A royally good piece of cake

My royal wedding treat

Last day at work

Today was my last day at work.

Goodbyes are not something that I handle well. In fact, despite my somewhat hard exterior, deep down I’m a big fat sook. Movies, weddings, leaving a job, saying goodbye to people. I’m absolutely useless.

It’s embarrassing sitting at your disk with a red snotty nose and red puffy eyes, tears streaming down your face. But here’s the thing, whether it’s your last day of work, your parents dropping you at the airport, or saying goodbye to a romance on the banks of the Thames – no matter what the circumstances, it is very, very hard to say goodbye to people you love, not knowing when or if you’ll see them again.

So apologies for the tears, but the fact is, I’ll miss you guys dammit.

Counting the sleeps

When we are younger, we eagerly count down the sleeps until Christmas, Birthdays, Easter etc. And why not? They are exciting events and worth looking forward to!

But as we get older, we stop.  I’m not sure why, but I think it adds to the excitement. I love knowing that when I go to bed tonight and wake up tomorrow, I'll be one day closer.

I’m so excited that I’m nearly peeing my pants, and raised eyebrows be damned, I’ll count down the sleeps if I want.

3 = the number of sleeps until work is finished and I am officially unemployed

9 = the number of sleeps left until I fly off on my new adventure on the other side of the world

17 = the number of sleeps left until a very special reunion

In the world of emoticons, I’m colon + capital d. :D

Packing Conversations #2

Ma: Your not keeping that are you?

Me: This is my sexy Dorothy outfit from The Vale’s “What did you want to be when you grew up party”

Ma: raises eyebrows

Me: You never know when fancy dress will come in handy

Ma: raises eyebrows

Ma: What is that on it?

Me: Hmmm. Jack Daniels stains most likely.

Ma: shakes head in dismay

Verdict: Op Shop it is. 

Packing Conversations

Ma: Your not keeping that are you?

Me: Of course I am! It’s my beer drinking hat

Ma: raises eyebrows

Me: It’s from Oktoberfest! From the greatest week of my life!

Ma: raises eyebrows

Me: It’s a proper German beer hat! I paid 20 Euros for it!

Ma: Well that was money well spent

Me: puts German Beer Hat on and proceed to wear it whilst packing for the rest of the morning in protest

Verdict: Keep forever and ever 

Lest We Forget

Anzac Day has once again rolled around and with it’s unfortunate clash with Easter I feel it has lost some of the recognition that it deserves. For example, whilst out shopping on Saturday with my Ma, do you think I saw one legacy stand selling poppies? Do you think I saw anyone wearing one? No. All I saw was Easter Bunnies, and people carrying mountains of chocolate (and some of them REALLY didn’t need it)

As I've blogged about the Anzac’s before and what this day means to me, today I’ll just leave you with this this…

And when the sun goes down, and in the morning, we will remember them. Lest We Forget.

Lent

This year I gave up chocolate for Lent. Partly for diet reasons, partly to prove that I could and partly because even though I turned my back on the “new” churches many years ago, I like to observe some traditions of faith.

I have an ongoing disagreement with one of my colleagues about this. When I mentioned that I was giving up chocolate for Lent there was much admonishment bla bla bla. Which I find frustrating on a variety of levels. For starters, it is inappropriate to talk about religion in the workplace. But more importantly, it is frustrating because I have never, told someone they were an idiot, or judged them, because their faith, or lack of faith is different to mine.

I don’t care whether you are an Athiest, Muslim, Catholic, Protestant, Jew or Buddhist (although never trust a vegetarian). Everyone has their own beliefs, no matter what they are. And whilst religion as a whole bothers me, and I know very well that The Bible, whilst having some (and I stress some) historical truth is really just an awesome story, nothing will shake my faith that God, in some form or another, is out there watching over us.

Because really, to go through life knowing that this is it? Without any mystery? That there is nothing happening when you die? No thank you.  

Time for a change

You may notice something a bit different about Secret Life of Ginger. 

As I am about to embark a new chapter of my life, turning over a new leaf, taking the road less travelled, seizing the day, or whichever overused cliché you prefer to insert here, I thought it was time for a change.

My new look blog (and coincidentally, my new adventure) has got the seal of approval from regular reader Mrs N, so I'm going to give it a whirl for awhile.

xoxox

Standing in line

Something strange happened to me today. 

I was standing in line at the post office today with one of my colleagues, waiting to post eBay sales, having a disagreement (He likes to think he knows everything, therefore we disagree a lot). All of a sudden, halfway through conversation, the lady behind us interjected with "You are very entertaining". 

