If you've ever...

Lived in London. Visited London. Travelled the World. Lived in Australia. Visited Australia. Even longed to live in either lands. Fell in love. Nursed a broken heart. Tried to make sense of your 20s. Or if you enjoy an entertaining read, then this content has your name all over it! 

Sunday, May 23, 2010

London is like an ex

So is it wrong that eight months later I can still feel the cold of winter mornings on my cheeks as I would battle the sea of dark coats on the way to work. Still feel the warmth of the heater and oven on a Sunday night when the housemates put on a feast using fresh farmer's veges from the Abbeville Road Market. Still taste the merlot lingering on my lips while the fire warmed my skin during post-work drinks at the Windmill.

But, it's not all romantic thoughts. I can still feel my eyes cast down staring at the endless lumps of blackened gum on the footpaths. I can still feel the unimpressed stares of Tesco employees as they push my humous, yoghurt and white wine through the check outs. And I can still feel the dead silence and stillness of a tube ride. Eyes down. Eye contact kept to a minimum, even if he is good looking. Continue this universal eye-language even when departing the tube, and speed up legs until you crush into the pram (or buggy...) infront, and then curse it. Even though you're not actually running late for anything, the way you're programmed makes you feel like you are anyway.

And this rush, this feeling on of being on the edge, is strangely addictive. It's like you're part of the big mechanics that makes the world go round. London is like that. I'm shamelessly addicted to the place, even though it's been eight months since I called it home. It's like an ex that you try to forget, you know it can be bad for you; it's best to move on. But at the same time flashbacks of the best memories of your life come flooding back, and you just want to see it, taste it, and experience it for all its good and bad just one more time.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The greyness

I do apologise. I've been cheating on this blog with my day job (and subsequently an awesome creative industries blog www.graphicdesignblog.com.au - harmless promotion, why not?!). But really, a whole month and no posts here. My bad. My very, very bad.

And it's not as if I've been lost for words either. Sure the transition is smoother now that a routine has developed, but there's a part of me still stuck over there, and I don't know how to get it back - or perhaps do I just leave it there to grow? On the upside (only when I'm in a missing London mood, of course) Brisbane has been awash with beautiful rain, and our blue skies have turned a shade of grey. It's unfamiliar (and unwelcome) weather to Brisbane, but reminds me of the skylines of London - just minus the glorious terraced houses that line the streets, and the iconic architecture that juts out through the city, like St Pauls or the Gerkin. And it dawns on me... I can't believe I'm actually finding comfort in this dreary weather now!?!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Sweating up a Storm

Three weeks left of the Australian summer ... and my GOD the humidity! I'm sat here, inside, and sweating to the extent of someone half way through a triathlon. Today's post is short because I need to seek relief in a pool or a shopping centre.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010


I've got an over active mind. Actually, understatement. When charged, it's like an over active mind dosed up with speed - which, for the record, my purity cannot vouch if that's in fact an accurate comment.

But, at night, my mind spills dream after dream after dream, where sometimes I wake tired despite an eight hour slumber.

It dawned on me recently, that for the past couple of months I have not been dreaming. I blamed it on my naturopath. I even blamed it on the more chilled pace of life in Brisbane.

But the dreams are back in fine form this week. No crazy nightmares, just those dreams that are a flurry of conversations, friends, situations and non-stop chatter. And I think I know why... my over active mind is going to 'mind gym' each day at my new job, feeding my hungry brain with stimuli plus. And it's glorious. It's almost bedtime, which means, I get to play in dreamland once again.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

I may be cured of my H&A addiction!

Last week welcomed the long-awaited return of Home and Away (ok, I've probably lost 99.9% of readers already) to our Aussie screens. I myself was particularly amped about finding out the truth about Hugo, sussing out if Aiden really does dig Nicole (when he's not in Sydney nightclub bathrooms, allegedly) and the general goss of the Bay. But I've just come to realise that I have come to feel complacent about the Aussie soap... not unlike how one feels in a long-term relationship heading nowhere.

I've had an on-again-off-again relationship with Home and Away ever since Sally was pre-pubescent - circa 1990. This bond between H&A and I grew particularly strong when I was at Uni and again when I moved to London. Sky Plus and the Fiver Omnibus were my saving grace for a three hour H&A marathon every Saturday. Housemates (some forced others willing), cups of tea and Digestives joined the couches to rest off the mandatory hangover and teleport us directly to sunny, beautiful Palm Beach, Sydney.

The novelty of hearing Aussie accents for a few hours, cringe at some of Alf's flamin' lingo, and reminisce of sunnier climes was addictive, and gave me that little bit of Aussieness I needed to feel each week whilst living abroad.

Perhaps it's a cure for homesickness? I never copped a day of longing for Oz in England. Perhaps Irene's nasaly voice kept it at bay.

But now I'm left feeling like the love between me and H&A has died a little bit. Maybe it's over...

Now that I'm home, I pray I don't fall for some Brit-TV-trash like Hollyoaks.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Will 'Whinging Pom Eggs' Crack a Smile or a Whinge in the Poms?

Good old Sunny Queen Eggs have now given Poms something else to whinge about ... happy, sunny Aussies taking the piss out of Poms in the form of a grumpy breakfast egg. In Australia we wake up to happy faces stamped on our eggs, adding that extra bit of chipper to our day. Now a Whinging Pom Egg with a suitably grumpy face egg is set to make sure all Poms wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

A marketing strategy that has scored a healthy work out on the Australian PR circuit as well as boosting Sunny the Egg's fanbase on Facebook to about 35,000 - popular little thing isn't he!? - I must admit I do get a giggle from it. But will the Poms get the humour? Take offense? Or jump on board and serve up these pissed off eggs with Hovis fingers to the kids for breakfast?

Monday, January 25, 2010

Lamingtons are at the Ready!

I had never baked a lamington in my life until I moved to London. Australians look at a lamington the same way the English look at a packet of Digestives. And like a Digestive, a cup of tea is the perfect partner for this coconutty-chocolately Aussie creation.

So, it's with some embarrassment that I first donned the apron and met with my inner Nigella at age 25 in my south London house on 26th January - Australia Day. You'd think I'd been whipping up a lamington storm since I was a kid, given how excited I get about them (I too blame my 'child-like Gemini enthusasim' for sheer excitement over banal things like that). But, instead, I'd indulge my penchant for this Aussie icon at lamington drives (bless the grandmas for their baking), which far beats a tray of lamington fingers from Woolies. I think any Aussie would agree with me there.

On the eve of Australia Day 2010, I have sheepishly already devoured two massive Julia-made lamingtons, and I'm proud to report they taste incredible. So instead of feasting on lamingtons for breakfast and hitting the Slug in Fulham or Gigalum in Clapham South to join forces with fellow Aussies in London, tomorrow I shall be embracing our day the authentic way - at the beach, basking in 34 degree heat. A bit different to chanting 'The Voice' while slushing around in ankle-deep snakebite at an Aussie pub in London!

But what I love about Australia Day, is that no matter where you are in the world, there's a part of you that wants to bring out the patriotic side that often lays dormant those other 364-odd days a year. So for the first time in three years, it's back to the beach, Triple J's Hottest 100, the aroma of snags on the barbie wafting through the air and a Toohey's Extra Dry to cool down from the intense summer heat. Happy Australia Day.