Walking with Crazy

I enjoy a good walk.  It gives me time to think, it gives me time to listen to the Fletch and Vaughan podcasts, and sometimes Russell Brand.  It gives me time to learn my French.  Yes that’s right I attempt to learn French as I walk along the road to work.  So I look like a freakin maniac walking along talking to myself.   But I am not the only one by far who walks like a nutter.  I walk past people who are talking to their dogs, talking to themselves, talking on the phone, singing or dancing down the road.

The other day I took the bus to work and was listening to my French on the ipod and mouthing the words to myself.  Something that would not be out of place on my walk or in fact on most parts of the London transport system.  The woman sitting next to me clearly thought that I was nuts.  The thing was that she could see my headphones and she could see my ipod, so what did she really think that I was doing.  Then I thought about all the proper crazy people that I encounter on the tube, the bus, or the train.  Out of these people I am the least crazy.

You see London is full of crazy people, maybe that’s why I feel like I fit in here.  But I take some comfort that I am not the craziest.  One day I was on the 345 home to Battersea and when I got onto the top deck of the bus, there were very few seats.  I hate sitting at the front on the top it makes me feel sick, but I ended up on the front on the right.  Across the aisle from me, there was an older man who was clearly drunk at 5pm and seemed to be on his way home.  He got off the bus at Stockwell, but not before he had pissed and shat himself.  I wish that this was a punchline to a bad joke, but sadly it’s not.  So from Stockwell to Battersea, I did the best I could to stop people from sitting in the drunk man’s wee.  But the thing was that in London we are so used to ignoring others on the bus that people were more prepared to sit in some strangers wee than they were to listen to me saying NOOOOOOO!  In the end there were 3 of us who were all but manhandling strangers before they sat on this stinking seat. 

 

So what does this say about London?  It says that in London people don’t like to talk to others on the tube or bus, even if it’s a warning.  We don’t like to talk to our neighbours and we don’t know our local shopkeepers.  But this is where I am a bit different.  I say hi to the bus drivers when I get on and thanks when I get off.  I have made friends with the people who run my local and now they can’t get rid of me.  In fact one of the bar staff counts the sleeps till I come back.  I know my neighbours, kinda – we get packages delivered to each others houses.

So whilst I might be a tad crazy, at least I am the nice kind of crazy.  I am unlikely to wet myself on a bus.  Bear that in mind the next time that you think that you are mental.  In London there is someone who is more mental than you.

The London Sevens

So this week after working for a very long time, I headed to the London 7’s for finals day.  I had been looking forward to this for a very long time.  For starters I was told the wrong date when the tickets were organised and my friend M who was supposed to come with us, was not back from Malaysia in time.  Sadly I was horrifically hung over, in fact I have not been this hung over since the tequila incident in January.  Thank god it was not that bad, or I would not have been able to go.  But when you get up in the morning and your flatmate says to his friend down the phone that ‘Nic has just gotten out of bed and she does not look that special this morning’ that it’s bad enough.  So we were off to a good start, missing my friend and hung over.

After I had managed to hold down my piece of toast, we boarded the train and headed out to Twickenham.  I was dressed in my All Blacks gear complete with black pompoms. It turned out that my flattie had also forgotten to let me know that there was a dress up theme of Hawaiian.  Great another fail.

However, my saving grace was my three friends who came along to fill some spare tickets that we had.  We met in a bar and the first thing that was said to me is that there is a bottle of Jager with my name on it. Uh oh.  So we headed to the ground just in time to see Australia lose badly. On the way there, the girls knocked back some Jager, but the smell was enough to make my stomach turn. Apparently ‘last night’s Nic would have drunk with us’, well last night’s Nic spent her morning trying to keep toast down.

So we got settled in our seats, which was great, and proceeded with the business of knocking back the cider and cheering with our pompoms.  The three guys behind us were quite fun and thought it was sweet that the four of us were all dressed in our All Blacks gear, even the token Aussie that was with us.  Every time the kiwis warmed up in front of us or were on the field they would point them out to us.

After a while it became apparent to us that there were quite a few kids around and that we would have to be careful with our language etc, which for the most part we were.  But at one point when N and I were dancing to ‘Tonight’s gonna be a good night’ and shaking our pompoms for all that we were worth, when one child turned around and had judgement in his eyes.  He was looking at us with such pity and disgust, we were not even drunk.  We were just having a good time.  And then it was all on.  The 7’s are all about having a good day out and having a bit of a boogie between the games.  These kids were taking the lead from their parents who had booed NZ during their games and the kids were just being kids, but it had still hurt.  So from then on we sung our wee hearts out.  We cheered every try and had a great time.  And to be honest I now know what it’s like to dance like no one’s watching or caring. (actually I already know what that is like – see me at the pub most Friday nights!)