Thrown, we both descended into an awkward silence.  

Is it just me, or is it rather strange to interrupt someone else's conversation to tell them that they are amusing? I can't quite figure out whether it is incredibly rude, or if it is just a stranger making polite conversation. 

Either way, she effectively put an end to an argument that would have carried on for most of the afternoon. 

Evil Phone.

It happened again. Something I have no control over whatsoever.

Every time I have a few drinks (or in this case MANY drinks) my fingers get a mind of their own.

There are some days I really really wish that my phone had a breathaliser. I know that you can get applications on some phones that stops you calling people after a certain time, but this is not something that I would ever do, mainly because I am the sort of person to think “But what if there is an emergency??”.

Today I read some of my sent items from last Friday night, and quite frankly, I felt slightly ill.

Drunkenly texting out something that looks along the lines of I miss you (but can’t be quite sure because of the atrocious spelling) and then apologising for it (also incoherently) about 15 times is not the way to a mans heart.

This is a nasty habit that I thought I had kicked.

Apparently not.

Skype

Recently, Skype has become my new best friend.

Being apart from the people you adore is that much easier when you can see them from 16.524 kilometres away. 

In fact it's rather awesome to spend 45 minutes curled up in bed with someone, just chatting about crap. Even if they are wearing a call centre headset.

Bless.

Last night.

This morning I have wallowed in self pity as my hungover self tries to regain normal human function.

But what a surprisingly epic and fun night. In fact, I could not have asked for a better send-off from my colleagues, complete with Australian food package from Mrs N (In my hungover state I am devouring the Twisties).

A night out with Meat Loaf blazing, a bottle of vodka and awesome company is a very good night indeed.

Goodbyes

I don’t do goodbyes.

Those who are close to me know very well that I don’t cope with them. The thought of saying goodbye to the people I love is making me well up just writing this.

I turn into a puffy, snivelling, blotchy mess, incapable of straining together a coherent sentence.

Because it’s hard. Extremely hard to hug someone that you love and know you’re not going to see them again for a very long time.

So, if you are reading this and get offended that I don’t come and see you before I leave, don’t take it personally.

Chances are I will have just quietly and sneakily left.

3 weeks to go

Moving to another country requires much preparation.  Having been super organised my entire life I’ve never been particularly stressed about big events like this.

However, much to my shock I realised today that there is only 3 weeks left before I move countries. For the first time in my life, I’m not ready.

My clothes need to be sorted, washed and packed. I need to discontinue mail. I need to pack up my books, photos, belongings and 27.5 years of random crap that I have accumulated.

Throw in the obligatory catch-up with friends and I barely have enough time to scratch my bum.

Which is why it is inexcusable that I’ve spent the better part of the evening watching Scrubs, skyping, and reading trashy celebrity gossip.

Where we come from

I feel blessed to have had amazing Grandparents in my life.

Sure, my maternal Grandmother was a bit crazy, but to be fair, all the women on that side of the family are. And my paternal Grandmother (who is actually my step-Grandmother) constantly tries to feed me, but that is part of her culture.

I recently have spend some time conversing a lot with my remaining Grandparents because I know that they are not going to be around much longer, and they are full of such interesting stories and knowledge. 

For example I never knew that if you put the drippings from your roast in the fridge, you can scrape the fat off before you turn it into delicious home-made gravy, until Nanna told me.

My Granny’s recipe for steamed pudding is so mouth-watering and I’m happy I took the time to learn it before she passed away, because I’ll be able to make it for my grandchildren one day.

I adore hearing stories from my Grampy about England before the war, and his war story. And this time, I am going to go and visit our family house in Wood Green that he has been talking about for as long as I can remember. Not because it means something to me, but because it means something to him.

It’s not pleasant thinking about too hard, in fact I have tears welling as I write this, but I’ll really miss my Granny & Pa, and I’ll miss my Grampy and Nanna when they go.

xxx

Going Home

It is a truth universally acknowledged that there comes a time in every girls life when she must make a life changing follow-your-heart decision.

And recently, this time came for me. And for once, I decided to just do it.

Therefore, in a few short weeks I’m packing up my bags, getting on a plane and winging my way back to London, the city where my heart is.

I’m not sure what came over me, because first and foremost I am a remarkably sensible girl.  But the promise of a new life and new adventures was just too alluring for this 27 year old to resist.

So in one short month I’ll be changing my current location on Facebook to London England. And awaiting me is a UK Summer with promises of booze, new friends, old friends (the best kind) and a couple more earth-shattering orgasms.

I can’t wait.