Shower Madness

So as all of my housemates should know by now, I find it almost impossible to shower without music.

I've had this strange little habit for a while.  My Mum got so annoyed at me at one point for having a huge extension cable running from my room to the bathroom just so I could listen to the spice girls in the shower that she brought me a shower radio for Christmas one year.  It was shaped like a penguin and was glorious.

I digress.

So every time I have a shower, I load my spotify app and choose a genre in which I would enjoy getting clean to.

With my current obsession being what it is lately, my shower time has been very 50s.

I call it the shower shuffle (because I just push shuffle - lets keep it clean <------ BAD PUN!)

Anyway there is a 50s tune called Duke Of Earl - Gene Chandler  that came on during my latest shower shuffle.

Now any 20+ year old Aussie would be familiar with a 90s commercial for shampoo in Australia.  Set to the tune of this 50s classic.  So what else could I do but recreate the commercial.




It wasn't a pretty sight.

Things to look out for in the video.

A woman making very suggestive hand gestures to a shampoo bottle
Some killer 90's hairstyles
Glorious bathroom dancing
Amazing hair flicking

Oh god I need help!

Aussie Out
xo

Please note : No shampoo bottles were harmed in the making of this blog post!

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The Aussie Traveler Cliché

Job hunting sucks.

Having to leave my job that I had to be able to go home for Christmas, I was stuck with the horribly annoying task of having to find a new job upon my return to London.

So it was only natural for me to then partake in the great Australian tradition of pub work.

I applied to work at a local pub that I had never stepped stepped into - I was a shoe-in.

What a surprise when my phone rang a couple of days later, asking me to come in for a trial.

I have never worked in a pub before.  I have however, spent a great deal of my life drinking in them, so with no confidence what so ever, and a killer hangover from all the cheap wine I had consumed the night before, #yolo, I walked in and hoped for the best.

I figured I wasn't off to the best start when I almost fell down the stairs to the cellar to leave my stuff.  Not an exaggeration by the way.  I have a habit of falling down the stairs, but i'll save that gem of a story for another time.

So once I got back up to the bar, I let the guy know the great news. 

I KNOW NOTHING!

The poor guy tried to explain everything to me.  But with the rugby playing, the pub was loud and busy, so I was kind of left to get on with it.

"Can I get an an Amstel with a top"

"Can I get a Fosters with lime"

"1 cappuccino please"

Oh My God!

So I quickly learnt that any time someone orders something with a top, it means add lemonade.

Add lime cordial to the fosters, not an actual lime!

And anyone who orders coffee in a bar can go to hell!

I spent an awful lot of my trial not knowing what to do.  How to pour a pint correctly.  And for the love of God, what glass do I use.

I did start getting the hang of it.  I totally poured a pint of Guinness like a boss!

I don't know why I didn't clue in that people would be drunk at a pub.  That's where I met Marco.  He was staring at me while I was behind the bar, so I checked that he had been served which he had been.  But then he quickly asked me if I would hang out with him at his house after my shift.

Let me just paint you guys a picture of Marco.  He had long greasy curly hair, round purple tinted sunglasses on- INSIDE - and a sleazy disposition.  Sort yourself out Marco.

So you can understand why I tried to be as nice as I could by making an excuse and walking away.

What I didn't realise was that he was sticking around in the pub and as I finished my trial ( it went alright by the end of it, so we shall have to see) Marco followed me out of the pub and started following me.

So I called Charlotte as we were planning to meet up.  However as I stopped walking, Marco stopped walking.  So there was no way of telling her "Yes I know we are 10 minutes away from each other but I think I am going to get raped" in any code that wouldn't be obvious.

So as I hung up the phone, he started talking to me again.

"What are you doing now"

"What are your plans for tonight"

"I like your hair colour.  Would you say its red?"

"This housemate you are meeting, is she a he or is he a she?"

Thankfully as I got to the station, I saw Charlotte and gave her the OH GOD PLEASE HELP ME eyes.

