A test of patience

Having spent the last seven weeks in the glorious Australian summer, it’s just so easy to fall back in love with all the aspects of the country that I missed when I was in London.  Being so close to friends and family is wonderful, as well as enjoying endless weeks of sunshine, the laid back culture, the fantastic fresh food and wine, and did I mention the weather??

While I’ve been impatiently waiting for the British Consulate to check a few boxes and hopefully approve my visa, I’ve been considering the possibility of having my visa rejected yet again, and formulating an alternative plan.  Needless to say, if my visa gets rejected again, I will find it incredibly hard to justify throwing more money on top of the almost $2000 that I’ve already spent on visas.

Brainstorming an alternative plan has actually been really quite stimulating, and to be honest, it is so exciting that I’m beginning to become a little indifferent as to whether I head back to the UK or not!  I would buy a round-the-world ticket, backpack for up to 6 months in the cheaper parts of the world (Asia, Central America, South America) via London, to pack up all my stuff and ship it home.  No doubt I would then be nearing my 30th birthday, which I would love to celebrate by doing something completely crazy, or just being in a really special place like Mount Kilimanjaro or Iguazu Falls.  Then I could return to Sydney and look to kick off my business idea, return to taekwondo training and also possibly start my own class.

Now you see why I would be excited right??

Having said all that though, I really am looking forward to returning to London.  I miss the big city life, London’s melting pot of culture, the European travel, and just wanting to live out my dream of living abroad for an extended period of time.  I know that if I didn’t make it back to London then it would be something that I’d always regret.

Still, it does rile me that some unskilled worker from Poland can so easily enter and work in the UK, whereas I’m highly qualified and experienced and will no doubt be paying a lot more taxes to the British government and therefore contributing more to the culture and society there.  It just doesn’t make sense does it?  But then again, since when was government bureaucracy rational?

These are a few of my favourite things

  • The sound of red wine glugging out of the bottle
  • An aged washed rind cheese
  • Waking up and realising that it’s the weekend
  • Nice, defined shoulders and arms on men
  • Ripe Kensington Pride mangos
  • Watching Scrubs
  • A perfect carved turn on skis
  • Being neutrally buoyant when diving
  • A juicy rib-eye steak done medium rare
  • Perfect kisses

What are some of your favourite things?

The recap

Sheer laziness has prevented me from updating this blog on a more frequent basis, so I shall attempt to summarise the last two months into a list of achievements and non-achievements:

Successes in the last two months

  • Negotiated my first ever payrise after only 4 weeks into a new job
  • Picked up an 8-month old baby of my own volition without heart palpitations
  • Played in my touch football team’s (the Touchy Feelys) only win of the competition so far
  • Reunited with my long lost mate, Al, who I met on exchange in Sacramento
  • Attended Reading Festival for the first time and managed to survive without suffocating in the pit toilets

Failings in the last two months

  • Having my Highly Skilled Migrant visa application and subsequent appeal rejected on the basis of failing the English-speaking requirement
  • Dated several guys, none of whom particularly floated my boat
  • Was completely unable to get into any semblance of routine for taekwondo or salsa dancing.

 

Well, it seems as though the successes outweigh the failures so that’s something to celebrate.

Platonic relationships

I was chatting to a very good mate of mine a few weeks ago on Messenger, who glumly told me that a girl he worked with that he quite fancied (and he thought quite fancied him) turned out to have a boyfriend.  He thought she fancied him because she was always talking to him but apparently “she was just genuinely a nice person”.

Of course I had to just burst out laughing because I thought it was so typical of my friend to be so clueless about women and how they act.  (And if his thinking really is typical of most men, this means that men only really bother talking to someone if they’re actually interested in them.)

My brother has a saying that “friends are just women you haven’t shagged yet”, which shows that my brother sits firmly in the camp of men who can’t have platonic relationships with women!  This contradicts my theory that men who have sisters are actually more likely to have platonic relationships with women since they understand and appreciate women as they are (my friend above comes from a family of four boys!).

I dare say that every woman I know has many male friends for whom she feels no attraction at all, though I would guess that quite a number of men would struggle to say that they had only platonic feelings for their female friends.  I wonder if it’s a biology thing.  Any thoughts?

