Cats are not this girls best friend

Charlie is evil... I'm convinced

Before moving into my house I have never been in a house with cats.  The closest I have been is house sitting a place that had 2 cats, but due to a cat flap, all I had to do was to refill the food and water.  Living with 2 cats in London couldn’t be any worse than that right?  WRONG!

So I am gathering together an ever growing list of why I will be forever a dog person.

The horror that started it all.  One of the cats (Charlie) had decided that after being let outside, that the only entrance back into the house was through my room.  And the only appropriate time to want to be let back inside was between the hours of 2am and 5am.  As it was summer at this point, and I had been leaving my window open, this wasn’t a huge problem.  But when I decided to close my window, Charlie then decided to head-butt, meow, and claw at my window until I let him in.  It is now a common occurrence for Charlie to cry at my window, and for me to now roll over and go back to sleep.  

We now have to close our bathroom door.  Why you may be thinking.  One of the cats (the blame is getting put on Charlie) has decided that even though he goes outside, and there is kitty litter in the hall, that he would much prefer to go to the bathroom in the bath.  After a few months of constantly closing the door, we tried leaving the door open once more.  Nope.  It took less than a week for the bath to be stinking up once more.

Speaking of the stink… WOW.  I’ve had dogs pretty much my whole life so I have cleaned up some interesting mess in my lifetime.  At no point have I had to clean up anything that smells as bad as what comes out the wrong end of a cat.  

They don't care where they go to the bathroom.  Well at least the ones that I live with don’t.  If they want to take a dump on our sofa, God help you when you come downstairs in the morning.  If they get locked in a room, prepare yourself when you open your door for a massive pile of poo to be waiting for you.  And just to spite you, if they want to pee on your laptop and duvet, get ready to buy new covers because there is nothing getting rid of that smell (believe me, Thom has tried)

When you add all of that to the evil looks I receive from the top of my stairs when I open the front door and I cannot fathom why anybody would want these creatures with all the attitude and sass in their houses.  Bring back the dog!

Aussie Out

xo

Read On >>>

My London Family

Upon moving to London, one of my main concerns was where on earth am I going to live?

I had no idea about what was a good area and what was bad.  To be honest I still don’t have much of a clue about places and when people tell me where they live I often just accept the fact that I have no idea and just smile and nod my head when they say where they live.

A good friend from home had moved to south London and when I visited her the place seemed to have everything I needed.  A large sainsburys, a wilkos, a primark -  what more could you want.

So the house hunt began.  I headed over to gumtree and searched north London.  I had found and viewed a few places.  One with an overgrown garden and a man telling me that it would be a great place for sunbathing.  I was starting to lose hope.  Then I found a house.  It was the next street away from my friend and the best thing is they had a dog.  I went to view the house and fell in love with the place.  My room is a little bigger than a prison cell but i have made it feel like home.

I’ve never lived with housemates that weren’t family before so I was in for some learning.  The house started with 3 girls, 3 guys, 1 dog, 2 cats and 1 rabbit. The tally is now 4 girls, 1 guy, 2 cats and 2 rabbits.

From pretty much the get go there was a divide in the house.  It was explained to me as day shift and night shift.  Myself and Tom were on the day shift as both of us weren't working and Jacob, Luke were on the night shift.  Charlotte was the middle man who did our change over.  As soon as the night shift came home, the day shift left.  It was like this for a while until Jacob let us know that he was moving out.

Success for the day shift.  We didn’t get along with him and were convinced that him leaving would be the best possible thing in the world.  

It is important to note that there is another female housemate that has been around since I moved in, but she stays in her room so will only be referred to as the mystery housemate.

Once Jacob moved out, we were then introduced to Nicole.  Nicole brought with her a love of photography, festivals and Dave the rabbit (who is a girl).  But most importantly, Nicole brought down the day shift and night shift.  The day shift had now taken over the house!

Charlotte and Luke (the house couple) were starting to look for a house of their own as they had the 2 cats locked in their room, so we had the potential of getting another new house mate.  But what happened instead from Charlotte and Luke broke up, Luke moved out and our house was looking to be a happy haven.

We were all getting along great.  We had huge plans for a 90s themed house party, we watched eurovision together, went to the local pub quiz (team magic for life) but then it all went downhill.

