I love my mum

My mum is always forwarding on those emails about angels and friends and life lessons and send this to ten friends within the next eight minutes.

I replied to one today asking, "Mumma, why do you keep spamming me?!"

My mum's response...

Because I love you and need to remind you how precious you are and because I dont have enough to do
Mumma Bear

I love my mum!

These are a few of my favourite things

In an attempt to re-energise my blogging, I am embarking on a new series of entries about my favourite things. Because one of my favourite things is a theme! Hopefully my mum likes this more than the Song of the Day series...

Oh, hai!

*slinks back in*

Okay, so I lied.

I am a rubbish blogger. But to be honest, it doesn't really matter seeing as I now see my mother regularly and Nathan is buggering off to London so there is my readership gone.

Work is still busy and I am still getting out and having fun. With all of my friends leaving Brisbane (PS don't waste your time watching that movie, it was gosh darn awful) I have decided that I need fun new activities. Nick and I have been mooting the idea of french lessons, dodgeball and me watching him play tennis. In reality, my activities of late have consisted of swimming in the newly-rediscovered pool in my apartment complex, complaining about my air-conditioning being broken, enjoying Sunday sessions by the river, supplementing my very black wardrobe with accents of colour, planning my holiday to somewhere interesting in Asia in July, and working long hours.

So it has been difficult to find time to update my blog lately. I don't have the internet at home anymore, my neighbours have decided to secure their wi-fi, and at work I have moved from my very nice window seat to a desk facing a grey wall outside my divisional manager's office with my director sitting behind me. I am uninspired and closely monitored - not a good combination for regular or entertaining blogging.

I may or may not update this again soon...

Reader feedback

Where is the song of the day you ask?

Well, I received the following email from my mother this afternoon...

Hi Manda
Amex details below* but can I just ask for some more interesting 'Mumblepants' I'm getting sick of song of the day.
Love Ma

So I am putting song of the day on hold and working on something "more interesting". Bear with me, okay, this might take a little while.


* I have not included the list of credit card expenses my mother emailed me, you don't need to know what I've been frittering my money away on

Toot toot!

Much to my mother's dismay, I GOT MY MOTORBIKE LICENCE!

A couple of weeks ago I did the two day course at Q-Ride and (eventually) passed all the competencies. I wish someone had warned me how physically taxing learning to ride a motorbike would be. Though that was compacted by the unusually hot weather all weekend.

I declined offers of Draggin jeans (lined with kevlar) and full leathers from those who doubted me and thought I would come off the bike. Actually, I did come off the bike, but it was in a rather spectacular fashion! We were practising emergency braking at around 40-50km/h, and while I did it correctly the first few times, one time I stupidly put too much pressure on the back break and locked up the rear wheel. I felt the bike going, but then went into autopilot. I somehow managed to jump off the bike as it was falling and run away! I turned around and started apologising profusely to the instructor, but he was clapping my performance and laughing, saying that my escape was brilliant.

Apart from that, everything else went well. However we only had time to go for a one-hour road ride, so I had to go back the following Friday for a four-hour road ride and to collect my certificate. To be honest, it was a little *too* easy to get my licence...

On Wednesday this week I went into Queensland Transport and got my new licence, complete with smirking photo, and yesterday I went to Morgan and Wacker and spent and entire week's wage and then some on a jacket, helmet and gloves.

There was discussion with friends over what I should buy, with a work colleague questioning the money I was spending on it all. But what price do you put on my pretty face? And what price do you put on having your gravel rash cleaned out with a nylon scrubbing brush without any anaesthetic because your cheap jacket was shredded when you were dragged along the bitumen? So, for the sake of my safety and my mother's piece of mind, I went for the good stuff.

Now MattE and I can go out this weekend and test ride bikes!

And would the person who answered the poll on the right hand side offering to buy me a bike please leave their contact details in the comments so that I can pick them up on the way?

Hi mum!