Marco looked as though he had hit the jackpot now that there was 2 of us.  When Charlotte asked him what his plans were for the night, he replied with "something fun, you girls are going to join me"

Thankfully Charlotte gave us a great excuse about friends coming over so there was no chance of anything "fun" with Marco.  We made a swift get away in the hopes of never having to see him again.

So all in all, I did enjoy working in a pub.  Quite stressful when you don't know what you are doing, but if I get the job, hopefully I can pick it up quickly.  That and try very hard not to become an alcoholic.

Aussie Out

xo

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Dealing with negative people

Two posts in one day?  Read on and see why!

I'd like to think that I'm a nice person.... 95% of the time.  I'm not perfect.  Nobody is.  But would I ever turn to the internet with the purpose of trying to make someone else feel bad?  Never!  Especially without a hilarious meme. Amateurs!

If only the rest of the world could be the same.

I received a comment on a recent post about a guy.  The comment has been deleted as the only negativity on my blog will come from me about my sad sad life choices.  I'm not going to name names or point fingers, but I am going to go through this comment, and nitpick at it until I get bored.

So here we go... dealing with negativity the Sam way!

"You really don't do yourself any favours, what with your clothes than are covered with dog hair, awful accent, and when you open your mouth you show more gum than a hubba bubba factory. course he's not interested as you are "too awesome" LOL "

Ok kids, lets break it down!

1. My clothes are covered in dog hair

I LOVE dogs.  Anybody who knows me, knows that is no secret.  I have dog PJS (more than 1 pair actually) and my favourite mug is my jack russell dog mug that I got for Christmas from Charlotte.  The main reason I moved into my house that I live in now, was because they had a dog.  HAD!  This dog moved out back in September last year.  So if I am covered with dog hair, I'm annoyed cos I don't even get the fun of playing with and cuddling with any dogs.

Do you have any other animals though Sam?  I do.  What a silly mistake this person has made.  I live with 2 rabbits aswell.  They live outside and I have nothing to do with them.  Nope not rabbit hair.  I've got it!  All the hair that all my clothes are apparently covered with must be coming from the 2 cats that I live with.  I mean the cats and I have a mutual disliking of each other so we stay out of each others way, but now I'm convinced that while I'm not at home, they plot against me by opening my door and rubbing themselves against all my clothes.  Charlotte, you must have words with your cats and tell them not to do this anymore.  It makes strangers on the internet upset.  Thanks :)

NEXT

2. My awful accent

Oh how upsetting.  I moved to the other side of the world because I love my accent SO much.  Jokes.  I am well aware by how annoying the Australian accent is, and I shall make no excuses that I don't sound any different to any annoying Aussie.  This is why I surround myself with lovely British, Irish and Scottish accents to make up for my lack of lovely sounds that come out of my mouth.  But I mean, you missed a great opportunity here.  I know you don't know me, but for future insults, I also say some REALLY stupid things with my stupid accent.  Ask my friends, they can tell you!

NEXT

3. I have gums

All the better to hold my teeth in my dear.  But ok I'll give you this one.  Because believe it or not, I have looked at myself in the mirror and know that I have a gummy smile.  Not my favourite feature about myself, but beggars can't be choosers now.  I would also like to point out that I have tiny teeth (and little hands but hey thats off topic).  Doesn't help the gum issue, but it cuts down on the teeth brushing time so who is the real winner here?  I do believe its me, and my healthy teeth (says the dentist anyway.)

However, if any representatives from Hubba Bubba would like to talk to me about me doing some ads for them, feel free to contact me - I do love me some Hubba Bubba!

After I told Charlotte about this comment, she was as shocked as I was that 2 very important things weren't brought up.

I'm short! 5'3.  That's a pretty easy thing to pick on.  And I am also....

GINGER!

But hey if you can find a red head insult that I haven't heard growing up, i'll be impressed.

