What a week...

This week began with a council meeting to see if we could start on the steps to save the pub.  Many of you will know that my favourite pub in the world is facing demolition.  In the middle of the week it was the beginning of Lent, which in some ways I was looking forward to as after a fantastic weekend in Amsterdam, I really needed a detox.  The week then ended on a strange note with me not going out and staying at home baking. 

The council meeting went very well, they were not impressed with the design that the developers had put forward, and were interested in a sign that sits on the top of the pub.  We were happy with the outcome of the meeting and headed back to the pub for dinner and a chat.  I love this place and I love the people who run it.  The thought of it being demolished breaks my heart.  The amount of work that has gone into making it the successful place that it is, the jobs that it provides and fun that it brings, it makes me sad when I think of all of that being destroyed.

On Tuesday night I made a couple of batches of pancakes and had some good friends around for a catch up.  I was trying to stay up so that I could call my Mum who works in a school, and have the two minutes silence to remember Christchurch with her.  I love pancakes and I love wine, so it was a great night.  But there was always the two minutes of silence at the back of my mind.  I watched some of the coverage on the NZ Herald website and was quite choked up when it finally happened.  I could not help but remember a year ago.  I thought about Cate and how she and I got through this with lots of hugs, tears and wine.  I am not sure that either of us are really over it.

On Wednesday Lent began.  I began my rather intense detox.  It was not a great day at work.  I was quite tired and had a thumping detox headache by the time that I got home.  I had missed out on tickets to the film that had been made about that day a year ago.  So I had decided to get last minute tickets to The Wombats.  I love The Wombats and definitely needed a bit of craziness to get over this day, after an hour long nana nap of course.  Cate called to see how I was doing and asked if I wanted to meet after the movie, she didn’t want me to be sad on my own.  But she also had some bad news.  She can tell you better than I can, it’s her story after all.

Dear Friends,

It is with the utmost sadness and regret that I have to inform you of the impending closure of The Castle.

After a meeting with the developers, Languard Investments, they have decided to terminate our tenancy agreement. This is in direct response to our involvement in, and the current succesfulness, of the Save The Castle campaign. We have to have vacated the premises no later than MAY 22nd

We were offered a reprieve, so long as we cut all ties to the Save The Castle campaign and retracted our objections, but both Aaron and I are unwilling to do that as we DO want to save the Castle, not for us, but for all of you.

I feel incredibly guilty that the closure of such an amazing and long standing establishment has come during my tenancy, and sincerely hope that you can forgive me for this.

Please come by and help us celebrate the last few months of this awesome pub, and if you haven't already, please can you put your objections into the council, so that planning can be refused and we can have The Castle back

WE WILL KEEP FIGHTING!

Aroha nui

Cate

Upon hearing this news, I was gutted.  There is nothing that I dislike more than when big corporations or landlords walk all over the underdogs.  I dislike it even more when it’s my friends that they are pushing around.  I was outraged.  My Mum’s suggestion of getting Sons of Anarchy to sort out the developers was loved by all.

So I went and danced my butt off at that concert.  It was awesome, we boogied through the whole thing and had a laugh whilst doing it.  I love The Wombats even more.

Thursday passed in an upset blur – I had lost one of my earrings that my parents had given me for my 21^st.  I have worn these gold hoops every day for ten and a half years.  Even the sunshine and the walk around the bridges at lunchtime was not really cheering me up.  Gym and a healthy dinner and it was off to bed for me, but not before my flatmate found my earring.  See how my week has been up and down.

Friday, I got tickets to Florence and the Machine, who are on my bucket list for this year.  Exciting!  Then work, off to the gym and then home to bake it out.  You see today, Saturday, is the fundraiser for Christchurch, there will be a pig on a spit and raffles and a bucket that I intend to rattle at lot.  Re-enacting my shaking it for Christchurch, which proved so successful last year will be a good thing.

So that was my very up and down week.  Today the sun is shining and it all seems a bit of a mess.   But I have to believe that it will get better, I just have too.  And if it doesn’t, you all will be getting fat on me, baking it out.