My dear mother doesn't know how to leave comments on here, so I shall share with you her email response to my last blog entry...

The first motorbike imjury you will receive is the belting your mother is going to give you!!!!! See I do read your blog regularly. PS I still love you

Ha ha ha!

MOTORBIKE!

After talking about it for nearly five years, I am finally going to get my motorcycle licence!

I love love LOVE motorbikes. If I meet someone who has one I immediately try and wrangle a ride. I check out motorbikes as I am driving. Nathan thinks I'm crazy.

And I will be the first to admit that I know absolutely nothing about them. Apart from that I love them.

I was talking to a guy on Friday and he offered to take me for a ride, and then questioned why I didn't just get my licence. MattE seconded the motion when I raised the topic with him on Saturday. And then Sunday at the pub with my housemate's crew of mos two of them said they had their licence and that cemented my decision. Even though one of them had a massive chunk missing from his calf where he'd had a bike accident.

So Monday I rang up Morgan & Wacker and booked in for Q-Ride. The only problem was that I had to pay a deposit and they didn't take AmEx, so I had to borrow the 'rentals Visa. I called mum but it rang out, so called dad and he rather promptly gave me the details. Later that afternoon mum called me back asking what I wanted, and the conversation went like this:

Mum: What did you want the Visa for?
Moi: To pay for some lessons.
Mum: What sort of lessons?
Moi: Motorbike lessons
Mum: What?! Well then I am sure your father did not give you the credit card!
Moi: Yeah, he did.
Mum: We will talk about this this evening. *hangs up*

At dinner that night I got an earful, with mum sternly telling me that motorbikes lead to accidents and injury and death and graveyards. Then she got my nephews to agree with her, so I was told off by her and a seven year old and a four year old.

So, my family is mad at me, but I am so excited that I get butterflies in my stomach everytime I think about it!

Place your bets people - what will be the first bike-related injury I sustain?

I lied

Okay, so I am a crap blogger.

But I don't have much to say. Or, actually, I don't have much interesting to say. Funemployment is keeping me busy as I fill my days with the beach, boring administration stuffs like claiming insurance and doing my tax, having lunches and dinners with friends, being cheerleader for Nathan's netball team on a Wednesday night, inviting myself over to play with my nephews, talking to my sister on the phone (the novelty of being able to call whenever we want hasn't worn off yet), and job hunting.

Do you know what I need to do? Get a job or get drunk. Leave it with me, I'll work on it.

In the meantime, let's pretend this is a weight loss blog for one minute so I can gloat about how I have lost 5kg since I got back - toot toot! A big part of it is mum waking my up early each morning for what I have dubbed "Fat Farm" (aka beach walks and swims), part of it is the heat allowing me to sweat it out, and the biggest part of it is the reduction of alcohol consumed.

So I guess that answers my earlier rhetorical question about what I need to do - get a job so that I can cryptically talk about my colleagues behind their backs in this open forum!

G'day!

Rest assured that I wasn't abducted by the fat man in red, but have been busy Christmasing and New Yearsing and familying and so haven't had time to blog.

But I shall get back on soon and tell you all about:

• How my mother has reset my body clock to wake up at 6:30am every day for Fat Farm
• The fact that I have a tan!
• The way my two year old niece, Darcy, struts around like she owns the joint
• How I was "that" drunken Aunty on Christmas day
• My 4 year old nephew, Joe, who kicks my arse at Mario Kart
• My desire to become a member of every surf club, bowls club and RSL on the Gold Coast
• Oh, and that two week Wild European Vacation I've already forgotten about

Kaybye!

And now, the end is near

I can't believe that my time in London comes to an end today. Even as I'm writing this I am tearing up.

The past year has been the best year of my life. I have had some fantastic adventures, seen some great places, and made and strengthened some wonderful friendships.

Last night I had a farewell dinner in Covent Garden and was truly touched by the turnout, that so many people would come along to see me off.

