Ahh! I'm so excited! Designers! Designers! Designers!

C was looking for things to do in London tonight and she's found the Grand Designs Live Show on during the 8th-10th of June!! I'm so excited! I am definitely going to go, and I'm definitely going to try and book some time with the BIDA interior designers one-on-one appointments. I am SO excited!

Grand Designs is a show on Channel 4 and More 4 showcasing some amazing houses, and their owners, whose houses are from an architectual and design point of view, pretty amazing. One house, for example, was build one a corner, built with not a single window facing out the street,. However, on the inside, the house was designed around a giant chestnut tree, so one entire wall was a giant curve, using the tree as it's mid point. This section was made entirely of glass walls/doors that could be slid, so as to pretty much open the entire ground floor. And because the outside walls were completely secure, the house, despite being half built with glass, was completely private. My description does not do it justice, so here is the link. This has to have been one of my favorite houses from all of the series. Even if the owners were a bit mad...

I am constantly in awe of the people on these shows, and their guts and bollocks to be able to make such bold and beautiful statements with their houses. And since I've just moved into my first flat (which btw looks heaps nicer now than it did a few weeks ago when I posted my distress at living in a newly moved in tip), I now want to have the bollocks myself to be able to make bold design gestures, rather than just playing it safe.

Anyway, so I am uber excited about being able to go to this show. It also means another night of wanting to go to bed early has gone completely down the pan, as I have now spent the last hour looking up design blogs and websites. Some of note, that are either my favorites, that I visit daily, or ones that I am sure I will start going to are:

• http://www.designsponge.blogspot.com fantastic site! I find so many cool things I can not afford here, but annoyingly most of the things are from the US so are harder to get here in ol' blighty
  
• apartmenttherapy.com - I have loved their smallest, coolest apartement competition. Loved with a capital L. So many cool places, and I've discovered my secret superhero power: to be able to spot Ikea furniture from thousands of miles away! Not as useful as being able to fly but still, I'm proud.
  
• decor8.blogspot.com Just found this a few days ago. The stationary competition has definitely caught my eye, since I am a big fan of paper and all it's parephenalia... Once on a road trip through North France, my friends were less than impressed when I wanted to take a detour to go to the Paper Museum. Why anyone wouldn't want to go to a museum dedicated to the art of making paper I simply cannot understand, but in the end, we didn't go because shouting won the day. And I wasn't loud enough.
  
• livingetc.com YAY! Finally a house/design magazine based in the UK I can look at on the web! There are loads of really good american ones, but again, nice to look at, can't buy anything though...
  
• designersguild.com/ I love their wallpaper!! AND their from the UK! Hurrah!

So that's my list of design sites I'm currently obsessed with. If only I could get enough time during my working day to look at them more often, rather than having to wait until 1am to do so, that'd be perfect.

First post as a Brit

Yes, here it is. My first post as an Aussie-Brit (sorry, I just can't get myself to say my nationality without sticking "aussie" in there first).

I've been insanely busy for the last week, which is not much of an excuse for my slackness with my blogging, but it has meant that this is the first time in 7 days I've managed to get time to sit down and write. This mostly has to do with my ruddy job. Stupid salary paying job. Expecting me to actually work for a living. Bastards.

The Citizenship ceremony:According to the website, the British citizenship ceremony is supposed to be something to mark the occasion of becoming British with a memorable event. This meant that we all had to get dressed up, go to the local town hall, and stand in front of which ever mayor (past or present) turned up, who came into the main room, all dressed in her ceremonial robes. The ex-mayor who presided over us was this woman so short and small I actually thought she was a midget. Turns out, it was a bit deceiving because the man in front of her, holding her Mayrol stick (used for changing the TV channels or for poking the people pealing her grapes I'm guess) was such a massive circus freak of a giant, it made this petite woman look look like a 3 child. I almost burst out laughing when I saw her. Not very stoic and British of me. After some speeches, we all had to individually say our names, and swear the oath to "give my loyalty to the United Kingdom" and to Liz. Next came the "singing" of the national anthem (well, I say "singing" in the loosest possibly term. Almost everyone mumbled their way through it, except for the comedy duo act of Calv and Dr D, who were on the balcony yelping their guts out, albeit slightly off key. I've been told that singing God Save The Queen without having your arms raised in the arm, excepting to see football players (be it rugby or soccer) try to murder each other and screaming "COME ON EN-GER-LAND!" afterwards is very strange indeed).

The whole thing was actually really fun. Calv, Dr D and C came to watch me take the oath so I can now go and live in France if I want without need of any visas. It was very weird, but everyone who was there, all 40 or so of us, were all grinning from ear to ear. I guess we all must have been thinking about the hard slog we had to endure for 5 years to get to this point, and if you've been here so long, you must have embraced some of the country (heck, they make you pass a "Life in the UK" test before you can even apply to check you know something about Britain) so by standing in that room, you were saying you too wanted to be part of it .

During the ceremony, I am ashamed to admit, but at one point I almost cried. I found that my mind started to wander, and I started to think about how long it had been since I'd lived in Sydney, and about everyone I left behind, especially my mum and dad, and what sort of life I could have had back home. The two options I think would have been still living with my folks, without much having changed since I was 21, or married, squeezing out sprogs. Would I have been happier? Who knows. What I do know is that I'm glad I stuck it out, because this is what I'd wanted from the moment I realised that my sponshorship lead straight to that little maroon passport at the end of it all. So all the homesickness, and missing friends and family, and leaving everything familiar I guess has been worth it. Plus, I do have an amazing network of people around me, which has seriously kept me sane (though barely!) for the last almost 2190 days in England.

As for my gift: I've been asked about this already. No, to my great disappointment I did not get condoms or a AK-47, which I think really would have captured the spirit of South East London. No instead I got this delightful passport holder, emblazoned with the Southwark Councils crest, and a little "Southwark" on the bottom. Just in case immigration in some foreign country ever wanted to exactly where in London I'm from. I'm actually a bit disappointed. Not that at this point in time I'm ever going to need one, but you know, a pregnancy test with "Your Courtesy of Southwark Council" would have been more apt for the area...

And finally, after the ceremony the two most hilarious, classic, only in Britain, racist things happened, (which are actually quite funny):

1) The compair was congratulating us all, and asking how we all feel. Then he said "OK, so now
you're all British, you have to go home and start eating roast beef, and roast spuds, and Yorkshire puddings. Remember, that means no more peas and rice OK!"
2) When I went to hand in my form to the photographer so he could send my pics back of me shaking the ex-mayors hand, he asked me:

"ok, you're the girl from New Zealand right?"
"no, I'm Australian" (me thinking 'there weren't even any New Zealanders at the ceremony!')
"Oh, that's right. Ok, I'm just going to write something on your form down, you know, just to help me remember who you are, and make sure I send you the correct photo"
"Um ok"

He, with a perfectly straight face, writes down: Australian. Chinese Looking.

For some reason, that made me laugh my arse off. Not in the least because I don't even look Chinese... What a welcome to Britain eh.

Britishness. 11 hours and counting.

Tonight is my last night as a citizen of only 1 country. Tomorrow at 1pm, I will be finally swearing an oath to Queen and country (how very James Bond), and becoming British. Right after the ceremony, I intend to get my British passport and standard issue, possibly Nike, track suit, obviously in bright pink (ooh sexy). I then intened to quit my job and start collecting my benefit cheques which everyone's tax money is paying for, start wearing Burberry with some real conviction, talk about those f’in imigrants comin’ to ma country and takin’ our bleedin’ jobs, and spend my first giro cheque. Also, according to the press, as a British woman, I should be drinking 110 units of alcohol a week, get into fist fights with other women, try to smash someone's face with a bottle and get arrested for GBH.

Hurrah! What exciting things to look forward to eh!

