The BIG News (no, Hugh Jackman and I aren't engaged. Yet)

A really long time ago, on a whim, I applied to graduate school. I was going through some big life changes and I figured that I would just see what could happen. (please note that my father encouraged me to apply to grad school--he was not specific as to where!)

Then my dear Molly got accepted to Cambridge and I shouted it from the rooftops. And then a friend encouraged me to try my hand at graduate school in the UK saying that I'd never know until I try.

Tis true.... 

So, I did.

And I waited.

And waited some more.

And my life went on. I learned yoga. I got a new job. I fell in love with my new life--my life filled with dance, yoga, running, musicals and travel. I had friends to spend holidays with, I had races to run, I had things to do, people to see--I was happy.

Then, one day, I received an email saying the institution I applied to would like to interview me. I jumped at it. I ran around my office screaming like a child and frantically responded with "YES WHAT TIME I CAN DO WHENEVER SERIOUSLY WHENEVER LETS TALK".

The interview was scheduled. It was Skype. At 6am my time. I would need to look fabulous. I studied up on the professor interviewing me. I read student profiles. I re-read parts of The Odyssey. I researched classes. My friends came over the night before and prayed with me. They calmed me down and said such wonderful things. They shared their King's experiences with me. I knew it all. I was prepared.

When the video call came in, I thought I was going to puke I was so nervous. (didn't help that the dude interviewing me was cute with a capital CUUUUUUUTE)

But, I pushed that aside and spoke. I spoke from my heart. I fought for what I wanted, I used this as a chance to make my voice heard. I explained why I had applied. How my life had changed, and how grateful I would be for the opportunity.

While I felt good at the end of the interview, I had my doubts. My GPA wasn't that high and I was applying to one of the smallest (read: most impacted) programmes in the University.

I obsessively checked the website, anxious to just see the "rejected" and move on with my life. I wouldn't allow myself to look at classes, or order books (as the professor recommended), or even tell anyone the truth behind my vague tweets and instagrams. I couldn't jinx it.

I hit the refresh button like it was my job.

Until, 5 minutes before I had to teach a pure barre class--at my actual job-- the words "unconditional offer" popped up. And I screamed. And cried. And ran outside to call and text everyone I knew. Then I cried some more. My entire body was shaking. I could hardly hold my phone.

The thing I've wanted since before I can even remember, the thing I've dreamt about at night, that thing is real. Is happening.

I'm moving to London!!!

(also titled "I'm moving halfway across the world on several weeks notice and FREAKING THE HECK OUT")

At The Tower embracing my new HOMETOWN

To study Classics at King's College London.

You know, it's one of those Smart People schools (I am not Smart People)! Ahhh!!

Where, everyday, I will get off the District Line at Temple station, walk a few hundred feet, and be at school.

Mind the Gap

I will have lunch along the Thames, and drag my friends to Balan's for a dirty breakfast at 3am. I will shut down The Lyric. The V and A will be my classroom. I will ride horses in Hyde Park. I will take the train to Brighton with Molly and make her ride roller coasters. I will go punting in Cambridge. I will walk my dogs in Notting Hill. I will stalk Tam Mutu outside The Queen's.

I will do everything I've ever wanted, everything I've ever dreamt about.

It's all happening.

It's the scariest thing that I've ever done. I'm packing up my life on a few weeks notice and moving across the world. I'm changing everything I've ever known! I didn't know I had it in me to do this--I didn't know King's would even take a chance on me.

King's College London on The Strand

But, here I am. Mere weeks away from receiving a student discount on my Oyster card (and at Ted Baker, I can't even tell you how excited I am about THAT); weeks away from the thing I never believed I could have. Weeks away from waking up in London, and finally being able to call it my home. From hopping a 40 minute train to see my beloved Molly. From Nando's dinners with her and late night chats on the floor of her flat while watching New Girl. Weeks away from the greatest, scariest, biggest adventure ever.

