Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Not Quite, One Year

Well, I've been in London not quite one year, and upon reflection I can see how I have grown as a person and have come to rather love this garbage strewn city.

Point 1: Travelling. What is the point of living in London if you don't travel far and wide as often as possible. It is like an obsessive compulsive sickness... I could buy those shoes OR I could buy return flights to Berlin...aside from the fact that I want to punch a representative from Easyjet in the face, they have unbeatable prices on their european flights and I feel I am wasting time right now sitting at work pretending to be working when I could be flying around somewhere I've never been for £20.

Also my passport is expiring, as of November 11, and I have no idea how long it takes to renew an Australian Passport from overseas, nor how to even get it done?? I have a feeling if I wander into the Australia Shop at Covent Garden they could give me some pointers (and cherry ripes!) so being that I have 6 1/2 weeks of passport flying left I am like a crack addict on a travel website... "just one more trip man......."

I have booked a small trip to Brussells on the Eurostar in October as my last fling, not because I have any keen interest in going to Brusells really (although I do enjoy Mussells, Belgium Beer and Van Damm Movies) but because I have to go somewhere!!!!!!!!! somewhere whilst my passport is still working. Then over my passport waiting hiatus I suppose I can do some Englandy things that are on my list: Cotswolds, Yorkshire (ripping) and Dales. I like the sounds of Dales, I could pretend to be in a poem running over hill over dale in a tiny yellow billowing dress, except I will freeze my tits off as winter is no time to be running around the Dales in a summer dress.

Point 2: Material Possessions. Back home I have a storage container full of really nice expensive furniture that I wouldn't let anyone go near until they had stepped into my vaccum sealed room and had all the dirt and grime sucked off them. only then could they come near my couch. Now my couch isn't even my couch, its some random persons couch. And I don't care what junk you put on that couch. I miss my couch, like I miss my furniture and my possessions that took me 29 years to cultivate. But it is nice having nothing except books and clothes to cart around to your next homestead. Lenny has more furniture than me.

Point 3: Angry Whiney Jerks. Whenever you travel, everyone tells you that the french are the rudest, or the spanish are the rudest, and the germans are the rudest. To be honest I haven't come across a ruder bunch of people than British People. Maybe it's because they don't take advantage of the possibilities to travel to other countries because they are so racist towards them, but they could all do with a week or two in the Mediterranean to chill the fuck out. Example:

Scene: Cafe Nero
Me: "Chai Latte please"
Barista: "Our coffee machine is broken"
Me: "No no, Chai "
Barista: "I can't make you a Latte, the coffee machine is broken!!!!!!!!!!!"

Well good luck with that Chump. FYI: Chai is tea. And doesn't come from a coffee machine.

Pretty much any activity that involves going to the NHS, the bank, the barista, the video store, GAP, M&S, will be met with some angry brit who wants to quit their job and stab you in the face.
Give me the germans and french any day.

That not quite one year went really quickly.

No comments: