Travelling around the lounge room this week.

I've not blogged in a while, and while I am tempted to tell you that this is because I have been far too busy mingling with my new incredibly good looking, fun and famous new friends, that's not the case at all.  In truth.. I haven't had all that much to blog about about. Unless of course, anybody is interested me recounting to them the entire first season of 'Game of Thrones'?

Don't give up on this post yet though, because I do have some mildly interesting things to tell you, and I'll even include some pictures.

I told you they were good-looking

My last night in Brighton was better than my first. I danced, I met some very lovely people, drank several G&Ts and stayed out very late! It took me about six hours to get back to Surrey the next day - a journey which really should only take two. I think the issue was a combination of my thudding hangover, my lack of understanding of the transport system, and pure laziness. oh.. was i meant to be on that train..? damn. But I got back eventually, fell on the couch and watched CSI re-runs until I fell asleep. I barely moved until Tuesday.

I can actually see how it would be appealing to climb in at 5am when its cold and you're pissed... 

Aside from watching far too many cliched crime shows, this week has been largely uneventful. I have not been feeling very well, so have been resting and enjoying having a house to myself to do so. I did go for a nice bike ride to buy some books, and I have been going for walks, just so that my muscles don't go completely limp from lack of use. 

Oh, have I mentioned that i booked my trip to Paris? I leave on March 6, and I'm going for 2 weeks. I've arranged to stay with a woman in her spare room, right in the middle of Paris, so that should work well. She is Irish (so speaks English) and seems keen to show me around a little. I found this through airbnb.com which is a cool service for finding short term accommodation. It's not costing too much (for Paris). I'm with her until the 11th, and then have 2 nights at the end where I'll need to stay elsewhere, but that will be easy. I can figure something else out. I'm very excited about paris, there are so many things I want to see there. 

I have also been applying for jobs in London, the practical side of me knows I will have to get one, the travelling side of me wants to kick that idea right in the balls. But there we go, practicality you win again, one must work to support one's travel I suppose. I think I will apply for jobs elsewhere in the UK too, and let fate have it's way with me. Surely wherever the work is, I will find a home, and wherever I find a home, I will find friends, and then I will be happy there, for a bit of time, until I get bored of it and move again. That's the plan anyway, not to stay still too long. 

I have been making some amazing food while living alone. I've loved eating so many vegetables, completely cutting out lactose and not cheating one little bit (that's right cheese, you will not defeat me!!) I made stuffed capsicums, and stuffed eggplants, delicious fajitas, pasta with tuna and capers and lemon and veggies.. Roast chicken with lemon and garlic and thyme.. So many salads... I really enjoy cooking. I have no concept of how to cook for one person though, so I have a fridge full of leftovers, which is wonderful for lunch.

Anyway, I'm rambling now, so here is a picture of me. It isn't recent. 

In fact it is probably about 20 years old 

Sand is just tiny little rocks anyway

My side trip to Brighton has been fun. A much needed escape from what was becoming a little nest of lonesome despair in south London. I arrived at Brighton train train yesterday afternoon determined to snap myself out of it, and while I'm not completely snapped, I feel much calmer and I am glad I came.

In the evening I wandered along the foreshore, it's about half an hour from my hostel to Brighton pier, the walk is very gorgeous, colored bathing houses, huge Victorian mansions, people walking their hilarious scruffy dogs. And the beach. The beach with rocks where the sand should be.

I stopped for a long time to watch, and then film, some birds doing an amazing dance over the now derelict west pier- a man told me they were starlings. There was a flock of birds which looked like a little black cloud, gliding perfectly around and around the burnt out structure. They whipped down and up, around and around, perfectly synchronised... it was so beautiful. I will try to share the video with you.

Then I walked up and down the main Brighton pier, which is like a carnival. I watched people eat ice cream (it's 5 degrees) and shoot plastic ducks, lots of tourists were holding ridiculous stuffed toys, lots of kids were saying "but mum I just need four more pounds!!" Watching the lights and the kids and the merry go round made me smile, I felt very happy just observing this family fun, and didn't participate at all (which is good for my purse strings I suspect).

I then went to a couple of pubs, hoping to find some kind young strangers to chat to. I found a couple, but the night wasn't all that exciting. Brighton has some reputation as a 'hens and bucks' town- there were a lot of these sorts of things going on , which was sort of... Terrifying.

I ended up back at my hostel watching a Jodie Foster horror movie with some other backpackers, we yelled things at Jodie and laughed at the cliches, and I was in bed by midnight. This was more fun than the nightlife!

Today I decided to get my hair cut and buy a pair of shoes. I did both and am most pleased with the result of my venture. I decided it was my reward for having been overseas for a month.

Also, I'm going to Paris.

Rocks on the beach

Beautiful Victorian Houses in Brighton

Cloud of Starlings

Brighton Beach

Gorgeous antique diamonds. Yes please. 

Turning down my headphones

Sam, my therapist, said to me that human emotions are like listening to music through headphones.

Some people have their headphones turned up so loud that it drowns out everything else. It overwhelms every other sense, and makes it difficult to focus on anything except for the music. Whether the emotional music you are listening to is happiness, grief, anger, or love, if the music is too loud, it needs to be turned down.

Some people's music isn't loud or clear at all. Maybe they spend a lot of time trying to figure out what emotional music they are listening to. Maybe they aren't listening at all. This doesn't mean they don't have feelings, it just means they don't 'hear' them the same way.

I am definitely a 'loud headphones' person. This isn't necessarily a negative or positive trait, it is just the way I am. What Sam has taught me, and what I am continuing to teach myself, is that sometimes it's ok to just turn the music down a bit.

For the last few days my headphones have been finely tuned to playlist somewhat resembling this:

Homesick - The Cure

Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me - The Smiths

Useless - Imogen Heap

Lonely Day - System of a Down

Are you getting the idea? Basically, a lonely, sad and homesick bunch of songs which are good for moping and crying to.

What Sam would say, (I think) is that it is okay to feel lonely. It is okay to miss my friends and it is okay to have doubts.  He would tell me to allow myself to feel these things. Give myself some time to experience how I feel, cry if I need to, have an emo moment, listen to The Smiths and drink a bottle of wine. But don't let the headphones be turned up so loud that I can't hear/feel anything else. Listen to the sad and lonely music for a little while, and then turn it down.

I hope I am not losing you in the analogy here, because when Sam says it, it makes so much sense.

I'm still lonely, and I'm still sad. I still miss my friends, and there is a part of me that just wants to go home and hug my mum. But instead of giving into it, I'm just gonna turn the music down a bit, and maybe intersperse the playlist with a couple of more positive songs.

Paris - Friendly Fires
No Particular Place to Go - Chuck Berry

I'll let you know when I've booked my next train ticket :) 

A kid asks for £1 to go on a ride in shopping centre

Kid's mother is tearing up a scratch and win ticket, and doesn't even look at her daughter as she replies
'I ain't got money to waste on stupid things like that'


Mad world.

Removing my knees

**DISCLAIMER**

I've pushed and pulled with the idea of blogging about sex. I am aware that some of you who read this may not want to know, or may feel uncomfortable reading what I write. That is up to you. Be assured that in writing about this I have taken into account all the many people who could stumble upon it, and have decided that I am prepared to publish it anyway, There is nobody who I would ask specifically not to read it. So, take it or leave it.

**END OF DISCLAIMER**

I don't know what it is that makes me suddenly decide I'm going to turn into a drunken Annabel Chong. If I'm lucky, somewhere between the vodka and the paracetamol, the feeling wears off, and I realise that actually I would rather go home and cuddle my pillow instead.   - A random diary entry, 2011

When I left Australia I made the decision that I wasn't going to have any sex for a while. At first it seemed ridiculous. I didn't share my ambition with anybody, because I felt sure that I would be met with laughter. When I did share, I was. Most people I have told have responded with rolling eyes and something along the lines of "yeah right" or "we'll see".

Most people asked me why, in the most hilarious tone. It was as if I had just told them I want to have my knees removed. I almost enjoy telling people now, just to watch them flabbergast over it. I don't have a straightforward and articulate response really. Except that I have been having sex now for ten.. eleven years. I have had a lot of sex. There have been some I was very in love with, some who were friends, some I hardly knew, and some I wish I hadn't had sex with. I have had good sex, bad sex, drunk sex, and sex I don't remember at all. Now, I want to have no sex. Just for a while.  I want to experience being by myself, physically. Not for a definitive amount of time, or until I have some great epiphany, I just want to do it, for a while.

