Take note, there's still a hole in your heart

When I was little – and I mean really little, round 5 – I was obsessed with space. It was basically my first fandom. I kept a scrapbook filled with articles and fact sheets about the moon landing and satellite launches, the planets and constellations. My parents took me to the planetarium, a lot, and it always thrilled me to bits.

I wanted to be an astronomer.

It’s an interest that stayed with me throughout the years. We have a variety of telescopes, and we use them fairly regularly. I’ve stayed up late and woken up early for eclipses, meteor showers, comets and planetary alignments in their various forms. I can tell direction based on the position of constellations (in the southern hemisphere at least) and I can always spot Orion or Scoprio with no difficulty (the latter mainly thanks to Antares.) Back in the days of Windows 95, I had a computer program that charted star positions based on the co-ordinates you gave it - it seemed pretty high tech back then. Ah, life before GPS.

It sounds faintly ridiculous, but I love the night sky. One of my favourite things used to be lying in our driveway, listening to my ipod and just staring at the stars…while my dog ran around the garden like a mad thing. I never see the stars where I live now – it’s my only complaint about my living situation. London is much too big and bright for any decent stargazing. It’s quite sad, really. Particularly because these are entirely foreign stars to me, I don’t know them at all.

Being an astronomer never really felt like a real job, somehow, so I toyed with the idea of being a marine biologist for a bit – like a lot of girls seem to do. But if I’m honest, I didn’t really have that much interest in marine life. I just liked the mammals and the beach. Anyway, I get so seasick, it would never have been a viable option.

Then, of course, I wanted to be a pilot. This was the only concrete “career” goal I ever had. It made sense because I’d spent so much time around planes and airports. I love everything about those things – not the commercial, passenger side of it, but the behind the scenes stuff that goes into making the propulsion of a huge, heavy object into the air a viable transport option. I think planes are beautiful things, the engineering that goes into it is magnificent. But actually flying a plane? Well, it didn’t really seem like something I’d enjoy. And besides, it’s stupidly expensive and requires a level of math skill that moving across continents had left me incapable of achieving.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately – having reached that part of the year where I have to evaluate all my life choices – and it’s interesting that I ended up studying what I did. All of these interests, they’re all scientific. And physics was one of the subjects I found most interesting in high school, though I couldn’t really grasp the math side of it that well.

I think people often neglect how closely tied science and philosophy actually is. Physics, in particular, is strewn throughout humanities theory and I found having an understanding of it to be more beneficial during my undergrad studies than anything else I did at school. Because of course I went on to do a humanities degree – what else? Flying was out of the question and the thing I was best at was writing. That was effortless and easy, it made sense to study that. Misguidedly dreaming of being a music journalist or a travel writer, always on the move and indulging in the things I love most.

Sometimes I can’t understand why I did it. Why not history, which I also loved and kicked ass at? Why not archaeology or something like that? Somehow writing seemed like the sensible choice back then, the failsafe option that would definitely have a job waiting at the other side of it. Which, granted, it did but…well, it’s not like I’m doing that now, is it? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it. I often say how useless my degree is but I don’t think it was a waste of time. I’m one of those people who think learning is never a waste of time, even if it is very obscure things you’re learning (that said, some of my subjects were profoundly useless – the weird fashion one where we were applying cultural theory to clothes and shopping malls comes to mind.) But in terms of actually helping me find a job that I enjoy, the degree doesn’t do much. Publishing is really not for me, the idealistic journalism that I believed in before I started uni doesn’t exist. And it bores me to tears. That is the biggest problem. Writing for other people is a chore I do not enjoy and I am not particularly good at doing things I’m told to do. Yes, my degree is broader than straight journalism, but I’m so jaded when it comes to media, I can’t really face anything in that field and that's really what my degree is set up for.

So, then, here we are. Plotting the next step in my life. I actually enjoy my current job, surprisingly. It involves a lot more html code than I’d ever have thought I’d deal with on a daily basis. But it’s not a job that really exists back in Australia. I’m applying for a PhD because it’s something I’ve wanted since I was 6 and my mum first took me to her old university (I have always been a nerdy child, what can I say). Academia feels natural, easy, it’s something I can do pretty confidently. Whether I actually want to do it…I don’t know. Everything gets very tricky and bogged down in semantics if you think about it too long. Somewhere in the background processes of my mind, I’ve also idly thought about doing another bachelor’s degree. Something more like history or archaeology or linguistics. But do I really need another degree I’ll likely not use? Or more student debt? I think not.

It would be fun though.