So well done keyboard warrior, I am now convinced more than ever, that my blog is officially a success!  Enjoy your life, cos I really enjoy my gummy, annoying voiced life.  Now someone find me dog to cuddle!

Aussie Out
xo

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Banana Bread Baking!

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In honour of my very 50s lifestyle, I've been doing a spot of baking!

So armed with some old bananas and a killer 50s soundtrack, it was banana bread a go-go!

Ingredients

140 grams of unsalted butter (at room temp)

140 grams of caster sugar

2 large eggs

140 grams self - raising flour

1 tablespoon of baking powder

2 over ripped bananas (mashed)

Pre-head your oven to 180 degrees Celsius.  

Lightly grease your load tin.

Cream the butter and sugar until it is light and fluffy, then slowly add the eggs with a little flour.  Fold in the remaining flour, baking powder and bananas. Pour into the tin and bake for about 30 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean when inserted in the middle.  

Cool in the tin for 10 minutes then move to a wire rack.

The best thing about banana bread other than using up old bananas, is you can toast it, add some butter and its perfect for morning tea ( or a cheeky naughty snack)

Enjoy

Aussie Out

xo

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Valentine Smalentine!

Saturday isn't meant to hurt (unless the night before consisted of alcohol, kebabs and bad choices.)

So instead of spending this Valentines day, or as the single gal in me likes to call it - Saturday, surrounded in chocolates, teddy bears and flowers, I shall surround myself in memories of why I'm still single.

And what better way to start then to update you all on my Winter Christmas Boyfriend.

Wine and Tissues at the ready : Here we go.

So while I was living it up in the sun at home, I was receiving almost daily messages from the *boy.  Lovely messages about making plans to meet up again once I was back in London.  Filled with compliments and messages saying that he "like likes me" I was done for.

On my return, we still messaged each other.  Not as often, but I was telling myself he was messaging me late at night London time while I was away and due to jet lag, I was in bed by 9 (So Cool!)

Slowly the messages started dwindling out.

Then one night while I was out with my old work friends, I did something horrible.

I wish I had a good excuse to why I did it.  

I was drunk? 

I was emotional? 

I was lonely?  

..... I have no excuse!

I sent a drunk text!

 I'm not a drunk texter.  I don't make drunk calls.  So what was going on in my head is something that the wine, and some part of my brain that is choosing to not remember, knows.

Without quoting word for word, it was on the lines of saying I miss you and wished he was here to keep me company (bow chicka wow wow)

He replied the next morning.

"Lol"

....... ahhh what?

How could anybody think that my drunk advances should be replied to with Lol?

I was embarrassed and angry, not a good combo.  So I didn't reply in the hopes that he would message me again and see the error of his ways.

A couple of silent weeks later, he sent me a message saying he forgot to ask me how I enjoyed the recent snow in London.  He was back to being sweet and telling me that I "rocked his world" BOO YEAH! Single guys form a line!

So he was asking about how I was doing and as I am between jobs at the moment, I told him I was bored but waiting to hear back from a job.  His response.

"Lol"

....... Seriously? What the hell?

Since this recent LOL-athon, it has been silent on all fronts.  Note I did reply to the Lol, he has seen it and hasn't replied.

I think that this marks the end of the winter Christmas boyfriend.  

Until he wants to call or message me again and mess with my emotions some more.

So screw you Valentines day!

Sam needs chocolate and wine.... STAT!!

Aussie Out

xo

*I am now calling him the boy because that is how he is choosing to act.

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Traumatic Tinder Tale

Everyone else was doing it.... right?

I wish I could say that was the reason why I downloaded Tinder.

I think it was more on the level of I was out drinking wine, pretending to be sophisticated, when downloading tinder seemed like an amazing idea.

Sure it was fun for a while.

Sure it gave you a little ego boost when you swipe right for someone you are convinced are out of your league and the screen changes "You have a match."

It was all a bit of fun until you actually agreed to go out on a date.

Lets just call him J.

J lived near me, and we sent messages back and forth for a while.  He seemed nice.  We had a lot in common.  So when he asked me out to a local pub, I nervously agreed.

