Ch-ch-ch-changes

I need to warn family and friends before I come home for Christmas – I have changed. Yes, I am not the same girl that left Brisbane back in April.

I have really long hair. Mum, you won’t believe it, but I wear my hair loose now – you would love it. My hair is the longest it has ever been, and I really need a haircut but am hanging out until I get home. I’m not a huge fan of "pretty" long hair on me, but it keeps my head warm!

I catch public transport now. Back in Brisbane, I drove my lazy-ass everywhere. I mean, I could have walked to work, but instead drove the five minutes there every day. In London, I spend up to an hour walking and catching the train to work.

I am fat. Despite prior warnings of the Heathrow Injection, and a personal commitment to not letting it happen to me, I got fat. Dad confirmed this with his taunts when he and mum came to visit. I’m just giving my friends a heads up, so it’s not such a shock when I get there.

I’m joining the gym. Refer to the above paragraph about me being a Fatty McLardbum. I’m going to the gym near work tonight and I am joining. Even though I’ve been saying this for five months now, this time I really mean it.

I am career focused. Back in Brisbane, I cruised through my job and made good money. My first job in London paid alright – £175 a day as an Events Manager. And it was boring. Then an Events & Marketing Manager role came up at The Government Agency which I accepted, even though it was only £160 a day, as I knew it would be a good move for my career. And it turns out it was! There is no way I would have gotten the job as Internal & Stakeholder Communications Manager (and the delightful pay rise) if I hadn’t already had my foot in the door.

I wear flat shoes all the time. I used to love wearing my cute little heels to work or going out. I think I’ve worn heels twice since I’ve been in London . High heels just aren’t appropriate given the cobblestone streets and the amount of walking I do each day.

I tell my mother and father so much more. With semi-regular blog entries and even more regular emails, my parents know so much more about what I get up to. I don't think this is a good thing. Hi mum, love you!

Ups and downs

I find life in London is a series of ups and downs.

This morning I got up early because I was organising a staff presentation today and had to prepare a few things.

Side note – Dad, I had not left this until the last minute, and was actually at work until nearly 7pm last Friday. It’s just that I broke two printers on Friday afternoon, so had to wait for someone to fix them.

Anyway, I arrived at the tube station ready for my quick 11-minute train ride to work (now that I am living at Canada Water) only to discover that the Jubliee line is down. After waiting for 20 minutes with ne’er a hint of a train, I made my way back to the street and jumped on a bus to Waterloo. The 10 minute journey took more than 45 minutes. In frustration, I got off the bus and started walking, as I realised it was going to get me to work quicker. Stomping down the street, late for work, in the cold, I was not in a good mood.

Then, just as I neared work, a man with a huge moustache pulled up beside me on his motorbike, loudly pumping Lionel Ritchie’s “All night long” on his radio.

Oh London, even when things are crappy, you manage to produce something to make me laugh!

Approval process

Dad, is it okay if I buy a laptop? I really really want, nay, NEED one.

I used Amby’s ‘putie all the time when we lived together, and since moving out I realise how much I rely on having interweb access.

Reasons why I need a laptop:

• I can’t email as often because I am so busy at work
• I can’t blog as often
• I can’t Skype
• I can’t access Facebook (restricted at work)
• I can’t access the Transport for London website to see if there are delays or track closures
• I can’t do my regular weather stalk each morning so I know if I need an umbrella or my heavy coat
• I can’t use Google Maps to find out where I am going
• I can’t charge my iPod
• I can't download episodes of the US series of The Office
  

So is it okay if I get a really cute, slim, lightweight, good brand with a warranty, fully loaded laptop for only £300?

Please…

I folded

Okay, so I lied when I said I couldn’t write a blog entry.

