I'm officially the furthest away from home I've EVER been! After a gruelling 21 hour flight, I now find myself on t'other side of the world in Australia and shit the bed, I'm loving it! Granted the first day or so was jet lag hell, but I've now settled into the relaxed vibe and routine of Brisbane City life and have found that I've slipped into it really rather well. The main thing I've picked up on is that it's not like any city in the UK, which is generally full of busy people rushing around, getting impatient and pissed off with each other. None of that here and it's quite liberating. Not missing London one iota at the moment and can't see that I'll start to in the next two weeks of being here.
Although I'm only three days into the holiday I feel like I've already experienced so much. Course we're here to catch up with all of The Boy's family and friends (if you didn't know he's Australian), and on my first night was thrown in at the deep end and met the whole of his crew. We were introduced in true Aussie style with a full on BBQ, drinking session and little garden camp fire at one of his mates house. As well as it being fun times, it was also to help piece together the host's garden after it got trashed in the floods. It's amazing that five or so months on since it happened everything seems to have been put back together rather well and you'd never have guessed it even occurred. Crazy.
Anyhoo, the guys did much digging and hoeing...I was there more for the morale support and onlooking. I think I did good with that. I didn't do so well when I came face to face with a large praying mantis, freaked out and spilt my cider. Typically lived up to the wimpy Pommy stereotype there.
Also much loving the cafe culture here. Taking a wonder down to one of the many good coffee shops in the warm 'winter' sunshine and chilling out for an hour is the way every morning should start in my opinion. *Sigh* yep, could definitely see myself happily staying here for a while.
Off to see a platypus and some flying foxes tomorrow. Fuck yeah! I'll also get to hug a koala in a total cliched tourist way. Right now though I'm too relaxed to type any more so will sign off.
Ciao for now,
RoseC -x-
Monday, 15 August 2011
Monday, 8 August 2011
My mind, in one night
It's 8am, on a Monday, I don't have to go to work, yet I am awake. Not a happy bunny right now.
Most of the time I'm one of these sleepers that as soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm gone. Unfortunately this wasn't the case last night as all manner of thoughts and sounds invaded my head meaning that I felt restless and alert until two o'clock this morning. I don't actually remember another recent time when I was able to stay awake until 2am because as a side effect to my quarter-life crisis I now like to be tucked up in bed by midnight at the latest. There's no raving anymore, getting off my tits and dancing like a twat until the early hours; there are very few late night living room rendezvous and conversations that go past 11pm; and there's definitely a severe lack of all night drinking at pub lock-ins. All things I was happy to do just two years ago, but now when read back sound more like a page out of Trainspotting (but in a well written English accent) rather than something I'd get up to. Now, I'm generally out for the count by 10:30pm and grouchy if I don't get my eight hours.
I'm not entirely sure what kept me up last night, perhaps a mixture of things: the excitement of going to Australia in two days, the relief of getting my bike back, the loneliness of being in bed on my own after sharing it with The Boy for the last three nights. The latter is a weird one - like he's never here for more than a couple of nights, but after he goes I always feel a bit more vulnerable and scared that somethings going to happen, so it usually takes me a little longer to settle on a Sunday night. Anyway, enough of the soppy stuff...
The long and short of it was that my mind was racing with these thoughts, then other thoughts from them grew, such as what's going to happen about the leaky ceiling in my room? When I'm in Aus what time should I take my pill because it has to be taken at the same time every day, but everything there is upside down time wise? What is the time difference between here and there? What do I need to pack/buy? When I go to get a new bike lock for my bike, will I be able to take it into the shop with me so it doesn't get nicked?
My little brain was working over time to think up all of these questions, but it wasn't bothering to logically magic up any of the answers, so I tried a few well tested methods to put an end to it. First, I wanked. I seem to have that bloke skill that after I climax I can nod off into a satisfied sleep with a smile on my face. Unfortunately that didn't work last night, perhaps because of my already erotically filled weekend so my satisfaction metre was at it's limit.
Next I read. At the minute I'm leafing my way through Danny Wallace's, Friends Like These - a light hearted tale about refinding forgotten friends, which I'm enjoying but I think he uses too many itals, so every other word is really emphasised and you end up reading as if you sound a bit special. Generally a couple of pages will do it, not because it's a boring book, but I'm just not very good at reading before bed with soft lighting. It makes me sleepy. Apparently it wasn't going to help last night either.
