Monday, December 19, 2011

How to do winter, part 3

Last week I giggled at the aisles and aisles of "Winter car care" products for sale in my local supermarket.



De-icer, grit, insulating blankets, scrapers... none of these words exist in my vocabulary.

This morning I realised they now do. Thick frost encrusted my car from the door handles up.

And no de-icer or scraper in sight.

A quick trip back to the apartment to have a mini freakout and I emerged armed and ready with... a plastic kitchen spatula.

I'm sure I amused the daylights out of the passing residents watching me shave the ice off my windscreen, sortof like I was cleaning off a barbeque. All without gloves, mind you...

After a full minute of scraping.

Quick! Get in the car and start driving before it just ices over again!
Made a classic rookie mistake by thinking a bit of windscreen wiper and windscreen wiper fluid action once I was in the car would help things along.
Frozen windscreen + frozen windscreen wipers + windscreen wiper fluid = new thick coating of gloopy soapy ice smeared all over the windscreen.

Start over.

Friday, December 16, 2011

How to do winter, part 2

Winter fashion.

Where form meets function. Or some rubbish like that.

Some of my awesome winter purchases:

By far my favourite. Water resistant suede and wool blend snow boots. Complete with Paddington-bear toggle opening at the side, to avoid those awkward try-to-get-your-boots-off-at-someone's-front-door hopping-about-like-an-idiot moments. Verdict's out on whether these are actually properly waterproof, but they're so pretty it doesn't matter. Land's End.






Slightly less glamorous, but oh-so-practical, waterproof snow boots. Complete with fake fur tops to keep the wind out. They make me walk like a gangsta. Word. Debenhams.


  

Thermal socks. I actually have 2 pairs of these, as well as some heat-generating socks. Not sure how they work, but they definitely do keep my toes toasty warm. Marks and Spencers. 





 Ah, the dilemma of keeping one's hands warm and freeing one's fingers for tasks such as driving and nose picking. The solution: hoodie gloves. Too cute for words. Although with the hoodie in situ, my hands are fairly useless for anything except a right hook. Beware: some imitations leave one's thumb without a hood. Poor thumb! John Rocha by Debenhams.



Got a little carried away in the gloves department. Black thermals with fur cuff on the left. Chocolate leather lined with cashmere at the top (these gloves are so divine that I've developed a really embarrassing habit of making a weird motion with my hands that looks a little like I'm practising grabbing someone's boobs, just so that my fingers move about on the inside of the gloves to brush against the cashmere inside. I also have a bad habit of putting my hands to my face to feel and smell the buttery soft leather. Mmmmm). Beige suede on the right. 
But the problem remains. How does one answer an iPhone in a timely fashion, without desperately ripping the gloves off with one's teeth while hunting around for the phone?




 Solution: Smart Touch gloves. These babies, by magic and science, allow the use of a touchscreen through the gloved fingertips (the silver bits). The shiny bits are actually rubber grip. These are only slightly more attractive than my photo suggests. Now, to find these in chocolate leather lined in cashmere...


Cologne Christmas markets. Hoodie gloves in action. Drinking gluwein.

My very first winter purchase was a down-filled jacket from Zara. Again, at first I laughed at the concept. But I wear this jacket nearly every day as a staple wardrobe item. It's light, incredibly warm, and has a silly hood:

Silly hood. Falls too far forward unless you do the jacket all the way up.





Cologne Christmas markets. Earmuff beanie in action. Again, drinking gluwein.



Ah, let's just put up some more Cologne pics. So pretty!


Buttery soft chocolate cashmere lined leather gloves in action. Evidently all the gluwein and stollen has gone straight to my face hence looking like a bloated fatty boom sticks. Didn't have time to send this pic to Rowen for pre-publication weight-loss Photoshopping. Granted I am wearing about 5 layers underneath my jacket.

I do believe I am prepared for winter.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

How to do winter, part 1

TomTom sent me an email today, titled "stay safe on the roads this winter". I clicked on the link in anticipation, having been warned by work friends of the many dangers of driving in the snow.
I was looking forward to an informative video of how to winter-proof my car; what to do if I encounter black ice, and all other manner of helpful hints and tips.

I got this...


Thursday, December 1, 2011

Puddings from Yorkshire

There are foods in every country and culture that may seem strange to a foreigner. I had just begun to get used to the idea of pudding meaning dessert, when I came across a Yorkshire pudding.



This strange creation is another example of how the English try to fit as many carbs into each meal as is humanly possible.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Sun roof?

My car comes with a sun roof. Given the English climate, I feel this modification is just a tad optimistic.




