Progress!

I'm finally done sorting the 503242 pictures that I took in Paris. On a Saturday night, instead of going out like the rest of the world, I'm holed up in the apartment doing this. If this doesn't prove my love for you, I don't know what will. And don't listen to those pesky rumors flying around about exhaustion and food coma being the real reason why I'm home today. It's all lies, I tell you, LIES! I'll be back tomorrow to write about it. Meanwhile, here's a taste of what's to come:



I absolutely love this picture, because it reminds me of the timeless nature of Paris. When you walk around, you can visualize how life must have been 50, 100, 500 years ago. But more on that tomorrow. For now, I'm going to be like a grandmother and go to bed at 10. On a Saturday night. Somebody please slap me.

Facebook "Like" of the week

"Inside me lives a skinny woman crying to get out...but I can usually shut the bitch up with cookies."

This week is killing me, but I'm hoping to be slightly less dead on Sunday and finally blog about Paris. Right now, my knee pain is back, my tooth hurts, and I'm googling "how to make your ear pop" because my left ear has been blocked since Monday. Now you understand why I had to finish a pint of ice cream this week? Hope you're all having a better week than I am!

Paris details

are on their way, but you'll have to wait until the weekend to hear about the crepe consumption, the thing that stood between me and creme brulee, and about taking a nap in Jardin des Tuileries. Meanwhile, here's a high level summary of the entire weekend:

Off to Paris for the weekend...

...but before I go, here's a rundown of all the things I did in London last weekend:

Reunited with my sweetheart:



Yes, this is nothing but a good oldfashioned mall. With escalators and more than five stores and food stalls and everything. Oh, how I have missed thee! I'm not much of a shopper, but whenever things were down, I'd always find solace int eh mall. Often, I wouldn't even buy anything, but just watching teens line up outside Hollister and continuing my quest to find Petite clothes that fit me always made me feel that everything will be alright in the world. Alas, Switzerland may have Alps and cows and beauty, but it doesn't have malls! So it was time for much needed retail therapy. I went to the Westfield mall in West London and basically walked around for three hours. I exited the mall and made my way to:

Leicester Square:



It's a really nice square, very close to Covent Garden, and a Mecca for food, movie, and theater buffs like me. I had drinks with a friend and we went for dinner to the most amazingly fantabulous Indian Restaurant called Masala Zone. In the past, I have often had heated discussions on the lack of authenticity in the Indian food in London, but after having dinner here, I take it all back. The food was authentic Indian food, more from the western part of India. All of us had a Thali, which looked like this:



I loved this restaurant chain so much that I went to each one of their locations over the weekend. Everyday, I had dinner at a different location. I did takeout from their Soho location Saturday night, and after placing my order, the guy at the counter asked me if this order was for two people or three, so he could provide that many plates and utensils. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was all for just one person, so I said it was for two people. Yes, I realize normal people don't do these things. But if there's anything you know about me by now, then it is the fact that I'm not quite normal.

Flower Market and more food:

On Sunday, my friend T, with whom I was staying, met up with another friend D, and all of us went to the Columbia Flower Market, which is very close to where T lives. I love flowers, so I just walked around taking in the smells and the scents, and of course, some pictures:





We then briefly stopped by at a kids' birthday party, but since I'm secretly afraid of kids, I just went there for some cake, and D and I left as soon as I had consumed a piece. We walked around Oxford Street, Regent Street, and Piccadilly Circus. It just felt so good to be in a big city, surrounded by rude people, where you weren't the only person in the entire country who was jay walking.

D and I had dinner at Masala Zone one last time, and we met up with T and walked from Covent Garden to London Bridge, just talking about food and life and the veritable lack of hot men on this planet. It was a great trip; I caught up with many of my friends whom I hadn't seen in a while, shopped, ate, ate, ate. And now I'm off to Paris to eat some more! Crepes, here I come :)

It's a Hard Life

This week was supposed to be all about London and what I did there and what I ate. I figured the Land Of the Queen deserved more than one post. But things happened, as things tend to, that lead me to alter my agenda a little bit. For today is the day that I introduced a whole new set of people to the horrors of my gluttony. My friend Julie had organized a dinner for, get this, 22, that's right, TWENTY-TWO women, at my favorite(and perhaps, the only) Ethiopian restaurant in Zurich. As I am an idiot wrapped in a moron, I got lost on my way to the restaurant, even though I have been there numerous times now. Julie and Carla were standing out on the street trying to spot me. This is why I wore a bright red jacket today; I knew something like this would happen that would require me to be spotted from space. We finally united and I made my merry way into the restaurant.

The fellow vegetarians in attendance united and formed our own front. We were a varied bunch, from U.S., Canada, Germany, and Sweden. It was a great group of people and good conversation was had, with much of it centering around food, to my delight. You all remember what happened the last time I went to this restaurant. Well, this time, I decided to take it up a notch. So we got two servings, yes, two servings, of this:



When I finally stopped eating, as usual, I couldn't breath due to the food coma. I almost wanted to lie down on the couch and find the will to move again. Julie did an absolutely wonderful job organizing everything and the company was exceptional. I also caught up a bit with Jenny, whom I met on my disastrous bike trip back when I first moved here. After she was done playing hostess, I had her look at my knee, which was bothering me. She moonlights as a knee expert, so I'd highly recommend that you solicit her services when required. She did some complicated looking things with my knee and concluded that I may have some tendon inflammation in my right knee.

