"The internet doesn't even know who you are anymore."

So, apparently I haven't posted since April 26. And by "apparently", I mean "in cold hard fact".


In all fairness, since April 26, all I've done is work. That's it. I've come reasonably close to a nervous breakdown. I've gone out, like, twice. Maybe three times. I can barely remember what my friends look like. I've hardly written for Londonist. It's been very exhausting.


But, I've just had a week of holiday and I'm feeling much better now. I'm even making plans to see people! It's crazy, I know.

I've had a super veg-out holiday, which has been fab. I've basically read, watched episodes of Felicity and slept. I've also seen a few people, but it's mainly been about the chillaxing.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Felicity? Because, I really, really do. I've watched the whole first season over the last week, and it's been delighftul. I'd forgotten how much I liked that show. And I had this super clear memory of sitting with Mandy in a movie theatre in Mississauga after the season one finale, telling her all about it and telling her that she should watch it. And, I was totally right. Because it's such a good show.

It's also made me very nostalgic for my first year of university, which was TWELVE YEARS AGO. Holy crap, I'm old. In September 1996, I went to York and met all these amazing (and not so amazing) people. Some of them I'm still friends with, some of them I'm not. A few of them, I look back at photos and I can't even remember their names. Good times, I tell you!

Holy crap. Twelve years. Shouldn't I feel like more of a grown up by now?

Wow, remember when I had a blog?

Yeah, so sorry for not actually updating this in ages. Whoops!

I've been doing a fair bit of writing for Londonist, and working like crazy. And yes, that's it. It seems that I went on holiday, but I can hardly remember that now, it seems so long ago.

But wait! How better to remember it than with pictures?



Oh, you'd be laughing too if you were having super good times with Alice.




I got to hang out at a gorgeous cottage, with a gorgeous baby...



and his equally gorgeous mommy. And you're crazy if you think we didn't have fabulous meals, delicious frosty cool beverages and many, many laughs.

Because we did.

And then I spent a week in Toronto...




and got to visit with these fun people, who I don't get to see often, but who I have known for a very, very long time. (Holy crap, I just realized I've known Wendy for 20 years. Madness!)




And I also saw these fun (and classy!) people, amongst many others.

It was a great trip, and I had a fantastic time. And although I've only been back for three weeks, I totally feel ready for another holdiay. I'm ill and stressed and tired. Sigh.

But at least I still have holiday time! Thank god for the UK, and their 20 holiday days per year. I don't know what I'd do with only 10.

Sometimes, photos speak for themselves....

Being back from holiday is always a letdown

I highly recommend a skiing holiday in which you don't do any skiing. I'm telling you, that's some good fun. Try not to get a cold though - that can be a bit of a downer.

Meribel is just beautiful. It's about a 3 hour drive from the Geneva airport, in the French alps. A fair bit of that drive was going up the mountain. Turns out? Mountains are tall.

There were 11 of us in the chalet, which really does sound like a lot, but it wasn't too crowded. We did need to have a kids table at dinner though, since you couldn't fit all of us around the dining table. But the kids table isn't too bad when you have copious amounts of wine and get to be in charge of various iPods of awesome.

It snowed the day we arrived, so it was all snowy and gorgeous, and really looked just like a French ski resort should.

Seriously. How pretty is this?

You can try and tell me it's not gorgeous, and I will ignore you, because you will be lying.

It really was such a relaxing trip. Lots of beer, card games - well one card game, Asshole, which really is the best game ever - good food, more beer, wine, more wine, skiing and snowboarding (only not for me), still more wine and much hilarity.

We also formed the world's best pub quiz team, comprising me, Jo, Sam, Leanne, Ivan and Mel (also known as the Girl Team. Sorry guys.) We seriously kicked so much ass. 38 out of 50 questions right, and the next best team only got 25. We are geniuses!! And also good looking. This is a team of victory, I tell you.

We had our winning jug of beer stolen by a team that couldn't handle our superiority, but which shall remain nameless.

Nameless, but I will post a photo. That beer they're drinking? Stolen. Poor losers, I say. Intimidated by our awesomeness.

