.. all the birds fly south
In a January heat wave and a pulsing crowd
Ahh man, I have this huge gap where December is supposed to be!
I totally forgot to write anything. December tried to dissemble the
length of my working day.
December was a good month, too. I turned 24 and everything.
Well, anyways, I have a one way ticket out of here again.
January 26th is the official migration date.
My Christmas job at Toys R Us finished :( Gutted.
I've realised I have this problem where I buy multiple items
of the same thing. Recently I've been buying lots of hats,
slippers and pyjamas (this is a winter thing), but I also own
way way way too many photo frames, headbands, cameras,
and LUGGAGE.
Literally, the last 6 times I've been away, I've bought a new
bag, and I've just bought yet another one in the sales.
I decided to downsize, and bought a 50 litre backpack. This
means I can't take all my pyjamas, headbands and cameras.
I'm sure I had loads to write about, but it's late and I can't
remember anymore.
Friday, 1 January 2010
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Hiii
Ummmmmm I'm only writing this because I MISS having
actual things to write about and I'm hoping some source of
inspiration will come to me as I type.
Oh man, this is gonna be difficult.
My parents have deserted me, and left me alone with a
full time job, a house and a dog. They are in ROME,
which I am highly jealous of, not least because I was
originally invited along, before they remembered they
needed a dog sitter.
It's no so bad, really, seeing as Ella and I pretty much
ignore each other. But this morning I had to get up at
6am because I have to feed her at least an hour before
I walk her (have you ever heard such rubbish? I think
my parents have this mixed up with the eating before
swimming rule) and it takes me an hour to get to work
for 9am.
And then I can't walk her before 5pm (for the same
reason) so it's DARK and I refuse to walk the streets
with her because she's your regular scavenger dog,
and it's a pain in the ass dragging her away from every
morsel of food dropped on the pavements.
So I have to go ON THE FIELD which is pitch dark
and scary! I swear I'm going to die this week, if not by
an axe murderer, then by starvation.
Hurry home parents :(
I don't think I actually have anything else to write, other
than as soon as my dole money comes through I am
buying another one way ticket out of here.
actual things to write about and I'm hoping some source of
inspiration will come to me as I type.
Oh man, this is gonna be difficult.
My parents have deserted me, and left me alone with a
full time job, a house and a dog. They are in ROME,
which I am highly jealous of, not least because I was
originally invited along, before they remembered they
needed a dog sitter.
It's no so bad, really, seeing as Ella and I pretty much
ignore each other. But this morning I had to get up at
6am because I have to feed her at least an hour before
I walk her (have you ever heard such rubbish? I think
my parents have this mixed up with the eating before
swimming rule) and it takes me an hour to get to work
for 9am.
And then I can't walk her before 5pm (for the same
reason) so it's DARK and I refuse to walk the streets
with her because she's your regular scavenger dog,
and it's a pain in the ass dragging her away from every
morsel of food dropped on the pavements.
So I have to go ON THE FIELD which is pitch dark
and scary! I swear I'm going to die this week, if not by
an axe murderer, then by starvation.
Hurry home parents :(
I don't think I actually have anything else to write, other
than as soon as my dole money comes through I am
buying another one way ticket out of here.
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Hadrian's Wall
Soooo I completed all 84 miles of Hadrian's Wall!
I actually feel quite impressed with
myself, mainly because it got
REALLY tough at one point and it
would have been easy to quit.
But I pushed myself through it
and did it!
It sounds a bit lame, I know, cos
it was only like 15 miles a day, but
it wasn't the fact I'm totally unfit
(although that definitely
contributed), it was the evil
weather and my stupid blisters.
On day 3 and 4 we were way up on the hills, literally walking
directly into the clouds. So it meant we got soaking wet and were
walking against really strong winds. My feet were drenched, which
meant my plasters wouldn't stay on my blisters. I had to limp along
like a little old lady with my head down. I was the most miserable
person in the history of the world.
But, I swear to god some guardian angel kept planting puppies along
the route to keep me going.
My favourite night was when we stayed at a farm bunkhouse. There
was a little den with a roaring fire, and other people to talk to! A couple of
lads who were doing the entire 84 miles in 3 days, and another Australian
guy who was also pushing himself pretty damned hard. It was good to know
there were other people with blisters and wet feet!
Plus, the farmer and his wife were the most eccentric people I ever met.
Crazy posh accents and you should see their house!
Plus there was a labrador puppy which kept me amused for about 15
minutes, before he stole my shoes and sliced my arms up.
Annnnnywayy, with this week done and dusted I literally have to start
thinking, now what?