I don't really know what could be the cause of this knee inflammation - the only thing I can conclude is that maybe leaping across the table to get the last bite chocolate before someone else ate it may not have helped the situation. I've been asked to lie down, wrap an icepack around my knee, and perch it at an angle such that it's above my heart. So here I am, in a comically awkward position, with my laptop in my lap (but not really), looking like I'm doing more acrobats than those at a circus. Thank you, I'll be here all week.

Gatwick Airport - Stuff that nightmares are made of

Whenever a little kid refuses to eat his veggies, his mom probably tells him, "Have your veggies, or you will be forced to fly into Gatwick airport the next time you go to London". I had heard stories about this, but after flying into Gatwick this time around, I am convinced of their authenticity. By the time I landed in Gatwick on Thursday night, hunger had started to hum. As a result, I was already a bit disoriented. And we all know what kinds of things happen when I'm hungry. On top of all this, many of the exits from the Gatwick terminal to the Shuttle were closed, and the Detour signs were unclear, to say the least. I ended up going through Baggage claim and customs at least twice. And I didn't even check-in any bags! I had that vacant look that people get in their eyes when they go to watch The Predator and find out that Adrian Brody only took his shirt off once. You begin to question your very existence. Fortunately, before the questioning got too intense, I found my way to the shuttle and then to the train station to take the Express train to my friend's place in East London.

Aforementioned hunger made me buy a Same Day return Ticket from Gatwick to London bridge. Yes, Same day. Apparently my hungry mind decided that riding the Gatwick express back and forth would be an ideal way to resolve my hunger issues. At the train station, I saw something marvelous: I saw Subway. Yes, the fast-food chain. It has been exactly 4.5 months since I last saw one of these. I just stood outside in adoration of the store for a good five minutes. Who knew I'd get so sentimental over limp lettuce and canned olives? I wanted to grab a sandwich before I boarded the train, but the display kept blinking at me and informed me that the arrival of the train was imminent. I rushed to the platform, only to find another blinking display - this one announcing that the train was delayed by 20 minutes. I wanted to rail against the gods and ask, "Why, god, why?" Alternatively, I could also have run back to the Subway stand and bought my sub, but the thought of lugging my carry-on up and down non-escalated stairs didn't sound too appealing at the time.

By the time I made it to London Bridge, I was blinded by hunger. Literally blinded for two seconds, but then I realized it's because I had closed my eyes. I grabbed a cab and made my way to my friend's place. I made the cab driver drop me a block away from their home because I spotted an Indian restaurant and wanted to grab some take-out before I went over to their place. Most people bring gifts to the people they are visiting. But I don't follow any such norms. Me, I took take-out. For myself. Before I went to their place. My friend T was out of town that night but her husband S let me in. Instead of making conversation and catching up with him, the first words out of my mouth were, "Hi S! So good to see you!! I'm very hungry and desperately need to eat right away!" I then proceeded to make him watch me wolf down some Naan and curry. In between the chomping I'd come up for some air and mumble something at him in an attempt to make conversation, but such was my hunger that my eyes didn't even leave my dinner plate until everything was swept clean. Never let it be said that I don't give my hundred percent to anything that I do.

S, who was probably in shock and awe, had plans to leave early the next morning and went to get some sleep. Poor bloke probably had nightmares about a crazy houseguest who ate all their food. Satiated, I switched the TV on, and found English channels! For these three days, I wouldn't have to watch Castle in German, or Monk in Italian, or CSI in French - all the shows and channels were in English. I cried a few tears of joy and watched some NCIS before I went off to bed. Tomorrow, I introduce you to my lovah...

Aaaand I'm back!

I'm back from London; had an amazing time there! It's a LOT different from what it used to be about four years ago, when I lived there for a few months. Overall, it just felt so damn good to be in a big, English-as-the-main-language city, full of hustle and bustle, and feel the beat of a big city once again. I've got loads to share, but I need to unpack, do laundry, eat, watch True Blood, watch Mad Men, have a long debate about whether or not I want to have dessert, probably end up having some dessert, and do the dishes, before I can really talk about the trip. In the mean time, one of these things didn't happen on the trip - I'll let you try and figure out which one it was:

1) I did takeout before I even reached my friend's apartment in London
2) I got a papercut on my arm
3) When doing takeout, I was asked, "Is this for two people or three?"
4) I had to wake up at 3:30am to catch the first flight back to Zurich and go to work
5) I hugged clothes in the Petite section in stores
6) I finally turned down an offer of food

Will either be back later today or most likely tomorrow with the first snippets. Until then, keep guessin'!

UPDATE: I JUST WATCHED LAST NIGHT'S EPISODE OF TRUE BLOOD AND I AM @#$%$^%$. THIS SHOW HAS TAKEN AWAY MY ABILITY TO TYPE IN LOWER CAPS. HOLY COW. WHAT AN EPISODE. SUFFICE TO SAY, DETAILS ABOUT LONDON WILL HAVE TO WAIT. WOW.