Maybe I should do a science degree. One of my friends from undergrad has gone on to do biology after realising that marketing just wasn’t cutting it for her, so I know it’s not unusual. It’s the math element that worries me – it’s been 7 years since I studied math in any capacity and even back then I wasn’t great at it. I can’t imagine being any good at it now and I’ll probably have to pass some sort of entry exam to get into a degree like that. But then my perception of being good at something is completely effed up – I say I suck at math but my results were in the 70% range. I think I could probably do a physics degree, I’d have to put in a lot of work, a lot more than I’ve ever had to in my academic life, and then I think my results would probably come in around the credit region, 2:2, that kind of thing. I don’t know if I can face being that mediocre at something. It’s not in my nature to accept it.

See, this is when my perfectionism raises its ugly head. I’ve never persisted in anything I wasn’t immediately good at because I cannot bear the thought of failure. And nothing I do is ever really good enough on a personal level so when I’m actually not great at something, it’s like it physically hurts me. That’s why I never stuck with learning a musical instrument or drawing. And how’s this for warped, I don’t like taking lessons in something I’m not already fairly confident at doing because I don’t like people supervising me. So basically, I’ll try to teach myself but I’m not naturally inclined to the task at hand, so I struggle and then I give up. Because giving up is better than sucking, even if my idea of sucking is way different to a normal persons’ idea of sucking, right? Right. I can’t play Tchaikovsky's piano concerto no 1 the first time I sit down at a piano? This is an outrage! I’ll never be any good at this, why bother! *kicks over piano* I know it’s not healthy or useful, and I try really hard to not be like that. But it’s part of who I am, I can’t control it. I’m way better than I used to be, mind, waaaaay better, yet I can’t seem to get over it completely.

I just don’t see the point in doing something if you’re not going to excel at it – what are you trying to achieve? And I know if I worked hard, I could probably learn to be good at some things, but I’m lazy. Being clever makes you laaaaazy. I cruised through my academic career, like I said before I found it pretty easy. And I’d always feel guilty listening to other people talk about how much they’ve studied or worked throughout the year, and still not doing that well. If I do a science degree, I fear that will be me. I have very little faith in my ability to bear that.

This makes me sound horrible and vain and conceited – I don’t think I am. I hope I'm not. It's just that there are certain things I’m used to, around which my identity is constructed, and it gets problematic when that frame of reference is removed.

So, yeah. I don’t know. This ramble hasn’t really helped me clear anything up. But I don’t blog nearly as much as I used to so I guess I can allow myself the odd pointless, meandering, TL;DR outburst. Woo.

Music: Dancepack - Volcano Choir

I know just what to do

I have walked far too much today. After spending most of last night staring into space, unable to sleep, I decided the best cure would be to have a Saturday outing - when I am in one of these self-reflective, self-destructive moods, I find it's better if I'm out and about, rather than sitting at home, digging myself deeper into a mental hole.

So I set off this morning with the intention of visiting the Barbican's Rain Room. I've been meaning to do this for weeks and, as it closes tomorrow, I figured I'd better get my act together. Only I noticed that they had updated their approximate queue time to 6 hours. Still, I was unconcerned. Surely not. I was going to get there early, long before opening time, it would be fine.

This is the problem with London, people actually go out and do stuff. Shows sell out. Gigs sell out. Exhibitions are packed. You can't just idly wander about and act on your whims here, there are just too many people, and they're all out doing stuff. So I really shouldn't have been surprised when I got to the Barbican to find an already massive line. Now as cool as I think the Rain Room sounds, I'm not standing in a line for hours. Nope. Ain't happening. Sorry.

Finding myself so at a loss of something to do, I decided to do what I do best, wander aimlessly. But I wasn't really paying that much attention and so very quickly found myself a liiiiittle bit lost. Not helped by the fact that there is quite a lot of construction work happening, blocking streets and getting me all turned around and confuzzled. But getting lost is part of the fun and I basically refuse to look at a map (because that's cheating), so I wandered north for a bit, then east until I got to Bishopsgate, and then south and west again.

Wandering back and forth, with no clear idea of where I was going, I eventually stumbled out from between some buildings to discover St Paul's looming over me. I've found myself, I thought, and that struck me as kind of ironic, considering it was a church and all. And so, back among the tourist hordes, my time criss-crossing the winding maze of back streets was at an end.

I made my way down Fleet Street, ambling towards Trafalgar Square, and I realised I was having a fantastic day. Which sounds ridiculous, I know, because I wasn't actually doing anything, just...walking, and walking, and walking. But this city is mental and when you're walking through it, you start to really appreciate its idiosyncrasies; the way different pockets of time seem to exists all over the place. And it's like you can see the history of the city, the echoes of everything it was, interwoven with everything it is, and could still be, all around you. I think that's what makes London so intoxicating. That's what I love about it.

It just reminded me of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere, which I just recently re-read (and it was even better, now that I live here.)

'There are little bubbles of old time in London, where things and places stay the same, like bubbles in amber,' she explained. 'There's a lot of time in London, and it has to go somewhere - it doesn't all get used up at once.'