Running out of ideas, my last ditch attempt was to convince myself that I was really tired, think about sleeping and count. Not sheep, when I count I'm not sure it is anything, it's just the monotony of numbers that sends me off. I guess for this reason I could never be a mathematician...well that and the fact that I am crap at math.
It started to work, I had my fan blowing a nice breeze on me, my eyes were feeling heavy, the numbers were steadily going up, sleep was so close I could smell it , finally, at 1:30am.
Ahh, bliss.
Mind is turning off now...
No more silly questions, or thinking...
Just sleep...
If only that rustling noise would stop...
Hang on. Rustling noise? Shit, perhaps that mouse is back.
Bollocks, I can't sleep if I know there's a mouse in my fucking room. I'm gonna have to put the light on and see.
Flicking the light on woke me up again instantly, like sleep had never been knocking on my eyelids. I got up out of bed, turned off the fan so I could hear things properly and walked over to where I thought I heard the noise. Nope, couldn't see anything and the noise had sort of stopped, so I froze to see if it would return. It did, by the doors that led to the back garden - I have doors in my room that open straight to the back garden, which is why it's totally plausible that there was a mouse in my room - then my mind turned to my bike being outside. No, Rose, shake your head, refocus. Mouse. Right, yes, mouse.
I definitely couldn't see anything, but there was a tapping at the door. I don't like noises that tap at the door, especially if I'm going to be faced with some sort of unsuspecting, startled animal, but the only way to find out was to pull back the curtains.
As I raised my hand, and my fingers twitched in anticipation of pulling back the red fabric that obstructed my view of the big, bad night time world of London. I heard a second noise as well as the rustling. It sounded like a fence wobbling. Perhaps it was our local fox, which I'm told often tries to scale it to get into our yard. Bollocks, was I about to come face to face with a fox? I'm not very good with foxes. The last one I stared out had a look in his eye that said, "If you come a step closer to me I'll rip off both your fucking legs and give you rabies just for the fun of it." I hate city foxes. They all look like they're on crack.
Anyway, enough was enough. I needed to find out if there was a mouse in my room, or a fox outside the door so I could stop the pounding in my heart and just GET SOME FUCKING SLEEP.
I manned up, grabbed the curtain and swiped it back faster than the Sundance Kid would draw his gun (maybe).
There was nothing outside. More importantly there was nothing inside, no small creatures, not even a spider. There was just the rain, which was now blowing onto the windows of my door. Aahh so that explained it all!
*Sigh* well that was that. Everything had been checked out and it was fine. It was fine, but it was now 2am and I was pissed with myself that I wasn't asleep yet. Back to bed, back to counting, the noise was just the rain, all other thoughts can wait and finally sleep came.
Today I think I'll need to put even more concealer on around my eyes than normal to cover the extra dark circles. And why does this sort of thing always happen when you've got so much shit to do the next day? Cleaning, finalisation of job application, list-making of all the things I need to pack. I fear a granny nap this afternoon may be in order, but please don't judge me for it just wish me sweet dreams.
RoseC -x-
Most of the time I'm one of these sleepers that as soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm gone. Unfortunately this wasn't the case last night as all manner of thoughts and sounds invaded my head meaning that I felt restless and alert until two o'clock this morning. I don't actually remember another recent time when I was able to stay awake until 2am because as a side effect to my quarter-life crisis I now like to be tucked up in bed by midnight at the latest. There's no raving anymore, getting off my tits and dancing like a twat until the early hours; there are very few late night living room rendezvous and conversations that go past 11pm; and there's definitely a severe lack of all night drinking at pub lock-ins. All things I was happy to do just two years ago, but now when read back sound more like a page out of Trainspotting (but in a well written English accent) rather than something I'd get up to. Now, I'm generally out for the count by 10:30pm and grouchy if I don't get my eight hours.
I'm not entirely sure what kept me up last night, perhaps a mixture of things: the excitement of going to Australia in two days, the relief of getting my bike back, the loneliness of being in bed on my own after sharing it with The Boy for the last three nights. The latter is a weird one - like he's never here for more than a couple of nights, but after he goes I always feel a bit more vulnerable and scared that somethings going to happen, so it usually takes me a little longer to settle on a Sunday night. Anyway, enough of the soppy stuff...
The long and short of it was that my mind was racing with these thoughts, then other thoughts from them grew, such as what's going to happen about the leaky ceiling in my room? When I'm in Aus what time should I take my pill because it has to be taken at the same time every day, but everything there is upside down time wise? What is the time difference between here and there? What do I need to pack/buy? When I go to get a new bike lock for my bike, will I be able to take it into the shop with me so it doesn't get nicked?