Tomorrow, I have to stand infront of some official at the local town hall. I have to swear an oath to the Queen (which I've already done just by being born in Australia for fucks sake). I get a little certificate (I'm tempted to hang it in the toilet, because, heck, everyone will see it then won't they?), get my photo taken, and get a gift whose origin is "local to the region". Now since I'm swearing allegience to Liz in Peckham Town Hall, I've been trying to think what this gift could be. Not a bowler hat I'm thinking. Since Peckham is in South London (pronounced "sauff london"), and it's all a bit dodge here, I'm torn between expecting one of the following: velour track suit, contraceptives or a baby pram.

Christ, I can't believe tomorrow I will be British. I've only been waiting for this for the last 5 years now, and now that it's less than 12 hours away, I kindof feel a bit, well, aprehensive about it. It's not that I'm unhappy to have made my decision to stay here, but it's not without some guilt and pain at leaving my friends, family, but mostly my parents, thousands of miles away, for such a long time. It's especially wierd since percurment of British citizenship has been my main reason for staying. And now that I've got it, it's just so, well, wierd. Like wishing for Christmas as kid, only to find that it's infact just another day, but with more food and shouting.

I guess all in all I'm happy about this. It's what I've said I've wanted, and now I've got it. I guess I just don't know what I'm supposed to want next... I suppose there's nothing else for it really. I'll just have to now start wanting a manor in the country, long to wear flat caps, breed horses and start fox hunting with hounds. Tally-ho old chaps.

Typing on a waffle

Just a quick post because I love this, which I found on slashfood.com today. It's fantastic! Chris Domino has created a waffle iron in the shape of a keyboard. This must be a sure fire way to be able to lure your geek away from their pc, even for only a few moments over breakfast, without them getting teary.

Truly random.

Friday Moment of Zen: A shout out to the big fella's boat

Last night we finally got broadband!!! It's taken over a month for BT to fuck about with out phone line, and then another 10 days for the broadband company to set it up. (BTW, I absolutely detest BT now. They fucked me around for 2 weeks straight, trying to get my old number connected to my new house. Everyday they would promise me that the phone would be connected by that evening, and every day I would have to call up and say "well you know what? Still no dial tone". I hope I never have to speak to someone there again, because frankly, they are truly rubbish).

Anyway, I digress. Now having gotten broadband connected to my house I tried to set it up last night, obviously to no avail because I didn't have any of the settings for the router or modem and also because, lets face it, I'm really not that much of a techinally minded geek who can set up home networks or fix media pc's. So The Ex-Flatmate had to get waken up at 7am Sydney time to help me through it, and give me all the old settings. In order to pay him back, in non monetary terms, for the hour international call last night, I'm going to post this link of where the boat with all his gaff (his bike, guitar, nerd books, porn) currently is in the world. At this precise moment, the CMA GCM Verlaine, call sign DASO, is just south of Sri Lanka. Seeing as he packed everything off about 7 weeks ago, at this rate, he should get his stuff, I dunno, sometime in the next year?

There you go, kindof zen like. Whilst none of us are on holiday, at least The Ex-Flatmates porn is taking a nice lesiurely cruise around the Maldives.

The name's Girl. SuperNerd Girl

Look at my cape! Watch me soar through Nerdville!

I am a nerd today because in order to do some testing for a client, for code which we'd written about a year ago, I needed to have access to a private method. Which I didn't have. In order to do this, I was shown the hacker ways of reflection today, to make my test class get around Java's security. Hell yeah, for that brief 10 minutes of coding, I was just like Angelina Jolie in that flick Hackers.

Well, just like except, obviously I actually eat food, so I have more body flab than Ms Jolie. I also don't have really cool clothes, don't have collagen enhanced lips, and my handle isn't anything nearly dangerous sounding as "Acid Burn". Oh, and I haven't adopted any kids from random Asian countries, I'm not going out with Brad Pitt. And yes, yes, I know I wasn't trying to foil an evil computer genius, or hide from the Secret service, but I was trying to work out why there is a really random bug in my code, using a hacky technique.

Other than all those things, honestly, you couldn't tell her and me apart. We could have been the same person.

Plus, I was more hard core because we didn't have any crap graphics to get through the security settings in my code. All java baby. Mostly run through Linux. Oh yeah. Nerd me up.

Your Friday Moment of Zen: Watching Time Go By - Literally

I've not done one of these in ages, but these really are zen like, and it kindof fits with a current feeling I have that time is slowly slipping by my fingers, PLUS today I found the bizarest site every, called cheddarvision.tv, where you can watch a block of cheddar ripen. In real time. Seriously.

So I started searching for some timelapse videos and these are some very, very cool ones:

This one, a whole year in time lapse, was taken by positioning a camera on a balcony, and taking a picture every five minutes for over a year. Then, selecting the bset 20 per day, the timelapse movie was made. It's really well done:



This one, taken during a thunderstorm, is also very cool. I love the way the clouds roll over the sky.



But this one is my favorite: a time lapse movie of a moon rise, which is just amazing.




Insanely zen like. Enjoy!

Travels in China: The Great Wall

I am still in awe of the Great Wall of China. To be honest, everyday so far I keep thinking I am in awe of something here.

The Great Wall of China, started by the Qin Dynasty, and continued on until the Ming, was one of the largest man made constructions in the world, and frankly, is worth the 9 hour flight from London to see.

What struck me as amazing was just the sheer size of it. As you get up on the wall, you can see it stretching out to the horizon, unfaltering, and amazing. Myself and another guy, Sonny, were the only 2 people to climb the highest point of the wall (admittedly, my competitive streak meant that I practically ran up the wall to get there before anyone else in my tour, because, well, that's the girl that I am). Once up there, I was kindof shocked to see that there was a gift stand, and a monument stating this is the highest point of the wall, and a dude ready to take your picture next to it, obviously for a price. I don't know why I was surprised, since I'd an hour earlier gotten myself a skimmed milk cappuccino from the freakin Starbucks opposite the Great Wall's tourist entry spot.... hmmmm... when the very essence of all things capitalist, like Starbucks, makes it into heartland communist China, I think they might as well sell of all their governmental assets and just proclaim themselves as a capitalist state.

Others might disagree I suppose.

Travels in China: Beijing Day 2: My Idea of Heaven

My second day in Beijing - from the endless posts that I write, but forget to actually, you know, post!


Today we visited Tianamen Square - and in case you're wondering, yes someone in the group (no that wasn't me) asked where precisely the tanks tried to kill the university protester. Our tour guide told us in China they've never seen that footage (not surprisingly) and so she didn't know too much about it.

Visiting the Emporers Forbidden City was pretty amazing. Looking at the private rooms, squares and gardens, it's amazing to imagine that I'm standing in the very same spots as so many emperors who would never have imagined that the China of today would be the China of their future.

My idea of heaven: well that was 3 things:

1) The Summer Palace, where the last Dowager Empress of China spent 10 months of the year. It was so beautiful, that I was completely blown away. I could have spent hours there.

2) We went to dinner at a famous Peking Duck restaurant (we are in Peking after all), and there seemed to be an endless supply of beer, duck, pancakes, and my table was full of middle aged men and women, watching their cholesterol. Hurrah! I'm fully embracing "holiday mode" and normal food intake has been completely suspended until I get back. The fact that I can actually feel the fat starting to join up different parts of my body so that I resemble more of a ball like shape hasn't quite stopped me yet... not quite...

3) The company that my mum has been working with to help organise this tour sent us two ladies to come and give me and my mum massages in our rooms. And no, these were not "ladies" of that sort, just two, very friendly, middle aged women, whose hands were able to relieve tension in my poor old body. I've had loads of massages before, but I've never communicated with any of my masseuses as much as I did with these two women. Neither one spoke much English, so it was all through body language and pigeon English/Mandarin. I had bought a little Mandarin-English phrase book, and the fact that I could work out they were saying "fangsong" (relax), and how to say "we're walking the Great Wall of China tomorrow" more than made up for the 12 Euros I spent on it.

