never could get the hang of thursdays
A lazy weekend morning; walking around aimlessly and yet intently; a warm summer afternoon, the cricket on the radio; sumptuous brunches, dinners on par with what your mamma made for ya; ignoring the responsibilities and chillin’ with friends; a birthday barbecue stretching well into the night with new & newer friends, the chatter (and drinks) flowing freely.
Truly, this is what weekends ought to be made of on a regular basis.
Dear Internet,
I fear I must make a small confession.
I left the house on Sunday afternoon, fully intending to take advantage of the sunny day by going to some tourist spot or another – perhaps Lord’s, perhaps Regent’s Park where they were holding a “village fair”. Oh and fake beach volleyball. But that was never a factor.
On the way out, however, I thought up the bright idea of doing a quick bit of shopping while I was at it. I needed to buy:
My jeans were getting a bit tatty, and not to mention my shoes really do need replacement after 2 years of hardy service (these shoes have criss-crossed the globe. They rate mentions.) I knew my idea of shopping: targeted, quick, in-and-out, and I knew I could do all that in time for tea a nice juice smoothie.
I checked my map of the fine old city: Oxford St was on my way to Regent’s Park and Lord’s. Oxford St, London. Doesn’t sound like a bad place to look, eh.
I got off at Bond St station (I wonder if I shouldn’t have commenced a Monopoly tour right there; Bond St, Oxford St, Regent St, Marylebone Station, and Mayfair all within a reasonable walk.) and was pleased to find the street packed with much talent. It appears I was far from the only one to have the idea.
And that’s where things went pear-shaped. I wandered down the street, a veritable country rube gawking at the palaces to consumerism that line the street. I hadn’t been down here while the shops were open.
Three and a half hours later I found myself in Hyde Park, shopping bags in hand. I had:
Which makes for a total of £59, or $150. Worth of clothes. Of which I only wanted the $15 jeans. I had also seriously considered:
… only putting them down at the last minute. Which would have put me way out.
I fear, dear internet, that I may be becoming, dare I say it, consumerist. Help me!
(Oh, and I never made it to Lord’s or Regent’s Park)
I wonder what I used to write here that kept me coming back.
On hiatus of a sort while I find what went missing. Oh and that new design too.
=(
Call +447804952218 and bother whoever finds it! There’s money in it for whoever finds it (and you too!). Someone send an SMS saying these details for me? My work number is +442075472187, let them know there’s cash for handing it in.
(it’s not so much the numbers or anything, I have them backed up on my laptop, it’s more the 1gb memory stick with music, not to mention the hassle of finding a new phone -_-)
hahah… err…
So it turns out it just dropped out of my bag this morning and slipped under the kitchen table, and I didn’t hear it because I already had my iPod in. ^_^;;
D’oh.
A sign that the area you’ve just moved into is kinda alright: A brand-spanking new black-as-the-night Lamborghini coupe parked outside the local cinema.
I mean, daaaaamn!
Fun. =D
Hard work, surprisingly. =/
Petrol fumes. =S
No bananas or boost pads =(
Went from 17th to 9th! ^_^
It’s not even worth joking about any more
I’m finally settled in and feeling like this is “home” for me, in one sense at least. And then…
And then I think, crap, only, what, 5 months to go? And I’m back to Sydney. I’m getting the moving cycles shorter and shorter, which is one thing moving (back) to Sydney was supposed to reverse.
I guess it matters less and less these days, in the context of near-instant communications and the whole e-World that makes the distance near meaningless, or at the very least lets you redefine it to your own needs. I’m at least as up to speed with Australia’s news as I am with England’s, but despite being that much closer to Europe I’m still by and large clueless as to what is happening some 300 – 400 km away on the continent (distances on Australia’s scale are near-meaningless here).
What makes it even more interesting is the people I’m sharing my flat with. One is a Japanese guy, Hiro, studying Moving Image Design. How cool does that sound? I have to make sure I get some lessons or something before I leave. Another guy is Korean, Shin, studying along with Hiro. And finally we have Eun-mi, a Korean girl, who is a hairdresser. Who studied Civil Engineering (Yeah, go figure).
What makes things a little more interesting is that both of the Koreans have Japanese partners (in place of a generic term for boyfriend/girlfriend), and as such everyone in the house has a little Japanese skill at least =) While our language is by default English, occasionally we’ll dip into Japanese. I’m finding it tough to recall those Japanese skills that I did have at one point – the value of practise is not to be underestimated.
We’re a generally smoothly functioning unit. Hiro is the “manager”, taking care of rent, bills, etc. Eun-mi moved in last week and suddenly the house in two days was completely revamped, shiny and new (which is not to say it is new; quite old and creaky in fact). Shin and Hiro between them keep the fridge stocked and the cooking going. And I… well, I’m the regular-job guy =)
There’s things around the house that need fixing, but it’s a decent little place. The location is superb for convenience – about 5 min walk to a 24 hour supermarket (except on Sundays when it’s 11 – 5…), 5 min to cinemas/entertainment complex type thing, 10 min to the station, and not to mention we’re in the old docklands area so there’s heaps of little water courses & artificial lakes from that time, which is really nice to have a stroll around. A 10 minute train ride would make it the perfect spot for commuting if the station on both ends wasn’t 10 min away from the respective destinations, and the fact that it is afterall the Tube and thus hellish in summer. Or winter.
And that for now, is life here in London.
Sniffing a onion to tell if it’s bad? Not a good idea.
I don’t think I’ve ever understood this term quite as well as I do now. I’ve picked up the work from one of the guys in the team who is off on holidays, and along with the new-found responsibility that I’ve been given myself (I have to find solutions!) I’m suddenly finding myself with too many meetings and not enough time at all.
Never was the lesson that you have to have a concise message more clear than it is now…