"It's time to close my eyes, take a chance and leap"

I'm scared to death. Scared to pack up my life, leave my amazing friends, leave my J-O-B that I love, leave my running group, leave my Texas. I'm scared I will get to London and hate it. That the dream I've always had will be a nightmare. I'm scared of my classes--am I smart enough for this? I'm scared I won't get the chance to LIVE. I'm scared of everything. But, I can't let that hold me back. I can't miss the chance of a lifetime!

Sometimes, dreams come true. Sometimes, things work out. Sometimes, it's better than you imagined it could be.

"The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward."

Now, here's to hoping Prince Harry bumps into me on one of my runs through St. James Park and falls madly in love with me. I mean, let's be honest, that's the real game plan here--marry a Brit.

London, baby!

I think I'll try Defying Gravity

I have some very big things to tell y'all and I am so excited to share. But, I have to get ducks in a row first! 

This song came on the other day while I was lining up said ducks, and I started crying my eyes out--it was so fitting, I can't even! 

And no one can bring me down. 

Defying Gravity, from Wicked 

"Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by


The rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes
And leap...

It's time to try defying gravity
I think I'll try defying gravity
And you can't pull me down

I'm through accepting limits
'Cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try I'll never know
Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well if that's love
It comes at much too high a cost

I'd sooner buy defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down!

Tell them how I am defying gravity
I'm flying high, defying gravity
And soon I'll match them in renown
And nobody in all of Oz
No Wizard that there is or was
Is ever gonna bring me down!!"

Iris, I get you

In one of my random wallow-y moods over the weekend, I decided to watch The Holiday. Mainly because I'm certain Kate Winslet and I should be BFF and also because, Jude Law. 

Honestly, this movie has been my life of late. I am Iris. Forever Iris. And I wish I wasn't. 

She delivers a monologue to Jack Black's character when his girlfriend dumps him, and, although I've heard it at least 50 times, I really heard it for the first time this last weekend. So, I had to write it down and save it here. In case anyone who might be reading this little blog has been there, or is currently there--just know, you are not alone. I'm right there with you. 

We'll fight through it together, and eventually, all the heartache, the Jasper Bloom bullshit, will eventually begin to fade.....

"I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you..... And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends.... You still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door..... And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade."

Because, eventually, it will begin to fade, right? I mean, it has to.

And maybe someday, I will go somewhere new, maybe I'll start over with my little brood of dogs and the horse and we'll have a new dawn, a new day, a new life for us, and the hurt will fade. And my soul will come back. 

Bonus points if this could happen in the UK, please and thank you!

July 4th. And 5th. And 6th.

I had a really, really amazing past few days.

My festive July 4th frock!

I worked the morning of the 4th, and then spent the afternoon and evening BBQ-ing and swimming with some friends. Lance and Michelle found a place we could set off our own fireworks, and Lance has always wanted to that with his kiddos, having grown up in a fireworks family, I knew we had to make this happen! Especially since my entire family is up at the ranch and I'm not there and won't be there this year and it breaks my heart. I needed some good ol black powder!

I teach Lance and Michelle's daughter in Sunday School and they shared Easter with me, along with Memorial Day. I just adore them. They called to wish me good luck in Luxembourg. They invite me over for cookies. They are truly some of the greatest people I know. And I love their children so much.

I brought back presents for their kiddos, and Elise named her teddy bear Londony, gave him an American flag and he (she?) ate BBQ with us. And she clutched him to her sweet little face while we watched fireworks. I gave their son a porcelain Beefeater that he could paint and he declared me his very best friend.

(I went to the bathroom and cried because I was so touched)

Meet Londony. 

They baked me cookies. They took me to the suburbs to set off fireworks and we called my family on speaker phone so we could all share the big bang boom pops of the fireworks. Their children cuddled with me. I taught their son to light sparklers. I felt such amazing joy. As we piled back into the car, I couldn't stop smiling. I was just so happy.

FIRE!!!