After the games were done we began the pilgrimage back to the station.  Not before having our photos taken with the line out statue –some serious and some very funny ones.  We were all very tired and ready for home, so we got a nasty cheeseburger from the side of the road and hung out with some friends whilst we waited for the crush for the trains to subside.

So what did I learn?  Fate will always ensure that your friends are with you.  There seems to be a fashion among English kids at the moment to have long unkempt hair at all ages.  For some reason the Kiwis get booed at the 7s.  There are loads of Fijians in London!  There should be more occasions where pompoms are needed and accepted.  They just make life a bit more fun. 

People Politics

It’s fair to say that I am tired at the moment, so therefore, might have a short fuse.  It’s fair to say that I am doing a fairly good job of keeping that fuse under control.  But everyone has a point where they just want to throw their hands up in the air and crawl under the duvet and hide from the politics of our society.  I am copping it in both my private and professional life and to be honest I am well over it.  I have seen my friends and colleagues have their feelings hurt and had mine hurt too.

None of this is to say that I am perfect, no more than the next person, and whilst I try to stay out of it, there are times when you can’t avoid it.  In the last two weeks I have heard from just about all of my friends this phrase ‘I love (insert name) but ….’ and then it all comes out, all their frustrations and anxieties.  I am beginning to wonder if there is something in the atmosphere that has got us all disgruntled.  I am certainly beginning to question where the love has gone.

My professional life is looking pretty dismal as well.  With the public sector restructure, people are beginning to fear for their jobs and this is making everyone more than a little cranky.  In what is an already tight environment, money wise, people are being asked to deliver for less and with less.  When people’s livelihoods are threatened they tend to resort back to the survival instincts that we employed in our cave man days.  So therefore we are hearing about what a rubbish job others are doing and what a great job we/us/I are doing.  It’s not a good look, but I can understand that when you are backed into a corner, you will fight your way out.

Add to this a few late nights and you have a grumpy Nicca.  So what am I doing about it?  Well I should be going for a run, but instead, I am sat in front of Home and Away with a bag of doritos, which whilst satisfying now, will make me hate myself later.  Maybe part of the problem is that I have not seen Home and Away for a week.  I am hoping that this will help.

And there are a few of my mates either heading home or planning to head home soon.  And this brings up the inevitable question, is it worth staying here, when I am not happy in my job and not being paid fantastically, and it feels like everyone is going home.  To me it seems that there is little point in living in London being too poor to be able to live the lifestyle.  I know that there would be a couple of happy kiwis, should I move back to their shores, but would I really be happier?  I am here to see the world and travel and I can’t currently afford to do that.

Well that was a bit of a rant, whinge and moan wasn’t it.  I am feeling a tad sorry for myself today.  But there are some bright sides.  I know a whole host of people giving birth this year.  My parents are due here very soon.  I am taking a fun trip home at Christmas and I will get to see my family and friends again.  There are a load of concerts this summer.  A good friend called on the weekend just to see how I was and we had a good chat.  But right now I just feel a bit down.  It could be the weather, it started off sunny today and my walk to work was great.  But by 4pm it was grey and dull.  Maybe it was not getting a chance to speak to my family this weekend. 

 

So right now I am well open to suggestions – I am thinking head to the bath with a bottle of wine, but would love to hear, what do you do when you are feeling blugh.  How do you get over it?

PS – did you know that in Scotland they call Ear muffs, ear defenders!  What is with that!

Wonder Woman Woes

Well, it’s been a while since I have written.  I have been busy since the last time trying to be Wonder Woman.  I have over the last nearly 15 days been working, exercising, sleeping and trying to keep up with friends.  The reality is that I have been working.  And baking.  And entertaining.  And being a good daughter.  And a good friend.  And I guess that is the point, I have been trying to please anyone and everyone.

And this is a problem that faces most women in this day and age, and of my age.  I guess that I am lucky, I don’t have a husband and kids to add to the mix.  Huh.  But this week has been a 15 day stint of working.  I am exhausted.  Has that stopped me baking? No.  Has this stopped me in my quest to be like Pippa Middleton on my sister’s wedding day?  No.  Has it stopped me going out? No.  Catching up with friends? No.  Having a house guest? No.*

Why do we as woman feel the need to prove that we are perfect in every area of our lives?  Why can’t I just say No I need to sleep.  Why can’t I just say, sorry I would love to meet you for a drink but my eyelids won’t stay open?