Another fabulous day in China all in all.

Most embarrassing moments: None yet - looking exceedingly chubby in my photos isn't pleasing me.

Best Moment: It's a toss up between standing on the edge of the man made lake, that's shaped like a peach, looking out on to the temples on the other side at the Summer Palace, and at dinner realising with increasing joy that no one else wanted any more duck and it could be mine! All mine!! Tricky.. I'll post some pictures very soon.

They should hang their heads in shame

There are many things I'm proud of in Australia. Lamingtons. Anzacs. Winning The Ashes. Stuff.

This however, is not one of them.

A show in Oz, called The Chaser, did an experiment to see what happens if you try to video the Sydney Harbour Bridge and a nuclear reactor that produces medical isotopes. If you're dressed like a clichéd Arab, you get the federal cops on you. If you're dressed like an American tourist, they give you instructions on how to get in the nuclear facility.

This is definitely not something I'm proud of. Racial profiling really does suck.



Sorry, I'm in a filthy mood today. All day I've been picked on, and listening to Amelie doesn't help. Hmmm.

China - First days in Beijing

From the backlog of posts that I write up, but forget to post: My first few days in Beijing

Yesterday, I arrived for the first time to the People's Republic of China. My folks are travel agents, so my mum, all on her own, organised an 11 day tour of China, taking in Beijing, Xian and Shanghai. I'm so amazingly proud of her, because she's at an age where she should seriously be retiring, and spending her time growing orchids, travelling, flitting away all of my inheritance and basically enjoying herself. Instead, she's still finding time to organise whole new ventures, like tours in China - working out where to go, deciding on the hotels, and doing everything you need to do to make sure people enjoy themselves on tour. I dunno, I guess I was just really proud of her.

We arrived yesterday, a day ahead of everyone else in the tour, and were taken around by the travel agency that working with my mum. Our first meal was hosted by the head of the company, and we had possibly one of the best chinese meals I've had in my life. It was what amazing - like nothing I've had before... One of the travel agents who joined us was this stick thin girl who barely ate anything. She'd just watch everyone eat, pick a tiny piece of vegetable or fish, leave it on her bowl, move it around a bit, and finally, after she'd was absolutely sure she'd used up the same amount of calories that tiny piece of lettuce would be poisoning her body with, she'd eat it. GRRR! This annoyed me no end, because here she sat infront me me - she was a living, breating reminder that just because I was on holiday, it did not mean that normal service should be suspended, and it did not entitle me to put whatever food or drink that passed in front of me straight into in my gob. Thankfully, my better senses took note of that reminder, and promptly chucked it out the window, and I happily and greedily pigged out. Something that would pretty much happen at every meal for the next 11 days!

Things that have surpised me so far:

1. Capitalism & Modernity: What has really surprised me about Beijing is how modern it is. Literally 5 mins walk from our hotel are loads of shopping malls, selling loads of western brands like Gucci, Prada, Esprit... I'm not sure what I was expecting, but huge shrines to capatalism in a communist country wasn't really it...
2. Lack of pollution: From what I've been told, I was expecting to be walking around in a constant pea soup thick fog of pollution from the chemical and metal work factories. Surprisingly though, it's been amazingly clear, with some of the blueset skies I've seen. Our tour guide says that the government has been trying to change because of the Olympics, and now soon some unlucky citizens in towns outside of Beijing will be looking after those factories, as well as their pollution..
   
3. Cold: Because I was moving house up until the day of my trip to China, I packed in a real half arsed way - just throwing in any old crap, being told that China was ahot and muggy. Hot my arse. I've arrived here to 6 degree weather, and have spent all day freezing my preverbial off. I'm hoping it gets warmer cuase I don't want to be wearing the same black jumper every day of my holiday... and I don't think that the 4 light summer skirts will do me much good...
   

Our first day in Communist China
Our first full day has been spent looking around the Hu Tong area, which is one of the last old areas of Beijing. Driving around on rickshaws, looking at the buildings which used to belong to Emporers officials, was really cool. Strangely, we ended up going into someone's actual house, so we can see that these buildings, some of which are over 200 hundred years on, passed from generation to generation (well, until the reforms in 1948) are still used today. What really made me smile was the fact that in 180 year old house we went to visit, the son had loads of football posters on the walls - one of which had the beautiful Thierry Henry on it. Again, this is not what I was expecting at all. It was a definite kick to the nuts of my preconception of what modern communist China is. No-one is wearing blue boiler suits. No one was demonstrating, with tanks rolling them over. Very few bicycles. To be honest, it looks just like any other modern capital. Am I disapointed? Well, possibly. But not enough to wish it was anything else but what it is..

Most Uncomfortable Moments:
This was going to be a dead cert this afternoon, but now... it's a possible toss up between these two:

1. My mid 60 year old mum saying to me "gee, there are lots of quite good looking guys around in Beijing aren't there?"
2. Me turning on the tv this evening, with my mum sitting in the room. In the day time, when the tv gets turned on, it displays a picture of the hotel. In the evening though, that little picture turns into a preview of the hard core porn that you can pay for. And embarrasingly, I couldn't get the remote control to change the channgel, no matter how hard I mashed every button on it. And if you think I'm joking, and was actually wanting to watch the porn, then no - hard core porn + your mum in the room does NOT enduce any good time feelings. Eeek

Mum asking me about hot guys. Mum watching me trying to turn off the porn... hmmm tricky.

Humph

People constantly bring goodies from their holidays into our kitchen at work, for everyone to enjoy, and to show off the fact they've been on holiday, and not in our damned office. Today, someone brought in nougat and biscuits.

When I went this afternoon to try my first bit of nougat, someone walked into the kitchen just as I was about to put a piece in my mouth, and said "You know the first place that's going to don't you? Straight to your hips".

Humph... I know I'm carrying a little bit of holiday weight, but honestly...

I've got curtains!

On the running theme of my house, I've finally got curtains in my living room! (Naturally from ikea) I forgot to bring my camera in today, so I can't post the pictures of my long, flowing, white cotton curtains that are proudly hanging up in my lounge room. I desperatley wanted white indian silk curtains, that will catch the light in a lovely way, but for neither love nor money can I find them. Anywhere. Every other colour or type of silk. Just not the exact one I want. I know, I know - I should only buy something if it's exactly what I want, but I don't want to have an airline blanket hanging from my window in my front room 1000 billion times more than I want my perfect silk curtains, so I've decided to compromise for now. Compromise. That's a concept that's very much against my normal princess nature.

In the last 3 days we've also got all the shelves on my cabinet up, sporting some lovely books and an electric drill, plus a working phone line (yay! I can now get broadband installed. Life without the internet in your own home is a life I don't want to live every again).

3 jobs done, 20,574 more to do.

I'm currently obssessed with the apartment therapy's smallest coolest apartment competition. I love looking at other people's houses and seeing what they've done, especially when those people don't furnish their entire houses with that faux country farm style, so popular in magazines and diy shows. I have so many big ideas for my house, yet when I get home the only energy that I can muster seems to come to me in that perfect 2 hour slot between 10pm and midnight.

Annoyingly, since moving into my new flat, I've found myself obssessed with checking to see if the doors are locked. Usually, just as I'm about to fall asleep, I start to worry that the doors are in fact unlocked, allowing some chav to just walk into my flat, and brain us all with a shovel. Then of course that plays on my mind in my half asleep and dopey state, until I have to get up and check all the doors. And if I've only checked one door, and go back to bed, chances are I will start wondering about the other door has been locked, even though I know I locked it when I came home and no one else has gone through the door. Then up I get again, rapidly becoming more awake, go and check the second door, and trundle back to bed. Every single night I go through this moronic ritual. Every night. I'm hoping that this phase of paranoia is in fact a passing one, and that I won't end up, as I've always worried about, a paralysed-with-fear recluse, who pushes all the heavy furniture up against the doors to feel slightly safe in her own "castle".