My family really does up the 4th, and always has. I've hosted big cook outs and pool parties as an adult, it's just my tradition. I was heartsick to not be with my huge, loud family this year at the ranch, unable to have someone to share these traditions; I so desperately had hoped I'd meet someone and he'd be part of our holiday. Alas.....

I got more than I could've asked for!

The Celaya boys watching FIRE

Big brother and little brother hugs, I die 

I was given even more! Trevor gave me this on Sunday--that's me with fireworks, a flag, and then of course, hearts and more fireworks. I cried a lot. He's my very best friend too!

Then! On Friday, my bffffffffffff Sara came to town for a bachelorette party and I got to crash it for a few hours. It was mainly just an excuse to see her. Which, duh.

Best friends in Fort Worth 

We caught up, we laughed, we ate tacos, we danced to some country music--it was perfect. Just seeing her, I don't know what it is about our friendship, it just sets my heart at ease. And, bonus, I get to see her in two more weeks when I go to St. Louis for Cardinals games and Les Mis-ery! Hurruh!

Funniest thing is, her friends said we looked like sisters and they understand why we're besties, because we are basically the same person. Ha! Yes. It's true.

These were the door stamps at a bar in the Stockyards. I'm kind of obsessed with it. 

And she brought presents.

Already putting it to use.... Or, attempting to. 

Then on Saturday, I worked part day, and had brunch with a dear, dear friend--wherein I left my number for the cuuuuuuuuuute waiter (he hasn't called, because, obviously, this is my life, shit like that doesn't happen). (and I have never done anything like that in my life, but, hi, he looked like an older scruffy Thor, obviously I am going to attempt to make that happen)

And played with these idiots.

Oh, I got a puppy a few weeks ago. Did I forget to mention that?

This is Miss Moneypenny.

She thinks she's a cat. No, she wasn't "using" it, she was just digging. Hence, the mess. 

This is how Ella Mae beagle feels about Moneypenny....

Unimpressed beagle is unimpressed 

And that, that my friends, is how I celebrated July 4th. And 5th. And 6th. Happy birthday America!!

Stagey Stoke

So.

I needed fuel for the fiasco I was about to walk into 

I went to Stoke-on-Trent to see my actor friend (aka, the barricade boy) (FML) preform in Priscilla Queen of the Desert. My darling barricade boy is now dressing in drag. This is hilarious for about seventy billion reasons, but, we'll get to that in a minute.

Well, actually, no, just, watch this video and then we'll talk:

Still laughing? I know, me too. ME TOO.

We had talked about my coming up to see the show for ages, but, when the dates I would be in the UK corresponded with him being in Stoke, we hmmed and hahhed over my coming to The Worst Place On Earth-- Ever. After many apologies about how horrible it would be, we decided I would brave it and come up--he wanted my opinion on the show, and we thought it would be really awful to be so close and miss each other, so, we agreed that I would train it up there to see him in all his glitter fabulousness.

(and, Stoke really is that bad, but, we managed to make it awesomely fun) (Stoke still sucks)

He sent me the link to the train tickets--which I laughed at, because really fool, you think I don't know how to navigate the UK via train? Oh, silly, silly creature.

We arranged to come up on Thursday, because Jason Donovan was in the lead that night, and he wanted me to get the full effect of the show in it's prime--lovely. "It's so GAY!" At the last minute, his role was changed from his standard ensemble and Frank roles to that of who he understudies. This proved to be good and bad. At first he was upset, wanting me to see what he does every night, but, when we grabbed dinner and chatted over it, we both decided I probably wasn't emotionally ready to see that much of him. And in that much glitter.

Instead he played a 60 year Aussie with a mail order bride. It was kind of even better.

We met up before the show, and he took me to the box office to get my tickets, which, thank you bestie for the discount--you are the most awesome--and a pressie--which was a programme (he hates when I pay for them) wherein we flipped through it and he showed me all the roles he would not be playing that night. I nearly fell over laughing when he showed me who he is in the picture below.

Any guesses as to which one is my man? I can tell you, you won't believe me.