“When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person's body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.” ― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

It may seem convenient that my celibacy binge began at pretty much the same time as me leaving the country, and therefore leaving behind anyone who I may have been having a sexual relationship at the time. Take away the sex partner/s, and well, of course I am celibate. I see and understand this. But it is not only the act of turning down sex (such as the charmer last night who kissed me and then said "I wanna bone you" - sometimes it's really easy to say no), it is knowing in my heart that I am actively not interested in having any sex. My mindset is different because sex is not even an option, and it hasn't been a difficult transition at all.

I do wonder what it might be like, when I decide that I do want to have sex again. Whether it will be after a night of vodka, whether I will reunite with my blue eyed Sydney boy, or whether I will one day fall in love again. Any of these are okay with me, and breaking my celibacy won't be a failure at any point, it will just be... sex.

Last night men hit on me, two even kissed me. It actually strengthened my resolve. Drunk men fondling at me as I tried to dance. Assuming that dancing means gyrating, laughing means flirting, talking means kissing. It's tiring really. Admittedly, I wasn't in the classiest of establishments - some packed dirty bar in Brixton. But I really don't see the appeal of a 30-something year old man in his dishevelled suit trying to grab my boobs on the dance floor while he spills his bourbon on his shirt. Okay, so perhaps last night was not a challenge at all..

As I write this blog, I am exactly four weeks celibate (I am awaiting my nun's habit in the mail). I feel good about it, and I don't care whether you think it's silly or strange. Who needs knees anyway?

First twinge of homesickness.

Maybe it was my dreams, or maybe it was the pile of cushions I slept on, but I woke up this morning feeling unmistakably miserable. I suppose it's a natural follow-up to the thoughtfulness of yesterday. I guess I just miss home. I miss my mum and I miss my friends.

Last night it snowed. I went outside for a cigarette and thought there was ash falling from the sky.

I am heading out soon, to find some lunch and coffee. My hostel is all booked out so I think I will spend another night at my cousin Sophie's house. We had some lovely conversations the other night about family and connections, it is lovely to have that with her.

Being such a social person, it is very strange for me not have friends around. This is part of the learning process, being overseas. I want to be okay to spend time alone, and I don't want to need people all the time. I do, however, miss having a group of people to just hang out with. People who don't need to ask me where I'm from, what I do, why I'm here and what my plan is. Conversation is just so much easier with people you know. I suppose that's obvious though isn't it.


I shall end this blog with a handy tip.

Probably don't listen to The Smiths when you are sad.

Thoughtful in London

My plane landed over fields of snow and I felt so happy - I really do love being in London. It's funny because the first time I was here, I really didn't like it. This time though, it holds some kind of magic for me. I feel similarly about London to how I have felt about Sydney. What wonderful, huge cities, with so many different people, so much history and politics, hidden laneways and underground mazes. I feel excited and inspired here. The cold doesn't dampen my motivation here.


So, first I need to apply for a National Insurance Number, and get a bank account. Then I need to find a job, and somewhere to live. These things feel exciting, and not stressful at all.

I still want to travel. I still have that itch. I want to go to Turkey next I think. The amazing thing about Europe is that I really can go anywhere. I think my goal is to go pretty much everywhere.

I've had lots of emotions the last few days. Thinking about this journey I am on. I've thought about what I was doing this time last year, how things have changed for me in such unexpected ways. There is still a huge part of me that grieves for the life I used to have. My relationship, my garden, my neighbours, my job, my home. It has been such a change for me.

The very beginning of this journey to the other side of the world began with me feeling like I had lost absolutely everything. It took me so long to stop crying. In fact, I still cry. But at some point I stopped crying as much. And I decided instead of crying, I am going to see the world. I also decided that while I see the world I am going to figure out some things about myself. I'm going to spend some time with myself.

Today I am pensive and calm, but I feel good. I really think London does good things to me.

xxx

Butterflies made from words

Galway, and back to Dublin

I am sitting on a bus, heading back to Dublin. I spent last night and today in Galway, a gorgeous little town which sits on the west coast of Ireland, on the fast flowing Corrib River (where this morning I watched daring Irishmen fall out of their kayaks and then squeal from the cold).