Damned House

So, we've moved in. In fact, we've now been living here in my new flat for almost a month now..

So far, it's been going pretty well, except for the fact that we seem to be living in a constant state of "we've just been hit by a junk exploding bomb". I seem to be in a constant state of either: moving stuff, cleaning stuff, buying flat packed furniture to put stuff in, putting together said pieces of furniture, or standing back and watching the never ending circus of people try to fix my washing machine.

Below is the before and after shots of my house: The "before" shots are from the estate agent's brochure. The "after" shots are from last night:

Dining Area Before:



Dining Area After:



Kitchen Before:



Kitchen After:




Desk Area Before:



Desk Area After:

Living Area Before:


Living Area After:

I believe the technical term is "lived in".

I feel so embarrased having people round. On Sunday, Dr D and Calv brought our friend D around. I kept seeing their eyes look at all the piles of books, and crap, and clothes (all for good will, not just in a pile cause I feel like it), and I just felt, well, ashamed. At the time, pieces of an ikea cabinet where on the floor, which was taking C and I about 2 hours to assemble (when did Ikea furniture turn from flat packed easiness to requiring Jesus like carpentry skills?).

Brochure Version:
Our Version:
Speaking of Ikea, I also feel kindof ashamed that so much of my furniture seems to have come from there... I mean, it's not a like page 7 of the Ikea magazine or anything. For example, there aren't any fresh faced young couples, looking lovingly at their well behaved toddlers, playing on the floor, with their billy cabinets, in beech of course, proudly displaying pictures of them fishing, and 18 volumes of Tolstoy on the shelves. But I do seem to have aquired, over the years, and awful lot of Swedish furniture. Which is another cause of shame in my eyes... A friend of mine will wait until he's got exactly what he wants, spending weeks going from designer boutique to designer boutique, looking for one offs, like proper grown ups wanting to make their house look stylish and beautiful. I want my house to be beautiful too, but I don't fancy waiting for years to get there. Clearly I've been fully indoctrinated in the "instant satisfaction" society we live in. But still... I'd love to spend years scouring flee markets and tiny shops for the exact right one off pieces of furniture. Or at the very least, I'd like to buy stuff from Habitat. If only I could afford it.

So that's where my house is at the moment. My bedroom is sporting a very minimal, almost, japanese in nature look, with very little furniture in it. Well, what it lacks in furniture, it more than makes up for in big black garbage bags full of linen and clothes, piled on top of each other on the floor because I have no where to put them yet... The living room has a half built cabinet, and books, dvds, cds, and general junk, all around the floor in piles (organised piles darling, we aren't complete animals yet). The bathroom doesn't as of yet have a toilet roll holder, and the little nook where a desk will one day reside, is currently diplaying a lovely post modern installation, which I like to call "crap load of boxes, waiting to be recyled".

Home owner bliss/Home owner hell. Not sure which yet.

Egg-tastic

Li, from veganstore.co.uk fame (ethical food at very reasonable prices, shipped all over the world, for your guilt free pleasure), very kindly donated to our poor IT firm 13 delicious organic Green & Blacks easter eggs today! The squeel of delight that came out of us when we opened the box was deafening, and as you can see from these pics, that's alot of chocolate to get through.

Funnily though, of the 13 boxes that arrived 4 hours ago, only 5 seem to be left, meaning that there are going to be many people in our office who are about to contract type 2 diabetes.

Despite the amount of chub I've put on in China, that hasn't seemed to deter me from stuffing my face with chocolate today (not 8 boxes worth of chocolate mind you, I'm not an animal).

Obviously the empty boxes will soon join the "wall" between Dr D's desk and myself, to help keep the peace in the office...

Thanks Li! You truly are a superstar.

Back from everywhere

Holy crap. It's been ages since I've updated this blog.

In the last month the following has happened:

• FOP week came
• FOP week went - some brilliant meals, and more booze than I like to care to remember.... including 1/2 a bottle of some random italian liquer that Li and I polished off, after a night of wine, cocktails and dancing....
  
• I completed on my flat
• I moved into my flat, a week earlier than anticipated because I was too hungover from the Italian liquer FOP night to argue with everyone. To be fair, it was the best thing I could have done because the brilliant friends all pitched in and helped, like the fabulous people they are.
• The Flatmate fucked off back to oz.
• Any sadness I might have felt for his leaving, quickly disappeared when I realise how much crap he left in the flat for me to sort out!
• I went on an 11 day holiday in China. I would have blogged whilst away but had no internet access. I ate myself stupid, which has led to comments when I got back like "Well, there's something on the back of your coat, but you won't be able to see it because you're arse is so big now" - quote Dr D, 2007.
• C moved into my flat, and now we are living in domestic harmony. We've had our first, very domestic phone call where I asked her what time she was home, and what she wanted for dinner.

I've got entries for all these random events, which I will sort out over the weekend, and post next week. Watch this space.

Could anything else go wrong?

I asked the Flatmate to go pick up the keys for my new place this afternoon at 5pm. I was wondering why he was only leaving the house at 10 past 5, but heck, I don't want to be accused of "reminding" him about his time keeping techiniques, so I was keeping my trap shut.

So on the phone to him just now, he's just said "ok I'm on a bus on the way to your place"
Me: "My place? Why? You're supposed to go to Canary Wharf!"
The Flatmate: "Canary Wharf? Why?"
Me: "You're getting them from the estate agents"
The Flatmate: "What? I thought I was getting them from your flat? I was just about to knock on their door and ask for the keys"
Me: "What the hell would you do that for? I said the estate agents! That's why you could get them at lunch time when you were in Canary Fucking Wharf"
The Flatmate: "Oh... bugger eh".


For fucks sake. Can anything go smoothly with this fucking house?

End of week insults

Dr D is texting a "girl" on his phone, smiling his little "ooh baby" smile, and looking quite smug.

Me: "Oh look at you, with the big grin, trying to look all intelligent now"
Dr D: "I don't have to try to look intelligent, it's a given. So there lower IQ girl, since mine is higher than yours"
Me: "Only by 1 point you know"
Dr D: "Yeah but a point's a point, and I'm smarter so nyer".

What a week

There has just been too much going on in my life for me to take it all in. And I know this post is going to sound all whiney, but that's exactly how I feel at the moment. Tired, emotional, and really overwhelmed by everything. All I want to do is stay at home, watch tele, and just dig my head in the sand. But unfortunately, it's time to start acting like the adult I'm supposed to be, and just get the bloody hell on with it....

1. Moving house & the great appliance debacle
Holy crap there is so much to do. I have to get so many services ported across to the new place, like water and gas and electricity and phones. On top of that work has been a bitch, so I can't seem to find the time to do everything. PLUS, I have to buy a cooker, fridge and a washing machine, and for some reason I just can not make up my mind. I've never heard of brands like "Indesit" (or as I've now heard them called Indeshit), "Cannon" or "HotPoint". How am I supposed to make an informed choice? I think I've got the washer/dryer/fridge/freezer thing nailed down. I just have to get down to buying the bloody things.

The thing is that now I am suffering from a total lack of conviction, and I am completely indecisive about everything. I was trying to buy a card reader this morning, and got totally flustered about buying a £8 reader or a £6 reader. The cheaper one is from Amazon, but the more expensive one seemed to have a longer cord. This is all it takes to floor me now. I can't decide if I should have one piece of toast or two. Eat sushi for lunch or hot dogs. Am I thirsty now or not? Do I want to sue the people who are selling me my house or not??? What is fucking wrong with me????