It was such a fun trip. And it's really so beautiful there.

Being back at work is a bit sad now. Especially since I still have a cold.

I'd rather be back here.

Holiday Reading

In a mere 10 days, I will be on a plane to France. I know! Isn't that exciting? I'm going to Meribel on a skiing trip with a big group of friends.

Well, actually, it's more of a "skiing" trip for me, as I will not be skiing. I may do one day of it, but it's not really my thing.

"But Alice," I hear you say, "what ever will you do with your time then?"

Oh, there's a plan.

Imagine if you will: a chalet in Meribel. Outside, the snow, she is blowing. Inside, the fire, she is roaring. The hot chocolate, she is delicious and chocolatey. Alice, she is lounging on a couch reading a book.

After a day of delicious reading, Alice's friends return from the slopes, they have dinner and then go out and have lots of drinking and dancing fun.

Seriously, it's like the best holiday ever.

I'm currently putting together my reading list for the holiday. I figure it's seven days, so ten books feels about right to me.

Any suggestions? What do you think I need to read?

B'bye, Christmas.

Christmas Trees, originally uploaded by alice's dark place.

You really know Christmas is over when you see the pile of discarded trees waiting for the garbage men to take them away.

Or the tree removal men. Or whoever actually deals with Christmas trees. I don't actually know.

What I do know is that there were four of them waiting as I left for work today. Ours is the one on the far right.

B'bye Christmas tree.

We had some good times, didn't we? Sorry about Lucy repeatedly hurling herself at you from assorted couches, chairs and sideboards. And sorry that you had to be naked on your bottom third because of over excited kittens and their ornament removal. We still think you looked nice.

You were a good tree. Well done. Best of luck in all your future endeavours.

Merry New Year!

I've been shocking lax with the posting in December, but there is enough time in my holiday travelling madness (current location: Toronto) to wish all y'all a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Hope your holidays were delightful!

Best! Trip! Ever!

I wasn't going to write about it, because I thought it would jinx it, but since Heather spilled the beans, I guess I can tell y'all.

Guys, we are planning the BEST TRIP EVER.

Picture it: June 2008. Three sassy Canadian girls living in London and one as-yet-unnamed but sure to be equally sassy other girl fly from London to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Upon arrival, they hire a vehicle, as you would for almost any trip.

Do they hire a sensible compact car? A sporty convertible? A huge-ass SUV?

Oh, no. They hire possibly the coolest vehicle ever.

A recreational vehicle. That's right. A Winnebago. (And yes, I am aware that "Winnebago" is a brand name, but it just sounds cooler than "RV")

They then, over the course of the next three weeks, drive this kick ass vehicle across the whole of Canada, excluding Newfoundland and the territories. Territories are for suckers. I have no problem with Newfoundland, it's just inconveniently located.

Because I am a huge geek, as soon as Heather and I first discussed this, I worked up a tentative route that would get us across the country, from Halifax to Vancouver, in 21 days with rest stops in all the places we're from - Toronto, Winnipeg and Edmonton. And then I looked up the mileage, converted it from miles to kilometers, made an Excel spreadsheet, formatted it nicely and printed it off. Dude. I told you - huge geek.

We'd be looking at a total of over 7,150 kilometers (actually 7,159.7 by my reckoning) over the three weeks. In a Winnebago! How awesome is that?

I've always wanted to do this trip. And, as those of you who have heard me rave about the coolness of Winnebagos in the past will know, it only makes the dream better to do it in an RV. Think how much tacky souvenir crap I can buy! Bliss!

Because we are poor, it's going to take us some time to save up the money, hence the 2008 thing. But that just means more time for planning! How awesome!

I can't wait two years! I want to go now!

Welcome to Barcelona!

What's that you say? You'd like to see photos from my trip to Barcelona? Really?

That's so sweet.

Okay, here you go!

And sadly, no. There are no photos of the fashion avenged. I'll do better next time.