Music: Providence - Foals

I want all that is not mine

It’s been ages since I blogged, and ages since I blogged anything that wasn’t lame and emo – I originally attempted to write something back in the second week of January and then got distracted…which I shamefully admit is often the way over here. Christmas, for what it’s worth, was brilliant. It was fun having family visit and getting to show them around Sydney, especially since most of them had never been overseas before. So yes, having a proper family Christmas at home made for a nice change.

Now I’m back in London and everything is great and lovely, and it’s baffling how this town feels so much like home. I don’t know how or when or why it happened, but somewhere around the end of last year it did, and so I find myself with a rather stupid grin on my face a lot of the time. It’s good to be back. I made the right call. Seems a bit pointless to do it now, but as I was on a plane on New Year’s day, I think I’ll allow myself this very (month!) late 2012 round up. So. Here goes -

Last year was pretty damn epic, all things told. I visited 14 countries, properly left home for the first time and set up a new life on the other side of the world (again.) There were some pretty significant downs during the year, but in the end it all evened out and I do not regret anything for a moment. Travelling, I think, is one of the best things you can do. And breaking out and standing on your own two feet is certainly a positive thing too. I think I’ve changed a lot, in a good way, so on that front, it was definitely a Good Year. And, to quote The Gaslight Anthem, I found that nothing truly matters that you cannot find for free.

Photo recap? Photo recap.

Best wedding ever?

Where it all began.

Because, Paris. Always charming. 

Lovely Lisboa, with it's many hills and sunshine and ginjinha.

Greatly overestimating the walkability of Barcelona.

Hobo-ing it up in Milan.

Freezing in Verona.

Carnevale!

Because, Venice. Old school decadence.

Budapest. Unexpectedly amazing.

Hostel laundry night = despair.

Austrian National Library, Vienna. Want.

Neuschwanstein Castle in winter, so unbelievably picturesque.

Twitter exchanges about showers and shoe throwing. Ah, the madness in Prague. 

Being physically incapable of walking any further in Berlin.

Stockholm, natural habitat of the hipster...

...and hanging out with cool people.

Copenhagen. That's all. Just, Copenhagen.

London living.

Friends visiting and being touristy together.

And taking cool day trips with them.

Working in a ridiculously fun office.

Oh, and Olympic London. Pretty epic, really.

Also, drinking. Lots of drinking.

Halloween shenanigans.

Harry Potter fangirling.

Deep Scottish Love.

Multiple visits to pretty Edinburgh...

...and hanging out in Lizzie's fave cafe.

The realisation that, although things may change drastically in our lives, we'll always be a little insane.

Weekend in Northern Ireland.

Tourist life, yo.

Summer in Sydney. Still the best.

Afternoon beach walks with my dog. Missed it desperately.

Exploring new places and birthday celebrations.

The mayhem of a Sydney New Year's Eve.

No one does it better.

I’m not really one for making resolutions, but if I had to have a goal for this year, it would to finish one of my novels. And I want to get back to seriously researching, and applying for, my PhD. And I want to make the most of my year in the UK, just really get the most out of London living cause for all I know, this is the last time I’ll have this opportunity. I guess living life in the moment is the most important thing I learned last year, and that’s something I definitely want to keep up. And hell if you make mistakes or get hurt or find yourself disappointed, that’s important too, at least it means you’re actually living.

And, to end, here’s my top song of 2012. This band basically soundtracked the year.

Music: Smother - Daughter

Things we used to rely on

Blogging at work as I've already fallen back into my old habit of procrastination. Writing is such a strange thing to do for a job. For me it's always been arbitrary and I struggle having to do it because, well, I have to.

First week isn't going too horribly though. Panic is starting to set in over the sheer amount of work I'm going to have to get my head around very quickly. I don't even know where to start so I don't want to start at all. But if I have any hope of getting on top of things, I need to finish writing this intro and three interviews today, and then we can worry about this whole editor nonsense.

Can't believe I'm back to this. Everything feels weird. Twilight Zone-y. All the same, yet subtly different. Just enough to be unsettling. I am baffled by what a timid creature I was when I first started here, nearly three  years ago. And I'm absolutely refusing to become the run down, stressed out, desperately unhappy person I was when I left.

I don't know. Everything feels strange at the moment. Transitional period, I suppose. While I'm finding my feet on a professional level, I'm dissatisfied on a personal one where I'm still not entirely sure coming back was the right move for me. But that's life, I guess. What can you do.

In the meantime, I'll just listen to lots of loud music and get on with it.