Whilst saying goodbye to Matt, Mark, Emma and Laura wasn't too bad, knowing that I would see them again soon, saying goodbye to others was a little heartbreaking.

Bondy and Alli were the first friends that *I* made in London, and through them I became good friends with Kasia, Matt, Beavis, Matt (yeah, there were a lot of Matt's there last night), Sarah and Adam. I have had some hilariously fun times with these guys, from long orphan Christmas lunches to weekends away at the most unlikely of places. My time in London wouldn't have been the same without these guys.

The other people I shall dearly miss are my friends from The Government Agency, Georgina, Colm and Keef. After seeing you every day it was extremely difficult to say goodbye, and there was a stiffled sob at Waterloo train station last night. Colm, I know you are reading this, so please pass it on to Georgina as well. I shall miss you two dearly and promise to stay in touch. And my parents' beach house is available any time you decide to come to Australia! (That's okay isn't it mum?)

Now Amber, either you are going to have to move back to Australia or I am going to have to move back to London, okay? Amber was the one that convinced me to move overseas and I would not have had the brilliant time here without her. Amber is one of the most intelligent and funniest people I know, and quite often I am her little prophet, quoting her words of wisdom to others (Olly looks like he smells like dairy, jewellry is for Greeks and mistresses). I warn you Amby, that our goodbyes in Brisbane aren't going to be a dry affair.

And Angela, my little Model Mondays and Wild European Vacation partner in crime, what am I going to do without you? Part of me wants to stay here just so that I can share all of your London adventures with you. I hope your time in London is as happy as mine. Make the most of the opportunities you have here and just live it up.

After nearly two years in London I am going home with £500 in my pocket. I know, it's not much is it. But I have had so many holidays and nights out and trips to the theatre and a Chelsea football game and a glorious Marc Jacobs handbag and hundreds upon hundreds of photos of all the fun and mementos of my time here and a blog detailing my time here and a suitcase of cute dresses and some lifelong friends. So I would say that I have done pretty well.

Adieu London, see you soon.

PS. This blog is not going to end just because I am going home, not now that I have four readers (hi!)

Oh mum!

While I don’t consider myself a “grown up”, I like to think that I am a fairly mature and capable girl.

I mean, I travelled to Amsterdam by myself when I was 18, I arranged a mortgage and bought my apartment by myself with I was 23, and then moved my life to the other side of the world by myself when I was 25.

However, when I was talking to mum last night about how I was catching the train up to York this weekend she told me to take care and not talk to any strangers. Unless they were good looking men!

“Don't you know they'll never be here but I'll always be your little girl”
Scarlet Ribbons, Roisin Murphy

Update: my to do list

Okay, time for an update on my to do list.

Nathan, you will be happy to note that I can now cross off…

Hoponhopoff bus tour and River Thames cruise.
I did this with Angela, Kelly and Steve, and we learnt a lot of terrible jokes that day. I was slightly disappointed with the guide’s commentary, so interjected with my own impromptu London trivia as required.

Another visit to Great Aunt Christiana.
This is booked in for later this month. After the extremely expensive car hire fiasco last time, I have decided to catch the train. I hope she offers me a shot of whiskey before bed again. JUST JOKING MUM! Well, Aunty Ana did offer it last time, but I didn’t accept it. I was too drunk from dinner. JUST JOKING MUM!

Chelsea football match.
Beavis and I are going to the Chelsea vs Atletico Madrid Champions League game on 21 October, and we are going in style! We’ve got a package deal with dinner and refreshments, a programme, and a seat in the “friendly” section.

However, the people at work have added a whole raft of things to the list:
Red Brick Aussie pub
Liberty
Selfridges
Richmond Park
Regents Park
Primrose Hill
Hampstead Heath

At this rate I may have to reschedule my flights to next February. JUST JOKING MUM!

