Not funk as in funky. Funk as in rut.
This is now the third Tuesday night where I have felt a little bit miserable. The previous two were possibly hangover related from the weekend, but this week my main reason is that I caught up with a friend of my brother's from Adelaide who has been stuggling for 18 months to get back into Australia to see his daughter. And essentially for him, it has been a little bit like pushing the proverbial up a hill.
I am now going to help him get his application sorted and submitted, and fortuitously, having now entered my third week working in the immigration team of a certain law firm, I kinda know a bit about what is wrong with his application as it stands.
Nonetheless, feeling a little (a lot of) empathy for his situ, I was ready to ball my eyes out after seeing him tonight, and I am not even the one who hasn't seen my daughter for 18 whole months.
The Tuesday funk generally ends on a Tuesday, luckily, so tomorrow I will re-read this post and think I sound like a whining loser. But right now, as I enjoy balcony-time and red wine, I thought I would give you a glimpse of my decidedly grey mood. I am sure it makes for thoroughly joyous reading.
Some goodish news brewing, is that after being fairly well mucked around by a particular recruitment agency who dazzled me with the lights of a cool job in Canary Wharf (as previously mentioned in an earlier post), I have tickled and talked my way into an impending short term contract with the afore alluded-to firm which will see me propl'y qualified as a proper solicitor. Lalala. But having yet to see or get a whiff of the contract, I have learned a little lesson about counting chickens etc etc etc.
For those of you who like my soap-box philosopher rants, I have one brewing about my observations of class divisions and money in this lil ol town, but I am musing over it, because my opinions are currently a little ill-formed. I think.
Am reading quite ardently, two books at once. A serious brain-food book on the tube, and Harry Potter at night. It is rather delightful to spend around 90 minutes a day reading. As such, I am becoming quite fond of my daily commute. Althought, I confess, my new habit of reading a book, no matter how packed the tube, has reduced my capacity for observing those around me.
I can however smell them from time to time. Particularly on warm days. Like today. ;-)
BTW - there aren't very many bugs in London. Just something I have noticed.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Cheese
I am just posting this picture to make the blog look a little more interesting. (This was at the Borough Market on Saturday).
The post below is what you should be reading.
The post below is what you should be reading.
Solubility
Every day when I walk down the street, catch the tube, watch TV, go to the supermarket, i see loads of things that I would love to write on here - little gems of mini-humour that amuse me no-end. Sadly for all of you, I can never remember them, no matter how much I try and deliberately commit them to memory!
People who have lived in London bear with me, the little insights that I do manage to recall and that I present as my own probably have no whiff of originality for you, and I recognise that they are a bit over-exuberant and self indulgent. But while it's all new I am unapologetic, because my eyes have already started adjusting to the lights of this old town.
I haven't written nearly enough about the tube, and every day I have to stifle laughter for one reason or another when I catch it. The moment I stop being amused by tube body language and my own crazy tube thoughts, I will know that my sense of humour has dissolved and/or I have become the most cynical type of London public transport patron.
It struck me today as I eeked out my path along the District and Circle lines to Barbican station, that every tube ride sees me having numerous conversations in my head. I also tend to imagine what other people are thinking about those around them.
Last Friday night as I caught one of the last tubes back to Earl's Court from Putney, I was alone, observant and a little inebriated having spent the afternoon at the Coat & Badge with some newly arrived pals. There was a bloke of about 26 with a carton of beer in one arm, and a big packet of hot chips under another. He was handing out the beers to whoever would take them, mainly young attractive girls who looked about 17. The dialogue going on in my head at that point was something along the lines of "oh god, please don't roll one of those things at me" given that I was by myself, and probably not particularly able to string a good deflection sentence together.
Ok, so that wasn't one of the most amusing or witty conversations that I have had with myself, but I was tired, full of beer, Pimms (heaven in a jug with cucumber for good measure) tarragon chicken burger, and confused about certain happenings on a certain Putney Bridge.
Today on the way home from work, I moved seats to try and get a bit of space ("Hmmm - a vacant double seat - I can read my copy of London Lite without having to give myself elbow cramps") and at the very next stop a bloke got on and sat right next to me, therefore defeating the point of moving in the first place ("Oh great one Del, draw unnecessary attention to yourself by moving, and then pick the seat where someone sits down straight away.") And then a brief pause..... ("What the hell is that smell? *Subtle sniff* Ok, don't vomit, it's just unwashed clothes, mixed with stale tobacco and alcho-breath. Nothing too offensive.") A casual sideways glance.... "is it a hobo? no it's a man in a suit. *internal grunt & snicker* Oh you fool, you've just inhaled air from his pongy aura".
