Right now I am sat in Hally’s, my favourite Parsons Green haunt, with a big coffee. To look at me, you would see deceptive remains of my holiday glow. This glow is disguising a horrid sickly virus causing my limbs to ache, and head want to explode with pressure. For the last three days I’ve been sleeping 16 hours at a time, waking up only to send whatsapps to my friends and lovely team at work. *gets out a violin*. Just less than a month ago, things could not be any more different. In order to get over my holiday blues and take my mind off feeling like poop, I have decided to tell you all about my Sardinian holiday adventures, paused by feverant bouts of nose-blowing and coffee slurping.
One of my best friends Aimee is my holiday buddy and general partner in crime. Last year we went on an incredible holiday to Barbados. This year we fancied somewhere closer to home, with gorgeous beaches, warm sea and enough culture to explore by car. No clubbing and very little drinking… we are 25 going on 45 really. #oldladiesontour
I’m writing this mad excuse for a blog post, now on a train to Euston, listening to Beyoncé “smack it smack it in the urr”. Which brings me nicely onto partying, drinking and general misbehaviours. This month has had some truly wild nights out.
My life is spinning, drinks flowing, music carrying me through each day on the cusp of another exciting thing place adventure opportunity person. Words are one of my art forms. A form of expression. I want to splash them across this blog, painting a vivid picture that is rich, detailed… a lush, vibrant oil. Brush strokes quick and colourful, funny and open.
Malleable and momentary, I love having an expressive outlet through words, like I love paints, lipstick, working each day with designers and writers. All of this is happening at once and under my feet the rattle and hum of London takes me from bar to barre. I ache, I laugh and I am in love with life right now. Forgive me for my late slipping on the frequency of blog posts. They will come.
It is truly amazing and heart-warming to know I have frequently returning visitors from all over the world, sometimes in the thousands each day. I see you in Manila AND Burkina Faso! Hello!! So… I should really let y’all know what I’ve been up to whilst not posting on here… the intention being that you don’t forget about my blog and we carry on being internet friends. I’m a bit of an over-sharer too.
A few weeks ago I moved flat! I am now residing in the cute South West London neighborhood of Parsons Green, in a beautiful old mansion block. Think high ceilings, French blinds, roll top bath etc… Smug?? Me? Noooo way. I live with a delightful girlfriend who is a smart, kick-ass lawyer (which will inevitably come in handy as I’m always getting into trouble! – joking… ish) and a gym-honed, fitness nut. We are a match made in girly flatmate heaven, Nutribullet and everything. I’m her skincare dealer, she’s my fitspiration. It is SUCH a relief to no longer live with Xbox playing, grunting, stinky stinky boys. *BIG SIGH*.
Moving from SW1 to SW6 has required a tiny bit of adjusting as rather sadly, I can no longer walk to work, Uber taxis are actually NOT eight quid back from Soho, the Queen does not live a few mins up the road, and the Royal Mews Cavalry no longer wake me up every Saturday morning by trotting past my bedroom window en masse.*Sobs*. All of these things I made a point to really appreciate. However, I CAN skip to the Fulham Wine Rooms, Duke on the Green and Durrell Arms, also known collectively as some of the best pubs in London, usually full of Hooray Henry’s in red trousers with tripple-barrelled names, so no change there… but it is really lovely. Did I mention that I no longer live with stinky boys? I’m happy now.
“No one does that anymore”
“Oh, you should stand over there, you’ll get picked up quicker”
“I did 60,000 kilometers around Europe when I was young. I almost had that road fever and then I had to stop.”
The most remarkable experience I had Hitching across France this August was how much people wanted to share with me. I already have experience of being a person that people share with, as a private English teacher I find that I am often cast as a counselor discussing peoples day to day grievances. The difference between that experience and conversations on the road is that people came to me as if to confess their past lives as Hitchers. Every ride I got told me some personal story of sticking out their thumb in the hope of getting where they needed to go. Even people who couldn’t give me a ride would stop and tell me about their experience and give me their personal tips on how best to find a lift. The truth of course is that is that there is no tried and tested method bar a smiling face!