Haircuts, The Queen and other stories.

Today I got a haircut and I realised that the last time I did this was the day I went to The Queen's Garden Party and I had intended to blog about that at some point.

I know, this seems unlikely given that I don't think I've blogged since March (just checked, it was in fact March) but I always think "I should blog" until I realise that I haven't done anything of note ever and put it off until after something in the future that I think will be blogworthy. The Garden Party was one of these things. Also Ireland trip with parents.

And so, here we are. I am going to attempt to blog about these things! Lucky you! Also, I am going to see how many times I can use a variation of the word blog in this blog post on blogger. I will be able to tell fairly easily because google chrome does not recognise Blog as a real word. Not even if you capitalise it.

I think mostly people get to go to these things as some kind of reward for community service or soemthing? I don't know but basically I got tickets to have tea with The Queen because I put my name in a hat at work and won. I always win things I don't want/that will cause me pain or anxiety. One time I won a bike from the Candy Bar at Hoyts Manners Mall by spending heaps or something. It turned into this giant thing because I think I spent the money in combination with my friend and then we couldn't exactly share a bike and when we tried to sell it no one would buy it. It turned into some giant drama as everything does when you're like 11 and my parents ended up having to buy the other people out or something? I don't remember but I did end up with a bike and it did cost them money.
Mostly I didn't want to have tea at Buckingham Palace because I like to wear jeans and tshirts and very rarely wear fascinators. Also heels. But it was Amelia's birthday and as she likes to dress like a lady and because her visa expires in September I didn't have a whole year to get over my childishness I sucked it up and put a stupid headband thing on my head!

Here we are in the cab excited/terrified.

Waiting to go in, still unconvinced.

Illegal photo on the lawn, been standing in the sun for about 3 hours by this point,
feet too sore to be embarrassed.

It really didn't turn out to be as big a deal as I had decided it was going to be in my head. I ate some sweet pastries and got a glimpse of The Queen as she ran past us into the royal tea tent. Seriously, she's real speedy for an old lady.

Speaking of Liz, there was heaps of stuff going on for her jubilee celebrations but London being London it was also raining all of the time. Consequently I didn't go stand outside anywhere and wave a flag, I just watched it on the teevee.
We did have tea and scones one day at work. Also cupcakes:

Yummm.

Today after my haircut the hairdresser man kissed me on the cheek. Twice. Is this normal? He's not like European or anything and I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if he did it last time. Is it necessary? We are strangers! Am I overreacting?
It was super awkward I'm pretty sure. Like, I manage to make it awkward even if I know people really well or they're like family or something. I mean, there are people who have been kissing me on the cheek my whole entire life and I still find it awkward.
I find it awkward if my Dad kisses my cheek.
I just don't know how to deal with these things like a normal person, I usually just like offer my cheek in their general direction once I realise this is a thing that is going to happen and it's often mistimed. And I never know what to do with my hands which creates further problems.  Maybe I am just a giant weirdo? I THINK I NEED SOME FEEDBACK ON THIS.

I'm not sure the best way to move on from this paragraph so I'm just gonna jump right in (on?) to the next subject!

My parents arrived in Ireland a couple of weeks ago for what was supposed to be the beginning of their 5ish months over this side of the world shopping for French canal boats and generally gallivanting around Europe on their big O.E.
It started off well, they landed on the Friday and I flew to Dublin to meet them on Saturday morning. I was pretty nervous about what it would be like to interact with them as an adult/without my brother and sister/whilst sharing a hotel room. It mostly went ok! I did regress to a teenagerness on a couple of occasions, however my Dad also had at least one tantrum so I think we're even.

On the way to the homeland.

Potato Famine memorial, Dublin.

Kissing the Blarney Stone.

The Shannon? In Limerick? A castle of some kind?

The plan was a roadtrip Dublin-Cork-Limerick-Galway-Derry-Belfast and then fly to London on Sunday. Unfortunately around Tuesday it became clear that my Grandma back in NZ was going to die. This kind of put a damper on the trip and on Wednesday instead of driving to Derry we made our way back to Dublin. My parents had already booked flights home for the Friday and I changed mine to head back to London then too. The last couple of days we just kind of randomly drove around and cringed every time my mum got a text message. Incidentally, her message tone is a really long and annoying Tui chirping sound. Never wanna hear a Tui again.
The message we had been waiting for came around midday on Thursday.

It still hasn't really sunk in for me. I haven't had a proper cry and it feels heaps different from when my Grandad died last year. I think a big part of it is that I got to watch his funeral live online but I wasn't able to do that this time. My parents are on their way back over here now and they are bringing a video of it so maybe when I watch that it will make it real.
Also a fun thing: Going to work on Monday and everyone asking how my trip was!

Mimi lived next door to me almost my entire life. I used to go over to her house and sit with her a lot when I was young and read. Not gonna lie, sometimes I went over there to watch TV when I wasn't allowed to turn the TV on at home. Also, baking.
We called her Mimi.
I'm not sure why or how it happened that we called her that but this was a thing that was already established by older cousins before I came along. I realised at some point that most people didn't have a Mimi, they had a Grandma or a Granny or a Nana maybe, and so usually if I was talking about her I would say "My Grandma" to avoid the inevitable reactions when I said "My Mimi".
Jenny mocked me for ages whenever I said "My Mimi" until she realised that wasn't actually her name. To be fair, she probably continued to mock me even after I explained it to her.

I always liked that Claudia Kishi in The Babysitters Club called her Grandma Mimi too. It was real validating.

People told me sometimes that I looked like her. People who knew her when she was younger. I don't know if that's true but it was something I liked to hear.

I realised the other day that I have no Grandparents left, it was a weird thing to realise when walking down the street.

Need these glasses.

I'm totes just pretending to sleep in this photo, I was already hilarious even when I barely had any hair!
Look at me! I can barely contain myself! I still laugh at my own jokes.

Apparently the making stupid faces in photos thing goes back awhile also.

 SORRY THIS POST TOOK SUCH A DEPRESSING TURN GUYS!

Also, I moved flats! Actually I moved on the Friday night before I went to Ireland. I loaded all my possessions into a taxi, much to the drivers disgust, and made the trek about 10mins down the road. Now I live in Islington at Amelia's flat. It's pretty great/has way less stinky boys and a couch that is bearable to sleep on.

The Wilsonettes have a new home, along with some spectacular artwork.

Also I have like a little balcony type thing. It's actually enclosed.
You can kind of see the netting if you look closely. Lucky, don't wanna accidentally fall.

Maybe I will blog more regular now? Maybe you won't hear from me for another 4 months? Anything is possible! (Probably the second one though, let's be real).