Monday, November 21, 2011

How to... feel loved


This is what I woke up to on my 30th birthday. The love of friends and family around the globe, combined with my brother's creative genius (and obsessive perfectionism), delivered right to my laptop screen. Best birthday present ever.
Yes, I cried like a baby.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Why I don't like Jane



Feeling slightly guilty that I live in the world of Jane Austen, gallivanting round the same countryside where many of her books are set, and have absolutely no appreciation for it at all.

For years I've been an avid resistor of all things Austen. Many a friend will testify my enthusiasm for a Jane Austen marathon, as it means I can take a six hour nap on Naomi's leather lounge. I'd rather be dreaming about Vin Diesel than Mark Darcy.
Although the sprawling mansions, gorgeous countryside and decadent lifestyles are intriguing and impressive, I've never wished to be a part of it all. The big flouncy dresses don't impress me, not to mention the flouncier men who wouldn't know what to do with a wrench if you smacked them with one. 

The reason is simple: back in those days (whenever it actually was), people of my race and colour were relegated to the kitchens, boiler rooms, and gardens. Come to think of it, I've not even seen anyone with a hint of a tan in any Austen movie, although I do admit I am usually checking my eyelids for holes whilst watching.

Even though I identify myself as a proudly born and bred Aussie, one look at me and it's clear- a fair maiden I am not.

Jealous, you say? Maybe. I think it's more being reasonable and knowing my historical position in society. Either way, I prove a challenge to many friends in their attempts to engage me in the world of Jane Austen. Show me a brown skinned heroine and I may be more interested.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Royal Mail



I'm in the process of reducing my monthly rent to half (YAY!) by giving up my Brighton apartment, and I have set up mail redirection for ease of being able to track down my gifts, monetary donations, diamond earrings, Offspring DVDs, etc.

The only problem is the post office has informed me that if my name varies at all from the name I put on their form, my mail won't be forwarded.

So unfortunately, my British title of Her Royal Highness, Princess of East Sussex, should no longer be used to address my mail. Feel free to continue addressing me as such in person and on the inside of various correspondence, but the mail address on envelopes and large packages (hehe, hint hint) should revert to my Australian name. You are also discouraged from using my alter egos Wags, Waggaz, Twagner (Matt and Kathleen), Brown Bear (Megs), Chocolate Bear / Super Chocolate Bear (Claire N), and Liiiiiiinnnnzzzeeeeee (Jai).
Fingers crossed for Royal Mail, who have lost things in the past, or on the other hand, have delivered mail across the continent overnight.

Sorry to spoil the fun. But I want my birthday and Christmas cards!!!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Things I miss

Stuff you can't get here...

It's been six months since I've had a coffee I could finish in this country. Sigh.




Trackies, socks, undies, hoodies. Nothing compares to Bonds. I really like their roll down yoga trackies in navy blue size 12. Just in case you wanted to know.




UK Cadbury chocolate tastes sugary, grainy, and like you've left it in the car over Summer. I occasionally shell out the extra cash to buy the aussie stuff, but to be honest there are plenty of quality UK chocolate substitutes so I shouldn't whinge :)




Yet to see these in the supermarket. Without rice crackers, I'm forced to eat crisps in copious amounts.




Despite there being a choice of about seventy bazillion types of cleanser in Boots, they don't stock this one, which is the only thing that takes off my waterproof eyeliner in a cleanser.



So these are the only everyday items I really do miss. Was thinking it would be a lot longer.

Shall also post about the awesome new grocery discoveries that help me to forget what I miss. Riveting stuff!

Monday, October 31, 2011

Unlicenced

So I've not been here six months before receiving a court summons. Yep. What heinous crime have I committed, you ask?



I've been suspected of owning a TV.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

How to... Speak English

I've been completely lost in translation a number of times at work. Here are a few examples:

word: pants.
Example:
Another therapist: "ooh, I like your skirt."
me: "pff, the only reason I'm wearing a skirt today is because I only brought one pair of pants with me from Brighton for work. Yesterday they got barium on them. So I can't wear my pants today. In fact, I can't wear pants til next week as our washing machine is broken."
Therapist: googly eyed, red faced, makes excuse to leave room.
English translation: pants = underwear.

word: lolly.
Example:
me: "Ethel (no, not violating privacy, all little old ladies are called Ethel in my blog), I need to see you chewing something. Can I get you a lolly to chew?"
Ethel: "oh no, love. Why would I want a lolly? My teeth get all shivery when I eat lollies."
me, to nurse: "Ethel's not all there, is she? She's whingeing about lollies making her teeth cold."
Nurse: "lollies make me cold too. It's not the season for lollies."
me: (to self): weirdo. Why does there need to be a lolly season?
English translation: lolly = iceblock.

word: pop.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Driving in Kent


Observations while on my many dates with Ken, who I've discovered has very little to say unless we're driving somewhere. Not sure if this relationship is going anywhere...
This is one of the 'main roads' on my way to work.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

My life

Click here to find out why I'm so tired... (click the words, not the picture sorry!)