Even slightly more amusing is the conversation my two selves enjoy when a good-looking man boards the carriage. "Go on give him a wink" says the 5% of me that would ever dream of doing such a thing. "Keep your head down and admire tactfully from afar", says the dominant, sensible, astoundingly Virgo 95%. That fraction always wins. Sigh, if only I were a Gemini.
Now the only reason I can think that I have all these strange little conversations is because of the acute silence on the bloody things. In fact, the only people who speak on the tube are those who speak a language other than English, and (unsurprisingly?) Americans, usually in family groupings. Today when I asked a slightly infirm woman if she would like my seat, she initially looked at me like I had poked her in the rear with a pin, until she realised that I was actually offering to give up my little luxury and stand the rest of the way home rocking on my uncomfortable stiletto heels, for HER BENEFIT.
Anyway, this is just one short instalment in my tube adventures. There will, I can assure you, be more.
BTW those of you who previously read my blog when I was living in Jakarta will know of my penchant for Project Runway, the fashion designer reality show, and I have one eye on it right now as I am typing this. Which is timely, as the commercials have reminded me of something else - the fact that I suppose in an effort to not be London-posh-centric, commercials in and of themselves are oh-so-politically correct in that one will come on with a Welsh voice-over or a Jordy voice over or a Cockney voice over or what I like to call "miscellaneous-northern-sounding-but-not-quite-discernible-accent". I actually don't call it that at all, but you get what I mean.
And in my phrase of the week which I don't know whether makes me laugh or cry, an Irish lady in my current workplace came over to the desk next to mine earlier today and said "This fu**ing thing is about as tidy as a tinker's trolley". I need to practice my poker face, as when she saw my reaction she looked at me and winked. Naturally I was aghast.
Anyway, I am not talking about work this week. I am doing a short stint in a painfully boring role until the other thing is sorted (Government, pah!) and it is killing me. My brain is numb.
My final little self-indulgence for this post is to say a shout-out to the exquisite Ruby-Mae, my new little cousin who could not be cuter if she tried. Don't let her grow up until I come home.
People who have lived in London bear with me, the little insights that I do manage to recall and that I present as my own probably have no whiff of originality for you, and I recognise that they are a bit over-exuberant and self indulgent. But while it's all new I am unapologetic, because my eyes have already started adjusting to the lights of this old town.
I haven't written nearly enough about the tube, and every day I have to stifle laughter for one reason or another when I catch it. The moment I stop being amused by tube body language and my own crazy tube thoughts, I will know that my sense of humour has dissolved and/or I have become the most cynical type of London public transport patron.
It struck me today as I eeked out my path along the District and Circle lines to Barbican station, that every tube ride sees me having numerous conversations in my head. I also tend to imagine what other people are thinking about those around them.
Last Friday night as I caught one of the last tubes back to Earl's Court from Putney, I was alone, observant and a little inebriated having spent the afternoon at the Coat & Badge with some newly arrived pals. There was a bloke of about 26 with a carton of beer in one arm, and a big packet of hot chips under another. He was handing out the beers to whoever would take them, mainly young attractive girls who looked about 17. The dialogue going on in my head at that point was something along the lines of "oh god, please don't roll one of those things at me" given that I was by myself, and probably not particularly able to string a good deflection sentence together.
Ok, so that wasn't one of the most amusing or witty conversations that I have had with myself, but I was tired, full of beer, Pimms (heaven in a jug with cucumber for good measure) tarragon chicken burger, and confused about certain happenings on a certain Putney Bridge.
Today on the way home from work, I moved seats to try and get a bit of space ("Hmmm - a vacant double seat - I can read my copy of London Lite without having to give myself elbow cramps") and at the very next stop a bloke got on and sat right next to me, therefore defeating the point of moving in the first place ("Oh great one Del, draw unnecessary attention to yourself by moving, and then pick the seat where someone sits down straight away.") And then a brief pause..... ("What the hell is that smell? *Subtle sniff* Ok, don't vomit, it's just unwashed clothes, mixed with stale tobacco and alcho-breath. Nothing too offensive.") A casual sideways glance.... "is it a hobo? no it's a man in a suit. *internal grunt & snicker* Oh you fool, you've just inhaled air from his pongy aura".
Even slightly more amusing is the conversation my two selves enjoy when a good-looking man boards the carriage. "Go on give him a wink" says the 5% of me that would ever dream of doing such a thing. "Keep your head down and admire tactfully from afar", says the dominant, sensible, astoundingly Virgo 95%. That fraction always wins. Sigh, if only I were a Gemini.