My little brain was working over time to think up all of these questions, but it wasn't bothering to logically magic up any of the answers, so I tried a few well tested methods to put an end to it. First, I wanked. I seem to have that bloke skill that after I climax I can nod off into a satisfied sleep with a smile on my face. Unfortunately that didn't work last night, perhaps because of my already erotically filled weekend so my satisfaction metre was at it's limit.
Next I read. At the minute I'm leafing my way through Danny Wallace's, Friends Like These - a light hearted tale about refinding forgotten friends, which I'm enjoying but I think he uses too many itals, so every other word is really emphasised and you end up reading as if you sound a bit special. Generally a couple of pages will do it, not because it's a boring book, but I'm just not very good at reading before bed with soft lighting. It makes me sleepy. Apparently it wasn't going to help last night either.
Running out of ideas, my last ditch attempt was to convince myself that I was really tired, think about sleeping and count. Not sheep, when I count I'm not sure it is anything, it's just the monotony of numbers that sends me off. I guess for this reason I could never be a mathematician...well that and the fact that I am crap at math.
It started to work, I had my fan blowing a nice breeze on me, my eyes were feeling heavy, the numbers were steadily going up, sleep was so close I could smell it , finally, at 1:30am.
Ahh, bliss.
Mind is turning off now...
No more silly questions, or thinking...
Just sleep...
If only that rustling noise would stop...
Hang on. Rustling noise? Shit, perhaps that mouse is back.
Bollocks, I can't sleep if I know there's a mouse in my fucking room. I'm gonna have to put the light on and see.
Flicking the light on woke me up again instantly, like sleep had never been knocking on my eyelids. I got up out of bed, turned off the fan so I could hear things properly and walked over to where I thought I heard the noise. Nope, couldn't see anything and the noise had sort of stopped, so I froze to see if it would return. It did, by the doors that led to the back garden - I have doors in my room that open straight to the back garden, which is why it's totally plausible that there was a mouse in my room - then my mind turned to my bike being outside. No, Rose, shake your head, refocus. Mouse. Right, yes, mouse.
I definitely couldn't see anything, but there was a tapping at the door. I don't like noises that tap at the door, especially if I'm going to be faced with some sort of unsuspecting, startled animal, but the only way to find out was to pull back the curtains.
As I raised my hand, and my fingers twitched in anticipation of pulling back the red fabric that obstructed my view of the big, bad night time world of London. I heard a second noise as well as the rustling. It sounded like a fence wobbling. Perhaps it was our local fox, which I'm told often tries to scale it to get into our yard. Bollocks, was I about to come face to face with a fox? I'm not very good with foxes. The last one I stared out had a look in his eye that said, "If you come a step closer to me I'll rip off both your fucking legs and give you rabies just for the fun of it." I hate city foxes. They all look like they're on crack.
Anyway, enough was enough. I needed to find out if there was a mouse in my room, or a fox outside the door so I could stop the pounding in my heart and just GET SOME FUCKING SLEEP.
I manned up, grabbed the curtain and swiped it back faster than the Sundance Kid would draw his gun (maybe).
There was nothing outside. More importantly there was nothing inside, no small creatures, not even a spider. There was just the rain, which was now blowing onto the windows of my door. Aahh so that explained it all!
*Sigh* well that was that. Everything had been checked out and it was fine. It was fine, but it was now 2am and I was pissed with myself that I wasn't asleep yet. Back to bed, back to counting, the noise was just the rain, all other thoughts can wait and finally sleep came.
Today I think I'll need to put even more concealer on around my eyes than normal to cover the extra dark circles. And why does this sort of thing always happen when you've got so much shit to do the next day? Cleaning, finalisation of job application, list-making of all the things I need to pack. I fear a granny nap this afternoon may be in order, but please don't judge me for it just wish me sweet dreams.
RoseC -x-
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Bordom, books, bonking, beer and bikes
I'm dehydrated. Since school broke up two weeks ago I've had a beer/cider/bottle of wine pretty much every night...apart from those two nights this week where I made a conscious effort to stay away from the booze. It started with end of term goodbye drinks, followed by hello and catch up drinks with the folks from Leicester and then since returning to London it slipped into boredom drinking and sharing a bottle or two with The Boy. Don't get the wrong idea though, I've not been out of my tree for the last two weeks, I've just remembered how to enjoy a drink every day a la student days. It's impossible to do that during term time.