Do I stay or do I go?
I actually feel quite impressed with
myself, mainly because it got
REALLY tough at one point and it
would have been easy to quit.
But I pushed myself through it
and did it!
It sounds a bit lame, I know, cos
it was only like 15 miles a day, but
it wasn't the fact I'm totally unfit
(although that definitely
contributed), it was the evil
weather and my stupid blisters.
On day 3 and 4 we were way up on the hills, literally walking
directly into the clouds. So it meant we got soaking wet and were
walking against really strong winds. My feet were drenched, which
meant my plasters wouldn't stay on my blisters. I had to limp along
like a little old lady with my head down. I was the most miserable
person in the history of the world.
But, I swear to god some guardian angel kept planting puppies along
the route to keep me going.
My favourite night was when we stayed at a farm bunkhouse. There
was a little den with a roaring fire, and other people to talk to! A couple of
lads who were doing the entire 84 miles in 3 days, and another Australian
guy who was also pushing himself pretty damned hard. It was good to know
there were other people with blisters and wet feet!
Plus, the farmer and his wife were the most eccentric people I ever met.
Crazy posh accents and you should see their house!
Plus there was a labrador puppy which kept me amused for about 15
minutes, before he stole my shoes and sliced my arms up.
Annnnnywayy, with this week done and dusted I literally have to start
thinking, now what?
Do I stay or do I go?
Friday, 25 September 2009
Back from Greece
I got back from Rhodes yesterday! I seriously needed
a holiday. This sounds ridiculous, but honestly, you
don't know the half of it!
A week of sunshine was nice. I did drink too much
though, but it was still good to get away again.
We went to a silent disco which was amazing!
Everyone wears headphones and there were 2
DJ's so we could swap channels. It's the funniest
thing ever, taking your headphones off and listening
to everyone singing and dancing along to different
things.
I haven't even unpacked yet and already I have to
pack a different bag and a different set of clothes
for Hadrian's Wall tomorrow morning. I'm really
looking forward to getting away with my dad for
a week and not having to worry about anything.
Except blisters, I guess.
I have about a million things bothering me right now,
and I think walking from one side of the country to the
other might possibly be the perfect cure!
I suppose writing about them could help, but getting my
thoughts into any kind of order or making them
understandable is too much effort right now. Maybe later.
What I will say, though, is that if you worked your ass off
through college and university, if you saved every single
penny you ever earnt since you were 10 years old, with the
single ambition of being able to live a portion of your life the
way you always dreamed, and you go ahead and do everything
you ever said you'd do, or hoped you'd do, or wished you'd do,
then that is an acheivement and no one can say otherwise.
And whatever that dream is, whether it be to have a family,
or become a doctor or lawer, or a hairdresser or a writer or
a mechanic, or to travel, or even just to be happy with who
you are and what you do, then it still counts.
What isn't an acheivement, is settling for what you believe
you've been dealt by some fate, or god, or social unfairness.
If you don't take control, what is the point?
a holiday. This sounds ridiculous, but honestly, you
don't know the half of it!
A week of sunshine was nice. I did drink too much
though, but it was still good to get away again.
We went to a silent disco which was amazing!
Everyone wears headphones and there were 2
DJ's so we could swap channels. It's the funniest
thing ever, taking your headphones off and listening
to everyone singing and dancing along to different
things.
I haven't even unpacked yet and already I have to
pack a different bag and a different set of clothes
for Hadrian's Wall tomorrow morning. I'm really
looking forward to getting away with my dad for
a week and not having to worry about anything.
Except blisters, I guess.
I have about a million things bothering me right now,
and I think walking from one side of the country to the
other might possibly be the perfect cure!
I suppose writing about them could help, but getting my
thoughts into any kind of order or making them
understandable is too much effort right now. Maybe later.
What I will say, though, is that if you worked your ass off
through college and university, if you saved every single
penny you ever earnt since you were 10 years old, with the
single ambition of being able to live a portion of your life the
way you always dreamed, and you go ahead and do everything
you ever said you'd do, or hoped you'd do, or wished you'd do,
then that is an acheivement and no one can say otherwise.
And whatever that dream is, whether it be to have a family,
or become a doctor or lawer, or a hairdresser or a writer or
a mechanic, or to travel, or even just to be happy with who
you are and what you do, then it still counts.
What isn't an acheivement, is settling for what you believe
you've been dealt by some fate, or god, or social unfairness.
If you don't take control, what is the point?
