Homeward Bound.

Somehow, and I'm still not entirely sure how it all happened so fast, it has turned into the end of January - and a lot has gone on in 2009 so far. There have been a few drunken nights out, friends coming and going, new faces at work, celebrations, butterflies, confusion and moments of pure, unadulterated rage and stomping, but hey, one month down, eleven to go. This year will be a doozy.

I'm flying home tomorrow morning, thus beginning the 8-12 week snoozefest that is submitting and processing my new working Visa to come back to London again. I do hope there won't be nail biting involved, because I've been growing them for the past four weeks and they're looking pretty damn good right now. It'll be great to get home, see family and friends, soak up some sunshine (though not too much - ick), play with the puppies and maybe lose a couple of kilo's in the process, but the VISA issue will be weighing on my mind the whole time. I'm so nervous, but there's nothing I can do about that.

I'm officially unemployed, as I finished up at work yesterday - going out fairly spectacularly with a cider & shot filled evening at a local establishment, it's traditional after all. The guys at work spoiled me with a cute pack of champagne and truffles, and my 'temporary' replacement is a real sweetie who I absolutely adore. (I'm secretly sad that I'm going just as she is starting, she is just that good.)

The evening was a success, despite the dodgy dancing and sweaty, sweaty hair - although as usual, I tend to talk too much when I have er, indulged. Operation Wimp = failure. Dismal, dismal failure. Details? Nope! I would rather not.

So for now, I'm farewelling my boys and leaving them to their own devices - no doubt I'll come back and the two will be inseperable. I feel like I've hardly seen J in the past year, despite us finally living together and sorting our stuff up, with my holiday, his Visa, and his working outside of London, it's been a strange one. And Oscar.. I'm going to miss that cat like crazy. I'm going to miss my work colleagues like crazy. I can't wait to get back to London, and I haven't even left yet.

I'll update again soon, from the land down under. Happy (almost) Australia Day!

However Far Away, I Will Always Love You.

A lazy post methinks.. because snippets are all I have energy for.




  • Audiobooks have made this weekend full of sickness and crankiness worthwhile. I've finished 'Interview with the Vampire' and it's made me want to go and hunt down the Diana Gabaldon books now, as I never ended up finding them anyway.

  • I can't dance. Or at least, I definitely wasn't drunk enough to be dancing on Friday evening. Note to self - a few more beverages, or a little less dancing.

  • Banks are evil.

  • The Cure & Kate Bush are all I've listened to for the past few weeks. My new iPod is apparently re-living the 80's. Can't say I'm not enjoying it, though.

  • I'm a Wimpy McWimpyson, but I won't go into details ...

  • Two weeks. (!)

  • I've created my own drinking game, everytime someone mentions either 'VISA' or 'EXCITED'. I do not wish to talk about either.

  • And now, a random image to distract you from my lameness.


It's Only Fitting.

It would only be appropriate to start off my blogging for 2009 with a whinging post, don't you think? It's been a fair while since I sat down and banged out a rant which is a shame, as they usually make me laugh reading back on them at a later date.

(For those who've been around for a while, think back to the wedding-song-stealing post or the slow-walking-newspaper-man post. Good times.)

I've lived in our flat ever since I moved to London - so over 12 months now. It's absolutely become home, despite the ever unreliable transport links and the fact that I live in the complete opposite direction of every single one of my friends over here and I've never had cause to complain about it. (Much.) We live in a complex with about forty other flats, and it's split up really well into little compartments for a little extra privacy. In the ground floor corridor where we are, there are only two other apartments.

In the entire time I've been here, I've seen the first flat's occupants a grand total of once. The lady is either hardly ever home, or just really, really quiet. It's the perfect neighbour! The other flat used to be rented out by a young Chinese couple who lived with their mother - they also kept to themselves, but were friendly enough when we saw them. Sadly, they moved out a couple of months ago, and we've had an empty room across from us since then.

Until recently ...

Yes, I have a neighbour rant.

One night last weekend, there was a knock on the door in the late evening. Being in my pyjamas, like any respectable holiday-maker would be, I forced J to get it. It was a couple of young guys, saying hello and that they had moved in across the hallway. They had a couple of internet set-up questions, so J helped out as much as he could and welcomed them to the building. Half an hour later they were back, asking for the address that they lived in. (Do you not have tenancy papers? How did you find the place the first time?) This first night, there were two guys and a girl that had moved in.

Fast forward to the next day, when I headed out to go shopping in the morning. There was a sickly cigarette smell in the hallway, so strong that my coat picked up the scent after walking through it for all of five seconds. It was gone once I got to the main foyer of the building, and was only in our hallway. I forced J to go outside and sniff the air too, just to prove it wasn't me going mad - so looks like our new inhabitants are breaking the 'No smoking indoors' rule. Needless to say, I am not impressed.

They're really, really noisy. It doesn't help that when they're home, they leave their flat door propped open - why do you think that is? - but even on the odd occasion that it's closed, I can still hear them. Through two huge wooden doors. Three, if I close the bedroom door too. That's a lot of wood, right there.

They also appear to be multiplying in numbers. As I speak, there are about five guys hanging around & I saw two girls moving bags in this afternoon. The flat itself is either a one-bedroom one like mine, or it's a two-bedroom at most, but regardless, that's a lot of people. I'm puzzled.

The last straw for me was on Sunday in the wee hours of the morning, when I was awoken at 3:30 in the morning by dance music & shouting voices. I got up to see what was going on, and sure enough, there were at least ten people having a jolly old time right outside our flat. J actually opened the door and had a bit of a go at them, but I feel like this is only the beginning.

(If I'm woken up again or if the cigarette smell gets worse, I'm going to become that very grouchy old cat lady who lodges formal complaints.)

My parting words to them, should they ever randomly stumble across this blog and put two and two together? You have a perfectly good apartment right there, so get out of the fucking hallway and close your fucking door!

I feel much better now.

Please tell me I'm not the only one with horrible neighbours - what sort of stunts have you had to put up with, and how did you deal with it?





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