Life tips

I was forwarded an email today with Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s top ten tips for life.  I haven’t actually read the entire article, but a lot of items on the list rang true with me.  I particularly like number 4 and 7.

Taleb’s top life tips

  1. Scepticism is effortful and costly. It is better to be sceptical about matters of large consequences, and be imperfect, foolish and human in the small and the aesthetic.
  2. Go to parties. You can’t even start to know what you may find on the envelope of serendipity. If you suffer from agoraphobia, send colleagues.
  3. It’s not a good idea to take a forecast from someone wearing a tie. If possible, tease people who take themselves and their knowledge too seriously.
  4. Wear your best for your execution and stand dignified. Your last recourse against randomness is how you act — if you can’t control outcomes, you can control the elegance of your behaviour. You will always have the last word.
  5. Don’t disturb complicated systems that have been around for a very long time. We don’t understand their logic. Don’t pollute the planet. Leave it the way we found it, regardless of scientific ‘evidence’.
  6. Learn to fail with pride — and do so fast and cleanly. Maximise trial and error — by mastering the error part.
  7. Avoid losers. If you hear someone use the words ‘impossible’, ‘never’, ‘too difficult’ too often, drop him or her from your social network. Never take ‘no’ for an answer (conversely, take most ‘yeses’ as ‘most probably’).
  8. Don’t read newspapers for the news (just for the gossip and, of course, profiles of authors). The best filter to know if the news matters is if you hear it in cafes, restaurants… or (again) parties.
  9. Hard work will get you a professorship or a BMW. You need both work and luck for a Booker, a Nobel or a private jet.
  10. Answer e-mails from junior people before more senior ones. Junior people have further to go and tend to remember who slighted them.

Maladjusted people

Earlier this week, my brother and I were questioning whether stupid people actually know that they’re stupid.  Nothing like a deep human psychology discussion over lunch to get the juices flowing, but an incident occurred last night that also made me wonder whether maladjusted people know that they’re maladjusted.

I’d had a fantastic night at the theatre (the current production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Shakespeare’s Globe is highly recommended!), having laughed so hard that I thought I was going to keel over from the lack of oxygen going to my brain.  I arrived home at about 11:30pm to see my male flat mate and his best mate from Texas watching a movie.  The Texan has been staying with us for the last week, crashing on the couch.

I am fixing myself a snack in the adjoining kitchen, and I can hear my flat mate mumbling obscenities under his breath.  That’s not unusual in itself, since he often likes to swear at the television, but then quite suddenly, the Texan gets up and storms out of the apartment.  This prompts my flat mate to yell and slur obscenities at him just as the door slams.

I walk out into the living room and sit on the couch whilst my bagel is toasting, and my flat mate is being overly chatty to me.  Feeling slightly weirded out, I launch myself back into the kitchen, just as I hear my flat mate exclaim, “Fuck, blood is dripping everywhere”! I decided to ignore his outburst, since I’ve figured out that he’s generally an attention-seeking person, but then he comes into the kitchen and looks at me in an eyes-half-glazed look.

Venturing cautiously, I ask him what is wrong and he tells me that his “fucking friend is what’s wrong”. Hmmm.  He continues slurring, “But I don’t care, because pain doesn’t worry me – you want to see what I think of pain?” before he grabs the kitchen scissors, opens them up menacingly, and then gouges the blade down his forearm, which is already fresh with cuts. I can’t help but look away.  I’m not sure whether it’s a reaction to my cringing, but he laughs and says, “Don’t worry though, I’ve run out of knives”, gesturing to the empty knife block.

Needless to say, I beat a hasty retreat back to my room, all the while wondering whether my taekwondo skills to date would be enough to take him on if he threatened me (I thought so).

I could put this down one of those random incidences of flat sharing, since living with random strangers very rarely turns out perfectly it seems.  But it did make me wonder, when this sort of incident freaks me out, that it probably seems “normal” to some people.  Sure, everyone has their own quirks, but there surely must be some point where you are just no longer “normal” and are clearly maladjusted.

