year of marriage, highlighting Kate's greatest fashion moments, their bonding with the Obamas, and of course - the gossip and rumors surrounding the royal lovebirds.

Just a year ago, Kate signed her life away to be a princess - and I signed my life away to be a working woman. Kate seems to be still in the honeymoon stage - with the tiaras and trips, royal appearances, balls,  and charity visits.


Me - I'm considering divorce.