Did you sleep last night and do you remember dreams?
Do I ever cross your mind and do you ever think of me?
When you think about your life are there things you would reverse?
I still remember holding you, just out of sight of her
In the deep, dark parking lot pressed up against my car
With your hands around my neck I felt the pounding of your heart
And the summer night was giving in to the lure of autumn’s sway
I can’t seem to forget that night or how I heard you say

That I’d just die if you ever took your love away
Oh and I'd just die if you ever took your love away
Would you miss me if I was gone and all the simple things were lost?
Would you ever wait on me to say
Oh that I’d just die if you ever took your love away

Music: Mulholland Drive - The Gaslight Anthem

Busy bees

Exhausted Jen is exhausted! I have had a very eventful week showing the delightful Kat around town. She was visiting from Germany for a week, so I took a couple of days off work so we could hang out and soak up some culture. And we got up to all sorts!

We kicked things off with a visit to the Science Museum which has a brilliant interactive area for kids, aka us. Magnets and electricity and water are all waiting to be messed with. We timed it well, getting in there just before the school groups arrived so we could try out a whole bunch of things. I was quite pleased with myself as I managed to get us tickets to Twelfth Night at the Globe, with Stephen Fry. It’s been sold out for weeks and it was pure whim that managed to get me the tickets. I admit, I was very chuffed. It was for the Wednesday matinee, which luckily stayed rain-free (apparently it was pouring for the evening show), and the production was riotously funny. Made even more so by the loud, booming laugh of one of the audience members.

Expelliarmus!

It was all luck that day - I had also managed to leave my bag at Wagamama at lunch but they still had it when I went to retrieve it some five hours later. Inadvertent free cloaking service! The ever wonderful Abbi and Paul very kindly had us over for dinner that eve, and I think it was a great way to kick off Kat’s London adventuring.

Of course, there was plenty of shopping to be had and we spent most of Thursday trawling Oxford Street, Soho and Covent Garden looking for the perfect pair of winter boots (and we found them too, when we’d all but given up.) We quickly discovered that we’re both quite fond of finding pubs to just loiter in for hours – but then, as my foursquare will attest, I am overly familiar with the pubs of Soho. Makes me feel vaguely like an alcoholic. Pubs aside, I couldn’t resist introducing her to one of my favourite places, Yumchaa. Tea goodness!

Hmm, Rooibos, king of the teas.

Kat went exploring on her own and I headed off to see Killing Them Softly at a charming old theatre in Notting Hill. It was actually very good, quite brutal but with some funny moments. Interesting juxtaposition of themes and tone. But hey, I do love an assassin film and Brad Pitt was great.

Friday we decided to get out of town and so headed off to Cambridge. Despite every single person we came into contact with suggesting that we go punting, we didn't. Frankly, it was too cold. Instead wandered the winding streets, dodged cyclists, ventured into antique stores and op shops and sat in pubs/coffee shops when we needed to defrost. As you do.

T'is very picturesque.

Most of the colleges were closed to the public but we did take a stroll through the small but gorgeous Clare College. Oh, and we visited the Fitzwilliam Museum, housed in a frankly stunning neoclassical building. The town was beautiful and well worth visiting. We were both knackered by the end of the day though and did not appreciate the torrential downpour awaiting us on the return to London. But nothing some good Italian food can’t cure!

Despite the ominous rain of the previous evening, Saturday was a beautiful clear, crisp autumn day and so we went cycling in Kensington Gardens/Hyde Park. Absolute brilliant idea! We rented a couple of Boris bikes, lacking in all manner of suspension and a general desire to remain upright, and set off all over the park. It was really good fun and a great way to get around. There was ice cream and cider and watching squirrels climbing on tourists. Fun times!

I believe the word is autumnal.

Following lunch in Chinatown, I thought it my duty to introduce Kat to the manic, sugary goodness of M&Ms World – even though it was like the tourist apocalypse in there on a weekend. We then got so distracted by shopping and trying on dresses that we ran horribly late to get to Abbi’s for the start of the girls night out she’d planned. But never mind, we got there in the end, and proceeded to have more cocktails than was perhaps wise and danced until our legs ached. We got home on the wrong side of two am, clearly the sign of a good evening.

Blood & Sand. Very Game of Thrones, I thought.

Needless to say, things were a bit dire the next day and mainly involved sleeping and avoiding loud noises. When we finally emerged, all plans to go to Greenwich had been abandoned and instead we traversed the streets in search of a dry cleaner and pizza. We nearly saw Lady Gaga outside Harrods (couldn’t be bothered waiting) – if you do venture out towards Knightsbridge, check out Harrods’ 007 inspired window displays. They’re pretty swish.

My brief holiday was over so it was back to work again yesterday, where complete chaos and mayhem ensued, but Kat did meet me for dinner though (Thai! We’ve covered all the Asian cuisines during her visit), followed by a trip to Foyles. I got nostalgic over the stack of critical and philosophy books they had on display. That’s right, I was getting sentimental over Foucault and Bordieu. I am that lame. Just made me miss uni a lot. Oh uni, my one true love. I think we also made the cashier’s day by cooing over one of their bags (it has a monster on it) as apparently most people don’t really like it – “I always liked them,” he said. The bags are cute. People should stop being so literary all the time and indulge in a bit of cutesy fun every now and then. It’s good for the soul.