Because, there are others out there that can hold it together.  That’s why.  I might be seen to be a failure or less of a contributing person.  There is currently a very dangerous trend in woman.  We feel the need to be seen to do it all, and to do it all easily, without stress and with a smile on our faces.  For instance, it used to be the trend at home to get cakes or pastries from the latest up and coming bakery, like Eve’s pantry – the ultimate for a working woman, wife or mother.  Now the trend is to bake, and to bake well.  Whilst this is very austerity and trendy, ummm what about the ladies that work?  What about the people who just don’t have time.  Don’t get me wrong I love baking and it’s a great stress relief, I don’t like the pressure that it adds.  At the moment as much as I want a partner and some kids, I don’t really know where they would fit in.  In fact, I have trouble fitting myself in.  I desperately need a haircut, but am not free when the hairdresser is open, so have resorted to cutting my own fringe.  With disastrous results.  You won’t see photos of me till it grows out.  I need a pedicure, a face mask and my eyebrows plucked.  I need to do the shopping, if my houseguest did not do the shopping, we/I would be living on toast.  And there is no peanut butter cause I have not done the shopping. 

And then there is the house itself.  Its falling apart and I have been given the job of ensuring it gets fixed.  I have arranged workmen and spoken to the landlord more in the last week than I have in the year that I have lived here.  There is a mouse –guess who is getting the traps –but it’s a blue job to empty them.

So I guess that upshot is this – I want to be the perfect woman – well read, cultured, intelligent, good figure, good skin, can cook, bake, dance and have a wonderful relationship.  I am trying my hardest at all of these whilst holding down two demanding jobs.  Well most of these – the only relationships that I am holding down are with my friends who are being very supportive about the fact that I am working every hour god sends.  I find cooking dinner for them helps.

So now I am taking a much needed rest  - or I am watching a movie too late at night with my third glass of some yummy wine.  Either way I am back to work at some ridiculous time tomorrow, to which I will walk and walk back.  And then cook dinner for a few friends.  There is no rest for the wicked and I plan on being very wicked as soon as I have a spare moment – whenever that might be….

*By the way, I love my house guest - its fun like having a long sleep over when you were kids!

The Notting Hill Effect

I can’t comment on what London was like before I got here, all that I knew about London was what I saw on the movies and in books.  However, I knew enough that I wanted to live here.  Bridget Jones and Notting Hill convinced me.  I loved the blue door and the people who lived behind it.  Hugh Grant, well, who cannot fall for the foppy hair.  Yes I wanted a blue door with a letterbox in it.

By the time that I arrived in London I had forgotten about the blue door and its legend in recent history.  But by destiny or just sheer coincidence, since arriving in London, I have always lived behind a blue door.  In all three places that I have lived.  There could be a few reasons for this – it could have become trendy to paint your door blue after movie.  It could just be that I like the colour blue and I am drawn to it….

Behind the blue door in Notting Hill, there lived two men – in varying degrees of insanity – one slightly insane and one completely so.  Behind my blue door or bloor, there live three crazy people and one perhaps slightly crazy  person.  We are not sure about the new one yet – I have seen her once for about 10 minutes in the three days that she has lived with us.  But the three of us are definitely crazy and again of varying degrees.

We have already discussed my craziness many times.  I have come to terms with the fact that I am nuts.  Admitting it is the first step to dealing with it.  I am not really sure how to deal with it.  I have a feeling that it will get worse with age – soon I will deteriorate into a crazy cat lady with beige cardigans, the signs are all there.

But my flatties are like me, we are crazy in similar ways.  C and I are both night owls.  It’s not unusual for us to both be up after 12 on a school night.  I often hear him heading for a cigarette in the late hours.  We both love a good drink with a group of friends – last week he greeted me at the door with a Jagerbomb and wished me a happy Wednesday.  It’s that kind of nuts relationship.  He has been known to bring me back chocolate late at night when I have been craving it like a mofo.  We all live very separate lives but we have a great time when we do get together.  His friends are great too.  We currently are on a gardening binge and have tomatoes and potatoes going crazy in the back yard.  C bought me the coolest pink gardening gloves and we are currently involved in a strange one upmanship as to who can produce the largest garden implement.  I started with some big choppers – what is their proper name?  Then C arrived with a saw and chopped down a whole bush.  I am thinking about a chain saw – I want some of those trees or at least their branches gone….