Just putting it out there how bad I am with guys.  If I like someone, I can't talk to them.  I get all shy and pathetic, so the thought of hanging out with a complete stranger terrified me.

So to try and put me at ease, Charlotte agreed to be my spy (because when you have an overactive imagination - tinder guy could always be a serial killer.)

So I walked down to the pub - late #standard - and there he was.  Nothing like his photo, but with the prospect of getting a free drink out of the deal, we went inside.

The conversation flowed.  This was the main warning sign that showed that I was not interested.  He was a lovely guy and I'm sure we could of become friends but alas that didn't happen. #spoileralert

As the night went on, and he kept buying me more and more drinks, it became harder and harder not to laugh as Charlotte would stand up and wave at me if I looked in her direction.  At one point she walked past my table in the direction of the toilets with a "come to the toilets now" kind of look.

As I excused myself, I met Charlotte in the toilets to a huge "NO!"

While I agreed with her that he was just not my type, I was hugely alarmed by the fact that Charlotte was watching him go to the bar to get our drinks.  While he was ordering me doubles, he was sticking to soft drinks and juice (while telling me that he was drinking vodka) WARNING WARNING!

So I went back to our table and we agreed that it was best to call it a night.  We lived in the same direction so we started walking together.

When it came time to part ways, he went in for the kiss, I quickly turned my head, gave him a hug and then ordered him to turn around and walk away so he wouldn't see which street I walked up. All about the trust.

He did end up messaging me a couple of days later saying he had a great time and wanted to hang out again.  I was never so grateful for working night shifts that week and having an excuse to give him.

I have heard nothing more from dear J.  So thanks for all the double vodkas and large wines strange tinder man, may I never see you in my area ever!

Tinder has left me with a bad experience that I'm pretty sure I could never get over.


Consider it deleted!

Aussie Out
xo

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My Current Obsession

So I warned Charlotte that the closer it gets to my birthday (April.. feel free to stay away), the more crazy I get.

It only started when I started seeing the wrong side of 25.

As soon as my birthday approaches, I am convinced that I am wasting my life away and henceforth need to change everything about my life.

This year, I think it might be necessary to commit me to a home.  As I am now almost fully convinced that I want to live in the 1950s.

I've always felt like I was born in the wrong era, and my friends have always called me an old soul, but I think I might be taking things a step too far.

I know logically, there is no possible way for me to live in the 50s, but I cannot seem to get the idea out of my mind.

It seems like such a simpler lifestyle.  No phones, no internet, no judgemental looks when you take out your knitting on public transport - all things I'm pretty sure I can do without.

So what brought on this case of insanity?

Could it be that one of my favourite songs is Moon River - Andy Williams. 

No!

Could it be that back home I have a wonderful vinyl collection which includes all Beatles albums?

Not a chance!

How about my love of sewing and knitting/crochet?

Surely Not!

Why it is because I have started watching Call The Midwife?

You bet your bottom dollar!

A show based on the memoirs of a midwife Jennifer Worth back in the 1950s in the East End, London.  It's so beautifully shot and the outfits are amazing.  Not a booty short in sight, it was a world where woman in beautiful dresses were considered sexy.  Where gentlemen existed and weren't just a figment of our imaginations.

Where the music was honest, and not talking about "shawtys in the club" but asked a more simple question.  "Why do fools fall in love?"

Where instead of slut drops and grinding, waltzing was the norm.

So with my poor housemates not standing a chance, they are now forced to put up with 50s music blasting from the kitchen while I bake and crochet on the sofa.  Am I sorry?  Not for a second!  Do I hope this phrase passes quickly?  Perhaps its for the best.

But will I ever stop loving Moon River?

 No

Will I ever stop collecting vinyl? 

Not a chance

Will I ever stop sewing and knitting? 

Surely not

Will I ever stop watching Call the Midwife?  

Never!

Tickety - Boo

Aussie Out

xo

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