Last night I was lucky enough to snag a seat on a packed train, and nearly nodded off on my journey home. Until I espied a guy sitting in a four-seater with a look of sheer disbelief on his face. Opposite him was a fairly good looking man in his mid 30s, with the fashionable three day growth and shaggy hair, teaching himself how to do origami. He had a step-by-step book open on his lap and was carefully folding a little piece of paper to look like a peacock. Everyone in his vicinity was watching with great interest to see how it was going to turn out.

Oh London, how you entertain me!

Just another manic Monday

It’s been a while since I’ve shared tube stories, but there were some crazies on the train this morning!

There was the guy standing on West Brompton platform practising his balancing skills by artfully and subtly standing on one leg for about a minute, then swapping. This went on for nearly five minutes.

There were the hundreds of people crammed into the Edgware Road train, when the Upminster train two minutes behind it was half empty.

There was the Rolf Harris lookalike sitting opposite me on the District line.

And then there was the girl on the Jubilee line who decided to clean the sleep out of her eyes and wipe it on the magazine she was reading. Eww.

That's romance

This blog entry is dedicated to Nathan, my darling hopeless romantic....

Whenever he comes across something sweet he declares "that's romance".

Here is a list of things that I think are romance:

The old fashioned train schedule signs at Earl's Court tube station
Pencils rather than pens
The pond and accompanying bridge at Brompton Park Crescent, which I have dubbed "bridge over troubled water"
Hand written notes
Plastic cup to go with my bottle of San Pellegrino on the Eurostar
A fresh London Paper - not picked up off the floor of a train carriage
The single rose on each table at Me Me's vietnamese restaurant
Gotye's song "Night Drive"

Good and bad

Things I like:
Fireworks!
Pimms o'clock
First dates
Ribena poppers
Handbags
Marks & Spencer
Puns
Dresses
San Pellegrino
Eyelash curlers
Baths
Lists
Peppermint tea before bed

Things I don’t like:
Revolving doors
Stupid people
Dogs on trains
Christmas carols
Inconsistant document formatting
Olympia trains at Earls Court
Walking down stairs
People who complain about speed cameras
Waiting
Other people's feet
Midweek hangovers
Losing trivia
Tepid drinks

An open letter

Dear Mum, Jackie and Natalii (the only people who read this thing),

Apologies for the lack of posts lately. All I seem to write about is the tube and trivia.

I promise to go adventuring and/or drinking this weekend so that I have something interesting to write about next week.

Love ya hard,
xAm

Tube stories

The past couple of weeks have been quiet, hence the lack of blog material. Though in the past fortnight I have collected enough silly tube stories for a post.

Most people, myself included, would find it very hard to believe that I catch public transport. Once dubbed Evie, the environmental vandal, I have since changed my ways. A change that was forced upon me, but that I have rather quickly adapted to.

Over the past two weeks, these funny things have happened while I was on the tube…

On a rather packed Picadilly line train to Covent Garden one Saturday night I saw a young woman dressed ready for a night on the town. Except she was carrying a car spoiler.

On a District line train home one afternoon I offered my seat up to a (rather hot) young man on crutches, only to have him declare that he was fine and refuse my hospitality. “You are on crutches!” I argued. Me thinks the crutches were a sneaky ploy to summon sympathy and attract young women. Can’t believe I fell for that old trick.

On a District line train to visit the Barley Mow gang in Shoreditch one night a rather large, hairy, tattooed and inebriated young man commented “nice hair!” to Amber as we alighted the train. See, I told you it was a good haircut woman!

On a District line train home from Putney Bridge last Saturday night, I just made it onto a carriage as the train was about to pull away. Yay, I thought. Until the train was held between stations and I realised that there was a homeless man with two dirty dogs. BoJo (Boris Johnson, Mayor of London) has recently banned alcohol on public transport; maybe he needs to think about banning stinkin mutts as well.

On the District line train pretty much every morning there is a different couple sucking face in my carriage. The jolting train ride is enough to unsettle one’s stomach, so your smooching noises really make me feel nauseas. And it’s not just because I am single that this offends me, I don’t think any of the middle-age suits are too impressed by your display.