And that was it! I had to farewell Kat as she headed off to Scotland this morning to continue her UK sojourn. It was a really lovely week and it was so nice to have someone around who sympathised with me being cold all the time, rather than just rolling their eyes at me. I’m really hoping to make it out to Germany to visit her at some point (It’s times like these that I really appreciate how small the world really is.)

Next up – Belfast this weekend! Excitement!

Music: Bloodbuzz Ohio - The National

Now you're just some blog that I used to know

I am a terrible blogger. Thing is, I just can't be bothered turning on my laptop when I get home after work and I'm usually out at lunch so, you know, nothing gets done.

But! I've done stuff. A couple of weeks ago I went to Scotland for a few days - first, to explore the Scottish Highlands and then to hang about Edinburgh. I had such a lovely time and I have to admit that by the time I had to get on the train back to London, I was feeling quite bereft. Everyone in Edinburgh was just so nice and the place is beautiful, I can completely understand why Lizzie wanted to live there!

Isle of Skye - so breathtaking.

Then last week, we went to a taping of the Jonathan Ross show and I finally managed to get into the Olympic Park as I went to see the 7-a-side football with Abbi and her lovely mother-in-law. If ever there was a summer to be in London, this was it - the weather might have been shit for the most part but all the Olympic and Paralympic spirit was epic. Luckily the aforementioned shit weather stayed away for our event, and we even managed to get sunburned. Considering that a lot of the Olympic Park will be re-purposed and re-developed, I'm glad I got a chance to see the place and be part of such a wonderful event.

Woo! Sport!

That weekend I also went to visit some of mum's family in Reading. In typical me style, I nearly went on the wrong day but then since I was up early on Saturday anyway, I headed out to the South Bank to see what was going on. Turns out a lot. The Thames Festival was happening and with it being the last weekend of the Paralympics, the place was packed. Many athletes were out enjoying the festivities, along with what felt like every tourist in London. I do love the South Bank though, for some reason I am the happiest here when I'm near the river. I made the most of the lovely day and completed the Red and Blue Mascot Strolls while I was out.

A sunny day in London town.

This week was reserved for movie watching with Abbi. We saw Anna Karenina (booooooring! Stylistically it's quite interesting, but the story remains dull and it felt about 20 hours long), The Imposter (a strange, thought-provoking doco) and Lawless (so good, so very, very good - brilliant on all levels, best film of the year to date.)

I actually want to see it again.

And then Friday, I was reminded that I currently work in what is arguably one of the most fun offices ever. We had an extra long lunch, complete with free drinks, and our usual Friday afternoon Wine Club was enhanced by the quite random introduction of a 90s board game called Dream Phone. Hilarity ensued...not that I think we ever actually figured out how to play properly. Following this, a bunch of us decided to continue the festivities elsewhere well into the evening. Fun times.

Wine Dream Cheese Phone Club

Apparently I've been lacking in sleep though because today I only woke up at 12.30. Insanity, I know. But it's the first time in five days I haven't woken up with a headache. Definite plus. Now I'm waiting for the new episode of Downton Abbey to start. That's a pro of living here, no waiting for your tv shows. I've been watching Doctor Who as it airs each week - unheard of!

Music: The Big Bang Theory

Adventures with Henna

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been contemplating dyeing my hair again. Don’t get me wrong, I like my natural hair colour (especially in summer - proper summer – when it gets decent golden highlights) but I miss my red layer. It was a statement of sorts, and it’s sad when everything is plain and boring again.

So, whenever I’m in a shop, I’ll pour over the hair dyes, particularly the Schwarzkopf Live range as it has the ultra violet colour I liked so much last year, and that I hoped to copy before my hairdresser wanted to bleach my whole head. Um. No. But that’s the problem with hair dye, it’s not really good for your hair. Even without the bleach, it’s still quite harsh. And frankly, my hair is in too much of a state. It’s the first thing to go to hell if I’m under any sort of pressure or in a state of emotional instability. I don’t really want to put more stress on it.

The solution appeared to be henna. So off I went to Lush to acquire some. They do a variety, including one that’s supposed to go properly red, but I chose the Marron – promising chestnut tones, nice reddish highlights in the sun (haha, sun. What is this thing.) Now when you hop on google to look up Lush henna, you’ll find all sorts of people moaning. This is because people suck. But we'll get to that.

I’m not going to lie to you – it’s a hellishly messy process. First there’s the issue of quantity, as Lush henna comes in a slab of 6 smaller blocks. The girl at the shop told me to use the whole lot but in the end I just went for three and a half blocks – it was more than enough (for those of you playing at home, my hair is halfway down my back.) To prepare it, you have to melt and mix it. The henna is a lot tougher than it looks, so I chopped it up into smaller pieces first. Then it went into a heatproof bowl over a pot of water (bring it to the boil, then turn it down) and then I gradually added boiling water to the henna, mixing it until it was a smooth paste. This didn't take nearly as long as I expcted it to.
That was the easy part.