So much to say

Apologies for the really slack blogging lately. People actually stop by here expecting to read some dribble from me, but it’s dried up a little lately. I’ve got lots to tell, but I’ve been so busy I don’t have the time to write it up yet.

I have to tell you about my hilarious trip to Oktoberfest, with all the rides and steins of wine and celebrity look alike spotting and Disney-inspiring castles and lifetime worth of pork.

I have to tell you about my discovery of £2.75 passionfruit mojitos at the Elk Bar.

I have to tell you about my extremely early Saturday morning last weekend to watch the AFL grand final amidst a bunch of hooligan Australians.

I have to tell you (especially you mum, you would be so proud) about the fact that I have made friends with a heterosexual male.

I have to tell you about the time that I gatecrashed some Queensland University of Technology alumni drinks with a doctor and had to gloss over my academic past.

I have to tell you about the weekend that I nearly died from tiredness, because I had four events to attend in one day, and was so exhausted my teeth ached.

I have to tell you about the fleeting visit from Sue, and how my darling father told her to bring back whatever crap I gave her and that he would pay for the excess. (Don’t worry dad, I kept to the weight limit!)

I have to tell you about the quaint English wedding I attended, complete with ye olde chapel and choreographed dance routine and fireworks.

However, I have dinner with the hetero tonight, PowerPlate Wednesday night, dinner with Stacey or Angela Thursday night, work drinks on Friday night, Bondy and Beavis’s birthday party on Saturday night, Sarah’s arrival and NRL grand final and Brick Lane lunch on Sunday, Sarah staying over next Monday (Model Monday) and Tuesday, PowerPlate Wednesday, dinner with Kasia on Thursday night, and somethingorother on Friday night.

But in between all that I will try and find sometime to upload a photo montage of the fun that was Oktoberfest…

PS. Can you really die from tiredness? Or is this another theory that I have created, like when I said if you look a fox in the eye it will try to eat your face?

Music festivals are what you make them

Get Loaded was the worst music festival I have ever been to.

The sound was awful, the only way to know who was playing when was to buy the schedule for £5, the timetable didn't allow enough time for the acts (Peaches was on for 30 minutes), the line at the toilets resembled a scene from Mad Max, and the drink queues didn't abate at all throughout the day. The only thing you could do was to get drunk, sit in the dirt outside a tent, hope to hear a snippet of music, and wait for it all to be over.

In saying that, Amber and Angela and I still had a fun time.

While Angela danced Amber and I sat back and laughed at all the festival characters - the 45 year old men high on drugs, the mutton dressed as lamb in a dirty white sundress and broken arm who fell over beside us, the tramp who pushed in line at the bar claiming sorry sorry sorry sorry and who can expect a whole lotta bad karma coming her way soon, the Scotsman who declined my offer of a bite of my cheese and tomato roll but then tried to steal a kiss anyway, the carnies who spun our carriage on the Waltzer ride (perhaps because they heard us refer to them as carnies), and the girl who picked up the ugg boot that Amber found in the portaloo and threw it into the crowd upon my joking request. There was also some celebrity-lookalike spotting - Thom Yorke, Robert Pattinson, Fatty Vautin, and Benicio del Toro.

Our day ended at Revolution, with enough vodka shots and cocktails to make my mother cringe. Sorry mum.

Drama!

Oh my gosh, major drama at work yesterday... there was a shooting right outside of our office!

As our building has floor to ceiling glass walls, we noticed all of the police cars outside and the streets cordoned off. Then an announcement came over the PA telling us that there was an issue out on the street and we were not allowed to leave the building. Of course, then everyone rushed to see what was happening, and another announcement told us to step away from the windows.

Adding to the drama, at the same time there was a massive (unrelated) protest in our reception, with drums and placards.

05.08.09: Policeman injured in Waterloo shooting
Justin Davenport, Crime Correspondent

Armed police were today hunting a lone gunman after a dramatic shooting outside a central London Tube station.