To which I argued "That is not you! It's not, this is not possible!" and his "Well, I don't know what to tell you Al, because, it is!". Then I laughed some more and he smacked me for being the worst friend ever.

I dropped him at the stage door, as per tradition and ran back to the hotel to change. Susan and I decked ourselves in all the sparkles and headed to the theatre.

I wore a Priscilla appropriate ensemble 

So, we watched the show. Which was a whole lot of glitter, lipstick, pink, sparkle and Kylie jokes.

And then I made this face.

At the interval--also, hi Regan's weird headshot!! 

And this one.

Susan had some thoughts too!

Listen, he's brilliant--but, it's the gayest show ever (his words, not mine--although, I agree), and having seen him in so many classic musicals, it was weird for me to watch him out of his element. It was even harder for me to imagine him dancing to "Go West" in silver booty shorts, chaps, and a cowboy hat. Which, would have happened on any other night. I'm kind of glad I missed that. I love him, but, I don't need to see him in booty shorts.

The purple leather. I can't even. He hates that costume, hates it. Also, please note that chest shaving is required. And no beard. He loves his beard. I've never seen him without it, I would freak out.

In the finale, he was in a kangaroo costume--I so wish I had a picture, I would sell my soul to have a picture. I have never laughed so hard in my entire life (until later that night, of course). Susan legit had to hold me up, and the girls next to us thought I was insane. Listen, they weren't there to see the possible love of their life turned best friend in drag, so, really, shut it.

After the show, being the good mate he is, he had arranged to take us to wine and cheese with the cast at a pub and then one of their wardrobe staff was guest DJ-ing at a gay bar, so, we would go there after.

Serious.

We went to the pub, took a seat, and he introduced me to his castmates, many of which knew who I was--only mildly weird. I bonded with his friend Wayne over marathon training, Susan was a hit, having just seen an ex castmate of theirs in Book of Mormon. We laughed, we caught up, we talked. I made fun of his singing "A Fine Romance" off pitch (but did say I was pleased to hear him sing--finally, as he didn't really sing in Scrooge!), we agreed he needs to get back to the West End, I made fun of him performing the finale in a kangaroo costume. "The whole thing is shit, and you open with that?! Ally!" See, I am an amazing friend. I also said there was too much man booty and that I covered my eyes several times. Because I'm a lady. (but really, he knows I will always support and cheer him on. Even in booty shorts)

Then we went to Pink. The aptly named gay nightclub. In Stoke-on-Trent.

Where we had so.much.fun! Oh man. Seriously. It was, one of the most fun nights ever. We have such a great time together, we just have so much to talk about and enjoy--we also have fun making fun of other actors, making fun of each other, laughing at our accents, dancing, singing--we just have the best time. We get each other. We can talk about theatre, travel, life, work, friends--nothing is off limit and we always understand and empathize with each other--which, is pretty awesome.

His stage manager, Michael came out with us, and we had a such fun with him. At one point, Michael and BB were dancing and somehow I was pulled into the mix, being tossed around a dance floor to Cotton Eye Joe in five inch Jimmy Choo's. In Stoke on Trent. I can't make this up.

THE LIGHTING IS PINK!!! I die. 

Because if Michael and BB can't get down in Stoke, well, then....

I honestly have no idea what's happening here. But I know we were laughing.

Get it, BB! Show off those 'Scilla dance moves. I wish y'all could see his face here--it's pursed lips, which is just hilarious. 

We spilled a few pints, shed a few tears, we laughed a whole lot. We avoided--and then befriended, stalkers. We hugged. We danced. We sang. We shared truths. We shared secrets. We shared special moments. We shared hopes. We shared a great night.

Me and BB. Who is wearing Abercrombie. If you think I didn't mention that once or twice, you are wrong. (and now, you finally know what we look like together) (ughhhhh) (aren't we cute?! goddamn it, friends shouldn't look this cute together whine whine, damn it)

And then, then, my best karaoke sang "Rawhide" for me, and I fell over laughing. Because he was determined to sing something "Texan for his Texan!". And I literally thought I was going to pass out I was laughing so hard--dude has a great voice, and there is nothing more hilarious than a deep baritone singing "Rawhide" at 4am at a gay bar. This I know to be true.

