Friday, 25 February 2011

Da da da da, da da da da, there's nothing like Austraaaalia

Hello people who are 11 hours in the past. Please insert witty Doctor Who/ Back To The Future reference in here. I couldn't think of one witty enough.

So. I am in Australia, typing very quietly, because I am babysitting, and one of them just woke the other up and I had to go and get milk and read bedtime stories half way through the blog post.

Things I have done so far that are not normally part of my daily routine:

1. Eaten about five small meals a day rather than two large ones.
2. Eaten lychees.
3. Worn brown canvas trousers (with flip flops, and I spent the whole day thinking "I saw Cady Haron wearing army pants and flip flops, so I wore army pants and flip flops.")
4. Not worn any make-up at all in nearly two weeks despite going places every day
5. Fainted in the middle of a Melbourne law firm for no apparent reason, alarming an Australian woman called Margaret.
6. Been visited in the night by a three year old who then fell asleep in the bed next to me, and held on to me like a teddy bear for three hours.
7. Seen a huntsman spider.
8. Attended a primary school barbecue.
9. Travelled around on a tram by myself.
10. Eaten takeaway pizza with three lesbians and two gay men.

I also saw some bats. Many bats. Black bats.

Next Thursday I am off Conservation Volunteering. Little bit scared but I rang the people and they seem to have a plan for what I'm doing, which is subject to change, but at least they know who I am and won't be confused when I show up.

It's the middle of summer here, which is weird. And they do have cheddar cheese, that was a myth I heard.

All I can think of for now, better sneak away before the kids wake up. Not sure when I'll next blog, but I'll be on facebook/email-able until Friday (or, Thursday, in UK time)

I love everyone in St. Albans (with the exception of people I don't know/ like, but if you know who I am then I probably love you or at least like you a bit.)

Saturday, 12 February 2011

Leaving on a Jet Plane

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go. The rest of the song isn't really relevant, because I do know when I'll be back again, I don't intend to bring a wedding ring home, and 'so lonesome I could die' is a slight exaggeration.

The vast majority of my goodbyes are already done. I said bye to Jack last week, Laura and Jane came round for a very enjoyable nine and a half hours of Indiana Jones and compulsive eating yesterday, and today I have been making the rounds of the neighbours. It's been a bit of a whirlwind of packing, skyping, hugging and phone calls.

I can't quite believe I'm going to Australia tomorrow. I'm really going to miss everyone, and I am dreading the moment tomorrow when I say goodbye to my parents at security, but I'm also, obviously, excited. Feeling a little bit like this:


But also a little bit like it's my first day of school tomorrow, but a really big, far away school with kangaroos.

I will keep in touch as much as I possibly can, whenever I have internet access. Oh my God I am going to Australia tomorrow. Except not right now; right now I am going to go and eat dinner with my parents.

Goodbye Everyone And I Love You All. See you in August (although I'll blog lots before then obviously).

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Valentine's Day

As some people already know, due to an anomaly in the space-time continuum I am not going to have Valentine's Day this year. I fly at around midday (note to self: actually look up flight time) on February 13th, arriving in Australia twenty four hours later. This is midday on February 14th in UK time, but Australia is 12 hours ahead, so it will already be midnight, and Valentine's Day will be over.

This of course poses an enormous problem. Where will my hordes of secret admirers send their cards/flowers/chocolate/large sums of money? I mean, I usually spend every 14th of February sorting through thousands of letters from my adoring fans. Last year they actually had to close the Post Office because every single letter and package that came through was addressed to me. If I'm on a plane travelling very fast I don't know how this will work. I forsee Royal Mail strikes, police riots and general chaos.

...or, alternately, it will actually be the best Valentine's Day I have ever had. I usually celebrate Valentine's Day about as much as I celebrate Ramadan, but I get to go and see my boyfriend, Australia, although he has a bad case of Cyclone Yasi at the moment. And hey, maybe they'll show Rom Coms on the plane.

Tuesday, 8 February 2011

The Triplet

This happened in my house today:

Me: Do I have a secret triplet I don’t know about?

Mum: When I first saw the scan I thought you might be triplets.

Me: What would you have named the triplet? It would have to be a four-letter one syllable word.

Mum: Oh dear.

Me: Not a swear word! Not like Jack, Anne and Fuck.

Cue my mother and I laughing hysterically on the landing for about five minutes, while she's putting her laundry into a basket and I'm struggling to hold onto my laptop, a pile of clean clothes and a bank statement.

