GRIM...
Evicted from 18 Lochaline Street, St Kilda out of the finals, Stuart's bike stolen outside the 'Spicy Fong', Saturday night live from a toilet bowl and adjusting to my new life on a couch. Its been a lovely week...
Friday, as I'm sure you're all aware, was a dark day in the history of the St. Kilda football club (I'm sure Tim Pekin would never think the Saints making the preliminary final is a dark day). As far as I could tell sitting in my office in EC3, listening to it on TripleM, it sounded as though it was just an extremely soft effort in the last quarter. No excuses. Dad was devastated. Apparently he didn't talk for 2 days afterwards... At least I haven't missed anything (like our first flag in 40 years and second ever), but now its going to be hard to find the motivation to get up at 4.30am to watch Sydney v West Coast. Then on Friday evening Saffa housemate Stu had his bike stolen while ordering chinese take-away. Grim at the best of times but he'd just spent over £300 and many hours in preparation for an Oxford-Cambridge charity cycle.
Saturday was our last day in the house and was spent wiping, scrubbing, vacuuming, polishing, etc, etc. This continued for the better part of 8 hours and when we were done - the house still looked like a complete dump. I loved living at 18 Lochaline - it was close to all manner of transport, takeaway and pubs - but general house cleanliness was not its strong point. Having been an antipodean share-house for an estimated 10 years, there was grime and mould everywhere. It was completely uncleanable. And after a day's hard work the only things that were really noticably cleaner were the carpets (we rented steam cleaners) and the windows. Hoping to put the misery of domestic labour behind me I went a bit overboard on the absinthe and spent (literally) the rest of the night making a mess of the newly polished toilet bowl. Sweet poetic justice...
And now I'm staying with George-man Doyle, midget-kisser extraordinaire on the couch in the living room of her circus-house. She's living in a house with 10 people from all over the world, which would be heaps of fun, but I have no energy for fun anymore. Last night she discovered that she doesn't have a return bout of chickenpox as diagnosed by the friendly and thorough English health system but rather bed bugs. I'd be sympathetic, but its just too funny.
Only 2 more days of work and then finished. Last issue I received comments requesting more details of my travels. I wasn't entirely sure if that meant my future plans or what I'd done already. If you meant the latter, tommy, then you've heard it all. In 6 months in London, we've made it for weekends in Oxford, Paris and Amsterdam, all of which have been written about right here. That's not to say we've spent the weekends sitting around the house (well at least not the nights) but we have not managed to get very far out of London. If you wanted details of my plans, I'm sure I've been through this before but I'll make a new post which I'll keep a linked in the side-bar so my plans are always accessible (see 'Itinerary').
So yeah, its all coming to a painful and drawn-out end here. But it just makes me more keen on travel, and really thats what its all about. I've had more fun than I ever thought I would working full time but in the end I'm here to see as much of the world as I can manage on the measly pension centrelink give me...
...God bless the welfare-state.