The Sex Life of Bees

I like to kid myself that I am an adult.  But the reality is that I love having a great conversation about sex with my friends, not so much my parents, but definitely my friends.  We have a great a laugh and get right on in there.  If you are finding yourself disagreeing, think about when the programme on whales showed on NZ television and they were speaking about the 8ft penis, how it made the news and how we were all talking about it…

So picture this.  Its 8am, I am at my weekly bee keeping course on a Thursday morning in a room full of strangers, average age 40 +.  And the teacher begins to speak about how bees reproduce, something I had given slim to none thought about.  And it turns out that they are kinky wee things.

Apparently the Queen leaves the hive and heads to the congregation area.  She flies around for a bit.  Then she proceeds to have it off with a drone.  When he is done he pulls away, leaving his willy in there and dies.  Then the next drone comes along, they have to clear out the left over willy, and then they do the nasty, he leaves his willy in there, pulls out and dies as well.  This happens over and over again until she is full up of swimmers and she heads back to the hive and uses them over a number of years to lay eggs.  This ensures that there is a diversity in the babies as well as that the Queen is fertilised for a number of years.

So after reading that, I am sure that you are having a giggle at the image of a wee bee having to clear out the remains of the last and then getting on in there.  I wanted to laugh so bad, I could not meet the eyes of anyone in the room.  No one said a word.  There was not even a snigger.

I for one, raised my eyebrows and put my glasses arm in my mouth and looked like I was mulling it over, but in reality, the glasses were to stop me from laughing.

Later in the pub, I was relaying this to my friend Abby, who also found the whole thing hilarious, she grabbed her friend and was like hey did you know how bees have sex?  They were playing that night and all through the set there were references to be being a Queen Bee – ummm EW!  And also the now slightly famous Mustang Nic, which was made worse by Juddy inserting the word Moist (again ew) and then singing the lyric weeping eye.  You can see why sex conversations are hilarious!  Hilarious, very inappropriate, and oh oh so brilliant.

So there you have it.  Bees are funny and interesting creatures.  Sex is hilarious and even funnier when its animals for some reason.

Some Moments Just Stand Out

I can still remember the moment that I told my close friend Monica that I was moving to the UK.  It was a Saturday night, she and her husband Brendon were getting ready to embark on their honeymoon the next day, and I was making them dinner. 

 

The last few blogs have been a bit sentimental, so this one comes to you from the same vein.  At a time when I am thinking about my future and when they are celebrating their 5^th wedding anniversary it seems apt.

I was living with them after leaving a long term relationship.   Amazing friends huh.  They had been married all of about 6 months when I turned up on their door step with a suitcase and a coffee table. I was thinking about what I was going to do with the money that was coming my way from the sale of my portion of the house and a trip was the first thing on my mind.  I had always wanted to go to Europe, I had been talking about it for years.  I had been poised to begin the trip 5 years earlier but had met this man instead.

So back to the dinner, it had been a busy week and here I was wittering on about this trip that was going to change my life and Monica looked at me and said Hang on what are you talking about?  I thought you were going for a trip, are you going to live?  I had forgotten in my excitement that I had forgotten to tell her.  She was so great, she gave me a great big hug and said that even though she was gutted that I was going, that it was something that I had been talking about for years and it was a great idea.

So we sat down around her kitchen table and discussed what the future was bringing for us all.  And this kitchen table has seen a number of great discussions like this.  I was sitting at it when Monica produced her hand with a gorgeous engagement ring, and I was one of the many that helped to renovate that room when they bought the house together.

The three of us had a ball living together.  We would hang out after work, fire going, drinking a couple of glasses of wine or bourbon, have a cuppa later on and talk for ages.  When I was at home that is.  I was often referred to as the live in student – as I was hardly ever there, leaving at about 6am to head to the gym, then out at night.  I loved that time of my life, although it was all over the place, I had them to anchor me and to have a great time with.

