My life. What is it.

Here, have this handy gif to illustrate my feelings.

From my heart to your distress

Here, in the dark, I cherish the moonlight
I'm in love with the way you're in love with the night
And it travels from heart, to limb, to pen

Music: Handwritten - 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

Sullen load is full

I tell my love to wreck it all
cut out all the ropes and let me fall
my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
right in the moment this order’s tall

I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
in the morning I’ll be with you
but it will be a different “kind”
I’ll be holding all the tickets
and you’ll be owning all the fines

now all your love is wasted?
then who the hell was I?
now I’m breaking at the britches
and at the end of all your lines
who will love you?
who will fight?
who will fall far behind?

Music: Skinny love - Bon Iver

Over it

I had the most trying day today. My useless housemate has never been outside Wimbledon/Earlsfield and I was so horrified by this that I agreed to take him to Camden. What followed was the most tedious, dull day of my life. It was just a ginormous waste of time and he is such. hard. work. And a complete narrow-minded, contrary twat. UGH.

I am so sick of all my housemates. I feel like I'm going to snap and murder them all in their sleep with the dirty cutlery they refuse to wash.

Music: The Thick of It (Malcolm knows my rage)

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

Places of power

'It's perfectly simple,' said Wednesday. 'In other countries, over the years, people recognized the places of power. Sometimes it would be a natural formation, sometimes, it would just be a place that was, somehow, special. They knew that something important was happening there, that there was some focusing point, some channel, some window to the Immanent. And so they would build temples, or cathedrals, or erect stone circles, or... well, you get the idea.'

'There are churches all across the States, though,' said Shadow.

'In every town. Sometimes on every block. And about as significant, in this context, as dentists' offices. No, in the USA, people still get the call, or some of them, and they feel themselves being called to from the transcendent void, and they respond to it by building a model out of beer bottles of somewhere they've never visited, or by erecting a gigantic bat-house in some part of the country that bats have traditionally declined to visit. Roadside attractions: people feel themselves being pulled to places where, in other parts of the world, they would recognize that part of themselves that is truly transcendent, and buy a hot dog and walk around, feeling satisfied on a level they cannot truly describe, and profoundly dissatisfied on a level beneath that.'

- American Gods, Neil Gaiman p129

I love this book so much. Big thanks to Lizzie for lending me her copy.

Music: Paralympic Swimming

That is the problem

Chase the wind and touch the sky

Aaaaah! This morning I got the proof for the Venice article I wrote about Carnevale and I am so thrilled with it. I'm sort of surprised by my reaction as it's not like it's the first time I've been published, but I can't stop grinning over it. The layout looks so pretty and it's four pages of my photos! I think that's the thing that makes this different - my photography is being showcased as well. Also, as I'm not the one working on the magazine, I didn't have to do the copy edits or any of the annoying fiddly bits that go into putting an issue together. So it's all the rush and none of the annoyance!

So yes. I am very pleased. Who knows, maybe I'll manage to have a crack at being a travel writer after all.

Music: Nevermind the Buzzcocks

Ain’t it just like the present, to be showing up like this

Homesickness set in this month. Although I’m not entirely sure if ‘homesickness’ is the right word for it. I’ve been homesick before – when we first moved to Australia, I struggled a lot with letting go. It resulted in depressive episodes where all I wanted to do was sleep and ‘home’ was a weight, dragging me down ever further.

This feeling I have now…it’s different. It’s like a song being played in an empty auditorium, the final note hanging in the air long after playing has ceased. The echoes of home lingers in my blood, sings through my veins in a longing that is practically magnetic – pulling me back to where I belong.

That is not to say I don’t like London, I do. Especially in moments like the one I had on Tuesday night after I attended the production of Henry V at the Globe Theatre. Walking back to Waterloo station along South Bank was perfection – a balmy summer night with the city all lit up on the banks of the river, it was magical. In moments like those, moments I mostly experience here when I am near the river, I love this city. I love everything it is, its complications and contradictions. All its history and all its pride. It’s flawed and it’s beautiful.

But it was also in that moment that I realised that it wasn’t enough. I love London, but not as much as I miss home.

In comparison, Sydney may lack many things. It’s so much smaller, so much less sophisticated. Its history is negligible, its culture practically insignificant next to a force like London. We don’t have the same level of access to music, fashion, art. We are miles away from anything, no quick trip to Paris for the weekend for us.

But god how I miss it.