Friday, September 30, 2011

Getting ready for winter

The sad realisation that from now on, my definition of heat wave will need to change.

English heat wave

Sigh.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

The new man in my life

Here it is: the story you've all been waiting for. A new relationship (finally!)...

Monday, September 19, 2011

Late to work

2 reasons I was late to work this week:

First day, they closed the road to a truck spillage. A truck spilled its load of... syrup. So some poor sod had to sweep up a truck load of syrup.


Second day: a stubborn cow (no, not an enemy of mine, a real bovine) standing on a single lane highway in Canterbury forced the traffic to be diverted another way as it couldn’t be coaxed off the road.




Ok, so neither of those things caused me to be late, but I honestly did hear about them on the radio.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Happy Stalling


I own a car! Well, I hired one. My job requires that I visit people in their homes, so I was introduced to my little Fiat 500 on Tuesday. Off-white, 2 doors (so that if I have an accident, I’m properly squished and more likely to die than be permanently disabled), and manual. A few issues...

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Protected Mealtimes

One of the highest priorities of the NHS is to ensure patient nutrition is optimised. Given that in most hospitals, nursing staff (not kitchen staff) are responsible for the serving, delivery, and feeding of patients, some genius implemented a 'Protected Mealtimes" policy. This means, that under NO circumstances whatsoever, are patients to be disturbed at their dinner (aka lunch). Nurses feeding patients are also not allowed to be disturbed under any circumstances whatsoever (cardiac arrest? Sorry, I'm feeding Ethel).



Sunday, September 4, 2011

Morning Tea


The English don’t have morning tea. At work, I asked my boss if we had a break for morning tea, and she looked at me strangely. “I’m not quite sure what you mean,” was the response.
Cream Tea at Rottingdean, near Brighton

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Today was a statue day

This was the source of the crash I heard from the bathroom earlier this evening.
My bathroom shelf is above the toilet. My toiletries bag was open.
Some days you're the pigeon, some days you're the statue...

Saturday, August 27, 2011

3 funny conversations

3 actual conversations all had in the same 24 hour period.

Conversation 1:
LW: Nurse, could you please help me lift a patient up the bed?
Nurse: Oh hang on a minute, I just have to measure Mr X's rig.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Patriotic

A bit of Australia in my bathroom (and my hair).
It would be un-Australian to disagree with the Aussie philosophy.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Sigh...


Winter in Sydney, Summer in Kent.


Wednesday, August 10, 2011

BSOD

Not even airport computers escape the BSOD.

Sensor lights

I am really impressed by Europe's energy saving efforts. Most restaurants, hotels and public bathrooms have sensor lights.
One problem...

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Pets on holidays

In England, people take their pets everywhere. I first noticed it on public transport, and as I type right now I'm sharing my train foot space with a particularly odiforous canine. Gross.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Languages

Being monolingual is like having a disability. I find myself apologising for not being able to express myself in any other language, as shop keepers and strangers look impatiently at me while I struggle with Charade-like gestures (first word, sounds like...).

Cathedral Bells


There’s something reassuring about a city with an hourly tolling cathedral bell.
Sagrada Familia Cathedral; Barcelona, Spain
Never mind your electronic devices, alarms and reminders; a tolling bell is the city’s authority as it chimes unmistakably through the streets. It’s the wordless consensus that everyone in the city is on the same page, and has been for centuries.

Losing things on holidays

There's something profoundly upsetting about losing things on holidays. Realising you left something in a hotel room hundreds of kilometres later feels more depressing than not knowing where you left it. All hope of getting it back is gone.

Monday, July 25, 2011

For adults only?

No, this is a normal regular grocery store.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

How to drive in Europe


1.     Pray. If you don’t have any religious affiliation, develop one (preferably the God who saves). There ain’t nothing gonna save you but a higher power on the streets of Europe.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Planes vs Trains


Monday, June 27, 2011

Food for Friends

In my first month in the UK I spent a lot of time dining alone. One particularly lonely April day in Brighton, I found myself tempted by the dessert section of a nice-looking café menu in the street. Excited by the prospect of a hearty meal followed by a decadent dessert, I accepted a seat in the apex of the restaurant for optimal people watching.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Department Store Cafes


Every major department store I’ve been to has a café, serving a full range of meals and snacks while the store is open. And from my research, they’re all pretty decent. Some even serve the food they sell in their food halls. So there’s absolutely no reason to have to stop shopping just because you’re hungry or tired. A quick trip to the café will get you back on your feet.
I’m convincing myself that a mandatory café visit will help me make wiser shopping decisions, but really, all it’s done is made me be impulsive in the café as well as the shopping aisles, and filled out my jeans. Which just makes me need to do more shopping... :)

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Pippa

anHaThenTh I’m all for hand hygiene. Hand washing, gloves, gels and foams... they’re all second nature at work. I love making sure I’m vigilant in this area. But then I met Pippa.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Keyboards

One of the most regularly used keys is in the wrong place on UK keyboards. Can you see it?




