Lambrini, trivial pursuit and the neighbours.

Lambrini. I thought I would enlighten you all on what on earth this Car brand-sounding thing is. Imagine walking to the Off License (London's idea of a corner shop that sells bulk booze) on a mid week afternoon with the intentions of buying a few beers and maybe a bottle of wine to get you through a tough game of Trivial Pursuit about to take place at your house. 

Note: My housemates are freaks of nature that know the answer to every question known to man. My best bet is that they read all the cards in their spare time to make everyone else look like the Australian education system is the worst in the world by a mile...this is what I tell myself so I don't feel like a complete dick but it's the truth I swear!

You walk in the store and your Aunties boyfriend (a true Englishman) grabs hold of this £2 bottle of strange looking wine, or champagne, or something. Curiously, you stare at this bottle and ask what the fuck it is. Why is it so cheap? Who drinks this stuff? More importantly, is it alcoholic???
You opt for your regular Kronenburg cans and a bottle of some shitty Pingo Grigio just to be safe. 
When you get home he tells you that you have made a rookie error and you will regret not choosing Lamborghini or Lambrini or whatever the fuck. Cue - Take a sip to try it out. 
It was that moment that changed my new home forever. IT IS BRILLIANT! Not only can you buy 750ml for £2. You can buy 1.5 LITRES for £3.50. Its the best invention ever. Almost Brittan's idea of Omni but better. 

The next time I walked to that Off License I didnt even think, Lambrini is the only choice from now on. How can you justify paying £6 for a bottle of shitty cat piss wine when you can drink a bottle of love for £3.50. Not only that but it helps me get through every shitty game of Trivia held at Amiel Street. 

Ahh, the neighbours. Don't you just love them. 
On one side of the house is a crazy cat lady whose backyard looks like an evil version of The Secret Garden. I wish I could tell you how many cats she owns but I'd be lying. Lets just say - a shitload. Not only that but in the afternoon there is like 200 pigeons that sit on her roof and trees and make a lot of noice - EVERYDAY. I've always wondered why the cats don't eat them? Why are they there? Do they eat the cherries from her tree? Whats so good about her cherries anyway? 
Stupid Cat Lady.

On the other side is a family of who bloody knows how many. Probably a billion. They cook this weird fish shit in their backyard sometimes and leave it to dry out or something. It smells like a rat has gotten stuck in a drainpipe and died. Then remained there for a month or so. It is heinous. Took us so long to figure out what the smell was. I really shouldn't be subjected to the smell whilst trying to enjoy an afternoon coffee and cigarette. There is this fat kid that lives there as well. He is an Augustus Gloop of a child with the personality of Verruca Salt. He sits out the front of our houses, yelling vile things and disrupting the serenity of my mornings. One day he just walked up and punched our friend right in the arm. What the hell kid? Don't you have better things to do? One day I think I might steal his bike just to teach him a lesson. Or maybe pay him in jam tarts to go to the shops for me when it's raining. It's all still in the planning stages. 

I will keep you updated on my plans to sabotage the old lady's pigeons and teach the fat boy a lesson. 


- Lambrini rat.

The 3 Month Mark.

So I finally got around to making a blog about my London adventure. I did mean to make one 3 months ago but Europe, The Castle and Lambrini happened.

Before I left home everyone said that by the 3 month mark I would start to feel homesick - they were right. However its not the sort of homesick that you are begging to go home. Its just when the initial feelings of excitement wears off and you start to realise that you actually arent in Kansas anymore.

I think more so its the time when you realise that this is real life. Its not a holiday anymore, its where you actually live. You need a job, a house, new friends - the whole kit and kaboodle which seemingly was handed to you back home. I came over with the notion that things would just fall into place with minimal effort required as that I guess is how in Brisbane I grazed through life. Unfortunately that is just not the case here, its tough. Its not that easy for you to get the perfect job, or house or friends straight away. For me, it was a huge shock to the system. I'm still house searching - temping here and there for work and given I have some amazing friends here - I just really wish I had my support network for when shit hits the fan because knowing me - it's a weekly occurrence.

Enough with all the negative though - London is truely amazing. Its such a big city that never really sleeps. The first week here the Underground scared the life out of me. "Why is everyone walking so fast- what on earth is the rush about?!" I could barely stop to check the map before someone would be barging me out of the way wizzing past to get to wherever it was they were going. Its funny when I look back on that first week and all the strangeness and intrigue that was going through a little twenty- something Brisbaner's head because now, that rush is mine. I don't realise how quickly you adapt to London life until someone comes to visit you and asks why you are going like a bull by the horns for really no apparent reason, it's just how life is for you now.

A few weeks ago I was sitting on the Underground on my way to work and suddenly this weird feeling came over me - I couldn't imagine my life not in London anymore. Catching the tube to work is just so normal for me. It was then I realised that London has already become home and that scares the living shit out of me.

- pondering rat.