Amusing Stories from My Recent Canadian Visit, Part 2

I went out for dinner with an old friend from back in the day while I was in Toronto. Not that she's old. She's my age. We've just known each other since we were 10, which is definitely the longest I've known anyone that I'm still in touch with, not counting family and/or family friends.

Anyway, I haven't seen her in ages, and we met up for dinner and drinks at this really nice restaurant in the Annex which I will not name due to the incriminating story I am about to relate.

She got to the restaurant first, and was waiting when I turned up. (I wasn't late, just to clarify. I got there mere moments after she did.) We were eating at a cute little restaurant, and there was only one other table of customers when I got there. As I was about to sit down, the waiter (and possibly owner) swooped over to take my coat. We took the bold move of ordering a half litre of wine - red, not white, as I no longer drink white post "The Incident", which we no longer speak about so I don't know what you're talking about.

Waiter/owner man left us alone with our menus and wine for a while, and there was much catching up and amusing banter of the "my mom saw your grandmother at the airport" and "hey do you know what so-and-so is up to?" and "your little brother has a beard??" variety.

We'd pretty much decided on food when waiter/owner man swooped to the table again. He was a swooping kind of guy. The other table had left by this point, so we were the only customers in the place. We ordered our main courses (I ordered the paella) and smiled politely.

Waiter/owner man: No appetizers for you ladies? You must have the appetizers!

Us: Thanks no, we're thinking we'll get dessert instead.

Waiter/owner man: The desserts are disgusting.

Now, this caused us a moment of confusion. You've got to understand that he said this with absolutely no humour or sarcasm in his voice. It was a total deadpan "The desserts are disgusting." Needless to say, we weren't sure quite what he meant by this. Were the desserts actually disgusting? Was he kidding? Were they so good they were disgustingly good? What did he mean?

After an awkward pause, we decided that he was kidding and laughed awkwardly. He chortled to himself and swooped away.

We exchanged a look of "well, that was weird" and continued the catching up and amusing banter. Much merriment was had.

The food arrived and the waiter/owner man insisted on introducing himself and learning our names. Um, okay. Sure, why not? It's a friendly place, right? That's nothing to think is weird.

The food was really nice, and when we were done, we did indeed feel in the mood for desserts, assuming they weren't disgusting. Once again, waiter/owner man swooped to our table.

Waiter/owner man: You're finished! How was the meal?

Us: Delightful, thanks. What desserts do you have?

Waiter/owner man: Oh, they're disgusting. We have an awful chocolate cake, it's very rich. We've got a disgusting lemon tart, it's horrible. Our rice pudding is absolutely repulsive. The apple pie with ice cream is sickening, and our house speciality is the cheesecake, which is nauseating.

Us: [confused pause]

Waiter/owner man: [smiling in anticipation of our disgusting order]

Us: [confused look exchanged] Uh, I guess the chocolate cake please?

Waiter/owner man: [grinning] You'll love it. It's disgusting.

So, he clearly meant disgusting in the "disgustingly good" sense, but that so was not clear when he was describing the desserts. What is up with that? How is belittling your food and calling it gross a good selling technique?

From now on, I will be using this terminology at every opportunity.

"And your haircut is finished. What do you think?" Disgusting.
"Congratulations! You've won a million pounds!" Disgusting!
"And how do you take your coffee?" Disgusting?

And for the record, the cake was pretty good.

Amusing Stories from My Recent Canadian Visit, Part 1

The day after I flew into Toronto, a friend of mine had his thirtieth birthday party. The timing, was she not excellent? It was at a bar/restaurant type place in Toronto called Alleycatz. Note the super cool "z". This is no ordinary bar, my friend.

Actually, it was really nice. There were about 20 of us for dinner, and the bar bit had a band playing and they were really good. The food was excellent, the drinks were plentiful, Sean got some great gifts, there was cake and party favours. An excellent night, wouldn't you say? But what could make this night better? What could add some hilarity to this night?

That's right. The fakest English accent ever. Ever!

When we got to the bar, we were seated by the hostess lady (after the mandatory coat check - clever bastards!) and then the waitress came over to the table. Now she looked completely normal. And then she opened her mouth.