Now it was time for application. It pays to be prepared for the worst. Seriously. Most importantly, gloves are a must. This shit stains like crazy. If it gets on your skin, get it off straight away (if it’s dried a bit, I recommend eye make up remover pads). I placed a towel over the surface I was going to place the bowl on, as well as on the floor. This was good foresight on my part. I also sectioned out my hair before the paste was ready as you need to apply it as hot as possible. So, starting from the back of your head, you pretty much just grab some paste and work it into a section of hair. The thing is, as the henna starts drying, it starts flaking, so you get little bits of it everywhere. Apparently if you add enough water, it won’t do this…but, you know. It’s going to flake at some point. It’s pretty much exactly what I’d imagine coating your head in mud must be like. Fun times.

I actually wouldn’t recommend doing this if you haven’t had your hair professionally dyed. Not because of colour issues (in fact, henna can react really badly with hair dye so it’s best not to do it if you have any chemicals in your hair) but just for the process. I’ve watched my hairdresser section and dye my hair many, many times, so I felt prepared to do this and deal with the mess. If this was your first introduction to hair dye, I think you’d be absolutely horrified by this whole process.

Anyway. Once I’d managed to coat my hair, and thankfully not my ears and face, in the stuff, I then wrapped my head with cling film. I have trouble with cling film at the best of times, so this was quite the adventure. Next time I am definitely getting a shower cap to put on too. The girl in the shop had advised that it was best to do this in a hot environment for best results. Where she expected me to find this in London, I do not know. So I just wrapped a towel around my head as well.

The packaging says to leave it on for 1-4 hours, and I’d read online that the longer you left it on the more vivid the tones. Because I’d only started the whole process around 5pm, I didn’t go for the 6 hours I’d originally planned but rather left it for 4. This is about of time it takes to clean up anyway so… No, no, I exaggerate. It wasn’t that bad. I had been careful. So I made dinner and read etc etc.

Now for the worst bit – getting it out. Actually, before I washed it out, I first used my hairdryer on it. I don’t think this is the recommended thing to do, but I know from experience colour always lasts longer if it’s been stuck under a dryer for a bit first *shrug* But yes, it was absolutely awful washing this stuff out of my hair. Foul. Plus I kept panicking about staining the shower, so I’d spent just as much time hosing down the walls as trying to wash my hair. It looks absolutely vile. If you're doing this, I recommend just closing your eyes and hoping for the best. Shampoo, condition, it’s not too much of a hassle to get out – it just gets everywhere.

In this whole arduous process, I didn’t stain a single thing. I am so proud of myself.

The difference it has made to my hair colour is negligible. My hair is dark brown so I can’t really say I’m surprised, most things in my hair are negligible, like the purple I put in it last year. I notice the difference, because I know it’s there. Simply, where I had golden brown bits before, it’s now red brown. I can see the red pigment when I look at it in the light. If I do this a couple more time, it’ll get more vibrant, until I have a red halo if the sun hits me just right. It’s nothing remarkable, nothing to write home about.

But! My hair feels amazing. I can’t remember the last time my hair felt this good. It’s so incredibly soft. And shiny. Sleek, even. And yeah ok, I never had frizzy hair, but still. It feels so healthy. And I even think I’m having less hair fall than I normally do, and it’s not getting greasy as quickly. For these reasons alone, despite the effort, I’d keep using Lush henna.

Which brings me back to the point about people sucking… nearly everyone online complains about the mess and effort involved in this, and often about the colour not being vivid enough. It’s a natural product, what did you expect? It’s about building up pigment, not dyeing really. So if you’re after some instant, noticeable-oh-you-dyed-your-hair results, this probably isn’t the product for you. But if something subtle will do, especially if it makes your hair feel awesome, then don’t let the effort involved put you off. Yes, it’s a lot of work, and it’s kind of gross and smells funny, but hey. Think of it as a mud mask for your hair, with a nice pigment-y payoff at the end.

I think I may actually try the Rouge variety when I finish the Marron henna. See how red that goes. Plus I think this will be a much less painful process when I get back home – someone on a forum somewhere suggested hosing it off in the garden and that sounds like a brilliant idea to me. I'm sure my dad will love assisting with that…

Music: Sweet Tangerine - The Hush Sound

A complicated lifestyle

Cue long exhale. Busy week was epically busy.

Everything has gone by in a mad rush. In fact, this evening was the first time I've actually been home to cook dinner all week! My emails have mounted up to a scary number, heaps of research I need to start and laundry I need to do. But I can't be bothered to do any of it (and starting on my emails seems to daunting) so here we are.