Long and short of it is I've replaced the several bottles of water I used to drink with alcohol, not great, but there's no point stopping now as I'm jetting off to Australia in three days (woohoo!) to meet the rest of The Boy's family and friends, and catch up with people who were over here and are now over there. I anticipate much drinking whilst catching up with folks. Practice makes perfect and that I believe extends to alcoholism.
The first two weeks of the summer break have been a mixture of relaxation and frustration. I enjoyed the feeling of not getting up for work every morning, or having to try and reason with teenagers that doing their school work is a good thing. Being back in Leic was great as I had plenty of people to hang around with. Even getting back to London for the first day or so was fine...but then the boredom set in. It's rubbish being in London when:
a) all of your other friends and boyfriend have 9-5 jobs so there's literally no one to hang around with,
b) you're so skint that you can't actually afford to do anything, especially before going to the other side of the world, and it's tough to even afford the bus fare and...
c) ...you're free mode of transport i.e. my bike, has been stuck on one of those bike parking things because my extra reinforced steel D-lock had collapsed and so I couldn't get my bike free. This has basically left me house bound for the last two weeks.
Boredom set in rather rapidly so I took to reading - I re-read Ian McEwan's The Cement Garden, I forgot how dark it is - applying for jobs, strimming the lawn to within an inch of its life, and annoyingly trying to figure out how to set my bike free. After getting quotes from lock smiths it was gonna cost me nearly £100, more than the bike's worth. I toyed with the idea of buying bolt cutters, or hiring some sort of heavy duty power tool but I didn't have a pigging clue what I'd need. I even went so far as to ring the police and the fire brigade to see if they could help, but to no avail. So what does any girl do when she's in distress and flapping around like a dry fish? She turns to her boyfriend of course. Not exactly playing to my modern feminist side but fuck it, I was up shit creek.
After a week and a half of driving The Boy up the wall with me not making any decisions on how to free my bike he finally took the matter in hand. I thought if I kept pushing him he'd have an Incredible Hulk moment and chew through it with his teeth. Instead he did the sensible thing - found an angle grinder and today on a London street stood there and cut through the fucker. YEAH! I'm going out with a real power wielding man now GRRR!! I'm glad that's sorted before heading to Australia and my bike is now safely parked in the garden.
Now all I need to do is finish the job application and then begin the laborious task of packing and figuring out what to take to t'other side of the world. I hate packing. All in all I've not been very glamorous, or very Sex And The City lately....or well there's been the sex, lots of it, and very good, but then that's not the kind of writing suitable for this blog so I shall say no more. All in all London is proving to be a little bit tedious for me at the moment. Perhaps there needs to be a change in the wind soon and to take things in a different direction...
Speak soon!
Rose C -x-
Long and short of it is I've replaced the several bottles of water I used to drink with alcohol, not great, but there's no point stopping now as I'm jetting off to Australia in three days (woohoo!) to meet the rest of The Boy's family and friends, and catch up with people who were over here and are now over there. I anticipate much drinking whilst catching up with folks. Practice makes perfect and that I believe extends to alcoholism.
The first two weeks of the summer break have been a mixture of relaxation and frustration. I enjoyed the feeling of not getting up for work every morning, or having to try and reason with teenagers that doing their school work is a good thing. Being back in Leic was great as I had plenty of people to hang around with. Even getting back to London for the first day or so was fine...but then the boredom set in. It's rubbish being in London when:
a) all of your other friends and boyfriend have 9-5 jobs so there's literally no one to hang around with,
b) you're so skint that you can't actually afford to do anything, especially before going to the other side of the world, and it's tough to even afford the bus fare and...
c) ...you're free mode of transport i.e. my bike, has been stuck on one of those bike parking things because my extra reinforced steel D-lock had collapsed and so I couldn't get my bike free. This has basically left me house bound for the last two weeks.
Boredom set in rather rapidly so I took to reading - I re-read Ian McEwan's The Cement Garden, I forgot how dark it is - applying for jobs, strimming the lawn to within an inch of its life, and annoyingly trying to figure out how to set my bike free. After getting quotes from lock smiths it was gonna cost me nearly £100, more than the bike's worth. I toyed with the idea of buying bolt cutters, or hiring some sort of heavy duty power tool but I didn't have a pigging clue what I'd need. I even went so far as to ring the police and the fire brigade to see if they could help, but to no avail. So what does any girl do when she's in distress and flapping around like a dry fish? She turns to her boyfriend of course. Not exactly playing to my modern feminist side but fuck it, I was up shit creek.
