Trip Start May 27, 2010
Trip End Aug 31, 2011

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Flag of United Kingdom  , England,
Monday, October 11, 2010

So I moved into my new room on Monday.  It's been an interesting time getting used to all the new noises in the room, hearing people upstairs walking around, people walking up and down the stairs, cars cruising down the wet roads outside, robbers crushing the weeds in the front garden to peer through my window.  Haha not really.  I'm happy with my new room and the space that I have to call my own.  It was fun to decorate too, and even though I was in a beerfest stupor when I moved in, I was on a roll and unpacked everything before I passed out.  As expected, I was buggared by the end of the week from tossing and turning and pricking my ears up at every little sound during the night. There are things I don't miss about having a bedroom upstairs, but I do miss the sleep I've lost!  I put the finishing touches on my new room over the weekend when my online order arrived on Saturday.  Online shopping is the way forward, it really is. 

In light of the previous few weeks and my end-of-the-week fatigue, I thought it a good idea to try and have a quiet weekend to catch up on some chores and just relax.  I made the most of our free calls to Australia and gave my Grandma a bell after hearing that she was missing me and had wanted to talk to me.  My former roommate, Gemma, endured a two hour hell-ride on the buses to make her way over on Friday night for pizza, and we discussed the finer points of feeding an old lady pre-packaged mush, throwing out tins of food well past their use-by date, and getting used to bathing as opposed to showering.  I had two litres of Magners - not bad for a quiet night in.

I spent a couple of hours on the phone to Brooke chatting about all things wedding related.  Thinking about home and talking about my trip back to Oz for Brooke and Clint's wedding in May has made me feel a bit homesick this week though.  I had a couple of tears on my walk to the bus on Wednesday morning after I'd called home and told Mum that I missed everyone back home.  It's really the first time I have felt emotional about home like that since I've been here.  See, it's all well and good to be partying and having a good time here, but sometimes when you stop still you realise the things you take for granted and the people you miss when they're either gone or out of reach.  I'm really excited about heading home next year, even if it will only be for a couple of weeks. 

My orchid failed me this week, when the last two surviving flowers fell to the ground and added to my sadness.  Well, that's not entirely true.  It has grown a new leaf in the last couple of weeks so that's nice, but it's looking very bare and ugly now that it's missing all it's pretty little flowers.  It's always the way though isn't it, the prettiest flowers often stem from the ugliest plants.  Like when ugly people spawn good looking children.  All I can say for the old orchid is that it better grow some more flowers pronto otherwise it'll be taking a swim up the Thames. 

Not only has my orchid failed me, but it has become apparent that my memory is failing me as well.  I learnt this week that I took a plunge into a pile of garbage bags a few weeks back on a night out in Camden.  Photo evidence surfaced shortly after I was informed of this tumble, at which I cackled for an entire afternoon.  I say "informed" as opposed to "reminded" because I have no recollection whatsoever of this happening, so it wouldn't be possible for me to be reminded.  I'm slightly concerned: if my memory is this bad now, how much of it will be missing by the time I'm 80! 

Bobby's memory obviously serves him very well though.  Too well in fact.  I went into the chicken shop a couple of weeks ago and Bobby the Arab chicken chef told me that it had been 6 weeks since I was there last.  Well, that's good for my waistline I guess, but obviously not good for him because he confessed that he'd missed me and thought I'd moved back "downunder".  Concerned that he remembered the exact date of my last visit, I wondered whether I should sneak behind the counter and see whether he'd been glumly marking the days off on his tear-stained calendar, but then I realised that I must have made an imprint on his memory when I wandered down to his Chicken Hot Spot franchise one night 6 weeks ago, banging on the door, demanding that he come down and make us chips at 1am.  The store closes at 11pm.  He was in bed in his apartment above the shop, and was given a message by the 24hr hotel bellboy downstairs that I was requesting chips in my best whiny "please pretty please with cherries on top" Australian accent, nursing a bruised knee and cradling a broken iPhone after a previous fall at home.  I didn't get the chips - all I got was a reason to avoid the chicken shop for 6 weeks until I'd recovered from the embarrassment of the mid-night drunken chip run.  God help me. 

On Sunday I was joined by Nat and Mike for an afternoon of dumpling sampling and a few drinks which, as per usual, left me with a slight headache and bellyache from eating too many dumplings in one weekend. 

Now that my blog has a loyal following of friends and family, I would like to ask your opinions on something that deeply concerned me during the week, something that will without doubt change the tone of this instalment!  Perhaps it was a result of the sleep I missed as I settled into my new room, or it may have had something to do with the few wines I had before I went to bed, but I had the strangest and most disturbing dream on Tuesday night that I have had in a long time.  And trust me, I've had some doozies - Mum and Geoff can certainly attest to that! 

So in the dream I was with my sister, on a school (or like) camp gathering.  It seemed an odd group of people but the only person I could place was Jacci.  She came to me at one point and said "God is coming for you", and people were excited, like it was something I should really be looking forward to.  Then there was a massive flash of light and it seemed as though that was it, it was going to be all over for me and I was going to be whisked away to heaven for eternity.  In the dream I remember being a bit torn though: I wanted to stay on earth living the life I knew, but my curious side wanted to meet God and know what it was like up there in heaven.  The flash of light disappeared and I was still alive on earth, still surrounded by the strange group of people.  And then I woke up.  I'm fairly sure it doesn't mean I'm going to die anytime soon, but I just cant seem to shift the dream from my mind. 

Possible theories:  Maybe my life is so good at the moment that I feel like I'm in heaven already and want it to last forever.  Maybe God was coming to take away my liver so that it would have eternal life in liver heaven and escape the thrashing it's getting here on earth.  Maybe it just means that I need to stop drinking wine before bed.  I prefer my first theory. 

But if anyone has any other thoughts as to what it might mean or has their dream books handy, please feel free to give me your comments and suggestions! 

So that's a pretty depressing way to end this chapter, right?

How about this:  

A Welshman, an englishman and an Irishman were being chased by a farmer with a gun.  After 10 minutes of running, they spotted an old barn and they all ran inside.  Once inside, they each hid inside a sack against the barn wall.  The farmer went into the barn but didn't see where they went.  He was about to turn back when he noticed the three suspicious looking sacks. 

He walked forward and prodded the first sack with his gun.

The Englishman inside said "meow, meow, meow".  "Hmmm, just cats" thought the farmer.

He then prodded the second sack. 

The Welshman, hearing how the Englishman got off, said "woof, woof, woof".  "Just dogs" thought the farmer. 

As he walked towards the third sack the Irishman worked out what he was going to say.

As soon as the farmer prodded his sack he said "potatoes, potatoes, potatoes". 

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