Now the only reason I can think that I have all these strange little conversations is because of the acute silence on the bloody things. In fact, the only people who speak on the tube are those who speak a language other than English, and (unsurprisingly?) Americans, usually in family groupings. Today when I asked a slightly infirm woman if she would like my seat, she initially looked at me like I had poked her in the rear with a pin, until she realised that I was actually offering to give up my little luxury and stand the rest of the way home rocking on my uncomfortable stiletto heels, for HER BENEFIT.
Anyway, this is just one short instalment in my tube adventures. There will, I can assure you, be more.
BTW those of you who previously read my blog when I was living in Jakarta will know of my penchant for Project Runway, the fashion designer reality show, and I have one eye on it right now as I am typing this. Which is timely, as the commercials have reminded me of something else - the fact that I suppose in an effort to not be London-posh-centric, commercials in and of themselves are oh-so-politically correct in that one will come on with a Welsh voice-over or a Jordy voice over or a Cockney voice over or what I like to call "miscellaneous-northern-sounding-but-not-quite-discernible-accent". I actually don't call it that at all, but you get what I mean.
And in my phrase of the week which I don't know whether makes me laugh or cry, an Irish lady in my current workplace came over to the desk next to mine earlier today and said "This fu**ing thing is about as tidy as a tinker's trolley". I need to practice my poker face, as when she saw my reaction she looked at me and winked. Naturally I was aghast.
Anyway, I am not talking about work this week. I am doing a short stint in a painfully boring role until the other thing is sorted (Government, pah!) and it is killing me. My brain is numb.
My final little self-indulgence for this post is to say a shout-out to the exquisite Ruby-Mae, my new little cousin who could not be cuter if she tried. Don't let her grow up until I come home.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Plethora of Things I've Noticed
Well first thing's first - I am disappointed to report that the post about going to see Angus and Julia Stone was a little eager. I traipsed across town to Hoxton & Shoreditch to a little place called the Hoxton Bar & Kitchen only to be told the damn show was sold out. Fortunately Geoff came with me in the end, so I didn't have to sit there like an idiot, alone. The worst thing was that I reckon we were the only Aussies there, and the door bitches took sadistic delight in denying our entry. Cows.
Anyway I've been noticing silly little things and I want to write them on here now before I stop noticing them and they become normal.
So first thing is - apparently road helmets are not compulsory here. I am not sure why this bothers me, given that I am entirely disinterested in cycling anywhere, ever. However some seldom used neuron in my brain seems to remember a graphic advertising campaign when helmets were made compulsory in Australia. Something to do with a watermelon smashing on a road?? (Have I imagined this?) So basically when I am walking down the street seeing all these un-helmeted cyclists, they transform into a bunch of melon-heads on two-wheelers. Kind of entertaining. I just don't want to see anyone fall off.
Second thing is, unsurprisingly, the ongoing neuroticism about and obsession with, the weather. The entire first week I was here was miserable - punctuated with an absolutely divine weekend last weekend (I got sunburnt a little bit!) and even Monday was pretty good. Now, having grown up in Australia where wide open spaces are not an especial privilege (except if you live in inner-Sydney I guess) I cracked a chuckle on the street (strict no-no anywhere in the world i suppose -makes you look like a bit of a nutter) when I saw people in BIKINIS sunbaking on the Redcliffe Square Gardens just up the road. It is a common lawned area that is locked in the evenings, but when the sun was out, people were lying there catching rays. I found that absolutely bizarre. It seems unnatural (and a little brave) to me to lie scantily clad in a garden that is in full view of surrounding 4 story terrace houses.
But each to their pasty-skinned own i guess!
Some big news here lately has been the recent smoking ban. It is now absolutely illegal in the UK to smoke anywhere that is not completely outdoors. I have seen some amusing debates on the likes of Sky and BBC where they have pulled in a 40 a day smoker, croaking her way through the irritating consequences of the ban on her life, alongside a self-righteous loner who is happy that he will now be able to enjoy is solitary pint in smoke-free solitude. Hurrah. I must confess it was a weird novelty to get home last Saturday in the early-hours and not reek of smoke.
The other weird thing about getting home at 3.30 am, was that the sun was already rising. Now THAT dear friends, is damned hard to get used to. Especially since it is not properly dark until around 10.30pm. My jet lag (which was already fairly annoying) was made even harder to bear by my body's stubborn determination to awaken at 6am regardless of the time I went to bed. The benefits of long days however, are that, given the erratic weather, the longer the day the greater the likelihood of sunshine. (See I am starting to get fixated on the weather already!)
