Cockfosters.

London has some real good place names but Cockfosters is probably my favourite. It's totally a name I would have taken any opportunity to say when I was about 10, because it's like you're swearing but you're allowed because it's a real place, you know? I'm all about getting around rules. Like how I used to listen to Alanis Morrisette real loud at home mostly because I could get away with shouting 'Chickenshit and "Are you thinking of me when you FUCK her" and not get in trouble because I was just singing along with the song. Pretty sneaky.

One time my mum put soap in my mouth just for poking out my tongue so imagine what she would have done for swearing.

Also, why was I listening to such suggestive lyrics at the age of 10???

ANYWAY. I'm in London now! This is the first blog post actually from London!

The last not even week is just kind of a blur of super long plane rides, horrible sickness, giant backpack carrying and sleep. Plus a bit of first day at a new job/meeting people and not remembering their names thrown in.
Right now I am staying at my cousins in Angel/Islington (Just like Monopoly!) and sharing her room/feeling like I'm invading her space.

Yesterday I skyped these lovely ladies:

And then watched while they read Gabs EXCELLENT NZNTM Blog:

Which obviously required much concentration.

I'm pretty bummed not to be at home/sleeping on the couch at Wilson Street, eating Nacho Cheese Doritos and watching the Home and Away Omnibus but I guess it will get better once I have my own space and no longer wake up at 4am every morning.

Family Ties.

So I went to Samoa for a week. It was pretty good. It was hot. I got one sunburnt arm and I even swam one time on this beach:

It was kinda sad driving around this part of the island because you could still see lots of damage from the Tsunami but there seemed to be heaps of tourists around anyway so that's probably good.

We missed our flight home which was a bit worrying as there aren't exactly hundreds of flights leaving every day. Luckily we got on one later that night and the hotel paid because it was entirely their fault.

I really should be packing right now but procrastinating/blog writing/Family Ties watching seems like a much better plan.

It's pretty weird saying goodbye to people and not knowing when/if you will see them again. Plus I'm real good at making it pretty awkward. Voluntarily removing myself from my entire social circle is maybe not the best plan I've ever had.

I'm pretty surprised about some of the story lines on Family Ties. I'm not even half way through the first season and Alex P Keaton has already boned some college chick (he's like 17), the 15 year old sisters friend got pregnant, a close family friend also tried to molest the same sister and Tom Hanks played the mums brother and embezzled millions of dollars from some company he worked for. Obviously the quality of family sitcoms has declined considerably since the 80's.

Odd feelings.

So today was my last day at work, and like, I didn't really care.
I mean people were nice to me and stuff and everyone was all "I'll come stay with you on the other side of the world because, you know, we are both from the same tiny little island/s at the bottom of the world so we will totally be fine with co-habitating in a strange land!" But the thing is, I don't really care if I ever see these people again/I probably wouldn't invite them to sleep on my couch here so why would I want this to happen in London?

Also I'm extremely bad at appropriate reactions to gifts/polite conversations at morning teas thrown in my honour so that part was fun also.

I wonder what it will be like when I get to London and have no friends.
Maybe I will feel like Sting that time he went to New York.



I hope I can pull off the casual umbrella twirl as well as him.

Tomorrow I start to pack up my life.