Waitress: Fancy a drink, luv?

Now, I am prone to exaggeration. I'll freely admit that. But you need to believe me when I say that this was the fakest English accent ever. It was just so bad. It was a mix of every stereotypical accent you can imagine. So, so bad.

Now I assumed that as I live in England, I would be more aware the badness of this atrocity than the others I was with.

But sometimes, I underestimate my friends sometimes. As soon as she left, I couldn't hold in my disbelief. And that was quickly backed up by the others at the table. Seriously, such a bad accent.

Anyway, they all were pressing me to bust her on her fakity fakeness. And I would have loved to have done it, really. But at heart I am a nice and somewhat shy person (shut up, I totally am), and want to make her cry in front of a huge table of people. A goodhearted friend tried to step up and help me out.

Goodhearted Friend: That's a great accent. Where are you from?

Waitress: Oh, thanks. I'm from Manchester.

Me (in my head): Manchester? Like fuck you are.

Now, I'm sorry for the profanity, but really. Manchester has a quite distinctive accent. It's easy to figure out when someone is from Manchester, just by their accent. And sure, if people live in London or the south, they can lose their regional accents, blah blah blah. If she was from Manchester, I'm from ..... well, somewhere that I am clearly not from. Paraguay, let's say. If she was from Manchester, I'm from Paraguay.

And, because I would like to be a meaner person than I am, I devised a clever test to check her supposed Manchester origins.

Me (planned clever test): Oh, you're from Manchester are you? I live in England myself. I forget, what are people from Manchester called again?

Waitress (anticipated response): Um, Manchesterites? Manchestersons? Manchesterians? Fine. Fine! I don't know. I'm really from Mississauga. Stop harassing me! [runs away in shame]

Me (anticipated glee): Glee!

Because there is no way she would have known the answer to that question, unless she'd actually lived in Manchester, or at least somewhere in the UK.

For those of you that are curious the answer is Mancunians (pronounced Man-cue-nee-uns) or Manks for short.

And seriously, fakest accent ever.

(And just for the record. I did not actually confront her. That was all imagined. Did I not mention I'm a wuss?)

Merry Christmas Movie Marathon!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

I've just finished my most delightful Christmas movie marathon, although sadly not in my new flat, because I'm not going to be in there till January, which is a whole other tragic and horrible story that we won't even get into now, because this is a time for Christmas happiness, not flat related misery.

In November, I asked for suggestions for favourite Christmas movies. I scoured eBay and my DVD collection for the finest Christmas movies my meagre amount of money could find, and came up with what I think is a pretty damn fine list.

I was planning on watching all of these fabulouso films on Christmas day, but that plan went down the drain when I did a bit of math and realized that I had about 28 hours worth of Christmassy goodness. So, two days it is!

And here it is - the finest list of Christmas movies of all time!

Christmas Eve

We started off with One Magic Christmas, which is a movie we had when I was a kid and I loved, loved, loved. And I'm pleased to say that I love it still. Mary Steenburgen stars as a woman who doesn't like Christmas, and her adorable daughter conspires with an angel, played by Harry Dean Stanton in an interesting casting choice, to give her the Christmas spirit. It has more kidnapping and murder than you'd expect in a movie about Christmas. Delightful!

Next was the 1951 version of Scrooge, the black and white version, as recommended by Aaron. I'd never seen this before, and I liked it, although the early 50's overacting got a bit much at times. It's a classic though, and I'm happy to now own it.

The second A Christmas Carol movie of the marathon was Scrooged, which I love. Bill Murray at his most Bill Murrayist. Carol Kane as the ghost of Christmas present who keeps kicking his ass. Alfre Woodard, who always rocks. Bobcat Goldwaith as a character who didn't annoy the crap out of me. Robert Goulet as himself. Delightful!! I did fast forward through some of the boring bits, but this movie is a holiday classic.