 

Monday, June 13, 2011

Big Yellow Ball

Something really weird happened in England today.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Inappropriate referrals

So at most work places there are inappropriate referrals. I asked about this at my new work, and was told we generally see everyone that gets referred, even if it's only once, to acknowledge the referral. Again, as a result, I see about 30% fewer appropriate patients, as I deal with those who are intubated, have a GCS of 9, or who haven't eaten since the late 80's due to their complete aphagia.
I've developed a checklist for nurses and am hoping to approach my manager with it. Wanted to share it before I did.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Washing machines

In the UK, the washing machine goes in the kitchen. Who needs a laundry anyway?
Unfortunately there has been a direct flow-on effect into my washing up technique. I now do my dishes in 2 loads - white crockery first, then coloureds separately. No-one wants pink plates.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Lamenting abbreviations

One of the joys of medical documentation is being able to abbreviate nearly every word you write. It's a skill developed early and then completely forgotten as it becomes so automatic.

On my first day at my new work, I was told that in our own speechie department notes, we are not allowed to use any abbreviations. None.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

How to get help with your luggage

Working 5 hours away from home means having to lug a lot of luggage on and off the public transport system twice a week (hm, maybe that's why they call it luggage...). At times, I have my huge suitcase, another wheelie suitcase, a backpack, snacks, and my handbag. Not an easy job getting all that up 2 flights of stairs at Victoria station.
Here are my slightly devious suggestions for gettting help from stronger members of the community. Just remember to look ever-so-surprised when they work!

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

My first day at work

Day one.
As an aside, my first day of work was May 18th, exactly one month after I flew out. (Also, 1 and 8 are some of my favourite numbers. OCD much?)

I couldn't focus on anything my new manager was telling me, after I noticed these filing cabinet labels in my office.
Welcome to your new hospital!


Tuesday, May 24, 2011

How to make friends 101

Coming to a new town purely to work, not knowing anyone else, has been a learning experience. How do you make new friends with the people you live with in shared accommodation in an unfamiliar city? Start by learning their names.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Workmate

I have spent 5 days trying to figure out the girl I work with. We are similar ages. We both come from Australia. We are both locuming in an unfamiliar place, in a foreign country, having to work side by side sharing the workload.

How to work out your address (but not how to make friends)

The UK postcode system is truly amazing. Its a complicated arrangement of numbers and letters, such that when you tell someone what it is (like the pizza delivery man or the bank teller), they type it into their little computer, and it can work out exactly what street and suburb you live in. The only other information they need is your house number. Pretty nifty.

This is fantastic in theory. But moving to hospital accommodation, without a tenancy agreement or any sort of documentation, means I had no idea of my address.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

How to dine alone

My top tips for the dreaded lone restaurant visit.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

How to go to the theatre alone

This one's a bit trickier than dining alone. But it can be done!

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Are you alright?

The first WISW (while it's still weird) thing I noticed since arriving in the UK is how people greet each other. Even now, 6 weeks later (as I blog in retrospect), it still takes me off guard everytime someone greets me. Unfortunately the way this happens cannot be communicated accurately enough via a blog posting, so I'll give you a scenario to increase the impact of the weirdness.

Monday, April 25, 2011

My new mobile number

Numbers are important to me. Ever since I remember, 4 has been my favourite number. There's something comforting about its even-ness and the way it reminds me of a square (all sides and angles equal). Anything to do with a 4 is good. 2's, 8's, 1's and 9's are also preferable (this has to do with my birth date, month, and year). I sometimes like or dislike things partly because of their number, like my work pager and house numbers.

Yes, I know it's weird.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Oyster card


How cool is my Oyster card!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Take off

Taken from the journal I intended to update daily, then abandoned 2 weeks later...

I've just realised the enormity of what I decided to do. Squashed my life into 33.7kg, reorganised it into 31.9kg in front of hundreds of people at the airport, and off I went. Well, off I went after a flood of tears.

I was THAT person at the airport, the one with the open suitcase, bras and undies flying everywhere as they try to lighten their bag to the satisfaction of the tired but firm check-in girl.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Work farewell

The girls at work made my last day quite memorable. What else could I expect, being April Fools Day?