The man turned on police in front of hundreds of terrified commuters as he cycled past Southwark Tube Station.

One policeman is believed to have been injured as he dived for cover when the man refused to stop and pulled out a handgun.

It is believed he was targeted after police identified him as a wanted man.

Armed police units flooded the area and a helicopter was called in but the gunman abandoned his bike and fled down The Cut - a street filled with busy restaurants.

An onlooker said: “At least one shot was fired at the police, they were just trying to stop him in the street. As he spun round on his bike he produced a gun and opened fire and everyone dived for cover.”

The gunman was seen running towards and estate behind the Young Vic theatre heading in the direction of the South Bank.

Scotland Yard said police were called to reports of shots being fired at The Cut at 3.02pm.

A spokesman said it was not clear how the officer had been injured but it is believed that he suffered a gunshot wound.

The Cut is a busy shopping street which runs between Waterloo railway station and Southwark Tube station, a short distance from the River Thames.

But no need to stress mum, I'm safe!

Update 2

While I have actually been getting out and doing stuff, there has been a lapse in blogging again. So I shall summarise the goings on of my life in bullet points, because I like bullet points and this is my blog and I can use them.

• I ventured back to the Walkabout at Temple to watch the first State of Origin game the other week, after managing to avoid any updates on the score throughout the day by getting a colleague to screen all of my text messages. Honestly though, you need to be drunk to be able to handle that place and as it was a Wednesday night I was not in a position to have a great time. Amber and Nicole did though!
  
  
• Jodie has returned from Australia but is yet to find employment, which leaves her free to hunt around on the internet for cheap theatre tickets – yay! We went to La Clique the other week and it was fantastic! The venue was really cosy and set up sort of like a circus, with strings of lights, and the stage in the middle. And the acts were great – a man who squeezed his body through a tennis racquet and made me laugh so hard I cried, a couple that did amazing spinning tricks on roller skates, a massive black man dressed in drag singing, a little guy dressed as Freddie Mercury that did juggling tricks and jokes, and crazy acts.
  
  
• This week we got £10 dress circle tickets to La Cage Aux Folles (aka the Birdcage) which was pretty good. The highlight were the five extremely fit, male chorus dancers, who were extremely entertaining from the stalls, but I don’t think I would have liked it as much if I was in the front row tables!
  
  
• Last weekend we did a day trip to Brighton which was really fun. The weather was unexpectedly gorgeous, and we all ended up getting a little sunburnt. We went down to the water, played games on the pier, went on our favourite ride – the Crazy Mouse, had fish for lunch (actually I had salad), did some shopping in the Lanes, and then whiled away the afternoon at the beachfront bar, le sigh…
  
  
• PowerPlate is either going to be my body-firming saviour, or the death of me. I’ve started doing PowerPlate classes at the gym, as I got a few sessions free with my membership. The idea is that you do exercises on a platform that vibrates, so a 30 minute session is equal to a 90 minute session on standard equipment. And at the end of it you feel like you’ve done a 90 minute session. The good thing is that the last couple of minutes you lie on the ground with your legs on the machine and get a muscle-stretching and cellulite-busting massage.
  
  
• I have been invited to the wedding of a colleague friend of mine in September, which is very exciting. When I asked what the dress code she was rather vague, though stipulated that most women would be wearing hats or headpieces. Crap. So the search starts now in the hope that I will find something appropriate in the next two and a half months.
  
  
• Just to fuel the fire that Jackie started at Christmas lunch, I bought a pair of Birkenstocks on the weekend. I had quite the internal fight prior to the purchase – extreme comfort and purple patent leather vs blatantly looking like a lesbian. Comfort won out. Though I won’t be wearing them with my new green skirt from Joy, as I saw an actual real life lesbian wearing the same skirt a few months ago.

PS. Mum, I am not a lesbian.

Return of the prodigal daughter

I have decided to move home. I booked my ticket (on mum's credit card, thanks mum!) a month ago, but I think I decided probably about two months ago.