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
What England does to me
When my sister had Max, I told my parents they'd
better buy me a Macbook Pro or a puppy, otherwise
I'd start suffering from jealously and sibling rivalry.
They didn't get me either, so I kicked off.
I didn't, obviously, but recently I started doing some
thinking, about how my life didn't turn out quite as
spectacularly as I'd planned and all.
And how some tiny part of me still believes I might
one day get to grow up on a farm, or learn piano,
or start my own zoo.
So I've selected the three most tragic events of my
23 years, which I think are responsible for my failures.
Truely, this is as bad as my life has thus far got.
My ultimate dream, as it happens, was to own a dog
of my own. As a kid, I really believed that if I was
allowed a dog, my entire life would simply fall into
place. I'd be happy and willing to succeed, because
this simple dream had been granted.
And after much begging and pleading, my wish was
granted! Enter Ella, yellow labrador cross polar bear.
Thus begins life failure part one.
Despite mine and Ella's obvious disdain for each other,
despite the fact that she ripped all my clothes, chewed
on my arms and attacked my face, my parents would not
get rid of her.
Ella is still here, and although she no longer attacks me,
we have NEVER, in her 10 years, got along. For a long
time I went off animals, despite the fact that before this,
I dreamed of being a vet. If we'd never got Ella, that
might have happened.
Life failure part two is a tale of misplaced blame and
mean spirited adults.
When I was 10 I rode my sisters bike down the road. It
was too big for me but I was still going pretty fast. Some
stupid woman a few houses down pulled out of her drive,
at speed, and hit me. My sisters bike and I landed on the
bonnet with a pretty impressive bang.
The stupid woman, evidently full of concern, asked me
where I lived and walked beside me as I slowly, and with
difficulty, pushed the twisted bike home, blood pouring
out of my nose. I mean, she could of helped, right?
My mum cleaned up my blood, thanked the woman for
not killing me, and I was made to feel very bad indeed
for causing inconvenience to the poor witch. She hit ME.
A 10 year old! She didn't even look! Yet this has always,
somehow, been my fault.
The final reason I'm a failure involves the loss of loved
ones.
My ducks; Yellow and Grey. I had Yellow and Grey
from day one. I built an incubator out of a £5 propegater
from B&Q. I attached a light bulb and spent 30 long days
keeping the temperature and humidity perfect. And I
mean PERFECT. One degree off meant death.
Holding a hatching egg in your hand, one that you've
watched over for a month, is literally pretty cool.
Those ducks were my one major achievement, and
I loved them more than anything. They ruined our
garden, but they were mine and they were happy.
Then my parents decided to get an extension, and
having ducks in the garden was no longer allowed.
They went to live with some woman on a farm, and
I don't know how long they lived. They could still
be there, for all I know. I think about my ducks
every day, and I want them back.
I'm actually not a mentalist, I'm just bored.
better buy me a Macbook Pro or a puppy, otherwise
I'd start suffering from jealously and sibling rivalry.
They didn't get me either, so I kicked off.
I didn't, obviously, but recently I started doing some
thinking, about how my life didn't turn out quite as
spectacularly as I'd planned and all.
And how some tiny part of me still believes I might
one day get to grow up on a farm, or learn piano,
or start my own zoo.
So I've selected the three most tragic events of my
23 years, which I think are responsible for my failures.
Truely, this is as bad as my life has thus far got.
My ultimate dream, as it happens, was to own a dog
of my own. As a kid, I really believed that if I was
allowed a dog, my entire life would simply fall into
place. I'd be happy and willing to succeed, because
this simple dream had been granted.
And after much begging and pleading, my wish was
granted! Enter Ella, yellow labrador cross polar bear.
Thus begins life failure part one.
Despite mine and Ella's obvious disdain for each other,
despite the fact that she ripped all my clothes, chewed
on my arms and attacked my face, my parents would not
get rid of her.
Ella is still here, and although she no longer attacks me,
we have NEVER, in her 10 years, got along. For a long
time I went off animals, despite the fact that before this,
I dreamed of being a vet. If we'd never got Ella, that
might have happened.
Life failure part two is a tale of misplaced blame and
mean spirited adults.
When I was 10 I rode my sisters bike down the road. It
was too big for me but I was still going pretty fast. Some
stupid woman a few houses down pulled out of her drive,
at speed, and hit me. My sisters bike and I landed on the
bonnet with a pretty impressive bang.
The stupid woman, evidently full of concern, asked me
where I lived and walked beside me as I slowly, and with
difficulty, pushed the twisted bike home, blood pouring
out of my nose. I mean, she could of helped, right?
