Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Three Thrickin Degrees

Yesterday at 7am Australia time, 10pm uk time the temperature was about 9 degrees here and you lucky buggers over there had 26 degrees... At 10 at night!!! So unfair.....

This morning not only does our heating decide to stay asleep instead if warming my cockles. It is three fricking degrees. Seriously?! Three fricking degrees. It's 8am already and it's still three fricking degrees. My toes aren't cold but the rest of me is an I'm not impressed.

Did anyone (aside from those with Aussie blood) honestly think I would ever be complaining about three fricking degrees?! I knew it would get cold. But with a tragic summer and a loss of drought I was not prepared for this. I was not prepared for chilly nights and colder mornings where I would need more than a thick pair of socks to get me warm.

Mental note to all of you. Yes summer can be stifling if it bothers to be warm but DON'T come in winter. Or autumn. It's cold. And you can go to Devon or Scotland for that kind of a holiday. Or just don't come to Melbourne. I'm assured everywhere else is a few degrees warmer than us. What a surprise.

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Cyst- tastic

I have a cyst. Well I did have a bigger cyst. But that's another story.

The current cyst making headlines in my life is a rather unattractive yellow pea sized one playing games with my left tonsil. Oh the fun. The joy it brings.

Three weeks ago I was tired of just coughing EVERY time I put my head on my pillow. And there it was. Next to my tonsil. Red and yellow taunting me.

Now three weeks on it still hasn't moved on to pastures new. And next week I have an appointment for a formal debutante ball if you will between my cyst and Melbourne's medical community. Yippe yey.

This debutante ball will involve a syringe and more than likely some kind of restraint to stop my biting the nurse.

The boys in the office have drawn the attached picture on they whiteboard to commemorate my cysts presence. Bless em. Although it looks more like a booger...

Chocolate treats.

As you all know, I love a good choccie delivery. UK Cadbury's can not be competed with in Ausland. I'm told of a kiwi brand who may come close. But they're hard to find being in Australia n all.

Last week a Cadburys caramel Easter egg arrived. Complete with mug. Yey. Each mini caramel egg envoked visions of THAT scene in when Harry met Sally. They tasted THAT good. But no signature on the customs sticker, no sender details, no note. We had no clue who had sent it. But it was stamped British mail.

I sent a message to the suspected party. But nothing, nata. No confirmation or denial...

Yesterday I get home and two more have arrived. One Smarties and
Creme Egg. Alas they are no longer good to eat. Unpeturbed by an expiry date we ripped open the boxes after dinner, cup of tea in hand like excited giggly children.... But no. The choc has gone. It hadn't even melted and reset. It had just 'gone'. Sad. So sad. We (well I) almost felt like holding a funeral for the eggs. Chocolate doesn't go wasted in my house. How could it when it tastes so damned yum!?

And just in case you wondered - the 2nd delivery - no customs sticker signature - no note - no senders address. Not only has it been illegally posted against customs laws. But it has been sent yet again without me having someone to thank. Shame. As I'm pretty sure they sent it in good faith. Well... I hope so...

Thursday, 16 June 2011

Another royal weekend.

You guys in the UK may have got an extra long weekend off for the wedding. But we here in oz got an extra long weekend off for queenys birthday. Which by my reckoning allows for a better spread of long weekends across the year.

And what do any normal people do here in oz on a long weekend - we go to a beach house somewhere.

Our somewhere was Kate P's family beach house in a teeny tiny town called Sandy Point on the Victorian coastline.

When I say teeny tiny I really really mean teeny tiny. The local pub was a half hour drive away inland at a place called Fish Creek.

Alas I was unwell (again) so we didn't stay the whole weekend. But long enough to sit round a fire in the back yard. And go for a stroll along the beach in the glorious but slightly chilly Australian sunshine. And of course collect the ubiquitous shells to sit pretty in a jar at home. And feel generally well rested (although sick).

Beach houses are the way forward me thinks. Although in the UK that means pricing out the locals in Devon and Cornwall and leaving picture post card fishing villages as empty ghost towns Monday to Friday and in the off season.

Yeah maybe not.

Happy Queens Birthday!