2. Police
I got a call on Tuesday from Aylesbury police. We went to Aylesbury for the weekend last week to show The Flatmate how random the whole place was. So when I get a call from a police woman, saying that she has some questions for me I think "holy crap? What did I do? Did I assault someone and not remember it, even though I wasn't that drunk? ". She then asks me if we stayed at the hotel which we did stay in. This has me thinking "hmm, I'm sure The Flatmate paid the bill? We did take the biscuits from the room, but they were supposed to be complimentary??? We didn't trash the room at any stage.. maybe they're calling because I couldn't get the tap to stop slowly dripping... Maybe it is over the 50 pence biscuits... but they weren't even that good..". The police woman then starts questioning me on whether we saw anything suspicious on Saturday night because they are investigating an incident of a rape at the hotel, possibly involving a man or a member of staff. This has me completely freaked, because we were there, but we didn't see anything.. admittedly, we also had a good amount of whiskey and cokes in us, but still... that's really freaked me out to be honest... What if C or I had been alone in the room and someone tried to break in? What if they accused The Flatmate because he was alone in his room? How could I have been at a hotel, where there were so few people, and not notice some woman had been brutally assaulted? There is this real feeling of guilt for some reason, that I can't seem to shake.

3. FOP
FOP week has been moving along slowly. Unfortunately The Flatmate called me up all in a state because all the restaurants he wants to go to are full on Saturday, and he didn't think about making any arrangements prior to today. This gets me annoyed because I'd spent most of the week "reminding" (ok, fine, nagging) him to get things organised, and he'd just get annoyed at me for "reminding" (nagging) him. So I didn't have the greatest amount of sympathy when he spent ages on the phone complaining that he'd left it too late. All well that ends well, because he finally found somewhere, we just hope that all the vegetarian/vegan/non-beef/non-red meat eaters will be ok with an Argentinian Steak House. I like steak, and yes, my name is Jack and I'm alright.

4. FUCKING HOUSE
I've officially completed today. So officially I am supposed to be living there today. I am supposed to have the keys. I am not supposed to have the sellers living there. I told my solicitor about this whole not moving in until Sunday thing, and how the estate agent (never deal with Foxtons) had specifically told me not to say anything to them, and she's gone dead set nuts. Now she's servicing them notice telling them that if they're not out we're going to charge them, and if they aren't out on Sunday at 2pm, we're going to sue them. Apparently I could ask them to pay for the two days they are living there, and if they didn't pay then it would be up to the estate agent to pay, completely explaining why the estate agent didn't want me to say anything.

I just want an easy life! I just want to move in without all this freakin' hassle. Fuck fuck fuck.

On the plus side, Calv pointed out that we are going to a casino tonight, and if I get the keys today, I could just throw them on a roulette table and say "all on black". Then I'd have to explain to everyone why I was living out of a cardboard box, because I don't own a house anymore.....

FOP, Wrists and Boggle Eyes

I know I've not finished regaling (aka boring) you with stories of Svalbard (where it's not -37.6C, but when we were there it was a pathetic -1C) but so much else has happened, so I'll do Svalbard later.

1st: Groaning Debt
It seems that after 6 painful, head banging against the wall, hair wrenching months, I've finally exchanged on my flat! I'm getting the keys on Friday, and legally, I'm bound to it like a hostage, gagged and flung into the back of a car. However, as nothing with this house has gone smoothly, the vendor can't move out of the flat until Sunday, because he can't drive and he has to wait for his brother to help him move (what is wrong with hiring a dude and a truck I ask?) , the vendor, his girlfriend and son will be squatting in my flat for 48 hours. My esteemed estate agent told me "well, this does happen all the time, but best not mention it to your lawyer eh?". So obviously not trusting this sleazy man as far as I could throw his short, squat, rotund, little body, I ran and told my lawyer who was less than pleased. But still, squatting aside, it's done now, and some of my lovely friends are helping me move my junk on Monday. Love the lovely friends

2. FOP
It's finally happened. The Flatmate has an end date, a get out of jail, exit strategy finally planned.

Last Friday, removalists came to pack up his stuff and ship it all back to Australia. Naturally, being a complete hoarder, his estimated 15 boxes turned into 35, probably because he's taken a load of my crap too (why? my dresses won't fit him, he's way too tall!). So our flat is not 1/2 empty, and devoid of all things his. Amusing he's living out of a suit case for the next 2 weeks, and because they've taken all his stuff, including his linen, he is sleeping in his sleeping bag, on a naked mattress. Talk about temporary. Also, being seduced by the lovely warm March spring weather last week, he packed all his cold weather gear, and now is paying the price as it's fucking freezing in London, and it's starting to snow again. Snow. In London. In March. It must be some sort of punishment from the gods for abandoning me. Obviously the gods are on my side, and want the wicked Flatmate to freeze. Ha!

So the next 2 weeks are FOP week for The Flatmate (FOP = Fuck Off Phil). A vast array of events, all involving eating, drinking and spending money I don't actually have anymore.


3. Punishment for Boggle Eyes.
Speaking of punishment, on Saturday, probably in answer to me taking C and The Flatmate to Aylesbury, where Dr D grew up, for a truly, mid England, thug filled, old men coping off with old women in sleazy nightclubs, with lots of underage kids thrown in the mix as well, night out. We thought The Flatmate needed to see the randomness that is a night on the tiles in Aylesbury. And also I was making a last ditch attempt at keeping The Flatmate in London, by throwing a 5Ft 9, blond, yes slightly boggled eyed, friend of Dr Dr in his path. Of course it never works out the way I plan, as whilst she looked kindof interested in The Flatmate, that interest waned very quickly when Dr D said "well, I work with her* (pointing at me) and he (pointing at the Flatmate) lives with her (pointing back at me).." At this, her boggle eyes looked at The Flatmate, then back at me, then back at the Flatmate, probably trying to work out what sort of weird bunch we were, then she buggered off literally 10 seconds later. So in punishment for me trying to change The Flatmates destiny, I've managed to end up with tendonitis (or more accurately De Quervian tenosynovitis) in my right wrist. Basically, my wrist is fucked, and I can't grip, hold a pen, move a mouse or type. You find being a programmer who can't type or use a mouse is very difficult. I went to the minor injuries unit at the hospital yesterday, only to wait in the queue behind what seemed like a thousand people, all of whom seemed to have open cuts, broken feet or missing limbs. 2 hours I sat waiting, so I could finally see a nurse, try and explain that whilst I did go out on Sat night, and yes, my wrist started hurting on Sat night, I did not go out, get pissed, and fall over and hurt myself, and that this definitely is not a UDI (Unidentified Drinking Injury). 20 seconds of looking and my arm, she sticks my wrist in a splint, says "rest" and packs me off. So much for the NHS.

*Amended because Dr D has issues. BIG HAIRY ISSUES.

So that's what's been happening here. Sprained limbs, house moving, and FOP events. It's going to be very weird now as we start doing our "lasts" of everything. Last dinners at fave restaurants, last nights in, last fights involving fisty cuffs, and kicking.. It all sounds a bit perverse huh? Good thing The Flatmate never reads this..

Longyearbyen, our first day. AKA Boffins on Ice

This was the day we went dog sledding... And Dr D realised he had Superman/Indiana Jones fantasies, whilst the Magic saw himself more like a Bond style hero...

--------------

It's been such a cool day today. We spent the morning doing a dog sleding tour around an iced over lake!

Calv, and The Flatmate took one sled, and Dr D, Magic and I were on the other, being pulled along by 9 very, very eager huskies. All 3 of us had a go at leading the dogs, whilst the other two sat on the sledge, and it was amazing fun! Before we started off, these dogs were yappy, and jumpy, and so excited. But once we took off, they all turned into serious working mutts.


Dr D so far has not had a very good animal tour/holiday ration so far. In America a few years ago, we went horse riding, and he managed to pull his groin really badly when his horse got ultra greedy and kept trying to eat the grass, whilst not bothering to stop first. What must have seemed like a real time saving move at the time turned into Dr D's near death experience, as the horse refused to stop eating, lost it's balance, and nearly fell over, possibly leaving Dr D in a more pancake shape.. This time, he was surely hoping to have less life threatening animal touring experience, but even so, when he took the reins he seemed a bit nervous. Once he started getting into the swing of it, he really took to it, looking around, urging the dogs to run faster, saying how much fun it was, giggling like an excited school girl. Inevitably cockiness overrules, and he starts to think "this dog sled driving is a piece of piss", and so he starts trying to make snow balls with his foot (we still have no idea why??), whilst dogs are pulling us along at a not to be sniffed at trot. Slowly I notice the constant Dr D chatter has stopped, to be replaced with the occasional "oops" and "ooh dear". When I turn around, he wasn't so much standing on the sled, but more being dragged, Indiana Jones style, belly down, along the snow, behind the sled. Apparently he had managed to get too much snow caught in his boot, trip a bit, completely fuck up, and fall over. Rather than letting anyone know what he'd done of course, he thought he could "fix it" before we noticed, and was trying to drag himself back up. The only problem with this plan is that the snow is of course too soft for him to get a good grip with his shoe on, and everytime he tries to put his foot down, he just sinks into the snow even deeper. He literally was dragged about 100 m, with 9 huskies pulling our sled along before we noticed. When we saw this, The Magic jumped up on the sled quick as lightning, trying to manouvere his way to get to the break, thus saving his best friend for drowning in snow. Unfortunately, whilst The Magic jumped up like a hero, and he fell down like a boffin.

So now, this leaves me, on a sled, alone, being dragged by 9 uber excited huskies, no driver and no way to stop. Screaming "STOP" at the dogs does no good of course, because these puppies don't understand English or even the more common English Louder. All the other sleds in front unfortunately do speak english, and by now have all stopped their sleds and are watching Dr D and the Magic running after, laughing their arses off, and falling over in the snow. They also watch me preacriously climbing my way to the back of the sled, sure footed like a cow on ice skates, throw the anchor, lose my footing, and get dragged along the side of the sled until the dogs ran into the people in front. I've never been so embarrased to be a nerdy boffin in my life!


So all in all Dr D succesfully managing animals on a tour 0, Animals Trying to Kill Dr D whilst on holiday 2.

Tomorrow we're off ice caving in a river glacier, in the evening. Now I'm not too keen on closed in spaces, but I've been assured that this is the tour were I won't have to crawl under hundreds of metres of ice on my hands and knees. Being opressed by a ton of ice is not something i'm particularly looking forward to, but then again, neither is flying and I manage to do that ok.

Svalbard Day 1

Here's Day 1 in Svalbard.

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Well we've finally made it to the Arctic Circle! After a 4 hour delay in Tromso because of blizzards in Longyearbyen, we spent a few hours sitting on the plane, hoping we were actually going to make it here today. When we finally did land in Svalbard, there were amazing snow drifts coarsing over the runway. Even though you know the temperature is going to be way below freezing, nothing prepares you for how cold that really is. Taking in that first breath of sub zero air was such a shock it threw me into a coughing fit. It was unbelievable. And because it's all snowing, and dark, my perception has been completely thrown, and I find that I am unable to distinguish the things that I'm looking at.. is that snow on the roof? Is that a roof at all or just a part of the sky? Is that a car or a bear? Or am I just hungry...?

But now we've all checked into our apartments at the SAS Radisson (oh yes people. We go to the acrtic circle and stay in style.. nice!), and we've gotten all of our cold weather gear (including my new hat which has a deer on it! Not quite as dangerous as a seal I'm sure), and gone our for a walk around town.. the only problem with that is that we keep getting distracted by all the feather light snow, and we all just keep falling over and rolling in it. A bit like dogs. It really is amazing here. Freezing and dark, but amazing.

So we're off to have dinner now, in the hotel restaurant, which looks amazing. And surprisingly heaps cheaper than Oslo! Tomorrow we've got a 3 hour dog sled tour booked, where we get to meet the doggies, harness them and drive them around! I'm so excited!


Firstly though, here's my personal checklist of things to do on this holiday:

1. Try Seal
   
2. Try reindeer
   
3. Try Deer - done
   
4. Dogsleding
   
5. Snowmobiling
   
6. Snowball fight
   
7. See the Doomsday Vault
   
8. See the Northern Lights
   
9. See the Polar bears
   
10. See glaciars
    
11. Possibly, run outside in my underwear in the snow....
    

24 hours in Oslo

Well, it's over. 2 months of planning, anticipation, worry about polar bear mauling, and sheer excitment has ended with 8 fantastic, sometimes bitterly cold, days in Norway, and it's little territory called Svalbard. I was going to blog whilst I was away, since I brought my laptop with me, but blogger had other ideas. My blog was flagged as spam(!) and I had to email the powers that be and ask them to give me my account back. Spam I tell you. Phnarr. You've never heard so much swearing when I found out. Sailors would have blushed.

Anyway, here's the first post I had written up whilst away. I figure I'll post all the ones I've written, and then do a little recap in the end. Included in future posts are things like:

1) Me being abandoned on a dog sled with no driver or other passengers, in the middle of a glacier, whilst both Dr D and the Magic try unsuccessfully to chase after
2) Me almost killing Dr D by overturning our snowmobile
3) £80 worth of pizzas
4) The taste of seal
5) The Island

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First 24 Hours in Oslo
We've now been in Oslo for about 24 hours, and after lots of walking, taking photos, playing in snow, trying to avoid being eaten by the worlds largest dogs, we're all sitting here in one of our rooms, frankly, knackered, feet up, drinking beers, and watching "Loser" on norweigan telly. Incidentaly, our room is possibly the most nerd injected room in all of Oslo with:

1. 3 laptops
   
2. 6 digital cameras
   
3. 1 digital SLR
   
4. 1 old fun time SLR
   
5. USB2 Cards
   
6. Network Cards
   
7. 3 USB keyfob/drive/thingy (Magic says keyfob, Dr D says key drive, and I say "thingy")
   

Hell YEAH!

Our first 24 hours has not been nearly as cold as I expected it to be. It's probably about 3 degrees outside, and compared to what it's going to be like in Svaldbard, that's practically t-shirts and shorts weather!

I have to say, Oslo, and probably Norway, is the most expensive place on this god given earth. Last night we went out to dinner, to what has been described in the guide books as "moderately priced". Norways "moderately priced" is equivalent to the rest of the world's "sweet mother of god, I need to get a second mortgage to pay for this meal of bread and tap water". When the Mag and I decided to have a bottle of wine with dinner, the waitress suggested a £38.90 bottle of red. And that was one of the cheapest ones going! Today, I inadvertedly spent 5 POUNDS on a tiny, tiny, tiny travel size bottle of hair mousse. It's scarey when you're in a country where you need a bank roll to buy a burger. Or where you can take out almost £600 from a cash machine in one transaction...

Anyway, here are a couple of pics from today, including Dr D constantly falling over in the snow.. I'm not sure we're going out tonight. It's actually insanely fun drinking tinnies, watching tele, and chatting. (Though Dr D is not really talking to us, and is spending all night "playing" (aka cheating) at Championship Manager. And asking me if I'm "blogging shit".

Oh yes I am Dr D.

BTW: I've just had the most nerd fulfilling experience in my life. I've just OUTNERDED The Magic, a doctor in particle physics (there are 2 of them in this room right now (thus upping our nerd factor to stratospheric levels)), when he saw me using on GVim. He didn't even know that you can use VI on Windows! How cool is that..