Coming home this time, Monica and Brendon had moved from the house where we had all of these memorable moments.  They have a beautiful new home, filled with their lovely young family.  On a typical pre Christmas drink, this time with loads of babies, we could have wound back the clock 4 years, we were back to laughing our heads off and drinking too much.  They were kind enough to share their holidays with me again, to welcome some of my friends and to introduce me to some new ones of theirs. 

 

I will always miss living less than 5 minutes from them.  In all of my life that has been the distance between us.  Until I moved here and missed out on some pretty big milestones in their lives.  I can never quite believe that I was not there for the babies being born, but I have met them now and it’s lovely to hear them call me Aunty Nic.  I am one of the ladies in the red dresses at Mummy and Daddy’s wedding.  But they have missed some of the big moments in my life over here too.   It was fitting that when I did date someone, that Monica was the first one to speak to him on the phone, even before my family. 

The best thing though, is that no matter the 12,000 miles between us, we are no more than a phone call or email away.  And when we do see each other in the flesh, it is like we have never been apart.  Monica will always be cheering me on to see more and do more, and I will always be sending her and her family postcards from my adventures.  So after much deliberation and homesickness, I have decided that I will be in the UK for the time being.  I will them her and our close knit group of friends more than I can ever put into words, but they are never far from my thoughts or rather sickeningly my heart.

Hindsight - it's not always 20/20

There are some things that are certain.  Winters will be cold, London will be grey, the pub will be warm and people in your group of ex pat friends come and go.  But for me I know that my parents will always be there for me.  No matter what happens they will help me out, bail me out, provide me with a roof over my head and a delicious dinner.  Also that in our own minds we are the stars in our own stories, we see things from a very skewed point of view sometimes.

Another certainty is that sometimes when my parents are around I will be reduced to acting like a teenager, despite my best efforts.  My sister and I are the same, I guess that no one pushes your buttons like your family.  So when my parents decided to come and visit me in the UK, I should have expected what would have happened.

I was excited beyond belief about seeing my parents.  It had been 18 months since we had seen each other in the flesh and I had planned out an itinerary that would show them as much as possible in the two weeks that I had them for.   When they arrived I was very tired and a bit cranky.  Excited but cranky.  I had been working crazy hours to enable me to have time off to spend with them, and their flights were redirected so they were landing at crazy a clock, and were delayed due to the ques through customs.

We headed home and they went to bed, whilst I baked for a friend’s birthday at the pub.  We had a great night, drinking and dancing, laughing with my friends.  They went home a bit earlier, unable to stay up as late as me due to the jetlag.   We had a great time whilst they were here, but the way that I remembered it for a wee while is that our time was coloured by my bad behaviour. 

 

I remember especially being frustrated on the tube with my parents.  To my great shame at one point I pushed my mother off a tube.  When I eventually was able to tell one of my friends this, she cracked up and said that we all have had to do this at one time or other, that our parents no matter how old or young they were, are unable to cope with the tube and that they think that it will be like NZ where they can take their time.  I eventually bought this up with my mother, she just laughed and said that it was for her own good and that she had not given it a second thought.

I was further surprised when my Mum mentioned to me she and Dad both thought that I had been so good to them when they were here.  When I said to her that I felt bad, as I thought that due to my bad behaviour that their trip had been ruined, she again said that she didn’t realise that I felt that way and that they did not feel that way at all.  I now feel better about this trip, not guilty at all.  So I guess that is when I realised that the world did not revolve around me.  (that was sarcastic!)  And also realised that my perception of my moods was not always accurate either. 

This was further highlighted to me, when a friend that I had written a letter too, told me that when she first read it, that she was so pleased to hear from me.  Then she said that she read the letter again and was very upset as I sounded like I was very unhappy.  Which is not true, so maybe I wrote the letter on a bad day.  I was in a hurry to get it in the post but still did not think it was that bad.  Maybe she noticed chinks in the happiness that I did not.

What I am trying to say in a very roundabout way is this – things always look different in hindsight, and that they are never as bad as you imagine.  So stop dwelling on the past, remember the happy times and plan for a happy future.  That is my lesson for today anyway.

