How to... feel loved

30 and... from Rowen Wagner on Vimeo.

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.

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.

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!!!

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!

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.

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.

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.

My life

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

Getting ready for winter

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

English heat wave

Sigh.

The new man in my life

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

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.

 http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-kent-14926770

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.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-13468789

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

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...

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).

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

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...