There are a lot of things that I miss about Australia, namely my family and my friends.

However, I predict that I am going to be bored shirtless within a month of returning, so you people had better be ready to entertain me.

There is also the issue of the current job market (or lack thereof) in Australia, so I may be forced back to London or perhaps to Japan where I can teach English and indulge my love of tacky stuff.

Moving back will be difficult though. Before I left Australia I had a great job, a lovely apartment, and a varied portfolio of other investments. I will be coming back to no job, an apartment ravaged by floods, and a varied portfolio of other investments minus a chunk of shares.

Yup, I'll be 27, living with my parents and probably working in a bakery.

PS. Sue, can I please get some shifts at the Jolly Swagman around January? Just ask dad for my reference. On second though, ask mum...


"You let me run, You let me hide, I'm coming home"
My Way Home, Alex Lloyd

Just to brag

After a week of regular blogging, I just wanted to let you (mum and Scott and Nathan and Natalii, my devout readers) know that I won't be writing any new entries next week.

Because I am going sailing in Croatia!

No work, no emails, no phone calls, no gym, no London pollution. Instead, my days will be filled with sun, swims, sleeps, sailing and a new adventure in each town we visit. Devine!

Later skaters...

D-amanda

I have to admit that I am starting to miss my life back home.

I want to go to family dinners every second Monday night. They used to be the highlight of my week.

I want to take more weekend trips up to Townsville to visit Jackie, Mark, James, Ben and Darcy. And I want to get James drunk.

I want to take Isaac and Joe out once a month for an adventurous outing, to somewhere like the Science Museum, you know, things that I really want to do.

I want to get Broncos season tickets for me and dad.

I want to have a girly day with mum, where we get our pedicures and I go shopping with her and try not to complain.

I want regular Wednesday night dates with Jaala.

I want to have a blow up mattress at Nathan’s new apartment so that I can stay there whenever I feel like it.

I want to go to mini golf at Victoria Park with Scoot Scoot, and make stupid jokes that only he and I laugh at. Or say the same joke at the same time that only he and I laugh at.

I want to play Game of Life with Matt and Lindy and whinge if I don’t get to be the Rockstar.

I want to go back to my regular pilates class, where all the middle aged people kicked my butt.

I want to lose the extra five kilos that I only seem to have in London. I lost a lot of it in the four weeks when I was home at Christmas – I’m naturally skinnier in Australia.

I want to ride my awesome bike, Tequila Sunrise.

I want to have the natural tanned glowing skin that I have in my drivers licence photo.

I want to wear high heels again.

I want to be able to drive a car, and listen to the radio, especially Triple J and Triple M.

I want a permanent job, where I get paid for sick days, public holidays, and annual leave.

I want to go grocery shopping wherever I want, rather than the supermarket that is closest because I have to walk home with my groceries.

I want to see more of Australia.

I want to be there for birthdays, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, school fetes, and new babies.

I want to come home at Christmas…


“I want today, I want tomorrow, I want to wear 'em, Like braids in my hair and I don't want to share 'em. Don’t care how, I want it now”
I Want it Now, Veruca Salt

What's in a name?

Now I would just like to point out that I never introduce myself or refer to myself as Mandy. In my head I am Amanda.

I love my name, I really do. Thanks mum and dad, you did a great job! I mean, I was two weeks old before you finally picked a name for me, but when you did you picked a great one. I like that I have three letter As in my name, because A is my favourite letter. I like that my initials rhyme – Ay Jay Bay. I like that it’s not an uncommon name, but at the same time there aren’t that many Amandas around. I really really like my name!

However, all of my close friends call me Mandy, which I take as a sign of affection.


“Well you came and you gave without taking, but I sent you away, oh Mandy, well you kissed me and stopped me from shaking, and I need you today, oh Mandy”
Mandy, Barry Manilow