My mum cleaned up my blood, thanked the woman for
not killing me, and I was made to feel very bad indeed
for causing inconvenience to the poor witch. She hit ME.
A 10 year old! She didn't even look! Yet this has always,
somehow, been my fault.
The final reason I'm a failure involves the loss of loved
ones.
My ducks; Yellow and Grey. I had Yellow and Grey
from day one. I built an incubator out of a £5 propegater
from B&Q. I attached a light bulb and spent 30 long days
keeping the temperature and humidity perfect. And I
mean PERFECT. One degree off meant death.
Holding a hatching egg in your hand, one that you've
watched over for a month, is literally pretty cool.
Those ducks were my one major achievement, and
I loved them more than anything. They ruined our
garden, but they were mine and they were happy.
Then my parents decided to get an extension, and
having ducks in the garden was no longer allowed.
They went to live with some woman on a farm, and
I don't know how long they lived. They could still
be there, for all I know. I think about my ducks
every day, and I want them back.
I'm actually not a mentalist, I'm just bored.
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Max
I have a nephew! He is called Max.
I haven't met him yet, because he only got born
last night. I'm quite excited though, I sure hope
he likes me.
My laptop, which went into a coma in Cambodia,
has been officially pronounced dead. It's the
motherboard, so that means I get to buy a new one!
New baby, new laptop. I don't know which I'm
looking forward to the most.
I haven't met him yet, because he only got born
last night. I'm quite excited though, I sure hope
he likes me.
My laptop, which went into a coma in Cambodia,
has been officially pronounced dead. It's the
motherboard, so that means I get to buy a new one!
New baby, new laptop. I don't know which I'm
looking forward to the most.
Sunday, 2 August 2009
Blahh
Hello.
I'm getting really rubbish at this blog thing, mainly
because I'm home now and nothing happens anymore.
I got home last week. On Saturday. I don't particularly
want to be home, but I do want to be here when my
sister has a baby, which will be any day now.
Since my last blog Will and I spent 9 days in Siem Reap,
Cambodia. Seriously, never spend that long in SR. The
temples were nice and everything, but what else is there
to do? Nothing, is the answer to that.
Apart from visit a floating village, get ripped off and buy
tonnes of crap in the markets.
But I saw Angkor Wat, so I'm happy.
Then we spent about 4 nights in Kuala Lumpur. We stayed
in China Town, which is meant to be the cheapest area.
Although in the end we payed a load of money for a nice
hotel because the rest were disgusting. We forked out
18 quid a night for the pleasure of not getting bed bugs.
We met up with Graham, from Samui, one night, and had
Chinese food and lots of expensive drinks until we got thrown
out of the bar.
Other stuff happened. Then I got on an aeroplane which would
drop me off at Stansted 13 hours later.
Will stayed.
I do miss being away. I miss seeing new things.
Kirsten and I have booked a holiday to Rhodes for the
16th September. Plus me and dad are going to maybe
spend a week walking Hadrien's Wall. It's 89 miles long!
Plus I may be going to Italy in October.
So things aren't totally shitty. What's with this English
summer though. I have to wear a coat when I go out!
And SHOES. I hate shoes!
I'm getting really rubbish at this blog thing, mainly
because I'm home now and nothing happens anymore.
I got home last week. On Saturday. I don't particularly
want to be home, but I do want to be here when my
sister has a baby, which will be any day now.
Since my last blog Will and I spent 9 days in Siem Reap,
Cambodia. Seriously, never spend that long in SR. The
temples were nice and everything, but what else is there
to do? Nothing, is the answer to that.
Apart from visit a floating village, get ripped off and buy
tonnes of crap in the markets.
But I saw Angkor Wat, so I'm happy.
Then we spent about 4 nights in Kuala Lumpur. We stayed
in China Town, which is meant to be the cheapest area.
Although in the end we payed a load of money for a nice
hotel because the rest were disgusting. We forked out
18 quid a night for the pleasure of not getting bed bugs.
We met up with Graham, from Samui, one night, and had
Chinese food and lots of expensive drinks until we got thrown
out of the bar.
Other stuff happened. Then I got on an aeroplane which would
drop me off at Stansted 13 hours later.
Will stayed.
I do miss being away. I miss seeing new things.
Kirsten and I have booked a holiday to Rhodes for the
16th September. Plus me and dad are going to maybe
spend a week walking Hadrien's Wall. It's 89 miles long!
Plus I may be going to Italy in October.
So things aren't totally shitty. What's with this English
summer though. I have to wear a coat when I go out!
And SHOES. I hate shoes!
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