Christmas with SCTV was something I'd never come across before, but I saw it on eBay and knew it must be mine. It's two one hour specials - the 1981 and 1982 Christmas specials as they aired on TV. It's full of the classic SCTV characters, and I did like it, but it was a bit long. Next!

Another Christmas classic that was recommended but I'd not seen was The Ref. Normally I don't like the Spacey, but I did here. And I loved the Christmas wreath/candle head things that they wear. I want to get me one of those. It's chock full of swearing and yelling which is a nice break from the sap of Christmas.

I don't save it for Christmas, because I like to watch it all year, but Elf is a delightful movie that I love, love, love. Seen it a million times, and still love, love, love it. This was Sean's recommendation and I have to agree. "You sit on a throne of lies" is a line that makes me aught to even think about. Ha!

The final movie of Christmas Eve was A Christmas Story, which is the Christmassy of most Christmas classics. I want a Red Rider BB Gun for Christmas. And I will not shoot my eye out! Little Randy with his over stuffed snow suit and pig noises is so adorably cute, I could die. Adorable!

Christmas Day

Merry Christmas! We begin with my favourite Christmas cartoon, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, and I would like to clarify that I do not acknowledge the existence of that crappy Jim Carrey monstrosity. I love this cartoon. That's all I have to say about this. Love.

Next up was Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer, the first in my unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon. This is a Christmas classic, and I love it, but man, is it sexist! "They knew they should fight the abominable snowman, but felt it was best to get the women folk home". Shocking! You'd think this was made in 1864, not 1964.

In 1987, my parents taped A Claymation Christmas Celebration from TV, and it was one of my favourites. I found it again on eBay and I was super excited! And, it did not disappoint! Herb and Rex, the dinosaurs hosting our claymation fun, are hilarious, the songs are great, the California Raisins are so freakin' cool. How can you go wrong?

Next in the unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon, was Frosty the Snowman. Again, a classic. And again, dated! How does Frosty know what a thermometer is, but not know what a stoplight is? Huh? Tell me that! And Karen is a troublemaker, what with the "I'm going to the North Pole too". And I'm going to be honest with you here - they did steal the magician's hat! There, I said it.

The Little Drummer Boy was the next in the unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon. I haven't seen this since I was a kid, and I totally thought it was the story of the Little Drummer Boy turning up at the stable. And I was right, because apparently I got Book II, not the original. Which is the story of The Drummer Boy and one of the wise men saving some silver bells. Not as fabulous. A bit of a Christmas disappointment, I have to say.

Tim recommended one of his Christmas favourites, The Year Without a Santa Claus, the final film in the unintentional Rankin/Bass mini-marathon. I'd never seen this one, but it's not too shabby. Basically, Santa gets whiny, decides no one likes him and decides to cancel Christmas. And who has to save the day? Mrs. Claus, that's who. Still a bit sexist, though. I don't know if those Rankin/Bass guys like the ladies too much.

In the world of poorly animated Christmas cartoon specials, I may like A Garfield Christmas best. John, Odie and Garfield go to the farm for Christmas with Mom, Dad, Doc Boy and Grandma. And who knew that I knew the words to "Let's Have A Good Old Fashioned Christmas Down On The Farm"? Cause, you know, a little overeatin' never did you any harm.

The pinnacle of Christmas cartoons is A Charlie Brown Christmas, which is a classic of classic proportions. Charlie Brown finding the meaning of Christmas? Who wouldn't love that? I love the songs and the kid voices and Linus revealing the true meaning of Christmas. And Snoopy with the decorations. Aw!

The final A Christmas Carol movie in the marathon is Abby's recommendation, A Muppet Christmas Carol. And it is fan-freaking-tastic. Michael Caine is fabulous, Kermit is a moving Bob Cratchitt, Gonzo is delightful as narrator Charles Dickens and Rizzo the Rat is fabulous as himself. The songs are great and I love, love, love it. Man, I love, love, love a lot of Christmas movies, don't I?

Just in time for Christmas dinner is Christmas classic Miracle on 34th Street - the black & white original, not the remake. Aw, this movie is so good. Maureen O'Hara is awesome, and Natalie Wood is so freakin' cute I could eat her up with a spoon. Adorable! And the ending is so great. It's everything a Christmas movie should be.