Svalbard Weather Watch

Ok, I'll admit it. Despite the fact that

1. I've paid close to £500 in hard weather gear for this trip to Svalbard
2. Distressingly, I've realised that despite the years of coca-cola propaganda, polar bears are in fact not our friends
3. I could die in a horrid plane accident when our 2 stroke, probably made of MDF, light aircraft tries to land on, what can essentially be called an ice rink

I am getting pretty damn excited about this trip.

So, I'm going to keep you updated, for the next 3 days, of the temperature in Svalbard, to appreciate the slight apprehension I'm feeling as a soft southern Sydney girl, going as far north as a girl should go:

Temperature at 6am this morning (with windchill) : -30C
Current Temparture in Longyearbyen : -9.6C
Current Temparture in Longyearbyen (with windchill) : -21.1C

-21.1C!!!! In Sydney, if it dips below 10C people start going worrying about the ensuing cold snap, destined to take down the city and start wearing thermals underwear and long johns.. This is going to be weird.

Sunset Appreciation

Here's something for Mayren's Sunset Appreciation post - a stormy sky taken on our Roadtrip, between El Paso and the Grand Canyon through the US a few years ago....

All these pics were taken from the middle "captains chair" seats on our Dodge Grand Caravan - hurtling down freeways at hundreds of k's per hour.. or whatever the speed limit was...

Easiest way to make a man come running

1. Walk past the man's bedroom, muttering slightly
   
2. Walk past again, this time holding a tool box - this obviously makes him prick his ears.
   
3. Open tool box, spilling some of the screwdrivers on the floor - this is to pique his interest and make him knit his eyebrows together a little.
   
4. Walk into the bathroom, screwdriver in hand - he's getting more interested/nervous
   
5. Start unscrewing the piece of wood behind the toilet, to get to the toilet cistern - his head pops out the door. At this point, he will ask "do you need a hand?", to which you have to look around, smile and say "no thanks!"
   
6. Put the 'blue loo' cleaning block in cistern, then start screwing the wood back into place. When inevitably, it does not end up quite flush against the wall, say loudly "oh damnit, that's not supposed to go like that" - this makes the man ask his brother, who is on a call from Australia, to hold on a minute.
   
7. Go back to the hall, take out hammer from the toolbox, then start hitting the wood, to try and get it back in place.
   

This is my sure fire, never fail, guaranteed way to make the man (aka The Flatmate) throw the phone down on his international call, run out the door, down the hall, into the bathroom, saying "Um, ok, are you sure you don't need some help? Don't need me to come to the rescue then?"

Hmmm, and I'm supposed to be owning a house soon? Now I'm not sure that's the best idea is it...

Brussels Trip Roundup

After 3 days, and averaging about 4 hours sleep a night, we've gotten back from my spiritual home of Brussels. I really love it there, and would move back in an instant if I had the oppurtunity.

Will blog the trip, but here is the slideshow of some pics from the weekend, which you can also see here. I'm trying out different things on my digital SLR, for my next trip, in 3 days time, to Norway!

Makes you want to smash your head repeatedly against a wall

AAARRGGHH.

After 5 freaking months, I am still not the owner of my god damned flat.

I was expecting to be able to exchange early this week, but lo and behold, it's Thursday and still no joy. My solicitor called me today to say that as far as they were concerned they have all the necessary paperwork, and asked for which dates I would like to complete on (i.e. which day do I want to get the keys to my first flat). After much deliberation and thought, I replied back with "I want the keys yesterday or sooner". So I call the estate agent, a sleazy little man, who if I ever hear his voice or see him from now until the end of time, it will be too soon, to tell him that I want my house now, and to this he says:

"Well, because this whole process has taken so long, it seems that the vendors original mortgage offer has fallen through, so he is in the process of getting a new one approved. We don't think it will take too long, and hopefully he will not need another survey done. This will obviously put a delay on completion."

FUCKING WANKING BASTARD HELL

I am not the very soul of a good human as I am fuming, angry, and want everyone involved with this house sale to get into a car, cover themselves with petrol, light a match, and drive off a cliff.

So when I tell the estate agent that I can't believe that this is happening, and that the sale of this house is going to fall through, he says in his sleazy, disgusting little way:

"Don't get stressed. Go and drink some camomile tea or something". - No, why don't you go and shove your camomile tea up your arse you nonce.

I am not impressed. I am now waiting to see if the vendor his gets his new mortgage offer, and am now planning on moving to my new place, ooh, I dunno, March, 2008. I wouldn't want to be too optimistic about the date now would I?

On the vaguest of vague plus sides, I'm off to Brussels tonight, which is my spiritual home, for the weekend, so I won't be back until Monday. I'm sure I'll have lots of pics of us eating gaffres and chocolate. To the minus side, my stomach is still going crazy, so right after I eat the gaffre and chocolate, I'll probably need to go run for a loo to not injest calories again. Damn damn damn.

No more feelings of rejection

It's finally got me. On my birthday, after too much fondue, meat, cheese and chocolate variety, the gastro bug that's taken everyone down got me too. Whilst it is annoying throwing up everything you've eaten, I've taken the pragmatic approach of thinking "my female friends will be proud of me.. at least I'm not injesting any calories".

Unfortunately it wasn't so bad that I couldn't go whoreing myself (AKA doing a presales demo/meeting/training) at a large financial institution at Canary Wharf , but I was sick enough to go home halfway through the day yesterday and stay at home today.

The thing about being home from work is that I always end up padding about the house, unshowered and in my pj's... lying on the couch, feeling sorry for myself, and smelling slightly ripe... The good thing about having a stomach bug is that I have absolutely no appetite, because everytime I eat, my belly feels like it's full of little dwarfs, doing summersaults, with little shoes that have spikes in them.

So today, I've watched the 1940's Noel Coward classic "Brief Encounter", which is a terrific example of stoic british angst at it's finest. Lots of long looks, sighs, fainting spells and "oh darling, don't look at me like that, it's awfully shamefull what we're doing. One must keep one's composure". The Flatmate as less than impressed with the whole film. And now I'm off to show my xbox some love, since it's sulking because I've not paid it any attention today. The Flatmate is off to have lunch, because he says there is a funny smell here... maybe I'd better shower first... hmmm

On this day..

1. 1473 - Nicolaus Copernicus, famous astronomer, whose at the time controversial theory called "De revolutionibus orbium coelestium" is percieved as the starting point of modern astronomy, was born on this day
2. 1985 - EastEnders is first aired on the BBC! (You can see my new and old house on the map in the start of the show). I love a show which can make you think "no matter how bad I think my life is, at least I'm not pregnant and still in love with the man who I am having an affair with, who doesn't want to have an affair with me, but is only doing it because his wife wants to buy my child".
3. 1861 - Serfdom was abolished in Russia
4. 2007 - It's my birthday, and I am now "officially" in my "late 20s". 28 was my mid-late 20s. Undeniable, 29 is my late-late 20s.

As it's my birthday, and to honour my german ancestry, to celebrate chinese new year, and because it's the last day of my "Birthday Season", we went to Kurz & Lang for a german pork sausages and sauerkraut for lunch. Tonight, a few of us are off to a Swiss fondue restaurant, where The Flatmate will try not to be sick, since he reckons he's now been hit with the gastro bug that's making the rounds of our group.

Present wise I have done exceptionally well. Dr D got me a DIY book, my friend Pop, who has amazing taste in fashion, gave me a cool pair of earings that appeal to my catholic side by having what looks like bits of rosary beads dangling from them ! Lee got me a cool book chocka full of American Diner recipes. My friend, Campbelly got me a champagne recorker so that I can safely induldge in Champagne Thursdays without feeling the need to neck the whole bottle in one go. And finally The Flatmate, C, Calv, Magic and Dr D gave me an XBox 360!! WOW!! I can now play Halo, which I love, as well as Gears of War, which is just plain frightening!