L is absent most of the time.  She is away so much that when a friend stayed he did not see for the entire week.  And whenever he has been over ever since he has not met her yet.  He is convinced that we have killed her and put her under the house.  He reckons that we will be caught when the bank account empties and she can no longer pay her rent.  But when she is here she is crazy just like us, but in her own way.  I am 99% sure that she has OCD, and she knows it too.  But it does mean that our house is incredibly tidy, and yes even me.  What makes me laugh is that my family and friends will tell you that I am the least likely to be tidy.  In fact it used to be true that I could not be tidy to save myself.  Now I have a very confined mess.  And since my room is so small it’s much more controlled than it ever was.  I call it the L effect...

Whilst none of my flatties are Spike – we are all nuts in our own way and we live behind a blue door.  Maybe this means that my life might become a bit magical like Notting Hill, maybe I too will come into possession of a violin playing goat and maybe I will meet a lovely crazy man like Hugh Grant… And so the craziness continues…..

Au Revior April....

Wow is anybody else concerned about the rate at which the year is passing?  Is it something that happens when you get older or is life really just going too fast right now?  I feel like I blinked and missed April and now May is upon me, and in 10 weeks my parents descend and I have no money saved!!!!!!!

April started with a bang – my fav Brit expat celebrated a birthday like the fool that he is, and I celebrated with a quiz at work.  Our team came very close to winning with our brilliant knowledge of television.  And on the first weekend we had a famous family dinner at The Castle and a fabulous jam session afterwards.  It goes without saying that it is one of my favorite ways to spend the night.  Then there is the wonderful bookclub!  We had read Janet Frame this month.  I was very excited as I loved Frame at high school but her biography was a bit strange.

As always there was a host of movies – Tomorrow when the war began was fabulous!  I loved every minute of it and any movie that starts with a Missy Higgins song has me at hello.  There was also Arthur, which as much as the critics hated it, I kinda liked it.  It was a very sweet tale and my long standing crush on Russell Brand was satisfied by this movie, I had just finished his second book and well, I still love him!  Source Code fueled my adoration for Jake Gyllenhall  and my thoughts as to why all of a sudden are there a spate of movies dealing with our perception of reality???  Is it just me that thinks that this is strange?  Red Riding Hood – I loved it, the cinematography was stunning and the story kept me guessing to the end.  The boys not so much.  But then they were never going to be huge fans.

To counteract all the mindless trash, there was an exhibition at the Tate with my fab boss Savas.  We had a wonderful time at Miro – I love art and this was so brilliant.  We went to the opening night.

And to compliment all the mind bits and pieces – there was the beginning of the running training!  What I hear you gasp?  You running?  Yep you betcha!  It’s been about three years and now I feel brave enough to try running on the crazy pavements in London.  So far, no falls….  Oh and my good friend ran the marathon.  It was so exciting.  I always feel very emotional at the marathon, seeing people achieve their dreams.  I was so very proud of L and I baked her a batch of cookies to get her strength back afterwards.

And my first game of Touch in a loooong time.  It was brilliant, I ran loads, barely touched the ball but touched three people.  What a laugh.

Throw in a couple of girls nights with my besties, picnic in the park was beautiful and lovely, then topped off with some tele watching – anyone else loving Steven Tyler on American Idol?  I just love the way he is so crazy and flamboyant.

Easter kicked off with a bang.  Baking Baking Baking and I managed to make something gluten free and yummy.  We had a fabulous night with a bit of dancing in bunny ears….  I spoke to most of my family on Easter morning and they were all so pleased to hear that I would be home for Christmas.  It was great to hear their voices and I missed them terribly.

And then there was the wedding.  I could barely sleep the night before from excitement, and I was not disappointed.  She looked amazing, I loved the way that he looked at her and wow that kiss was just soooooo sweet, I almost needed a filling.  You know how I feel about the wedding from my last post.

So now we are in month 5.  And it’s time for the real saving and weight loss to begin – some ridiculous number of days till the other wedding of the year (229 at last count eeeekkkk), and till I get to go home.  I will be landing at 5am and then sleeping the day away before I go mental with my sis for her hens night.  I am beyond excited about going home and seeing my family.  Still many more adventures to be had between now and then. 

So are you concerned about how fiendishly quickly life is passing right now?  Are you achieving what you want to achieve?  Any goals between now and the end of the year?