Thursday, 9 June 2011

Birthday Post

For my birthday I was generously given a prepaid credit card and some money from my folks and Lime.

Instead of spending this locally however, I invested in to the UK economy and bought two Radley bags. The black one is from my folks. Blue from Lime.

Fabulous aren't they!

Any of you that have ever posted anything to me will know - it costs money. Generally 15-20 quid a package. Then there is the just over a week up to a month long wait for it's arrival. So how, do Radley send me two handbags in a humongous box for just 20 quid by courier that arrives in less than 5 working days?! How? I paid less than 20 with amazon. And that was for their 'expedited international delivery' and I'm still waiting... It's been over 3 weeks and it only had to come from America. Seriously?!

But thank you all for my birthday post. It's all been eaten/used/worn/spent. And I look forward still to my last remaining pressie from Charlotte and the girls x

A la train carte

Commuters (our FELLOW commuters) are the bane of all of our existences. If they weren't there then we could have a seat. If they weren't there no one would step on your toes, spill coffee on you, 'accidentally' brush your arse/chest etc, cough or sneeze lurgy at you, or nudge you everytime they turn the page on their copy of the latest Dan Brown book or oversized newspaper with aforementioned literary excitement or their oh so bony and hard elbow.

Since starting this entry a woman has sat opposite me coughing without her hand over her mouth. Yuk. Thanks for your germs. That's all I need - another bout of sickness!

I wonder if she's psychic... As she just glared at me. Hmmm...

Commuters here are the same as the uk. But less rich wankers with broadsheets. They all drive in as it's quick and a hell of a lot cheaper than London. Plus no congestion charging. Just some toll roads here and there.

Unfortunately there are more weirdos. Imagine being on a packed like sardines train to Waterloo. And half way between the last stop and Waterloo someone gets up from the middle of the carriage and starts excusing themselves to the door... Seriously. This happens. And people move for them. When I want to scream sit the f down as I can't even turn my head due to sardine status. You can wait until the damn train empties in 2 minutes like EVERYONE else But I don't scream. And every day some weirdo successfully makes it to the door.

Another irritant is the people that you move for. When you clearly and obviously move out the way (normally temporarily into an awkward and uncomfy position) for someone to squeeze past, they have a tendency to not pay any attention to your purple face and contortionist position but then use a large proportion of the space you previously inhabited leaving you in limbo. Note to self : stop forgetting this behavior and moving for people. It only ever ends badly!!

On a lighter note my trains are one hell of a lot more frequent than from Upper Halliford and they take less than half the time of trying to get in to London.

Happy commuting.

Wednesday, 1 June 2011

Sickness v homesickness

Sick days. They suck. Especially when not being paid due to the non permanence of your contract. Yey.

Today, I sit here on my train to work deaf in my left ear. With a curious (and ugly) yellow blister type thing on my left tonsil. Yey.

To add to the nuisance of this sickness I have had the lurgy in various forms for over two weeks now. Boo hiss.

Up until now I hadn't really been sick that I can recall since arriving in oz. The odd bad headache, crippling cramps, hangovers. But the worst I'd had was homesickness. Oh what I wouldn't give to be homesick instead of real sick right now.

With HS (homesickness) it's very similar to normal S. They have the following mutual symptoms:
Desire to stay in bed/on couch
Lack of motivation
Potential to cry
Need for a hug (from your mum preferably)
You want it to stop

Unlike S, once at work HS disappears through distraction and busyness. It will randomly reoccur similar to morning sickness when you least expect it if you stop working/moving/busying yourself for too long. S however is consistent. And is generally sucky all the general time.

My spates of HS have decreased and yet my general S has increased. Are the two linked? Do we all HAVE to suffer a certain amount every year in some form?

For example: the littlest Miss Foley has just visited. This was fabulous. I was v sad after she left. But as I know I will see her in March 2012 it's ok. It's less than a year. I can survive that long easily. So yes I sniffled and perhaps got dewey eyed on the way home but not too much because I know it's not years away.

And 12 hours later I find a yellow blister playing with my tonsil... You see. Linked. We must all suffer a certain amount. Whether this be per year/decade/era I do not know. But I do know I am very glad I work in data entry with my deaf ear today.