At Westminster Station one Monday morning I found the “Tube Character of the Week”. A 70 year old man that looked like Albert Einstein dressed in a three-piece pinstripe suit, carrying a brief case and umbrella, and wearing a bowler hat. Brilliant!

On a Circle line train one afternoon a man dressed as a pirate was going around collecting money to feed the homeless. I gave him £2 and said “that’s just for your hat, love it!”

Welcome to Idiotsville!

Population: me.

Silly little me got on the wrong train when I left work today, didn't I?

I don't know left from right, and it would seem that I don't know east from west either. It was only at the second stop that I realised, so I quickly alighted, changed platforms and squeezed myself on to a west bound Jubilee train. Only for it to be removed from service at the next stop because the Jubilee line was now closed. So I changed to the Northern line, amidst a crush of people, past a bagpipe player, and alongside a woman hell bent on elbowing me out of the way. Another packed train and another change over, and finally I was heading home on the District line. And then the hens party got on, with their too-short dresses and their cork wedge heels and their shrieks.

I'm not as smart as I look. Nowhere near.

I take it all back

The tube sucks.

After getting on a super packed train this morning the stupid thing broke down. In between stations. In a tunnel. On a 25 degree morning. For 20 minutes. On my way to work. In a suit. It was then that I realised, hey, maybe I am claustrophobic.

And a lesson for any men reading this. Even though today was hot and you have to suffer through public transport, under no circumstances are you to wear a short sleeved business shirt under your pinstripe suit. Not ever. Okay?

Tube characters

There are some funny people on the tube, such as....

The four year old girl who shmushed her banana and then peeled it and licked it like an ice-cream.

The young man who hadn't removed all of his face paint and was singing to himself.

The fabulously dressed young woman who thought it was okay to wear tan coloured stockings with strappy sandals.

The guy dressed in acid wash jeans. With matching jacket.

The attractive young man with a bottle of vodka and two bottles of coke, enjoying a few drinks on the way into the city.

The 65 year old woman in leather pants.

Amber's Grumpy Hot Tube Boy who begrudgingly gives up the fight for an empty seat - "Just take it!"

The many midgets in London. Sorry, I mean 'little people'.

The week in review

We’ve been without internet for a week, so it is going to have to be a brief roundup of recent adventures...

Wednesday
I helped Mandy and Benny move into their new apartment, so I am now officially living in West Brompton. Happiness (for a Taurus) is a bed and a cupboard in which to hang my minimalist wardrobe.

Thursday
I had an interview with another recruitment agency, and they were really positive about finding me some work that would make me more than £400 a week (damn you Michael Page!). Thursday afternoon Amber and I met up with Sarrah in Chancery Lane for some drinks with her work colleagues. After several glasses of cheap sav blanc we went to the trendiest thai restaurant in Soho called Busaba Eathai. I can’t believe I ate the whole pad thai! Anyone who knows me knows that I never finish everything on my plate – that’s how good the food was.

Friday
Amber wrote to the Australian Embassy and got us tickets to the “Service of Commemoration and Thanksgiving to mark ANZAC Day” at Westminster Abbey. I’ve been there before as a tourist, but to actually attend a service was amazing. The place was full of Australians and New Zealanders (and Peter Garrett), the choir sang beautifully, the organ music was haunting, and the service extremely moving. And clearly I wasn’t the only one affected, as Juliet noted on the way out “don’t you sometimes wish you were a nun?” Friday night we went to Mary Janes at Tower Hill for Amber’s work colleague’s 30th birthday drinks. I was very responsible, and caught the tube home with Juliet at 11pm. Amber managed to finish our bottle of champagne before catching the last tube home, so snaps for her too.