The best of all Christmas movies, I say, is It's A Wonderful Life. So. Amazingly. Good. I've seen it almost every year, and it's still fabulous. Fab. U. Lous. I get all teary at the end every time. Aw, so Christmassy fantastic!

And last, but not least, we have Janice's recommendation White Christmas. I already had this Christmas goodie, and it's fantastic. I love Bing Crosby and with the singing and the dancing and the fabulous, it's a Christmas delight. The only song I don't like is Choreography, but I can always fast forward. Delightful!

And there ends the Christmas marathon. I need a rest now.

There were a few suggestions I didn't get to - Mike's suggestion of National Lampoon's Chritmas Vacation because I hate this movie. Hate! And I couldn't find Sarah's suggestion of The Box of Delights. And Sean suggested I drink eggnog, which I hate like poison.

Merry Christmas!

It's Getting Cold...

It's the middle of November, and I'm feeling Christmassy.

Now, I know that the people with December birthdays (hi Sarah K, Brad & Tim!) are probably hissing and thinking horrible things in the "it's not Christmas until after my birthday, dammit!", but I just can't help it. In all fairness, there have been Christmas decorations up here since mid October, so I think I'm showing admirable restraint.

Anyway, I'm going to be in my new flat for Christmas (fingers crossed), and it'll be my first Christmas in London in my own place that's big enough to have a tree. Yay!

So as I'm feeling Christmassy, I'm getting my Christmas viewing and listening material together. It's always best to be prepared. I've been downloading (not illegally, of course. Because that would be wrong.) lots and lots of music with a Christmas theme, which is very delightful. And I've been trawling through eBay to find Christmas DVD's and videos.

I've found lots of childhood favourites, but I'm sure I'm still missing a few classics. So, suggestions in the comments please - what are your favourite Christmas movies, TV specials and songs?

Also, apologies to those of you who do not celebrate Christmas, and feel free to suggest Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or Ramadan holiday treats.

Merry Christmas!

It's Christmas!

Well, not yet, obviously but I'm flying all day tomorrow and then I'll be recovering from the fam's Christmas dinner (and the resulting hangover) and then it's Christmas!

So, this is as close as we're going to get.

I hope you all have a very fun and fabulous Christmas (and/or religious or non-religious holiday celebration of your choice) and that it's filled with delicious food, yummy drinks, amusing traditions, holiday classics and the best Christmas record of all time.

I'll leave you with a delightful seasonal poem from the very clever Andy Jackson.

Merry Christmas, everybody!

Christmas is coming....

... and I'm so unprepared.

I have gifts still to buy which either means facing the Oxford Street hordes in the weekend before Christmas, or waiting till Christmas Eve and trying to buy them in Victoria. I don't even know what I want to buy, which makes it even more difficult.

I still haven't sent my Christmas cards, which means that they'll either be late, or really early for next year.

I still haven't sent the work Christmas cards, which means I have to do it on the sly on Monday to make sure I don't get busted. It seemed really important to order them about six weeks ago. I can't remember why that was now.

I have to do my laundry (stupid laundrette) in order to be able to pack to go home for Christmas. Of course, when I say "home" I mean my parent's home. I don't have a Canadian home anymore.

I have to try and figure out how I'm going to see thirty people in the three days I have in Toronto. I'm sure I can do it. It may be done through a drunken haze, but it will get done.

I have to move three days after I get back from Canada. Assuming that I'm "approved" by the estate agents.

Oh, and I have to pack up my flat. How long can that take? An hour? Two? Okay, three at the max.

I have to buy a timer for my heater so that my poor fishes don't freeze for the twelve days I'm not going to be in the country.

I have to make an extra set of keys so that Clare can feed my fish so that they don't starve during the twelve days I'm going to be out of the country. Cause you know what's not Christmassy? Dead fish.

Of course, I could, y'know, actually be doing things to get all this done. But I think we know that's not going to happen, don't we?

