It was rainy. It was cold. The people were obsessed with fashion. And drink. And the men were sexist. And that's putting it mildly.
I got one free night. I walked around trying to take pictures. It was rainy. Okay, it was a torrential downpour. But as we all know, Mr. Zips likes foggy photos. Here's a tribute:
On my one free night I walked around (and around and around) in the rain. Which might account for how exhausted and sick I've felt since then.Or maybe that's because of the massive amounts of wine I drank the following night.
Kalesy tried to party with the big boys. Kalesy failed miserably.
I didn't do anything too stupid, unless I was supposed to want the Scottish salesguy to whip his dick out and stick it on the table while we were all eating. But I don't think so....
I retired back to my room and called Mr. Zips, drunken and sad, bemoaning the fact that women are never just loved for their brains.
This feels slightly ironic coming from someone who was obsessing prior to departure about whether or not she'd be able to work out whilst travelling abroad. But at least I recognize the irony.
Now I'm back Stateside and have been since Saturday. So why do I feel like there's still 20 pounds of cotton shoved into my head? Eight p.m. hits and I am "So very ti ti" as the Zips Family would say. Not sure when I can stop blaming jet lag and just cough it up to the fact that I've been going nonstop for several weeks with no end in sight.
Of course, the one amazing thing is that Karl Rove resigned while I was abroad. You haven't lived 'till you've seen Kalesy doing the HappyHappyJoyJoy dance in a hotel room in Dublin, alone, with only Sky News to keep her company.