Drugs must play a part in it, making you irrational and delusional – as Ozzy Osbourne managed to prove publicly on The Osbournes.  I’ve only seen my flat mate drink excessively, I’m pretty sure he does do drugs as well.  I must seem so utterly boring and conventional to him, because I would definitely view myself as “normal” and well-adjusted.  I often wonder whether my flat mate thinks that his excessive drinking and drug use, frequent watching of violent films, compulsive gambling, and chain-smoking behaviour is normal.  I would think not, otherwise he wouldn’t be seeing a therapist.

I think that 26 July (the expiry of my lease!) could not come sooner.

The 2-month evaluation

I was having dinner with a few girlfriends a few weeks ago, all of whom have been living in London a fair bit longer than me.  They asked me what my thoughts of London were so far, and I was thinking that it was worth noting down how I feel now and then see how my feelings have changed in a year’s time.  So having been here for a little over two months now, here goes:

Likes

Public transport 

The London Underground, or the tube, is absolutely fantastic.  Sure it’s overcrowded and hot, but it runs frequently (you hardly ever have to wait more than 2-3 minutes for the next train), it’s pretty clean, and those colourful maps and station signage make it dead easy to use.  Buses in central London are cheap, and the Oyster card makes ticketing so simple and straightforward.  Hello Iemma government, take note!

Eating out

There is just such an enormous variety of restaurants and cafes, with cuisines from all over the globe.  Initially I thought that I would have severe pad thai withdrawals, but there are loads of Thai restaurants (albeit not as good as in Sydney) along with Indian, African, Turkish, Chinese, Italian, Korean, Caribbean and more.  There are lots of cheap eats, as well as the Michelin-starred affairs.  The fast food here is also very good, with lots of tasty yet healthy options through places like Eat and Pret a Manger.

Theatre, culture and entertainment

There is certainly no shortage of entertainment in London.  There are more theatres than you can poke a stick at, and you can almost guarantee that every big name play or musical is showing somewhere in town along with loads of smaller productions of upcoming playwrights.  There are also lots of dancing clubs, ranging from big superclubs pumping out house and trance, R&B clubs, and Latin dance.

Proximity to Europe

The ability to be able to make weekend trips to other parts of the UK, Ireland and continental Europe is obviously the big drawcard for lots of Australians, New Zealanders and South Africans.  With the fast Eurostar train and the multitude of budget airlines, you’re paying the same price to fly to Spain as you would from Sydney to Brisbane or Cairns.

Chip and pin cards

I had seen chip cards floating around in Australia but here they are extensively used.  Apparently they came in last year and every debit and credit card has them.  Almost all shops and restaurants have EFTPOS machines where you insert your chipped card into the machine, you enter your PIN, and voila, instant payment without signing slips of paper.  A much more secure method of payment, since noone looks at signatures these days anyway.

Splitting bills

If you’re in a restaurant with 3 other people and noone has cash, you can embarrassingly excuse yourself and duck down to the nearest ATM, or each person can throw down their debit or credit card!  I swear, the waiters won’t even blink an eye!  They bring around a portable EFTPOS machine and then process each person’s card.  Fantastic!! Of course, we have the facilities to do this in Australia and it doesn’t cost the proprietor any more since they’re only paying a fixed percentage of each charge, but if you even suggest separate payments the lazy person behind the counter will attempt to smite you with an evil look and promptly point to a sign that says “Bugger off, no separate bills”.

Dislikes

Coffee

There is no shortage of coffee in this town.  Starbucks, Costa, Caffe Nero – there is usually one *each* of these chain café outlets on every block in the city and one each in every other part of town – and sadly they all serve extremely poor-tasting coffee.  I’ve been to a few smaller coffee outlets and their standard is usually wide of the mark too – either too weak, the milk is lukewarm, or the coffee is burnt.  I guess it’s understandable when no Italian in their right mind would live here when they could live in Italy (or Australia!).

People
I imagine that an aerial view of Central London during the day would look like an ant’s nest that has just been bombarded with rocks and probing sticks.  Particularly along Oxford Street, the city is teeming with people and the overcrowding makes catching public transport and even walking down the street unpleasant.  After one particularly frustrating experience walking along Oxford Street on a Saturday in January (when all the sales are on) where I was constantly having to stop and then weave around slow-walking people, I vowed never to go to Oxford Street on a weekend.  Apparently Christmas time is ten times worse. Ugh.