I miss the summer. I miss lying in my hammock in the garden, reading and slowly melting. I miss the incessant noise of the cicadas. I miss being able to go to the beach whenever I feel like it, and the feeling of sand between my toes. I miss driving. The late nights speeding along the M5 home, blasting my music way too loudly. And the bush, the smell of eucalyptus heavy in the air. I miss the blistering heat, the humidity that makes moving too much effort and how I’d spend those days on the couch with dad just watching Top Gear. Those days when you think you’ll spontaneously catch fire just by stepping outside. And though it’s kind of wrong, I miss the smell of smoke, blowing in from some bushfire somewhere.

I miss the extremity of nature. The ups and the downs. And I miss the city. I miss catching the train to Town Hall simply because I miss emerging from the tunnel at Circular Quay and seeing the harbour glittering in the sunshine - the way the sun plays across the water and the wind catches the flags on the Harbour Bridge. I miss that feeling I used to get whenever I emerged from that tunnel, that weird swell of pride because, damn, it’s a beautiful city.

And I miss my family. I miss joking around with my dad, though he often drives me insane. I miss the hours-long heart-to-hearts with my mum – Skype is just not quite the same. I miss my dog, oh so much more than I can even explain. I miss going for walks around the lake every evening. I miss just lying in bed with Oreo curled up beside me. I miss her happiness at seeing me whenever I get home. I guess I miss feeling that wanted and needed and loved all the time. And completely superficially, I miss my room, my wardrobe, my books, my dvds, my study, my graphics tablet, my theory notes.

I’ve learnt a lot about myself these past seven months I’ve been gone. As one would expect from travelling, and from being away from home. I’ve learnt that I am a lot more self-sufficient than I anticipated, that I can cope with sharing space with other people a lot better than I thought I would. I’ve learned that I’m not a spoilt princess of an only child, that my parents have raised me well-prepared for things. I’ve learned that I can co-habit with a bunch of boys, that I can handle being completely broke, that I can go hungry and not complain, that I can deal with not getting my own way. I’ve learned that all relationships require work and communication, and that if someone can’t show you that you matter to them, they’re not worth your time. I’ve learned that some friendships are superficial and sometimes what I think is communality is really just affectation.

There are other things, of course. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. And I think, overall, I’ve done well and I am quite proud of myself, silly though it may sound.

In that sense, part of me feels like there isn’t really that much for me back home - there are moments when I don’t want to leave here at all, but in the same turn I don’t really feel like there is much for me here either. I’ve done a lot of self-reflection over the past week and it simply comes down to what I want out of life.

You’d think at almost 25 I would have sorted this out by now, but I haven’t. Though I do I feel like I have gotten closer this year. In basic terms, there are two things I want:

1. A PhD
2. To travel to world

And maybe somehow, somewhere along the way, I’ll finally be able to write something that matters to someone. This may seem simplistic, and perhaps that’s true, but it is what it is. You might say it’s being naively whimsical – everyone wants to travel, but it isn’t practical. And that is the crux of my ambition. So-called normality holds no appeal for me. Nothing I say or do is a reflection on anyone else’s life choices; it’s just that it isn’t the right fit for me. That’s all.

And people may scoff and dismiss it as nothing, but I’ve always been acutely self-aware and I know in my heart, more certain after this year than I’ve ever been before, that there will be no happiness for me in convention. And isn’t that what life is supposed to be, “the pursuit of happiness”?

It’s sort of terrifying to make the decision to follow this path, to commit to it (Fuck Plan B as Amanda Palmer would say) but I feel like I’m finally strong enough for it. And the fear, the hollow feeling in my stomach that comes from knowing that no one (except my mum) understands, is just something I need to stare down. Because fear cannot rule your life.

So having come to this realisation, I had to ask myself where I need to be…and it’s not here. As much as I enjoy London, as I enjoy being close to people who are important to me, this is not where my destiny is.

Yes, yes, I know it sounds absolutely fucking ridiculous. Destiny. Talk about sounding delusional…not to mention conceited. But bear with me here, cause it’s hard to put words to the chasing of a shadow. I know, I know, there is something out there for me, I just need to allow myself to find it. Happiness, not boredom or submission.

So it makes sense to pursue the first of my goals – a PhD. I can’t stay here, can’t put it off for a year, because the longer I put it off the less likely it is to happen. Life has a way of sweeping us along after all, and time is going alarming quickly for me these days. No, I’d like a PhD before I’m 30. That would be good. And it would be better if I could study in New Zealand because another thing I’ve learned about myself this year is that I’m not really a city girl at all, not the way I thought I was.

My life has sort of emptied out this year but in some strange way it’s also become more defined. And it’s not going to be easy, but I feel like I have to try.

Music: Blood bank - Bon Iver