City Chick, Country Chick

So I am back in London.  It’s chilly, grey and today it’s raining.  And to top it off TfL have stuffed up right royally this morning, Northern Line is down and the buses are packed.  So I am at home waiting for madness to die down before trying again to head into work.

But all of this has me thinking.  Am I a city chick or a country chick?  The thing about London is that it’s a wonderful city to live in.  I love London and the fast pace that it sets.  But then I love getting out of London every now and then and breathing a little deeper with fresh air in my lungs.  I am always amazed at how different I look in the country as well.  With the sun out, I am less likely to put on makeup, I take off most of jewellery, and sometimes don't even wear a watch.  To return to the city this time, almost immediately, I felt the urge to paint my nails, apply makeup and to be my city self again. 

I used to find the same thing when I lived in Auckland.  The weeks leading up to Christmas I would be pulling my hair out and cursing humanity and those who had waited six months since their accidents to demand getting their cars fixed before they went away on holiday.  Insurance was fun in those days.  I would be pining for the beach and Magical Mangawhai was within reach.  And for the next week or so I would sit out in the sun with a book, walk the beach daily, maybe even swim and eat delicious food.  I would always be sad to leave to head back to Auckland when the holiday was over.

But then I love the convenience of living in a big city.  Everything is within reach.  I love that I can get to the shops in ten minutes and that if I am ever in trouble there is a taxi on every corner.  I love that in London I can see a movie at the drop of a hat and that there are plenty of restaurants to choose from.

The week before I left in NZ I visited my friend who since I left has moved to a farm.  I love a good roadie so I was happy to jump in the car and head down to see her and her lovely family.  When I got there it was sunny and we were able to sit outside and catch up.  The kids adore living in the country, they have a small motorbike that they ride, they feed chickens, they see the cows being milked and they play in the sun all day.  It was kinda nice sitting there, having eaten baking, and a pizza with eggs from the family chickens on it.  Rhi is very, very happy with her life on the farm.  Her husband has taken to it like a duck to water.

So now that I am back in London, with a head full of homesickness, wondering where I will go next, I am thinking, do I think about moving to the country.  Should I find a job in a country town, where I can always breathe, where I will never have to feel the need to escape?  Or is this just a dream?  Is it only my perception from the other side of the fence?  Should I save up to have a place to escape too, my own little bolt hole?

Are you a country chick or a city chick?  Or are you like me, a bit of both?  Do you have somewhere to escape to when it all gets a bit much?

Forever Friends

I am one lucky girl.  I have a wonderful bunch of friends the world over, whom I miss on a regular basis.  But when we see each other, within five minutes, it’s as though no time has passed at all.  We are laughing and have picked up where we left off.

It’s a strange feeling this, it’s like the last two years have been a dream.  It leads to a sense of timelessness.  Yes, there are babies that have arrived without me seeing the bumps.  Yes, there is everyday gossip to work through but in general it’s easy to slot back in.

I went to a friend’s wedding in Sydney on the weekend.  Fe and I met on a bus trip through Europe and from day one, we were inseparable.  In fact it has been commented on that from our photos, you would think that we were travelling on our own!  We discovered that our birthdays were a day apart and that we were both moving to London without knowing a soul there.  It was natural for us to get a place together.  Fe’s boyfriend Dan came to visit us for a few weeks and we had a ball together.  Fe and I got through the first hell six months in London with pretty much only each other.  There were tears, laughs and loads of crazy times in our wee flat with no tele.  After Dan left Fe was heartbroken, and I encouraged her to go back home to him.  That’s not to say that I didn’t miss her like a limb or ball like a baby when she left.

At Fe’s wedding, I was both surprised and delighted to be mentioned in her wedding speech.  I was accepted as a member of her family, just as she has been in mine (she and Dan have visited NZ and stayed with my family). And on this occasion I made another friend who I can see is a keeper, she is already willing me to move to Aussie.

