The "Yes" Girl

This past weekend was an exercise in saying “yes” to everything I was invited to do, and I must say, it turned out pretty well!

Friday Night: Parson’s Green

Friday night, my new friend Dominic invited me out with him and some friends at the White Horse Pub in Parsons Green (about a 20-minute taxi ride from my neighborhood), followed by dinner at another pub a few minutes away. What an unusual crowd that was….Dom, three of his English friends, and about seven Americans from Tennessee. Dom went to Vanderbilt in Nashville, so it was a combination of classmates/friends who now live in London, and some others that had come to visit. They were a loud, fun crowd, it was just odd to be in England surrounded by a group of boisterous American Southerners. At first, I hesitated when I received the invite out of fear of showing up alone, not knowing anyone and looking like a loser (I’d only met Dom once). But reason kicked in that the alternative was to hang out by myself on a Friday night at home watching the BBC, eating a pizza and drinking a bottle of wine (which, um, is what I did many a Friday night in NYC, even with other options), so that didn’t sound like a very good plan either. After all, now is the time to be a little bold considering I’m in a new town where no one will just magically come knocking on my door. And as it turned out, gabbing inanely and laughing with a bunch of crazy strangers while sharing a sticky toffee pudding turned out to be a pretty good evening. (NOTE: The sticky toffee pudding was tasty, but in England, “pudding” just kinda means dessert….it was not pudding, just toffee-flavored cake. And not even that sticky, now that I think back on it.)

Saturday: Big Bus Tour, Tea, and The Offspring


Saturday morning, I met my friends Jon and Tania for a 2.5 hour Big Bus Tour around London. You know, the double decker bus gig. John and Tania have lived here for years but had never done the tour, so it was fun (and funny) being a tourist with them...we were all snapping pictures and oooing and aaahing the whole way. It was a GORGEOUS day with sunny blue skies and white puffy clouds. The tour itself was great, but I must say, Jon and Tania were really the main attraction. Boy do those kids know how to be tourists in style. They showed up with a six-pack of Belgian beer, a thermos of hot toddies (my new favorite drink: whisky, hot water and sugar), and sandwiches and salad from Marks & Spencer. So needless to say, we ate and drank our way through the Big Bus Tour, sitting on top of the bus in the open air with the wind in our hair. Couldn’t understand a word the tour guide was saying (it all sounded like Charlie Brown teacher speak to me), but the sights were great in the glorious weather and it was nice to get out and about.


After the bus tour, we went into Fortnum & Mason on Picadilly, a very famous department store with an unbelievable food hall on the main floor. There really is nothing to compare this type of thing to in the States. Like the food hall at Harrod’s, Fortnum & Mason wows you, and the pictures here show you why: Chocolates, truffles, and candy as far as the eye can see. Vats of exotic coffee beans. Tin upon glorious tin of rare teas. Rows of crackers, cheese, olive oil, pate, cookies, crackers, biscuits, crisps, pastries, jellies, jams, and nuts. Honey in every shade of gold from far corners of the world. Beautifully packaged gifts packed in wooden boxes, shiny paper, colorful tins and ceramic pots. It’s like being, um, a kid in a candy store! The outside windows and inside displays are whimsically magical, and the posh carpeting and crystal chandeliers finish off the decadent experience of being in the place. I think I want to live there.

After being overwhelmed by hand selecting a box of chocolate truffles for a thank you gift I needed for someone, we went upstairs to the tea parlor. We each got a pot of tea and some biscuits (cookies) and sat gabbing on the comfy sofas for a couple hours and listening to the piano player. We left right before the 4pm afternoon tea rush.

Saturday evening, my new friend Margot (she is originally from Atlanta and has lived in London for 4 years) invited me to jpin her to go see/hear the American rock band “The Offspring” play in Brixton Saturday night. I haven’t rocked out like that since Christy Gagnon’s dad took us to the Duran Duran concert in the 7th grade. The concert was loud and fun (kind of like the dinner crowd Friday night, albeit a bit louder and sans Southern accents.) After the concert, we went to a nearby pub for a cocktail to avoid the post-concert tube crowds. Brixton is an interesting neighborhood -- it’s what you’d get if you crossed Harlem with the Lower East Side in NYC. Very cool ‘hood with interesting and seemingly nice people.

Sunday: Say “Om,” Carnivale and Fireworks

Sunday afternoon I went to yoga class at the gym. I really like the instructor and will make a regular go of it. I felt great after, although I am writing this two days later and am still sore. It’s a substantial class -- an hour and a half. I twisted myself in every conceivable pretzel position known to man. And maybe some not known to man until Sunday. I even did a headstand, with some initial help from the instructor. How did I do that as a kid?! I used to stand on my head for hours in the family room while watching TV. I think the world made more sense to me upside down at that point in my life. As a matter of fact, the world seemed to make more sense to me again upside down in yoga class. Blood rushing to the head -- a good thing on occasion. Perhaps I need to practice that maneuver some more in my flat. Maybe I can even work that way.

Sunday evening I walked down to Victoria Embankment along the river and caught the Thames River Festival parade, which started at 8pm. It was an hour-long Brazilian Carnival-themed parade of Samba music, brightly-coloured lanterns, bands, dancers, floats, and scantily-clad women in feathers. It was very fun and festive, and I snapped so many pictures that my camera batteries died halfway through. I even saw the Mayor of Westminster up close (oooooohhhhh). He seemed to be enjoying the scantily-clad women. His wife however, did not.

After the parade, I made my way up to Blackfriar’s Bridge to get a good vantage point to watch the festival’s closing night fireworks over the Thames. I stood waiting an hour for them to start, crammed into a crowd of hundreds, and they lasted, oh, about 5 minutes. NYC definitely trumps London in the fireworks department. The standard sparks set off for the symphony concerts in Central Park alone last longer than that! Oh well, again, nothing better to do, and it was a great night, so no complaints…

Here's a picture of my favorite parade entry: The piggies with knives and forks....they were dancing to the song "I Shot the Sherriff" by Bob Marley...classic!

So that was my weekend of being a yes girl. With days like these, who wants to say no?