I also got these beautiful roses from my mum.

On Saturday night, C and I had a lovely dinner at a local pub, which 20 of our closest friends came to. On the way back to our place, for the inevitable party, I walked everyone past the soon-to-be-mine flat, where we all stood outside freaked out the vendor... Why having 15 or so people standing outside their flat, pointing and going "oooh" and "so when do they move out?" would freak someone out is anyones guess. They didn't look too happy looking out of their windows, desperately trying to call the cops...

And yes, if you're wondering, the inevitable party did end at 4 am when we sang our voices dry with some awful/awsome Singstar.... A really serendipitous finding that night was that I own all the ingredients needed to make some kick arse cosmopolitans, which Lee, Pop and I drank by the huge red wine glass full.. no wonder I didn't surface from my room until 1 in the afternoon!

All in all, it's been a pretty good birthday season. I'm not too worried about getting older.. though I'm sure that's going to change soon. But right this very minute, I will own a house soon, I'm going to Brussels for the weekend, then I'm off to Svaldbard and China in a few weeks, so at this moment in time, life is pretty damn tasty!

Your Friday Moment of Zen: Hats made of seals are bad

For some insane reason, The Flatmate, Calv, Magic, Dr D and myself are all off on holiday in a few weeks time to Svalbard. Officially a part of Norway, it is Europe's northernmost territory, and is way inside the Arctic circle, being about 1000 km from the North Pole. In fact, I think it's as far north as you can get before they slap the title "explorer" on you. The whole territory has only 5 towns, the smallest one having a grand population of 10 people and the "capital" having a population of 1,800... My last job employed more people than that!



The fact that there will be no sun for the whole time we're there means we will hopefully see the Aurora borealis, which I think is the main reason for us going... The fact that the average temperature is about -12C, which goes down to about -30C with windchill, is not the thing that's freaking me out the most... It's the fact that for years now I've always thought of polar bears as cute and cuddly animals, who drink bottles of coke, nuzzle their young, are romantic to their partners, and love to give humans hugs. However, the 500 or so white cutie pies which are on the territory are the biggest threat to people, and if one tries to attack you, you are advised to keep shooting it until it stops. Killed by lead poisoning. Thus, you are told to never leave a settlement without carrying a rifle.

Which you can hire.

Without the need of a license or even the knowledge of how to use one....

So in honour of this new found polar bear fear, this is my Friday Moment of Zen: Of all the freezing, north pole equipped, fuck off hard core weather gear I will be wearing in Svaldbard, not one item will be a hat, shaped like a seal.

Enjoy!

Posts, posts, posts

I've been uber slack for the last week, but I do actually have a ligitimate excuse: that stupid monkey called "work" has been on my back for the last week, so I've not had much of chance to write things up. But hopefully these 4 posts will make up for a week of bludging (well blog bludging..)

Yours in slackness,
I

Infatuated again

I wrote a couple of months ago about a horrendous crush I'd developed on Superman (yes, you read right. Not much of a mind blowing announcement: "Geek girl fancies comic book hero. "). Oh god, how pathetic).

However, the revolving door of fictional men I get crushes on seems to have stopped right firmly at the door of Jane Eyre's Mr Rochester.

This is of course helped by the fact that he's recently been played with Toby Stephen's in the BBC production, which is just amazing. After watching the BBC production, I was in the throes of the 19th century novel, and I have to say, I don't know where this novel has been all my life! And on top of that, I can't get over it was written by a Bronte, considering how I can't even count the ways in which I loathe and despise Emily Bronte and her pathetic book "Wuthering Heights" (for god's sake Catherine and Heathcliff. Get a god damn fucking room, or go get lost on the moors until collapse of starvation and wild dogs eat you).

Mr Rochester though. God damn. Whilst it's sad for someone my age to lust after a fictional character, especially the youngest son of a wealthy man who ends up (LOOK AWAY IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO SPOIL IT) locking his wife away in a tower and becomes a brooding, angry, depressed, hollow shell of a man. But there you go. It's too late. He's long "dead" and I think he's great.

Finally! Finally!!!!!

After 5 months, and 17 agonising days, I have finally been told by my lawyers that they might have all the necessary paper work, so I could possibly exchange contracts for my new house next Monday, which just happens to be my BIRTHDAY!

I refuse to let myself get excited, and start thinking things like appliances, light fittings, curtains, and removalists, until they can guarantee that I will have the keys of my flat in my hot litte greedy hands.

OH MY GOD! I MIGHT ACTUALLY EXCHANGE ON MY FIRST FLAT! How fabulous is that!

Ok calm down. I will not allow myself to get excited about this, because the feeling of elation when I've been told that there is only 1 thing left to get, followed by the absolute dismal feeling of being let down when I'm told something else hasn't come through yet has left a horrid taste in my mouth, so I refuse to let myself get disappointed again.

Still, I just can't stop myself from being excited! Watch this space, because I am going to INUNDATE this blog with the crappy things I want to fill my house with. Starting with this cool, cool, cool retro lamp (at the insane price of £1,980):



It sucks to be me... so many beautiful things, so little money...

Night of firsts

Going out with people from work usually means that our group from the office end up in a pub 2 minutes from our desks. It also means that I always end up getting the tube or a taxi with either Dr D or Calv (cause they live very close to my house). However this time, Calv was too sick to go out, and Dr D was just getting over being sick (both boys had a horrendous case of gastro, which I was practially willing myself to get... it's pretty pathetic when you want gastrointeritous just so you can feel a bit thinner, and that you actually feel the sting of rejection when a stomach bug refuses to not infect you and leave you lying on the tiles of your bathroom floor... ). So at about 9pm Dr D left the pub and me, for me to make my own way home...

So tonight was definitely a night of firsts. The first time I went out with work people on my own (how wierd is that?). The first time I ended up in KFC on my own, eating my dinner at a table in the corner by my lonesome (hey, love me, love my KFC!).. and for some reason I kindof saw my future - a sad image of myself, staring back at me in the flourecent lit reflection of the door. A sad woman, siting alone, slightly pissed, nibbling on chicken wings...

And thinking about it now, I'm not too sure how I feel about that....

Happy Birthday C!

It's C's 29th birthday today (6 days before mine) so this post goes out to you:


C is very much into 1940's looks (hair, dancing and dress), so I have been trying to find a picture of a cheesecake girl that she might like. The only problem with this is that it means that I need to type the words "pinup", "girl" and "cheesecake" into google, which obviously puts my work pc into worlds of problems. I'm seriously waiting for the internet police to come and take me away for looking up porn.... albeit 1940's porn...

So C, Happy Birthday! Hope you're having a good day :) Don't worry, we've still got 365 (372 if you're me) more days in our 20s...... It's possible it could go all downhill from there....

Oops: I forgot to mention that I found this picture here

Mayren as an M&M

In the new "You as an M&M" exhibition, here's Mayren (of Mayren Abashed fame) in M&M form! Nice hair & bear combo!

Remember, if you'd like to take part, go to becomeanmm.com and sculpt yourself out of a piece of virtual candy, send it to me, and I'll post it!

C as an M&M

I'm going to blog anyone who has made an M&M person of themselves. If you want to send it to me, then let me know and I'll send you my email address.

This is C. She said she think she looks rubbish, but I reckon she looks hot! Look at those shoes!

Remember, if you want to be an M&M person, check this out!

Snow in London

Today it snowed for the second time this year! As an Aussie girl, even after almost 6 years in London, I am still excited everytime I see the snow, even if it is only about 2 cm deep and has all melted by midday. At lunch today, I found all the swept clumps of snow, and jumped up and down in them like a 5 year old. I'm never going to grow tired of that!

Check out my slideshow here