Running around here is not as easy as I would like - although once you get down to the river, the Chelsea Embankment is not a bad run. Unfortunately, I am out of running action for perhaps one more day as I have blisters on my heels, basically because I was stupid enough to wear new shoes when I walked to the shop. They hacked up my heels so fast it was astonishing. And given that I start work soon I don't want to aggravate them further.
Oh yeah, work. So I have a job. 3 month contract through a legal recruiter. Doing some hopefully interesting work with this organisation. ;-)
Anyway I've been noticing silly little things and I want to write them on here now before I stop noticing them and they become normal.
So first thing is - apparently road helmets are not compulsory here. I am not sure why this bothers me, given that I am entirely disinterested in cycling anywhere, ever. However some seldom used neuron in my brain seems to remember a graphic advertising campaign when helmets were made compulsory in Australia. Something to do with a watermelon smashing on a road?? (Have I imagined this?) So basically when I am walking down the street seeing all these un-helmeted cyclists, they transform into a bunch of melon-heads on two-wheelers. Kind of entertaining. I just don't want to see anyone fall off.
Second thing is, unsurprisingly, the ongoing neuroticism about and obsession with, the weather. The entire first week I was here was miserable - punctuated with an absolutely divine weekend last weekend (I got sunburnt a little bit!) and even Monday was pretty good. Now, having grown up in Australia where wide open spaces are not an especial privilege (except if you live in inner-Sydney I guess) I cracked a chuckle on the street (strict no-no anywhere in the world i suppose -makes you look like a bit of a nutter) when I saw people in BIKINIS sunbaking on the Redcliffe Square Gardens just up the road. It is a common lawned area that is locked in the evenings, but when the sun was out, people were lying there catching rays. I found that absolutely bizarre. It seems unnatural (and a little brave) to me to lie scantily clad in a garden that is in full view of surrounding 4 story terrace houses.
But each to their pasty-skinned own i guess!
Some big news here lately has been the recent smoking ban. It is now absolutely illegal in the UK to smoke anywhere that is not completely outdoors. I have seen some amusing debates on the likes of Sky and BBC where they have pulled in a 40 a day smoker, croaking her way through the irritating consequences of the ban on her life, alongside a self-righteous loner who is happy that he will now be able to enjoy is solitary pint in smoke-free solitude. Hurrah. I must confess it was a weird novelty to get home last Saturday in the early-hours and not reek of smoke.
The other weird thing about getting home at 3.30 am, was that the sun was already rising. Now THAT dear friends, is damned hard to get used to. Especially since it is not properly dark until around 10.30pm. My jet lag (which was already fairly annoying) was made even harder to bear by my body's stubborn determination to awaken at 6am regardless of the time I went to bed. The benefits of long days however, are that, given the erratic weather, the longer the day the greater the likelihood of sunshine. (See I am starting to get fixated on the weather already!)
Running around here is not as easy as I would like - although once you get down to the river, the Chelsea Embankment is not a bad run. Unfortunately, I am out of running action for perhaps one more day as I have blisters on my heels, basically because I was stupid enough to wear new shoes when I walked to the shop. They hacked up my heels so fast it was astonishing. And given that I start work soon I don't want to aggravate them further.
Oh yeah, work. So I have a job. 3 month contract through a legal recruiter. Doing some hopefully interesting work with this organisation. ;-)
Monday, July 09, 2007
I am.....
......GOING TO SEE ANGUS AND JULIA STONE TONIGHT IN LONDON (alone probably!)
Yayayayaya.
New pics on the photostream btw.
Yayayayaya.
New pics on the photostream btw.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Three Virgo's Walk Into A Bar.....
.....one says "let's make a list", the second says "well I'm going to have to be the one that writes it", the third says nothing and knows that he could do it far better than the other two. The third also orders some champagne.
I had a lovely dinner Monday night with Frilly and an old colleague of hers. We ate at a little restaurant - Tom's Kitchen - which is I think like a side-project of a famous chef. I'm sorry, I've forgotten his name but I assume it is Tom something...... Anyway, as it turns out - we were all virgos and had a relatively entertaining discussion (among others) about our shared traits. I wasn't attempting a joke with that first paragraph (well I sort of was) - but virgos in my readership will be amused I'm sure.
I ate a delicious grilled tuna nicoise salad, and consumed copious amounts of champagne, and suffered the entire day yesterday because of it. I actually did very little apart from sit transfixed as it HAILED in the middle of summer (as depicted in the video below).