Please note, my sparkle dress in the reflection, Ian in the black tee, and the fabulous wig happening at the DJ booth.

On his wrist? Yeah, my lucky hair tie. Which I'd like back, please and thank you!

Originally, we thought we'd end the night early, because it was Stoke. I was annoyed because he and I, when we're together can legit stay out until 4 or 5am (happened at Balan's last time) and I was bummed that we'd be calling it a night before 2. Not that I ever stay out that late, because honestly, I don't, but, we only see each other every who knows how often, so, our time is limited and if I was trekking myself to bloody Stoke, we needed some solid time together!

Welp, it was near 7am when we said our goodbyes. And then I discovered the soles of my shoes were ruined. Even though I'd stashed flip flops in my bag--which I never put on.

So, I think Stoke delivered on that one.

I heart London: part two

MY FAVORITE!!

After having too much fun at Balans, we got downright spoiled because we had too much fun the following day! (and the day after that, and the day after that, and--sorry, I've been listening to Kiss of The Spider on repeat)

We had a fabulous lunch with the amazingly sweet and wonderful Lovely Jubbly London who was so sweet to meet us in South Ken even after we were late due to a freaking nightmare on the District Line--I need to see her more in my life!! (girl, I miss you!) We are also pretty sure our pana cotta was a wee bit boozy....! Ha! Since LJL had to get back to work, we hopped the Piccadilly line and headed over to Mayfair so I could show Susan around my part of town. We wandered around Piccadilly and St James and I showed her my old haunts. I took her to my favorite coffee shop--which I was scared had closed since I haven't been there in forever--it hadn't! And, it was lovely, per usual.  We strolled Oxford Street, giggled down Shaftesbury Ave and then headed to Covent Garden for dinner with Beantown Prep, whose mom lives down the street from Susan in New Hampshire! Hello, small world!

Because it was raining and we were running late thanks to the horribleness of the Oxford Circus station--seriously, I can't even right now with the Bakerloo line--we weren't able to get into the restaurant BP had suggested, so, she took us to a little tavern on Drury Lane (memories!!!) where we had THE BEST FOOD. Oh my gosh, goat cheese stuffed flowers drizzled with honey. I'm still dreaming about it. I really could have eaten 17 of them. I think I had 2. I showed incredible restraint.

(I was also going to see him the following day, so, I needed to reign myself in from all the sweets I inhaled in Luxembourg) (yes, I am ashamed at myself for even writing that sentence, don't worry, I judge myself enough)

We ended up chatting with BP for ages, which was much needed because I missed her on my last trip, and I freaking adore her, so, by the time we got back to Soho it was later than I had anticipated.

This has always perplexed me: many pubs in Soho/West End close ridiculously early. I get that there are "week nights" and the "weekend", but, on the West End when people aren't getting off work until 11 and you close at midnight? That's not cool! Anywhoodle.

The Lyric is one of those pubs that closes early. In the past, we've sprinted there from the Queen's stage door and only had time for one drink before last call. I think once barricade boy had his pint in a plastic cup because they were already doing the dishes, ha!

We walked in around I have no idea what time, I pushed myself up to the bar and ordered for us. They were running some special or whatever, so, gave us a bottle of wine. FOR FREE. I stalked people with my side eye until they moved and we got MY TABLE--which is, in the back, by the fireplace, in case you were wondering. I was not about to set up at the bar, oh heck no. (I have a "table" at Duke of Argyll and Balan's as well. I am nothing if not a prime people watching location snob)

Lyric pub selflies. If it's not on Instagram, it didn't happen, right? (via @cupcak_orgasm 's insta account)

From my perch at The Lyric. I'll cut a bitch for this table, serious

Per usual, we shut the place down, and left as they were locking the doors. Since we had an entire bottle of wine, and it was still early, we smushed it into Susan's purse, left out of there with booze in our bags and strolled down to Archer Street.