Poor Fuck, he gets so forgotten amongst his siblings. I like to think that nobody pays attention to him because I'm the girl and Jack's the disabled boy and he's just 'the other one.' You know that short guy you saw wandering around school with dark hair and a very forgettable face? Yeah, that was him. He lives in our garden shed because he's painfully shy of strangers, and only joins us for meals once a year, on our birthday.

It's true, I swear. There were two whole minutes unaccounted for between Jack and I being born; plenty of time for another one.

Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Oh Score.

New blog post, because the one I wrote instead of this one was about nothing, and I just found out something pretty cool.

Deathly Hallows Part 2 release date in UK? 15th July

Deathly Hallows Part 2 release date in Australia? 14th July.*

Right. That is it. I am really looking forward to this film, and I don't think I can sit around in the UK waiting for a whole extra day. There is only one thing for it; I will have to go to Australia. I know it sounds crazy, but it's the final Harry Potter film after all, and I can't bear the thought of those Australians seeing it 24 hours ahead. (And Australia is already 12 hours ahead, which makes my brain hurt, but I think that means they actually see it even earlier. I think. Hmm, I don't know.)

I think I'll go next Sunday, just to make sure I get a really good seat, because you can never arrive at the cinema too early. That'll give me five months to buy popcorn and possibly even have a little browse around the cinema foyer if I'm lucky. I could of course go to France, where the release date is 13th July, but unfortunately I would need to become completely fluent in the language. Conveniently, they speak English in Australia, although for all I know the film could be dubbed with Hugh Jackman, the little boy from Round The Twist, and Nicole Kidman as Harry, Ron and Hermione respectively, and with Geoffrey Rush as Dumbledore, and Tim Minchin as Voldemort.

Better pack a bag or something.

* There is no possible logical explanation for the Australian release date being earlier than the UK one other than that Warner Bros know about me, and love me very much.

Tuesday, 25 January 2011

Sleepless In St. Albans

I woke up at 3.30am this morning, after having a dream that I was saying goodbye to people at the airport before going to Australia. These people were my Mum (fair enough, she will be there in real life), Laura, Jane and, for some odd reason, Catie's Dad. I assume he must have driven Laura and Jane to Heathrow or something. Anyway, everyone except Catie's Dad was crying in a way I don't actually anticipate will happen in real life, apart from with my mum, who cries if she sees an ambulance, and I awoke with the dawning realisation that in 19 days I am going to Australia for six months.

Whenever I think about it, I struggle to get my head around it. I'm majorly excited to the point where I get a little teary with excitement if I go onto YouTube and watch the 'There's Nothing Like Australia' Australian tourist board advert. And I'm scared to the point where I get nostalgic for stupid things like Morrisons and the coffee machine and the traffic lights by the station. (Seriously, I'm going to be nearly as far away from those traffic lights as it's possible to get without going into Space. Or to New Zealand.)

So I am completely and utterly wide awake. But, importantly, Australia is not that far, because they still speak the same language, have the same book covers, say 'pissed off', and, as I remembered earlier, created the 90's TV show 'Round The Twist.' So, you know, I always have that as a topic of conversation to fall back on. In periods of awkward silence I can just sing the theme tune.

Maybe Tim Minchin will be there and I can pay him to be my lifecoach. Or the other way round, because I have a pretty tight budget.

Wednesday, 19 January 2011

Lol Skins

Recently, I have been watching Skins. I never watched the first four series when they were on TV, so I thought, given all the hype, I might give it a go.

I have to say, I am relieved that somebody finally thought to make a documentary of my years in Sixth Form. I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong impression that I spent the past two years of my life attending lessons, going to town with friends, watching TV and reading the odd book. I mean, remember that time when I brought that huge bottle of vodka into school, drank it in a supply cupboard and then threw up on a teacher? And when the same teacher had sex with my friend on the school trip? Not to mention the time when a squatter locked me out of my own house while I was naked and then some drug dealers smashed up my clarinet.

I'm joking about that last one of course. I don't play the clarinet.

Anyway, this particular quote (said in the middle of a lesson in front of everyone) basically sums up my teenage years:

"I got off with Tony on the Russian trip. I only did it because I fell out with Anwar when he said he hated gays, so I got upset, and Tony said he'd give me head, to cheer me up, you know. It didn't mean anything- I lost my head, and then he gave me head, and then we got deported from Russia."

Let's be honest, we've all been there. Every. Bloody. School. Trip.

All sarcasm aside, it's actually a brilliantly entertaining programme. My only small qualm with the plot is what kind of crazy school has a Female Staff Shower Room which teenage boys can easily wander into? They need to get the PTA onto that.