After a week and a half of driving The Boy up the wall with me not making any decisions on how to free my bike he finally took the matter in hand. I thought if I kept pushing him he'd have an Incredible Hulk moment and chew through it with his teeth. Instead he did the sensible thing - found an angle grinder and today on a London street stood there and cut through the fucker. YEAH! I'm going out with a real power wielding man now GRRR!! I'm glad that's sorted before heading to Australia and my bike is now safely parked in the garden.
Now all I need to do is finish the job application and then begin the laborious task of packing and figuring out what to take to t'other side of the world. I hate packing. All in all I've not been very glamorous, or very Sex And The City lately....or well there's been the sex, lots of it, and very good, but then that's not the kind of writing suitable for this blog so I shall say no more. All in all London is proving to be a little bit tedious for me at the moment. Perhaps there needs to be a change in the wind soon and to take things in a different direction...
Speak soon!
Rose C -x-
Tuesday, 2 August 2011
Tell me about yourself...?
Even though I keep a blog, which is essentially about me and what I get up to, I have to admit that writing about yourself on job application forms never gets any easier.
For the last two hours I've been filling out the "tell us about your personal qualities and why you're right for this job" section, and it's always the bit I loathe the most. Thankfully when applying for most journo jobs they only want you to send in your CV and a covering email, so when I'm facing a more formal application form I'm slightly thrown. No matter how many times I do it trying to sum up your personality on one sheet of A4 in a professional yet engaging way is bloody hard. I reckon it's tougher than any prospective feature you might be faced with, even if the brief of your feature might be to write about the sex life of a gnat................which after a quick Google search would actually prove tricky, but I bet it would still be easier than facing the 'about you' question.
I think what worries me the most when writing it is getting right the fine balance between making yourself sound indispensable, memorable and completely right for the job, but avoiding sounding like you're so far up your own arse you may choke on your own tongue. It's tricky. Today I tackled it from a removed position and imagined I wasn't me, but someone else writing about me, then went back and changed all the third person 'she's' to 'I am'. Hopefully it will have worked, but I'll look at it tomorrow with fresh eyes.
The job, in case you're interested, is for the position of Staff Writer on WI Life magazine. And yes, by 'WI' I do indeed mean the Women's Institute. Trust me, these last few jobs I've gone for have surprised me too - first for a gardening magazine (which I didn't get) and now the WI. I'm sure I'm still in my 20's right?
*Sigh* well at least that mission is done for now. Next job is learning how to retrieve my bike, which is currently stuck in SE London because my bike lock broke and now I have know idea how I'm going to get it back. Bolt cutters may be required....or someone who's fucking awesome at picking locks, and I promise I'll be there to confirm to the police that it is actually my bike and we're not just a couple of chancers trying to rob it.
Till tomorrow...
Rose C -x-
For the last two hours I've been filling out the "tell us about your personal qualities and why you're right for this job" section, and it's always the bit I loathe the most. Thankfully when applying for most journo jobs they only want you to send in your CV and a covering email, so when I'm facing a more formal application form I'm slightly thrown. No matter how many times I do it trying to sum up your personality on one sheet of A4 in a professional yet engaging way is bloody hard. I reckon it's tougher than any prospective feature you might be faced with, even if the brief of your feature might be to write about the sex life of a gnat................which after a quick Google search would actually prove tricky, but I bet it would still be easier than facing the 'about you' question.
I think what worries me the most when writing it is getting right the fine balance between making yourself sound indispensable, memorable and completely right for the job, but avoiding sounding like you're so far up your own arse you may choke on your own tongue. It's tricky. Today I tackled it from a removed position and imagined I wasn't me, but someone else writing about me, then went back and changed all the third person 'she's' to 'I am'. Hopefully it will have worked, but I'll look at it tomorrow with fresh eyes.
The job, in case you're interested, is for the position of Staff Writer on WI Life magazine. And yes, by 'WI' I do indeed mean the Women's Institute. Trust me, these last few jobs I've gone for have surprised me too - first for a gardening magazine (which I didn't get) and now the WI. I'm sure I'm still in my 20's right?
*Sigh* well at least that mission is done for now. Next job is learning how to retrieve my bike, which is currently stuck in SE London because my bike lock broke and now I have know idea how I'm going to get it back. Bolt cutters may be required....or someone who's fucking awesome at picking locks, and I promise I'll be there to confirm to the police that it is actually my bike and we're not just a couple of chancers trying to rob it.