Noooo, of course we didn't take that into our next stop. Noooo.

Archer Street is a place I've been with Molly, Alex and barricade boy. It's a hangout of "the lot" and has tons of good memories and inside jokes for me. It can be hoppin' or empty--which, can be dicey. That night, it was hoppin'! On a freaking Wednesday. London, you a'ight!

Susan set up shop finding us a table and I not-so-patiently waited at the bar because I didn't think they'd been too keen on us using our own smuggled bottle. I didn't want to be blacklisted from one of my favorites! Ha

Got a table at Archer Street!! Holla! 

We saw bad dancing, heard bad singing and laughed a lot. I love the random crowd that ends up here, it's so Soho fabulous and awful. We met a fabulous gay hipster who started a conversation with me over this bottle:

My stagey friends drink this, it cracks me up, so I am making fun of them. Also, sob! My trench coat!

He told me if I moved to London in three months, he'd date me. And when I used the expression "my former life", he said I wasn't old enough to have former lives. Naturally, I love him. He gave me his phone for me to put my number and email, but, lesbihonest, I'll never hear from him, he was just cute and funny and I thought "hey, I could use another London friend"! Kind of do wish he'd text though, he was fabulous! (not as fabulous as the queens we met the following night, just sayin!)

After our fabulous friend left, we stayed a bit longer at Archer Street, but, called it a relatively early night, walking past the old theatre and laughing because we had to catch a train to Stoke-on-Trent the following day to see a certain stagey idiot!

That's when things get really interesting--oh trust me. Trust me, trust me. So, so much to say. And show! Oh the pictures! You're welcome in advance.

Suffice to say: Drag. Glitter. Kangaroos. I KNOW!!!

I heart London: part 1

I blog about London a lot. Probably an abnormal amount, but, I can't help it. I can't quit London.

The affair began 20 years ago, grew into a steady crush and then, five years ago, exploded into a full on relationship. The most challenging, emotional, beautiful relationship of my life. And I do not say that in hyperbole. It really has been one constant in my life that no matter what, no matter my fears, my heartache, my anything, I can return to an alleyway I love, to a shop I frequent, to a bench I've sat and things make sense. Which is, all in all, just beautiful.

London holds a special place for so many reasons--my mom loved it; it was the first place I became a real grown up; it holds the West End; I have beloved friends who live there; some of my fondest memories are from there (some of my most painful memories too, but, not important!)--it is, my happy place.

This time, I was overjoyed to take my friend Susan to London--she hadn't been there in 9 years, so I wanted to take her to see ALL THE THINGS!

I got us tickets to see Once (and later found out that a friend of a friend is the wardrobe mistress, could've gotten free tickets, I don't want to talk about it), and of course, Les Mis. Because that is our favorite! I was prepared to take her to my favorite resturants, pubs and old haunts. I wanted to introduce her to my friends, to show her my favorite hidden coffee shop. To show her my old office, where this happened, where that happened, etc.

AND I DID.

Our first stop in London was Geale's, which is where I drag everyone. When I went to the city five years ago, it was where my professor and I had our working dinners regularly. It's more popular or touristy now that it was then, which annoys me, but, whatever, I won't stop going there.

Greetings from Notting Hill!

Then we hit up the Tower. As one does whilst in Londontown...

I left my trench on the plane and wasn't really upset till I saw this picture--it's so damn cute!! (yes, I've called BA, they don't have it. Sad)

Where I manned more cannons.

I had to fight off some kids for that picture!

My hair looked like this:

I mean, really?! I'm not trying to brag, but, daaaaaaang. Best hair day of my life wasted on dreary London!

And I posed like a douchetool.

Hello, let me show you my pink iphone, my David Yurman and my Burberry

If I hold my purse like this, I can pretend I am flexing my bicep!

