Our first breakfast in our new flat, after realising that we hadn’t yet bought any bowls
Something pretty big happened this weekend, and it’s something I guess I’m sort of still coming to terms with.
I moved in with a boy.
And not just any boy either – one I’m quite fond of. Like, really fond of.
It’s a big step, but one we’ve been actually talking about for over a year; it’s just taken us a while to actually do it. Partially to blame for the delay was the location – I worked in one part of the country while Michael worked in another (these days our offices are only a few tube stops apart).
Also to blame was the headache of finding somewhere decent that didn’t cost the earth: somewhere that didn’t have extortionate up-front fees, wasn’t in a horrendous part of London and wasn’t so foul that even rats would question residing there. Neither of us were in any big rush to move out of our parents’ homes, either, where the rent was cheap, the meals came cooked, and the heating and water bills were covered.
But there does come a time when you get fed up of being the ones that have to leave the party early to make the monumentally long journey home, and the ones stood on the platform at 7 o’clock in the morning waiting for a train that is running late, again.
And while we are lucky to have two sets of parents who didn’t mind us both hovering around the house at the weekends, constantly saying “mine or yours?”, when all we really wanted was our own space, was becoming a little tiresome, too.
A pretty cool-looking tower
Last Friday, Michael and I hopped on a 7.01 Eurostar and headed off to Paris for a five-day trip, something we’d been looking forward to since we’d arranged it last October.
To say I had been excited about our Parisian holiday would be a mild understatement – I mean, I’d installed a countdown app on my phone the minute I’d found out we were going, and driven my colleagues and friends mad for the best part of nine months with tales of what we’d do when we eventually got there.
Finally, the time had arrived! And it was so worth the wait, because it was more than we could have ever hoped for. Here are just a few highlights.
#1 The sights
The Louvre, the world’s largest museum
We got stuck into all the proper touristy stuff as soon as we arrived – from the Eiffel Tower (obviously), to Sainte-Chapelle, Arc de Triomphe, and lots, lots more. There’s a lot of these to tick off in Paris, and I think our five-day visit was just the right amount of time to get most of the big ones in.
The thing to bear in mind is that there’s obviously huge numbers of tourists at most times of the day – as is the case with any enormously famous landmark – which means that to get inside anywhere involves at least some queuing (but we Brits are quite good at that). Getting there first thing in the morning is advisable, but because we’re lazy we didn’t quite manage the early starts… not even once. Hey, we were on holiday! View Post
At lunch time today I finished a book for the first time in about two and a half years, and I couldn’t have been happier. I practically skipped back to the office.
And while this might sound pathetic, and calls me out as being probably one of the worst literature graduates of all time, I really couldn’t care less. BECAUSE I FINISHED A BOOK.
The book in question was Modern Romance by Aziz Ansari, best described as a funny, fascinating insight into the 21st century dating scene – a bit like his Netflix show, Master of None. Modern Romance is packed with hilarious quips, lots of food chat, surprising stats, graphs and stories contributed by everyday, ordinary people from all over the world. It covers everything from how dating has changed and the impact technology has had on modern romance, to finding our soulmates, sexting, open relationships, and cheating… and it’s super interesting.
A traditional afternoon tea is probably as quintessentially-British as you can get: crumbly sweet treats, pots filled to the spout with hot liquid gold, and the charming “Englishness” of feeling a necessity to point one’s pinky to the ceiling when pulling a cup to your lips. Add to this a Sherlock Holmes twist with the promise of “a mystifying selection of culinary rarities”, and you essentially have an amalgamation of James Bond, cricket, and Her Majesty the Queen.
The Sherlock Holmes Afternoon Tea is just one of the three English Classics, Reinvented experiences now offered by St James’ Court, A Taj Hotel, London – launched alongside a bespoke, limited edition cover design of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s classic.
Season two of Emmy-winning show, Master of None hit Netflix last Friday, and like a shameless superfan I managed to get through all ten episodes in just three days – relieved that season one’s follow-up had not just met, but exceeded my expectations a bucket load.
Master of None tells the story of Dev (played by Parks & Rec’s Aziz Ansari), an Indian-American actor who lives in New York. And like any single-and-ready-to-mingle human living in 2017, we see Dev regularly getting screwed over by the complexity and horrors of 21st century dating – from the agony of guessing how many emojis to put in a flirty text, to the dread of being “ghosted” by someone you really like. Add to this friendship debacles, work drama, odd and embarrassing parents, the stunning NY location and a brilliant script, and you’ve got yourself a pretty great show.
If you’re new to Master of None but fancy giving it a watch, I’d recommend that you exit this post sharpish until you’re at least up to speed with at least the first season. I really wouldn’t want to ruin it for you, but (in spite of my attempts) I can’t guarantee that this post is completely spoiler-free (sorry).
If you’re already a fan, or just don’t care that much, then obviously read away! I’d love to get your thoughts and opinions, too – just leave me a comment on social media or in the little box below.
So, why IS Master of None the best show on Netflix at the moment?