Till tomorrow...
Rose C -x-
Monday, 1 August 2011
Zoo Days!
Just over a year ago a couple of my very close friends asked me to be Godmother to their two youngest boys. Excited and honoured that they asked, because I'm very close to the family and love those kids loads, I of course said "yes". I take my role as a Godmum pretty seriously and although I'm in London I try to get back to Leicester as often as possible so I can see them at Christmas and birthdays, and I'll always do my best to teach them the right things and morals - although trying to teach a two year old morals is quite tricky. We've just about conquered the concept of sharing...oh and I also taught him how to safely make a cup of tea (don't worry I didn't let a toddler play with boiling water, that would be stupid).
But as well as having this big moral duty and responsibility to see them on the right path, because that's what I was told I had to do when I was 'sworn in', we also get to do lots of fun stuff to! So when I went back to Leic last week to visit the fam, I also got to go with the boys on a trip to Twycross zoo with their two older brothers and their mum. For Dom, who's five, the big thing he was looking forward to was the flamingos. Odd choice as those things have been there ever since I was his age and there are loads of bigger, more interesting animals, but kudos to him to picking something a bit more unusual and original! For the younger tyke it's was his very first trip to see the animals! And turns out he was particularly fascinated and amused by the Giant Tortoises and the "dinosaurs" - massive lizards. Very cool. Anyway, after this little intro I thought I'd do a bit of a picture blog today so you can see what we got up to at Twycross Zoo...
By the end of the day I was all "aww'd" out as there were loads of baby things around too. Seriously if I could have stolen a baby meerkat I would have!! Only disappointment of the day was not being able to see the new snow leopards and cubs because their area was being cleaned out. Rest of it was awesome, we saw loads. Now just bring on the paltypodes when I go to a zoo in Australia. Yess!
RoseC -x-
But as well as having this big moral duty and responsibility to see them on the right path, because that's what I was told I had to do when I was 'sworn in', we also get to do lots of fun stuff to! So when I went back to Leic last week to visit the fam, I also got to go with the boys on a trip to Twycross zoo with their two older brothers and their mum. For Dom, who's five, the big thing he was looking forward to was the flamingos. Odd choice as those things have been there ever since I was his age and there are loads of bigger, more interesting animals, but kudos to him to picking something a bit more unusual and original! For the younger tyke it's was his very first trip to see the animals! And turns out he was particularly fascinated and amused by the Giant Tortoises and the "dinosaurs" - massive lizards. Very cool. Anyway, after this little intro I thought I'd do a bit of a picture blog today so you can see what we got up to at Twycross Zoo...
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| The youngest and his mum looking at the Prairie Dogs |
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| Sleeping Leopard |
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| Orangutan mum and her little baby. Aww. |
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| Two big brother's and Dom looking at the highly anticipated flamingos! |
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| Spectacled owls |
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| Boys on the new elephant trail. Never had this at the zoo when I was little! |
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| Bonobo monkey drinking from a bottle. |
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| Boys looking at the penguins. That one actually fell in just after I took the photo much to the amusement of little Lauchlan. |
RoseC -x-
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
CAUTION! Exhausted blogger
I'm feeling monumentally tired. It's that kind of tired where you stop caring about what's going on around you because you've totally entered zombie zone and flicked yourself to auto-pilot.
I knew I'd reached this point after walking back from London Bridge to drop The Boy off to get his train and as I strolled home in the rain I didn't care about getting wet, which I usually would; I didn't care that my favourite pair of baggy jeans were dragging on the floor and rather than fussily roll them up so they don't get even more tattered at the bottoms, I let the rain soak into them and watched as the water line steadily rose up my leg. Looking like I'm on a come down, I ambled home at a steady pace, eyes glazed with exhaustion and lips cracked from dehydration.
What's weird is that I was thinking all the way home how to open this blog and I had it pretty much word perfect, but now I'm here typing it all down it didn't come out sounding how I wanted it to at all. It's not quite as concise and snappy as I expected it to be. Tired mind 1. Rose's creative writing skills nil. I can only apologise, dear reader, for how the rest of this post may evolve or indeed digress...