Then it was off to one of my favorite places in the city--Soho! I love Soho. It's loud, it's crazy, it's busy, it's obnoxious. It's wonderful! There are several pubs/bars in the West End/Soho that I pink puffy heart., but my most favorite is Balans. Oh, my, Balans! I can't even explain how much I love Balans, but, it's the best. Open 22 (nope, not 24!) hours a day, a stone's throw from the Queen's, some of the best food and drink you will find.

After I bought all the clothing on Regent Street, we went to see Once, and then trekked across the street to Balans!!

Somehow I ended up at Ted Baker. I really don't know how it happened.....

Susan and me at The Phoenix Theatre to see Once. I cried. A lot. 

After we dried our tears and I was SO STRONG and did not go into the Artist Club (a great little place, but, we were hungry!), we ran across the street to meet my friend Alex for dessert and drinks at Balans where we laughed too much, ate too much, stayed out too late.

Blueberry lemon frozen calorie laden goodness

 ALL THE FOOD!!

I could tell you everything that's happening here, but, it's Fight Club. Just know I had eaten curry, Susan was drinking a p0rn star martini and we were dying of laughter!

 I forced friends to stay out past bedtime....

Me and one of my dearest friends, Alex, who, despite what it looks like here, really does love me. This is his "Ally made me come into Soho and I have to work tomorrow" face I think!

Because we were busy eating, drinking, chatting, and I hadn't seen Alex in months, we ended up staying out later than anticipated.....But! We ate before the late night menu changes (I've never actually been to Balans as early as we were there, ha!) so I missed my eggs con papas y chorizo. ARGGGG!! Even so, we got back to our hotel so late that the doors were locked. That was only mildly embarrassing. The oh so cute concierge had to let us in. Oops.

Then we acted like fools up and down the hotel hallway because I wanted a picture in my MOST FABULOUS TWIRLY DRESS.

This was the best we could do. Doesn't it look like Leisl's 16 Going on 17 dress? I want to wear it forever!

I literally never wanted to take that dress off and am busy plotting events where I can wear it. Apparently, I can't teach pure barre in it. Which is really just dumb.

We giggled ourselves silly, fell asleep and readied ourselves for a day with my expat friends and running amok all night long (all night....) including smuggling a bottle of wine out of a pub and getting hit on by a gay hipster. Who I actually kind of wish would text (he has my number) because he'd be a fabulous gay BFF.

Stay tuned!

(ps. I only broke these posts up because I didn't want y'all to have to read The Longest Post Ever) (well, that might be the post about Stoke-on-Trent, but, it will be worth it. Trust)

"The dream that you wish will come true"

We interrupt your regularly scheduled "Shabbs Made A Whole Lot O' Bad/Awesome/Hilarious Decisions in Europe" programing to share with you this (don't worry, the story about booze smuggling is coming up next!)

I haz the wallows. 

I tend to wallow when I get home from the UK. I tend to wallow when I am not thrown head first back into cuddles and snuggles with those I love (those I love happen to be in bloody England and or at the family ranch currently, I am in neither of those places). I tend to wallow after a major catch up with my actor bff--it's hard being so far away from someone who is my person--who brings with him "my people" and puts myself back together. I wallow when I can't talk to Molly about going to The Anchor and what happened on Eurovision. I wallow when I can't share a table at Balan's with my British best bud. I wallow because I think of "what if" and the "what could" and the "why not".

I wallow.

And I dream.

And I hope.

And although I am an Ariel, lesbihonest, I fancy myself a Cinderella--and I dream some more.

"No matter how your heart is grieving, If you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true..."

Maybe someday I will have the life I dream of when I am fast asleep. Maybe someday I will wake up to the future I've always longed for. Maybe one day, the dream that I wish, will come true.....

Until then, I shall wallow.

And also tell you about stealing booze from a pub and wearing/ruining $700 (I GOT THEM FOR A STEAL ON SALE I DIDN'T ACTUALLY PAY $700 CALM THE HECK DOWN) shoes in Stoke on Trent. Because, those stories are just funny! And, really, kind of awesome.