Saying goodbye to Fe was hard.  Saying goodbye to my road trip friends was difficult.  How on earth am I going to be able to say goodbye to my family and friends this time?  I am beginning to feel homesick for NZ, even though I am still here.  Now I am more confused than ever about where I want to live – NZ, Aussie or London?

Don’t worry London peeps, I have not forgotten about you.  I think about you loads and am looking forward to being back in your fold soon.  But as most of you are expats I am sure that you can relate to what I am feeling.

The last time I was at home I was not in a good way.  I was ill with endo and not in a happy place with men.  This time is different.  I am the happiest I have been in years and apparently it shows.  My oldest (not in years) friend said it took her a while to figure out what was different about me.  She finally realised it was that I was happy.  What a nice thing to hear.

I maintain that this is down to my amazing support network the world over.  No matter where I am in the world there is someone there, or if there is not they are at the end of the phone or computer and they are all on my side, pulling for me to be happy and to do the best I can.  I wish that you could all meet each other one day, I am sure that you would have a great time and love each other as much as I love you all!

Happy 2012

Hi!  It’s been a while since I have had two spare mins to type my own name since arriving in NZ.  I am on the home stretch now, two weeks left of warmth, family and friends before heading back to the freezing temperatures of London.

Home has been exciting - my sis’ wedding, Christmas, New Year’s, a roadie, another wedding this time in Sydney and now back to Auckland to spend time with friends and family.

I have had a great time being with my friends who have known me forever.  One night before Christmas the three of us were laughing like teenagers, causing a husband to say ‘Look at the state of you lot!’  It was like we had never been apart.  It’s been amazing meeting the kids as well.  They are so cute and have really begun to grow up and have personalities. 

I always find New Year an odd time.  There is a huge pressure for an amazing night, which if I am honest never really happens.  I have a good time, but throughout the year I have amazing nights that are normally better than New Year.  I also find it a time for reflection, goal setting and wondering what the future holds for me.  This New Year had the added interesting addition of a tropical cyclone thrown in.  Nothing like tenting in the pouring rain.

I woke up on New Years Eve at about 2am to see that my tent was still standing in a thunder storm with torrential rain.  And then could not get back to sleep.  I had to get up at 6am to pick up some friends from the airport in Auckland and then head back up to the beach where we were going to welcome the New Year in with a cocktail party.  So I was a tad jaded and tired when I accepted my first cocktail – a vodka, champagne concoction.  And then the fun began, there was really no time for reflection amongst the laughing, the dancing in the rain like hippies and the singing along to a friend on the guitar.  However, it was during a rendition of ‘You better be home soon’, that I began to wonder when I would be home again.  I have been encouraged by my friends to come home sooner rather than later.  For the first time in a long time someone has put that into words and it made me sad.

 

But not for long.  We had an awesome night and I fell into bed and passed out.  The next day the roadie of Northland began and we had a ball.  I laughed pretty much constantly for three days straight.  I got to drive again, which is way more tiring than I remember, and also see some places that I had never been to before.  I was disappointed to see how commercial Paihia has become.  I remember being there in my early 20’s, but I guess things move on.  So we headed further north to KeriKeri and camped there.  It was cool to show off my country to both a Kiwi who had never been that far north and a Brit who had never been to NZ.

 

It was sad to say goodbye to them when they headed further South and I headed out to Sydney.  One of the hardest things about travelling is the amount of goodbyes that you have to say.  You form bonds very quickly through shared experiences, but often they are only for short times.  I hate the fact that when you say goodbye you never know when you are going to see someone again.  It is the one thing about travelling that I absolutely hate.  And everyone knows how I cope with goodbye.  I was very good and waited till I was driving away before having a good old meltdown.  Luckily, I was not far from one of my fav beaches.

Piha is a great place to have a think and a recharge.  And whilst I still don’t have the answers to the questions that this New Year has bought me, I am a step closer I think.  I love being out there and when I got there, it was teeming with people and the sun was shining, who can’t be happy with that?

So what did you do for New Year?  Did you make resolutions? Do you find it a reflective time or a party time?  Are you as bad as me at goodbye?