On my walk home in the rain, as well as enjoying the pitter patter of the drops on my very pretty rose umbrella (which stands out and shits on the normal dull black or blue umbrellas most conservative city dwellers own) I was trying to decide just how I managed to get to such an exhausted state and here's what I've managed to come up with:
Finally though, I can see a break in the mayhem as I'm heading back to Leicester for some chill-out time to celebrate my Dad's birthday (shit need to get pressie sorted), catch up with friends and God-sons, and what I'm most looking forward to is seeing my brother. He's finally back from Maple Leaf Land and I've not seen him since last October, so having as he calls it "a good yarn" over a pint or five will be sweet as.
Also can't wait to take wandering walks in the rain back there, a bit like I have tonight, only hopefully I'll be more alert as I stroll through the fields breathing in fresh air rather than city fumes. Perhaps my topics of conversation will become a little more imaginative and exciting as I let my mind unwind and relax rather than have it move at a hundred miles an hour as I logistically think about life, where I need to be, who I need to be seeing and all that.
Right, sports day to tackle tomorrow. If everyone could keep their fingers crossed for no rain before 1pm it would be much appreciated.
Night!
RoseC -x-
I knew I'd reached this point after walking back from London Bridge to drop The Boy off to get his train and as I strolled home in the rain I didn't care about getting wet, which I usually would; I didn't care that my favourite pair of baggy jeans were dragging on the floor and rather than fussily roll them up so they don't get even more tattered at the bottoms, I let the rain soak into them and watched as the water line steadily rose up my leg. Looking like I'm on a come down, I ambled home at a steady pace, eyes glazed with exhaustion and lips cracked from dehydration.
What's weird is that I was thinking all the way home how to open this blog and I had it pretty much word perfect, but now I'm here typing it all down it didn't come out sounding how I wanted it to at all. It's not quite as concise and snappy as I expected it to be. Tired mind 1. Rose's creative writing skills nil. I can only apologise, dear reader, for how the rest of this post may evolve or indeed digress...
On my walk home in the rain, as well as enjoying the pitter patter of the drops on my very pretty rose umbrella (which stands out and shits on the normal dull black or blue umbrellas most conservative city dwellers own) I was trying to decide just how I managed to get to such an exhausted state and here's what I've managed to come up with:
- It's the last week of term at school before the summer holidays. Everyone at work is exhausted, students and teachers alike and each day passes as a countdown to when we don't have to get up at 6am every morning. Honestly, it's been pretty tough to stay motivated when the end is so freakin' close!
- I applied for a job last week for an editorial assistant position at a gardening magazine. Yes, you did read that right, a gardening magazine. Quite a jump from writing about sex and relationships I know and as much as I'd like to I don't think I could away with a subtle 'Top Tips For Frisky Al-Fresco Fun', or even a real lifer about nude gardening. As much as I'd want to go out and find an all naturist allotment group in the back-end of Britain somewhere, I just don't think it's that kind of publication. Anyway, that's by-the-by, how this has contributed to my exhaustion is the reams of written tests they sent me to complete in four days. Although it was good fun and something to really get my teeth into, it meant that all last week I was finishing work, cycling home and then sitting in front of my computer for another three hours or so to get it finished. Was I brain dead by the end of it? Shit yeah I was, but I've got an interview out of it and...
- ...that didn't stop me going out for The Boy's birthday last week. Unfortunately I got hijacked by his housemates who coerced me into missing my train home and plying me with more red wine than is legally allowed on a school night. Ouch. Celebrations then continued into Friday with a bottle of very nice champers and then a night out in Brixton on Saturday with friends, then all topped up with a splash of Sunday cocktail drinking.
- The social life continued to dominate last night as I met The Boy's cousin and his missus who are over from Australia. Awesome couple, really easy to get along with, and like a drink. The most important thing I learnt last night was an Australian's ability to say the word "cunt" without sounding offensive. It was only a little way into the conversation that I realised the C-bomb was being dropped every fourth word or so and I wasn't even alarmed. Amazing! The Cousin made it sound like any other swear word that could have been on a par with "shit" or "crap" and they're the mildest. After a drink I felt confident enough that maybe I could join in, but as I expected the C-word sounds way too harsh when spat out in an English accent and I actually felt myself shudder when I said it. Doesn't suit me at all, so I reverted to calling everyone a "twat" instead. As we went for Mexican it was only appropriate that we had tequila...for a starter and desert. Didn't make getting up this morning too easy though.
Finally though, I can see a break in the mayhem as I'm heading back to Leicester for some chill-out time to celebrate my Dad's birthday (shit need to get pressie sorted), catch up with friends and God-sons, and what I'm most looking forward to is seeing my brother. He's finally back from Maple Leaf Land and I've not seen him since last October, so having as he calls it "a good yarn" over a pint or five will be sweet as.