It was a Saturday night and after being awake for 30 something hours, Charlotte dragged me to our semi-local pub.  After pulling up my hood, putting on my sunglasses and falling asleep like a ninja, I decided to come home.  Nobody else was home so I dragged myself up to bed and fell into a well deserved slumber.  At 2:30am the house buzzer went off.  Assuming one of my housemates had forgotten their keys, I stumbled downstairs to let them in.  When I opened the door, 4 strange men (one of whom was 6 foot 7) were at the door asking to be let in.  “We are Toms friends”  

When I asked where Tom was they said he was at the pub, and they would told that I would let them in.  Having never met nor seen these men before, I told them no, but alas they wouldn’t let me shut the door, so being the confident girl I am, I ran upstairs to my room and locked my door hoping that serial killers were not in my house.  The next day when I confronted Tom about it, he didn’t see anything wrong with not telling me that his friends were coming over and he wasn’t  going to be home to let them in.  My day shift alliance was officially over and he turned into the enemy.  

After peer-pressure from Charlotte, Tom gave me the worst apology I have ever heard but being the bigger person, I let it be.

Fast forward a couple of weeks later, 1 drunk Tom and 1 sober me.  I was told that being an Aussie and a girl that I am sexist for being scared about 4 strange men coming to my door, that I am racist (because all Australians are) and that I am a liar (his friends said sorry apparently).  Oh and lets not forget the nail in his coffin, that horrible apology, he didn’t mean it.

Let the war begin.

I now made it my mission to make his life hell.  Playing cheesy music really loud was my personal favourite thing.  It only took a couple of weeks until I got the message from Charlotte that Tom was leaving the house and we had to find a new house mate.

That brings us to the final member of my little house family.  Thom. (Yes we replaced one Tom for another - just spelt differently)  Thom is fantastic and even though he doesn’t live here during the week, makes the weekends all the more fun knowing that our little awesome foursome will be complete on the weekends.

Why are my housemates important?  These guys will feature in blogs and podcasts.  They are also my London family and I wouldn’t be here without them!

Aussie Out

xo

Read On >>>

Shall I stay or shall I go?

So I’m really conflicted at the moment.

Before I left Sydney, I was convinced that my future was in England.  I would move here, find some amazing job, find the love of my life and live happily ever after.  Shock horror, I will soon be unemployed after quitting my job for hating it so much, I am #foreveralone, bonding with cats (shudder) and although I have made some amazing friends, I think that I’ve also left some amazing friends at home.

In making the move, more than once have I thought about packing up my bags and giving up.  Being so far away from home is hard sometimes.  I guess a part of me thought that I would be mourned and thought of like the dead (or at least an evicted housemate from big brother.)

It made it really hard to see everybody go on with their lives.  Yeah I would receive a viber message or a snapchat from family and friends but they got on with it.  I guess that made it harder.

Before leaving I had made a promise to my sister that I would come home for Christmas.  I wanted 1 cold christmas which I did last year but now with the looming thought of going home approaching, I was conflicted.  I haven’t achieved anything here in London.

Messages between my sister and I

I almost wished that I didn’t have to go home so I could get on with it, but still extremely excited to go back and see everybody again (not so excited about the 23 hour flight that awaits me)

So I finally booked my ticket home.  And as soon as I booked my tickets I was sad.  I had such hopes for London and when I have given it the chance, it hasn’t let me down.  I feel like I have let it down.  I am constantly making up excuses about having no money or being tired, when I need to remember that not everybody gets this opportunity.  So now I am thinking.  I have 1 year of my visa left.  Of course I will be coming back to London, I’m almost 100% sure my housemate would kill me if I don’t come back, but will it be for 1 more year?  

I am in the extremely lucky few, that can get dual citizenship, which would cancel any time limit that I have and to really see what this amazing city has in store for me (other than slowly taking away my accent as a visiting friend has so kindly told me.)

I guess time will tell.

Aussie out

xoxo

Read On >>>

A whinging... Aussie?

Throughout the my year of living abroad there has been some things I really miss about home.  Other than the standard family and friends of course.  

I understand that I am living in another country but that something makes it hard to keep my Aussie ways.  Here is a list of things that I fear will change me forever.

 The war between chips and crisps.