First off, this week was SO LONG. It was painful. I thought it was Friday on Wednesday already, which left a whole two days to suffer through. Do not want. This was mostly due to work drinks on Tuesday evening. One should never have a night out so early in the work week, it just snowballs terribly. But yay, free cocktails!

The whole delightful experienced was marred slightly by my usual incompetence as I lost my oyster card somewhere along the way. Fail. Luckily, they won't sell you a monthly travel card without you registering it first so I could simply ring up and have it transferred to a new card. Took a couple of days, but it's better than losing heaps of money for my stupidity. You have got to love this oyster card system - paper tickets are for the weak! I even accidentally put mine in the wash once and nothing horrible happened to it. If it had been a paper ticket, I'd have been crying over soggy mush. Not ideal.

Other than that, I headed out to dinner with a friend from Twitter on Thursday (all hail the powers of social networking) and last night, after a day of drinking with work mates, I decided in my infinite wisdom to trek out to Sheperds Bush to watch some Super rugby - specifically the Crusaders game. Of course, I would be seated at the same table as a bunch of Chiefs fans (even though the game happened earlier in the day, none of us knew the result so we could pretend we were watching it live) so there were a number of lively disagreements. And my boys won, so all arguments are invalid as far as I'm concerned. It's really weird, but I miss kiwi boys. And when I say kiwi boys, I mean Maori boys, and islander boys. There is a distinct lack of them here and they always make things much more fun. Moan.

Anywhoodle, have been busy hunting more BT Artboxes in the rest of my free time. From Heathrow to Stratford, we're canvassing London. The great thing about this is I get to see parts of town I wouldn't generally wander into. I think I'll do a post on the travel blog about the whole experience once we're done. In the meantime, hop over to Abbi's blog as she's recapping it all in wonderful fashion whereas I'm too lazy to get myself organised at the moment. Today we started in Hyde Park, crossed the London Pride Parade and headed up Baker Street in our noble quest (and also stopped for some shopping, as you do.) Tomorrow, it's another day of hunting around Shoreditch and South Bank. We're going to pass through Old Spitalfields market, so no doubt there will be more shopping. All hail the first weekend after pay-day. Such a joy.

Tiredness has now descended with a vengeance. After all the box hunting (and Oxford street crowd dodging), I cleaned my room, went to the gym, did some grocery shopping and cooked a proper meal for a change (schnitzel with my mum's signature cheese sauce - which again, was not as good as when she makes it, but fine all the same.) I think it may be time to head to bed with some tea and A Feast For Crows. Oh, the horrors that await.

Music: Chop Chop - The Academy Is...

We're going fast

Right, let's round this up, what have I been up to? Well, good question, cause I have absolutely no idea. Apparently not having a routine is good for your memory (very organised people with set habits supposedly don't need to remember things as much as people who have no idea what they're doing one day to the next) so I suppose that counts for something, right?

Made lasagne last night which was infinitely disappointing... it's just not as good as my mum's. Sad. My mum's lasagne is pretty much my favourite thing ever so I while I was eating mine, I just kept thinking how woefully subpar it was. But it was nice to eat something baked for a change. While I was slaving away trying to put this all together, I watched In The Loop and since I was at it, I followed it up with the first season of The Thick Of It. It's such a random show but oh, so many good insults.

I sort of want to start a list of movies I've watched, it's growing rather rapidly. Ah, what not having a television does to you. Thing is, I already can't remember what I've seen...I mean, yeah, I remember when I see their names but off the top of my head, it's not something I can really recall. But not the end of the world, as I see most of my films with Abbi and she already catalogues them in her excellent Film Friday write up (check it out if you get a chance, t'is always entertaining.) I do however know that we watched Attack The Block this week... and I thought it was very good. Well worth all the buzz it had. So yeah. There's one thing I did this week.

I got paid on Friday from ze old job, huzzah! Had a moment of panic when I thought they hadn't actually paid me but no, crisis averted. I have spent most of it already. Oops. But not all frivolously! Some has gone into my savings, and I also bought some groceries and my monthly train ticket. So you know. Responsibility. I have it. Sort of. Sometimes.

Anyway. Definitely didn't have responsibility Thursday evening when I was up until 3am writing a travel article that I've known about for oh, three months? Longer? Fail. Epic fail. And then I accidentally switched off my alarm Friday morning instead of snoozing it, meaning I woke up at 8.30. Eek. Miraculously somehow made it to work on time. I have no idea how that works. Sometimes I catch a train 10 minutes later than normal and arrive at practically the same time. What witchcraft is this? I held up pretty well too, wasn't too useless at work and went for drinks afterwards, so yeah. Not bad.

I just remembered what else I did this week - book club! Thursday in the St James's Park, so lovely. As I mentioned before, we read 50 Shades of Oh God Someone Edit This Please and A Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes. It's such a good discussion group with everyone really getting into talking about the books, so that's lovely. I've ordered my next lot of books, can't wait for them to arrive. I'm so thrilled to be reading again. It feels like it's been ages for some reason. Yay!