Sunday night I popped over to an old school and uni friend of dad's place - who is now the Minister of State for Climate Change here. I hereby publicly vouch for his cooking - absolutely delicious - Thai Pork Chops and mushrooms. Yummmmmy!
Monday I had an interview with an agency who called me three hours later to offer me work (that didn't pay enough ;-) and then I had another interview that will potentially become work in September, once I have finished the GDLP requirements. So, things are simmering away on that front, happily.
Last night I caught a train with an old family friend, up to Cheshire and am currently writing this from his cottage. I had a lengthy conversation with him on the train about how, even though leaving Australia entails saying goodbye to for example, nice weather, great lifestyle, comparatively cheap cost of living etc - living in the UK brings new treats, such as being able to visit friends in 300 year old cottages. Yes, this house is older than post-settlement Australia.
People who have found me on Facebook (new addiction) will have noticed my current status which is "Adelle is in Cheshire, and coming to terms with the fact that living in the UK means that "weekends in Europe" is actually a phrase that exists." Yes people, I anticipate a short sojourn in Europe in the next four weeks. Honestly, the tickets are so cheap, and now with all the bombing plots etc people are a bit antsy about travelling. Not me!
My final thought for this post is on the terror stuff. I can't help but be rather envious of the way in which the Prime Minister and Home Secretary have chosen their words carefully on the subject - careful not to make statements that have the effect of demonising all Muslims. John Howard is probably champing at the bit for a plot to be foiled in Australia so that he can roll out his nasty, divisive, xenophobic rhetoric and claw his way back up a few points in the polls.
Political nuts might be surprised to hear that the NT Aboriginal Stuff has also made the news here -the mates I saw on Friday night seemed to know a fair bit about it, which was surprising.
Anyhoo, am jumping out of my skin as Kim is arriving here soon, and I get to meet Tilly (her daughter). Will put photo's on ASAP.
I had a lovely dinner Monday night with Frilly and an old colleague of hers. We ate at a little restaurant - Tom's Kitchen - which is I think like a side-project of a famous chef. I'm sorry, I've forgotten his name but I assume it is Tom something...... Anyway, as it turns out - we were all virgos and had a relatively entertaining discussion (among others) about our shared traits. I wasn't attempting a joke with that first paragraph (well I sort of was) - but virgos in my readership will be amused I'm sure.
I ate a delicious grilled tuna nicoise salad, and consumed copious amounts of champagne, and suffered the entire day yesterday because of it. I actually did very little apart from sit transfixed as it HAILED in the middle of summer (as depicted in the video below).
Sunday night I popped over to an old school and uni friend of dad's place - who is now the Minister of State for Climate Change here. I hereby publicly vouch for his cooking - absolutely delicious - Thai Pork Chops and mushrooms. Yummmmmy!
Monday I had an interview with an agency who called me three hours later to offer me work (that didn't pay enough ;-) and then I had another interview that will potentially become work in September, once I have finished the GDLP requirements. So, things are simmering away on that front, happily.
Last night I caught a train with an old family friend, up to Cheshire and am currently writing this from his cottage. I had a lengthy conversation with him on the train about how, even though leaving Australia entails saying goodbye to for example, nice weather, great lifestyle, comparatively cheap cost of living etc - living in the UK brings new treats, such as being able to visit friends in 300 year old cottages. Yes, this house is older than post-settlement Australia.
People who have found me on Facebook (new addiction) will have noticed my current status which is "Adelle is in Cheshire, and coming to terms with the fact that living in the UK means that "weekends in Europe" is actually a phrase that exists." Yes people, I anticipate a short sojourn in Europe in the next four weeks. Honestly, the tickets are so cheap, and now with all the bombing plots etc people are a bit antsy about travelling. Not me!
My final thought for this post is on the terror stuff. I can't help but be rather envious of the way in which the Prime Minister and Home Secretary have chosen their words carefully on the subject - careful not to make statements that have the effect of demonising all Muslims. John Howard is probably champing at the bit for a plot to be foiled in Australia so that he can roll out his nasty, divisive, xenophobic rhetoric and claw his way back up a few points in the polls.
Political nuts might be surprised to hear that the NT Aboriginal Stuff has also made the news here -the mates I saw on Friday night seemed to know a fair bit about it, which was surprising.
Anyhoo, am jumping out of my skin as Kim is arriving here soon, and I get to meet Tilly (her daughter). Will put photo's on ASAP.
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