I told myself that I would never be one of those people that says crisps.  Its always chips and hot chips.  I have however formed a fondness of saying crisps because it sounds like you have a lisp and that really makes me giggle.  When I go home this is going to be one of the hardest things I’ll have to change and know that I will have to make a conscious effort to call them chips once more.  And a side note, I do not remember the last time I said tomato sauce.  I say ketchup and a little piece of me dies every time I do.

2. Doona or Duvet? That is the question.

Living with the British, I learnt very quickly to say duvet unless I wanted to be greeted with blank stares.  I still sometimes catch myself calling it a doona and I dont see that changing anytime soon.

3. Pounds or Dollars.

When I arrived I was convinced that I would never get used to saying pounds and quid.  Now it sounds foreign when I say dollars.  It has lead to some interested conversations surrounding the popular phrase “ Another day another dollar”  What must the British say if they don't use dollars? “Another round another pound!”  However that stroke of marketing genius hasn’t caught on just yet.

4. Please stand on the right.

I get it London, but do you?  Stand on the right on the escalators.  That’s fine.  But please be consistent.  If you want everyone to stand on the right, than don’t get angry if I am walking down the street on the right side of the footpath while you guys serve in and out of people and then get angry when you get stuck behind somebody slow.  This has lead me to becoming one of those people that gets angry when people aren’t standing on the right so my journeys are filled with sighs, tuts and eye rolls that I was told makes me a true Londoner.

5. Tube Trauma 

I get it London.  We all have things to do and people to see, but shoving yourself into a tiny carriage to the point that you are hugging the man in front of you because you cannot wait 2 minutes for the next train is beyond annoying.  There is no such thing as person space on public transport and every day I mourn the lost of my car which is waiting for me at home and I can only dream misses me as much as I her * Don’t think I’m crazy.  Just know that I am*

6.  I am Australian!

I’m not a criminal.

I don’t put shrimp on the barbie

I don’t wear a cork hat

I don’t ride a kangaroo around the town.

But most importantly London, even though I say somethings to make every day life easier, there is no changing that I am a true blue Aussie… and bloody proud!

Read On >>>

The start of something new

I shouldn't be scared.

I should be this confident creature.

After all, i've moved over to the other side of the world by myself.

I think it's best if I explain this from the start.

7 or so years ago I applied for a job at a theme park.  It started off as a joke from my sister who sent me the application as a joke. "You can be a carnie!" So I applied.  I was never one of those people who always knew what they wanted to do.  I loved music, I loved movies.  Not really a career when I can't sing/play an instrument or act to save my life.  I was always in a black hole.  Everyone around me went off to uni and I was lost.

So I went to my interview as a joke.  A joke that as it turns out, lasted 6 and a bit years.

"Don't make this your career Sam" I can still hear my Mum saying to me.  But I was comfortable.  I had met some of my best friends and it was a place I could be silly and come out of my shell.  People always used to tell me that I sounded great over the microphone but I never really thought anything about it.  I was more concerned in making people laugh (which is still high up on my to do list every day)

Fast forward a few years, I was on a tour of Europe and struggling to get along with people in my tour group, when one guy said something to me.

"You have a great speaking voice."

I've been hearing this for years but that was from my friends and co-workers.  Here was this guy that I had known for 4 days at this point to say something like to me.  So I had to do something about it.

Radio.  How could I have been so stupid.  I have wasted so much of my life in a job that was so much fun but couldn't be my career for my mothers state of mind.  So I did a short course and fell in love with it.  It was the one thing I was actually excited about doing.  Thinking up stories and being creative about interviews.  Everything about it.  So to completely change my life I quit my job and moved to the other side of the world.  Who would love a token Aussie in London?  It would be easy to get a job in radio right?  Wrong!

So I slipped straight back into a customer service job that I would of loved before I found my passion for radio, but now I just dread because every time I am there means less time I could be learning about radio.

So now here I am.  A year anniversary for being in London and thanks to a friend an idea has been implanted in my mind.  PODCASTS!!  I am currently working on my first few podcasts that will be made available to download on itunes eventually.  I will blog a lot more (without being forced by my housemate to do so) and just get myself out there in social media all together ( YouTube eventually when I get over the fact that I hate looking at myself)

So stay tuned because my voice will be coming to a speaker near you

Aussie Out!
xo

Read On >>>