The free London papers

Every morning and evening, there are people giving away free newspapers to the commuter crowd.  It’s filled with mindnumbing celebrity gossip and quasi-news, and then eventually litters the ground and the trains.  It not only looks messy but I shudder to think of all the energy used to produce this waste (literally, and waste of brain cells) and then the supposed collection and recycling.  Read a book, people!

Smokers

Not only do people here eat badly, not exercise, and spend an inordinate amount of time in the pub drinking themselves stupid, they also love a fag or twenty.  Walking down the street, you’re invariably walking behind a smoker and having to fan their foul smelling toxins away from your face.  At least smoking is banned in all pubs and restaurants here.  I only wish that cigarettes would kill smokers faster.

Cold and grey winters

Enough said.

It’s not so bad being trendy

‘Trendy’ is definitely not a word that one would use to describe me.

I thumb my nose at puffy skirts, oversized sunglasses and lap dogs.  Coloured denim, boho dresses, chunky wedges, and those ridiculous shrunken mini-jackets simply do not feature in my wardrobe.  I think that What’s Hot and What’s Not lists are not a barometer of feminine style, but simply subsidised by the fashion industry to encourage women to spend more money on clothes, shoes and handbags.

I’m not sure what other descriptors are out there to label women besides ‘trendy’, but I’m sure I fall into one of those other categories.  I think that I probably dress in what some would describe as a ‘conservative’ style.  I would prefer to use the word ‘classic’ – as I like to buy things that won’t go out of style in two months – but then this may invoke images of Audrey Hepburn and that simply would be misleading!

In actual fact, I would probably be more accurately described as a ‘comfort dresser’.  I prefer flat shoes to high heels, I’m most comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, and I’d rather spend an extra 20 minutes in bed than doing my hair and putting on my face.  I don’t even mind wearing a suit to work because then you only need to spend two seconds figuring out which shirt or top to wear, rather than having to spend half an hour putting together an entire outfit.

But today, I finally succumbed to one of those fashion trends.  Skinny jeans!  I know that I’m only 12 months behind the crest of the trend, but judging by the number of women still walking around London in skinny jeans and boots it doesn’t seem to be a trend that is going to die too soon.  I, for one, never thought that I would ever buy skinny jeans because I simply don’t have the legs for it.  Skinny jeans only look really good on stick-thin women (note that I said women) with pins like Elle MacPherson, the only caveat being that if you have absolutely no arse then you look like a pre-pubescent boy.

After decades of bootcut jeans however, I am finally willing to show off my ‘womanly’ thighs and arse to the general public.  I’m not certain yet whether I will be able to sit down or bend over, or even whether I will be able to continue my non-salad diet, but at least I’ll take comfort in elevating myself out of the ‘daggy dresser’ category for a little while.

And my arse looks good!

It’s not so bad being trendy

Everyone who looks like me is my friend

Please don’t hate me because I’m trendy

They’re not gonna laugh at me again

- Reel Big Fish

It’s the Year of the Rat

Chinese new year is just not the same without family around. Not only did I miss out on lucrative red packets from my parents and aunts, I didn’t get to partake in the usual extravagant feasting that goes hand in hand with welcoming in a new year.

London’s Chinatown comes alive over the new year period, and red lanterns are everywhere – gorgeous illuminated ones are currently strung up over Oxford Circus. Unfortunately, the massive crowds prevented me and Steve from seeing any of the lion dancers. Every Chinese restaurant in the precinct was also packed out, which killed the idea of a gluttonous Chinese feast, so we went to have Thai instead

Welcome to my new blog

There’s nothing like being on the other side of the world to necessitate more frequent blog updates for family and friends that I miss (and presumably miss me too!).

The previous version of Sheepless was sorely neglected, mostly due to sheer laziness on my part. However, it’s a new year, new city and newly single life, so why not start afresh with a brand new site and renewed enthusiasm!

I always like to hear feedback from my readers out there (even if it’s just my mum) so please leave comments or send me an email so that I know who’s out there.