Saturday
The weather on Saturday morning was GLORIOUS - sunny and 22 degrees! I decided to do a fry up for brunch, so Amber donned her new playsuit, I put on my funemployment dress, and we walked to the Sainsburys at Fulham Broadway – along with the throngs of soccer fans going to Chelsea stadium for the game. Saturday afternoon we met up with Dom, Alex, Cat and Nicki, and went to an ANZAC Day BBQ at Maida Vale. The apartment had a huge back yard, with grass and a dog! There was two-up, snags, chocolate crackles, and Josh Pyke playing on the iPod. We met two girls from Sydney – Cate and Melissa – who were supa-fun. So much so, that I abandoned the BBQ and went out dancing in Putney Bridge with them! Don’t worry mum, I was very well behaved.... ;)

Sunday
Sunday was dad's birthday Jackie, did you know that?! And I have to admit, when I called dad in the morning it was one of the first times I've felt really homesick. Sunday was also grey and rainy, so we stayed in and ordered pizza and watched the Last of the Mohicans. Sunday night Amber and I took Charlotte to the Sugar Hut for a belated birthday dinner. The Sugar Hut is this hole-in-the-wall thai restaurant in Fulham, where you have to ring a doorbell to get in. Inside, it is rather cosy with big lounges, dim lighting, candles everywhere, and funky thai statues around the place. The Sugar Hut now ties with Busaba Eathai for the best thai I’ve had! Amber told me that on Friday and Saturday nights the place turns in to a supa-fun club at 9pm, when they push all the tables to the side and bring out a singer called Christina and a few bongo players. Expect a blog entry about that in a couple of weeks once I’ve been back!

Not as brief as I promised actually, was it!

Don't leave home without it

Okay, three days in and I've realised that there are some things that you just don't leave home without...

Oyster card. A weekly card that costs about £24 and gives me unlimited use of the tube and buses. This is ESSENTIAL. I miss not having the convenience of a car, but the tube system is pretty good, and where I am living is pretty central.

Waterless hand cleanser. Amber bought me a little bottle of this and recommended that I use it after touching any of the handles on the aforementioned tube. *shudder*

Gloves. My poor circulation means that I haven't really taken my gorgeous purple leather gloves off since I arrived.

iPod. You do a lot of incidental walking in London - walking to the tube, from the tube to where you are going, up to the local Marks & Spencer, down the road to the local pub. The iPod keeps me entertained during these times. It is also a mood enhancer. I had a little moment on Friday where I caught the tube to Piccadilly Circus to get my HSBC card only to realise I forgot all the paperwork. So I put on some happy music and trundled back home. It's also like a personal soundtrack to your life, so I've been listening to a lot of Brit rock to get me in the mood.

Lip balm & hand cream. The cold dries your skin out like nothing else. Gross.

Umbrella. London weather is bi-polar. Sunny one minute, raining 10 minutes later, sunny again in half an hour, no it's raining again now. JUST MAKE YOUR MIND UP, AUGH!

I've arrived!

After way too many hours on a BA airplane eating vegetarian low-fat food (don't ask), I finally arrived in London on Thursday morning.

Darling Amber met me at Heathrow and took me back to her apartment in West Brompton for a crash course in London 101. I now have an oyster card for the tube, a poster-sized tube map, and an A-Z Guide. What else do I need?

Amber had to go to work in the afternoon while I unsuccessfully tried to get some sleep. I decided to push through the jet lag and caught the tube all by myself to meet Amber at St James's Park for some drinks with her work colleagues. Everyone was extremely impressed with my staying power and my relatively perky appearance (thank god for Laura Mercier's secret concealer is all I can say). And Juliet was impressed with my tan - HA HA HA!

The night ended up at Reflex, an 80s disco with a light-up dancefloor. I have to admit, that was what kept me going when I started to fade around 8:30pm. Fortunately I pushed through so I could enjoy £30 bottles of Moet, £3 pairs of aviator sunglasses, Amber wearing a plastic Madonna cone bra, Rohan having a serious dance off with some random, a man in a suit strip down to his birthday suit on the dancefloor, and my new mate Dave the DJ who I tried to convince that I was an extra on The Bill.

Good times people, good times...