Sunday marked my 31st day in the country. And for those of you who aren't familiar with how days of the year work; that's a month. Which also marks the longest stretch of time I've spent away from home on my own. Pretty lame for a 23 year old I know, but everyone's different yeah? So shut your cake-hole, you judgmental bum-nugget.
I feel somewhat obliged to discuss the weather here at this juncture. So forgive me for the banality of the forthcoming paragraph. Today, it's disgusting. It's overcast and muggy, has begun to rain, and yet manages to maintain a stupefying level of heat. Basically this city is on a mission to keep me in a constant state of perspiration. Not 30 minutes after I had stepped out of the shower and out of the front door, I felt damp and disgusting. BLEURGH; as the less articulate might say. Though yesterday and over the weekend it was gloriously, brilliantly, skin-scorchingly hot. The poor ceiling fans in our house struggled to keep up with the overbearing demands of a flaming ball of fire in the sky and thus left myself and my housemates slumped in a prolonged state of heat-induced lethargy on the sofas. It's cause for much conversation in our household just how shitting HOT it is downstairs (they keep talking about it being 80 degrees - being English I have literally no idea how to compute that), and if you are unlucky enough to land one of the leather chairs in the living room you may as well have thrown your thighs and buttocks into the oven to convection bake.
Anywho, onto matters of a more emotional nature. As much as I am having an awesome time over here - I have settled into my job, my neighborhood and my house: I miss my family, my friends and my boy. No I haven't suddenly spawned an illegitimate child, I of course refer to my boyfriend (information for the negligible readership of this blog who may not actually know me personally). I miss Graham, the buffoon. It has turned me into that person who witnesses couples embracing in the street and curses them for their idiotic, exasperating happiness. They're just so inane about it. Stupid bastards. That being said I make absolutely no apologies for any over-the-top and frankly rather inappropriate public displays of affection when GeeBo finally rolls into town in November.
The lack of a mobile phone is also not helping. People want to get in touch with me, I mean - I'm pretty important. And it would be nice to be able to shoot my parents and friends a text every now and again, be able to access emails/Facebook/Twitter/Google Maps while I'm out and about. In my fevered state of total smartphone addiction I may as well have gone cold turkey crackhead-stylee and/or have been launched back into the stone age where the only form of communication available was carving messages into cave walls or smoke signalling. Part of me wishes the mobile phone market had never evolved beyond the first Nokia 5510 handset I ever got. It was enormous, comforting, disproportionately heavy for its size and allowed me to talk, text and play Snake. This is all one needs from a mobile phone. These days I find myself literally organising my thoughts into the form of a Facebook status. I'm no expert but I'm almost certain that's a bad sign. Hence why I am loving blogging at the moment, it's somewhat cathartic to be able to articulate my thoughts and feelings into more than 140 characters. It's an art in itself to explore and elaborate, to digress and discuss through extended prose, rather than the literary wasteland of choice (Twitter, I'm looking at you) for the ADD sufferers that are celebrities and the great unwashed alike these days. Wow that was unexpectedly elitist of me, kinda not sorry though. There is too much emphasis put on the sporadic "Quick! Here! Now!" emissions of information these days; no one is in it for the long haul any more.
Woah, got a little deep there. Totally far out. In any case, for those of you who are missing me - and if you are not you are simply excellent at lying to yourself - here is a terrible picture of me that Julia took in beautiful yet death-defying high heels during our epic visit to Nine West in Union Station. See how comfortable (*cough* AWKWARD *cough*) I look?
Until next time, I'm off to blog myself into oblivion (for work purposes only from now on).
Love xx
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