OH! I almost forgot what was arguably the most exciting part of the week! We got free money! I know, I know, sounds insane, but it happened. A promotional team had set up shop near work and after pandering along to their marketing scheme, you'd get a code that generated a random sum of money between £3 to £100 for you. I got £20, absolutely thrilled. I love working in the West End, there's so much happening and you're always getting free stuff. Sure the crowds of tourists are frustrating, but I think it's worth it.

Anyway, to celebrate my new found disposable income (this was pre-pay day, so things were pretty dire), I recruited Abbi for a trip to M&M world...where I got completely carried away, but it's okay since this was also when we found our first BT Phone Boxes. New project alert! I've always followed Ab's previous  < insert appropriate painted object > hunting, sad that I couldn't join in cause it seems like such a fun way to get out and about town, discovering new places. And now I get to do it too! Two days of official hunting and 26 boxes down.

The upcoming week is looking pretty busy - plans for practically every evening. But now if you'll excuse me, I have to go ummm and aaaah over a t-shirt buying opportunity for a bit.

You can sit beside me when the world comes down 

If it doesn't matter then just turn around 

We don't need our bags and we can just leave town 

You can sit beside me when the world comes down 

We say, we do 

The lies, the truth 

And all I need is next to me

Music: Mona Lisa - The All American Rejects

Every vessel pitching hard to starboard

I was having weird stomach pains pretty much all day today. I suspect this might be my body’s way of telling me that Heineken, a kitkat, an aero and donuts are not a suitable weekend diet. So I had to suck it up and make a proper meal this eve - and by proper I mean fry up the last of my potatoes in an attempt to recreate the surprisingly delicious potato meal from two weeks ago. It worked too, the were golden and crispy and nommish.

But I was again struck by the fact that, except for the times when Abbi feeds me, I pretty much live entirely off bread, cheese, pasta and potatoes. I am, for all intents and purposes, eating like Martin Crieff.

I can't afford to go out, to buy nice food - I live on toast and pasta - sometimes, for a treat, I have a baked potato!

This is my life. I am more of a student now than I ever was when I actually was a student. I'd like to think it's character building. And good practice for next year when I will be student again, without the benefit of living at home. If I get in, of course, which is highly unlikely if I don't start doing some research instead of just sitting around in the evenings, watching movies.

But this chair is so uncomfortable. Moan.

Anyway. Tomorrow I have a full day of induction, it'll probably involve some sort of hideous team building exercises. Joy. But on one hand, it's good that I'll be away since I've finished all my assigned work and nothing else has come in that they can give me. Oh, the curse of being too efficient.

I need to find a place I can loiter during lunch that is a) not at my desk, and b) not somewhere I have to buy something. I suspect this will prove tricky. I kind of miss the library I used to frequent back in north London - so convenient!

In other news, last week of the month means I am completely and utterly broke. Hate this monthly pay business with a fiery passion. I just hope my old job don't forget to pay me otherwise I will be completely screwed *crosses fingers* Can't wait for the end of the month - pay which means food and new things, bigger room, and tax refund time back home. All positives!

Oh, hey, spoke to the parental unit last night and discovered that they were embarking on a road trip with my aunt and uncle, driving all the way to Cape Town. 'Driving?' I exclaimed, in horror. 'Jesus. Why?' Cue manic laughter from the other end of the phone. Now, I know lots of people who have driven to Cape Town. I personally have never done it - coming from the aviation-privileged life that I do - can't say I've ever really wanted to either. But whatever. Their plan is to do it over three days (I suppose 1,603km isn't so bad divided) I'm envisioning some sort of Darjeeling Limited family quest of sorts. It's giving me novel ideas.

Actually, I just spoke to them and they are here now -

The Three Sisters. 1,066 km from where they started. In one day. So much for taking it easy and stopping along the way. Although knowing them, it was all probably achieved by excessive speeding (speeding runs in the family, we are terrible. In SA, pretty much all of my dad's side consider a good average to be 160km/h on highways. I think my dad once drove us to the coast in four and a half hours, a 630km journey which according to google should take 7-8 hours.)

Now they have to drive through the Karoo -

Which should be... different. I am sort of jealous, except for that bit where I'm terrified of deserts. Not desserts, for they are delicious. (Haha, I'm so witty. No? Oh. Okay.) Anyway. I'm quite interested to see how this little adventure pans out. They're having another ceremony for my granddad in the Cape and scattering the ashes. It's very appropriate since it's the place he was always the happiest and where he always wanted to go back to, but couldn't. So that should be special. Will see, I suppose.

Anyway. I suppose I have procrastinated as much as I can on this blog. Time to write something...

(This chair really is uncomfortable though. Severe back pain. Gah.)

Music: Don't carry it all - The Decemberists