Can I get a Kauwfee?

My first day in America! Upstate in the town of Goshen.

A seven hour flight followed by a two hour drive from JFK through two of the five boroughs, Queens and then the Bronx. I glimpsed a sneak peak of the Manhattan skyline before we slipped out of the city and further into New York. The sky scrapers gave way for lush, rolling green fields. This is what suburbia looks like.

Jet lag reared it's ugly head... I managed to keep my eyes open for dinner with Dan's wonderful family before succumbing to the inevitable.

Morning came early. Half past four to be precise. We tried to dose before admitting defeat at six, and sitting on the porch with coffee, enjoying the day's first rays of sunshine.

It's very peaceful here. There are no fences between the houses, just wide open spaces and tall, tall trees. I'm on the look out for deer and skunks, but no luck as of yet.

We decided on a low-key, all American day.

We went to visit Dan's grandparents who live right down the street, where the smell of pancakes and bacon was already heavy and inviting in the air. The streets are lined with star spangled banners - 4th of July preparation or just general patriotism, I'm not sure.

Dan drove me through Goshen so I could get an idea of the place. It's a bit like being on the set of The Wonder Years, houses with wrap round porches and cheery mailboxes at the end of each drive. I haven't seen any little old ladies in rocking chairs yet but I hope it's only a matter of time.

It seems that going for coffee is the national pastime here, and me and the Osburn boys made a few caffeine stops throughout the day. Using my first American dollars was fairly thrilling - everything here is familiar but different, new and exciting.

Dinner was a traditional restaurant in a quaint little town called Sugar Loaf - a bit of an alternative to Woodstock - and we managed to fulfill two holiday goals on our very first day:

1)"I love your accent! Are you English?" - Cue a very excitable Brit.
2)We were served by a girl that used to be mean to Dan when he was younger. We indulged in a moment of Schadenfreude.

We're heading off to a lake for swimming and sunbathing and maybe a little hiking (I've been promised this just means walking) - It's ten past eight and 24 degrees. I could definitely get used to this.

Princess Jasmine

Introducing Princess Jasmine.

Princess Jasmine is my brand new pet. A pet all of my own, to love and to cherish from this day forth. Well, sort of.

Some of you may remember that 18 months ago, I awoke one Saturday morning to a tapping at my window. Somewhat alarmed, I peered cautiously through the blinds, to find the bright green eyes of a pedigree feline staring back at me. JOY OF JOYS! I thought. My pet has finally found me. Today is my special day.

Alas, it was not to be. I tempted Benjamin (it seemed to suit him) in through the window with about ten quids worth of ham. I quickly shut the window and trapped him - success, i thought. However Benjamin was feisty and not to be tamed. To cut a long story short, he bit me and i threw him out of the window. It hurt me more than him, believe me.

I thought that was the last I would see of Benjamin.

I was wrong.

Last week he returned, back at the window, but this time timid and thin, although still as beautiful as ever. Alex and I quickly stocked up on cat food and Benjamin seemed to fit right in, even staying the night on our sofa and purring contently on our laps. Resident cat expert Dan expressed doubt as to Benjamin's masculinity, and after a quick and slightly unpleasant google search, it was revealed that Benjamin was, in fact, a girl. Even better we thought. We renamed her Princess Jasmine, which seemed fitting to such a fine and exotic specimen.

We very much hope that Princess Jasmine is here to stay.

The Holiday Drawer

Daniel came face to face with the extent of my neurosis this morning, when he inadvertently came across my holiday drawer.

As anyone who has come within ten feet of me recently will know, I am New York bound on the 21st of June, for two whole, glorious weeks. Not only is this the first fortnight holiday I've had in an age, it is also a perfect excuse for me to get my organisational kicks. I have been in planning mode for a good three weeks now - comparing travel insurance deals, fretting over hotels, planning the much anticipated Sex and the City tour and, of course, panicking over my number 1. holiday fear - lost baggage.

Apart from delegating the odd menial task, I have managed to keep a large extent of my neurosis hidden. Until this morning. I do believe that Daniel's discovery of the holiday drawer has led him to see me in a new, and not entirely flattering light.

My holiday drawer (which, to add salt to the wound, was the draw I grudgingly gave him for his stuff) is now full of holiday essentials, which I have been hoarding for some length of time. Suncreams, toothbrush - holiday size shampoos, shower gels etc. The crowning glory? The holiday documents folder. Divided into alphabetised sections and including a blow by blow itinerary of our trip.

I learnt a lesson this morning. MUST GET A LOCK FOR THE HOLIDAY DRAWER.

Glamour Girls

Last night saw London's Berkeley Square transformed for summer's hottest ticket, the Glamour Women of the Year Awards 2010 - and it truly was a veritable fest of glamour and gorgeousness, eccentricity and egos of epic proportions.

Arriving to the inevitable anti-pap (emerging from a blacked-out vehicle to a hundred very disappointed photographers - some of whom actually sighed), we skipped in and made the most of the Laurent Perrier on tap - while partaking in the mandatory celeb spotting - Jason Lewis (SATC's Smith), David Gandy, Cheryl Cole (a vision of doll-like perfection) and Florence Welsh (minus her machine) being amongst my personal favourites.

After mingling and canape scoffing we took our seats for the awards and dined on sea bass, scallops and a knickerbockerglory (left untouched by 95% of female guests), before James Corden kicked off proceedings. Highlights included the very hilarious Rob Brydon and Michael McIntyre, with the low light shining determinedly on Patrick Stewart who took on Corden and lost... badly. See the second most read story on the BBC news website for further car crash details.

Two afterparties, three treasure chests, one stuffed goody bag and some new and entirely inappropriate friendships later I headed back to my bed in Brixton, and the reality of the impending working day began to set in... My desk is a less than glamorous place to be right now.

Milling and mingling before the awards

Shameless posing

Host for the evening James Corden and the very hilarious Michael McIntyre

The extraordinary Florence

Piers Morgan and Amanda Holden, radiating smugness and telling bad jokes

Zoe Saldana - less recognisable minus Avatar Blue body paint

National treasure, our Chezza (who thanked her dentist in her acceptance speech)

Supermodel David Gandy kept badgering us for a photo... seemed rude to say no.