Also can't wait to take wandering walks in the rain back there, a bit like I have tonight, only hopefully I'll be more alert as I stroll through the fields breathing in fresh air rather than city fumes. Perhaps my topics of conversation will become a little more imaginative and exciting as I let my mind unwind and relax rather than have it move at a hundred miles an hour as I logistically think about life, where I need to be, who I need to be seeing and all that.
Right, sports day to tackle tomorrow. If everyone could keep their fingers crossed for no rain before 1pm it would be much appreciated.
Night!
RoseC -x-
Sunday, 10 July 2011
Little Shops Of Horror!
*Sigh*...I'm totally annoyed right now. I'm sorry that I've not posted for a little while and now the first time I come back it's to have a moan, but I feel I can be excused as I explained in my last post that things are a little hectic round here right now.
Anyway, that's not why I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed because today I realised that I don't like shopping. After a trip yesterday to Camden, and today to Oxford Street and not finding a single item of clothing that I want to buy has made me feel disillusioned and disappointed and hate the world of fashion right now. It also means I'm totally going against every female fibre in my body that should love shopping. Now the thought that I'm disgracing female kind is weighing on my shoulders. Argh.
It's totally not all my fault though that I can't get my head around and embrace the (hideous) new fashion of high-waisted, floral flared trousers and now I feel angry at the high-street for not considering everyones different styles. What kicked it all off was my simple desire to get a new pair of skate shoes that fit me properly. Last year I snapped up a nifty pair of DCs, but didn't try them on properly and have since found they're bit too small and make my feet hurt. Lame. So now I need another pair to try an replace my beloved pair of Etnies which I have worn out to the point that there are holes in the bottom and the back. Not ideal to wear when raining.
So, used to having endless displays of skate shoes at my disposal I thought it wouldn't be a problem to pick up a new pair. Little did I know that that the well stocked skate shop in Covent Garden had closed down, that Schuh have significantly decreased there ladies skate shoe stock and even Camden seem to be cleaning up there act of possibly knocked off DCs, that I now find my options have diminished. After three different trips to look specifically for a pair of shoes to replace the Etnies I have admitted defeat and started to accept that I am out of fashion. Skate fashion for ladies is clearly so passe, but you've got more chance of finding rocking horse shit than spotting me in high-waisted floral trousers or wedges decorated with the feathers of dead birds.
*Sigh*
There is the potential that Australia might have what I need, but I can't believe I've gotta fly to the other side of the world just to satisfy my personal style.
Fashion is lame.
Moan over, goodnight!
RoseC -x-
Anyway, that's not why I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed because today I realised that I don't like shopping. After a trip yesterday to Camden, and today to Oxford Street and not finding a single item of clothing that I want to buy has made me feel disillusioned and disappointed and hate the world of fashion right now. It also means I'm totally going against every female fibre in my body that should love shopping. Now the thought that I'm disgracing female kind is weighing on my shoulders. Argh.
It's totally not all my fault though that I can't get my head around and embrace the (hideous) new fashion of high-waisted, floral flared trousers and now I feel angry at the high-street for not considering everyones different styles. What kicked it all off was my simple desire to get a new pair of skate shoes that fit me properly. Last year I snapped up a nifty pair of DCs, but didn't try them on properly and have since found they're bit too small and make my feet hurt. Lame. So now I need another pair to try an replace my beloved pair of Etnies which I have worn out to the point that there are holes in the bottom and the back. Not ideal to wear when raining.
So, used to having endless displays of skate shoes at my disposal I thought it wouldn't be a problem to pick up a new pair. Little did I know that that the well stocked skate shop in Covent Garden had closed down, that Schuh have significantly decreased there ladies skate shoe stock and even Camden seem to be cleaning up there act of possibly knocked off DCs, that I now find my options have diminished. After three different trips to look specifically for a pair of shoes to replace the Etnies I have admitted defeat and started to accept that I am out of fashion. Skate fashion for ladies is clearly so passe, but you've got more chance of finding rocking horse shit than spotting me in high-waisted floral trousers or wedges decorated with the feathers of dead birds.
*Sigh*
There is the potential that Australia might have what I need, but I can't believe I've gotta fly to the other side of the world just to satisfy my personal style.
Fashion is lame.
Moan over, goodnight!
RoseC -x-
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