Ahh, Christmas. Good times, good times.

Back from Edinburgh...

... and feeling crappy.

Had an absolutely fantastic time, though. Edinburgh is absolutely gorgeous - small enough to not have to take taxis or public transit everywhere and so, so pretty.

Sarah and I decided that it would be best to start the journey with a hangover, and joined four other lovely ladies for a girlie night at Jenny's house on Wednesday night. Pizza, pink champagne, chocolates, fabulous (if I do say so myself) mixed cd's and quality television. Who could ask for more? After deciding at about 3am that we should probably try and get a little bit of sleep, we then got up at 6 to meet Tim at Kings Cross for 7:30.

Can I just say that if you're taking the train to Edinburgh - don't do it in the smoking car. Gross. Especially for a non-smoker. My eyes are hurting just thinking about four and a half hours in a smoke filled box. We got to Edinburgh at about 12:30 on Thursday and were met by the lovely John at the train station and taken to the flat. It's a crazy zig-zaggy stairs everywhere kind of flat, but huge. It was the Short Fuse flat that we were staying at. Clare was telling us a story about getting lost in it last year and Sarah and I were all Lost in a flat? How lame can you get? Now that I've seen it, I can understand. It's confusing.

We went to see Big Word when we first got there, which I was too tired to totally enjoy. Trains + hangovers = tired Alice. It was really hot in the room, and I was all tired and stuff and I think I may have dozed off slightly. How bad is that?

And then we had drinks. That being the theme of the weekend - drinks.

To be honest, I can't remember everything we did in consecutive order. Things kind of blur together. Now that I'm back in the office, it really doesn't seem likely that we ever went away. But I will now provide a list of the most memorable things about the weekend:

• Cocksucker. The phrase of the trip, and so very versitile in it's use. Try sending it in a text message, or yelling it at a stranger on the street, or adding it to a line of poetry: "Shall I compare thee to a summer cocksucker". Hilarious, I tell you.
• Bloody Mary's with breakfast. It's not really an alcoholic drink if it has vitamins in it. Of course, when breakfast is at 1pm, then all bets are off.
• The mirken (spelling to be confirmed) - apparently it's a pubic wig. Why does this exist? How does one wear it? Who came up with this? And, most importantly, why does this exist??
• Healthy broccoli. Someone told Nathan that he looked like healthy broccoli. What could that possibly mean? Is it an insult? A compliment? Was it just because he was wearing a green shirt?
• The summer Olympics are boring. Seriously, badminton is an Olympic sport? Now give me a good winter Olympics. That's entertainment.
• Kobrinsky and Andy discovering that they could both do the Highland Fling on the train platform in Perth. And performing it drunkenly. On the train platform. And then again outside a pub in Edinburgh. We kidnapped him, and he got drunk with us. Excellent.
• Sarah doing the only spit take I think I've ever seen in real life - all over Nathan's Auntie Avril.
• Going to see Drinking and Writing and getting drunk with the writers/performers. Who both drink and write. Much like the people I was staying with. I just drink.
• Viv, the hot rickshaw driver. Cheryl would have you believe that it was just Sarah and I checking out his ass but she totally was too. Sarah, however, was the only one who took photos. Of his ass. As he was driving the three of us around the very hilly city of Edinburgh.
• Sabrina George - proud owner of the worst flyer in the entire festival. More typos than you could possibly imagine. And a constant source of fun: "Do you think she meant 'see her' instead of 'see ger'?" Nathan was keeping it in his jacket pocket to show to random people. Excellent.
• "Listen to your friend Billy Zane". Quoting Zoolander never gets old.
• Seeing Short Fuse twice, because we forgot to take photos the first time. Even after being reminded several times. Lame!
• Hating the people handing out flyers - Damn you, Poe people!
• "It's so dark in my space"
• The shame of only seeing three shows the entire time we were there. Just the three I mentioned. How bad is that?

So, it was a great long weekend. I was very happy to get back to my bed, and am now ill, but it was totally worth it.

Next time, I think I'll actually try to see some shows. Just an idea.