The Corrib

The Spanish Arch, this is what's left of the city walls. It dates back to 1584.

Some trad music. 

Oscar Wilde statue. He is having a leisurely conversation with Eduard Wild. 

At the museum, I saw this bowl. It is from 2100BC. That is heaps old. 

Irish countryside

I feel sleepy and calm, happy and thoughtful as this bus meanders (jerks) through the countryside. I am glad I took this little trip by myself, because now I feel more open to exploring and wandering, I feel like something had happened in Dublin that stumped me, caught me like a feather on a branch and suddenly I was scared to be on this adventure, suddenly maybe it wasn't the right thing. Maybe it was the cold and the rain, or maybe it was seeing Ellie and the spot she is in, but something took the wind from my sails and I was afraid. This probably explains why I haven't written anything much about Dublin so far. But now I am heading back there, with a new outlook, a new excitement. I have five days still until I go back to London, so I look forward to giving Dublin another chance.

I have been overhearing some quite strange and hilarious things on my journeys, and I am not sure whether this is because I am alone and so have not been talking so much (thus drowning out the sound of others), or because Irish people say silly things (hmmm… racist…) but I have started to write them down, because... well it's entertaining for me. So I will share them with you now.

1. An Irishman walks into a bar…

Drunk Irishman 1:              I love living in Galway, Tis a beautiful town.

Drunk Irishman 2:              Aye, I love Galway too. Raises glass

Drunk Irishman 1:              I think God is here, in Galway.

Drunk Irishman 2:              In Galway? Yes, I think so too.

Drunk Irishman 1:              Well he's definitely not up there. Points to the sky.

Drunk Irishman 2:              In heaven?

Drunk Irishman 1:              Nah, in the North.  Laughs heartily.

2. Recession

Irishman on the street runs into a friend        

Irishman 1:           Hey! Haven't seen you around what you been doin'?

Irishman 2:           Lookin' for a job.

Irishman 1:           You and the rest of the fuckin' country!  We should get a pint!

Irishman 2:           If you'll pay.

Bless us.

Two women are sitting in a café gossiping.

Irishwoman 1:     She says she doesn't believe in baptism!

Irishwoman 2:     Gasps

Irishwoman 1:     Yes I know! She says the baby should have a choice if he wants to be blessed!

Irishwoman 2:     What did you say to her?

Irishwoman 1:     Well I explained, it's not us who blesses the baby; it's the baby who blesses us!

Both women nod knowingly and are quiet for some time before resuming their conversation about an unrelated topic.

So back to Dublin now, with my pack on my back, the same clothes I partied in 'til 3am, and my very unwashed hair (now I understand the term dirty backpackers. I am actually quite dirty), to Ellie's house via the pub, and onward.

xxx

Dublin: I wish I had more to say.

I'm sitting on a train, leaving Dublin, and realize that this is the first time I have actually had the opportunity to blog about my experience here so far.

It isn't that I haven't enjoyed Dublin, because I have. I have met new people and seen new things (which are invariably really old things, built before fire was discovered), I have spent time with my sweet dear Ellie, I have drunk copious amounts of alcohol (no, I've not had any Guinness yet), eaten strange Irish foods containing far too much cheese, seen some excellent live music, and been colder than any human should ever have to be in their life. I swear to god, people should not have to be this cold. Ever. 

An hour and a half through my spontaneous train trip to Galway, I am having a gin and tonic. The man seated across from me is elderly and slightly too friendly. He wants to know what I think about Ireland. He wants to know what I think of Irish food, Irish pubs, Irish countryside, the Irish language, Irish public transport, Irish people, Irish weather… and so on. It's a bit cute, he is clearly a proud Irishman, but honestly I am trying to be consumed by the colours outside the train window, it is just beautiful. Green and grey and sunset skies. Not as hilly as I had imagined, but absolutely gorgeous. 

A friend I made while drunk. 

A park near Ellie's house

The Liffey River that runs through Dublin.

Me on the Ha'penny Bridge

"Cheap wine and a female goat"
My old friend Willy and I, getting Aussie.

With my Ellie at long last

I realise that I am still yet to actually blog about Dublin. This is something I will endeavour to do before I leave the place, I promise. But first I will go to Galway. 

xxx