Farmer Rowlands

The farm house kitten

Well since the embarrassing F1 update, I have moved outta Melbourne and I'm living in the glorious backwards, bogan country town of Shepparton, which is a little fruit farming town round about a two and a half hour train ride outside of Melbourne. Most of you were aware I didn't want to do my second year visa work because the thought of another year away and another year of not doing my degree was a bit too much to handle. But the decision was made for me because immigration told Aus Post if I stayed it would be against the law, so all savings plans were completely blown out of the water. I have been forced now to work in a packing shed in order to get another visa so I can come back and save enough money to get a house when I eventually get back to England or Scotland – that flat I wanted has now been reduced to £15k. I WANT IT SO BAD!!!

So anyway, I packed my suitcase, sold my beloved only-played-twice-shit guitar, sold the furniture, had a good squeeze goodbye of Andrew and a few drinks with my gay following, and said cheerio to my Melbourne in search of the easy country life.

Example of Nick's bonfire skills

Amusing romantic ideas of the easy country life though were shattered on day one. My god.. the work in this shed is hard. I am packing apples on a factory conveyor belt and living in a house with 25 other girls – most of whom are lovely and hopefully I am in the process of making some of those friends for life types that I seem to pick up along the way. And there is another Northerner here!! She's from Manchester and completely on the same wave length which is an absolute relief – I was haunted by the hideous idea that my time would be entirely spent with the Irish girls watching The Kardashians (or what ever/who ever that is). She sought me out through the crowd of accents to announce she too liked a “brew and a biccy” and had “owt and nowt ta do”. 

The landlord is fantastic and makes and pays for huge BBQ's for us, sets up bonfires and does other little house stuff. He is funny and determined which I like in a guy – he would be fit to me if he wasn't clearly taking steroids in the gym and wasn't 56ish. 

Me and the kitten. There was love there

My new resting place is on the top of the most squeakiest, unsecured and unpredictably unstable bunk bed in the world - the other day I tried to climb the ladder and hop into bed but I failed in dramatically epic proportions.

Basically what happened is the whole bed swayed towards me as I climbed, I lost my footing and had to leaver myself up using just my weakling arms. Because the arms weren't sufficient for the task of craning my giant arse, I used my knees but caught them on the side of the mattress. This resulted in the mattress being lifted in the air as I was falling back down, my head somehow got wedged between frame and mattress, my right arm was now where the left arm was and like a chimpanzee, my right leg had swung up to wrap around the top bar with the left leg just dangling there like a dead appendage. The right leg landing on the mattress only forced it down so there was now pressure on my trapped skull. From then on, probably due to a short period of oxygen shortage to my brain from mattress squashing, I can't quite remember what happened but I had miraculously escaped the clutches of the mattress frame prison and was on my back on the bed. It all happened very quickly but slowly enough for the two girls in the room to stop talking, look up from the laptop to watch what was happening and let their mouths drop in a “Oh God should we help?” expression.

Farm house puppy

Horror for someone who had only been living there around four days. Maybe three weeks in that would have been something to laugh about but no, they were polite enough not to snigger and just ask if I was OK. I tamely and exhaustedly replied with just a “yeah. Bent my nail back a bit though” before maintaining a self preserving silence. I didn't want further shame to descend upon me by saying my ears were dented into the shape of the slats under the mattress.

Oh and my back is completely fucked from work- I am in total agony.

The first day on the job was interesting, but also deathly dull at the same time– I was shown how to pack apples into punnets and was advised what was and wasn't a good apple. You would think this would be really obvious wouldn't you?.. it is not! I did not realise apples could get sunburnt!! And I did not realise sunburnt apples were not put into punnets. And you have to work at the speed of light in order to put the apples into punnets because they just spew out at you from the machine like a broken toffee vending machine (how amazing would that actually be, particularly if the toffee was ecalires. Mmm.) You have like 8 seconds to check the apples and then put eight good ones in. Checking eight apples all over, top and bottom and all sides in 9 seconds is a proper skill guys and it really does take practice. When I was working in the second shed, the supervisors name was Evie. She is some form of Asian (I think Chinese) and only learnt to speak English when she moved here four years ago, so as you can imagine it's not quite fluent and has that typical Asian twang.. for example for apple she says apoo, and bruise she says bloos, and of course very is said velly.

Sunset on the farm

Evie was checking over the apples I had packed and was very sweetly showing me which ones were bruised and had been missed. I thought I was getting really good and quick at it, now packing a punnet in around 7 seconds, when she brought over an apple I really should have picked up... She brought it over, held it up to the light which she definitely didn't need to do and said “this apoo, velly bad. Velly bad apoo you see?”. And I had to nod, make the agreeing mmhmm sound and accept that yes, yes this apple that not only had a massive bruise but was also cut in half and had a dead animal attached to it was indeed, as she suggested, a velly bad apoo. I slowed back down to the 9 seconds so as not to avoid a law suit in the future.

I remember on the first line on the first day I was of course being very cautious, making sure my punnets were beautifully presented with only the very best apples in them I would pick up an apple, turn it around a few times and say “ooh yes that's a good one, I will save that one for the top of the pile and display its shiny red side proudly.” I'd pick another and um and ar over it “.. is that a bit of sunburn? Hmm. I will keep that one and put it on the bottom maybe. Oooh this ones very bruised yeah we won't keep that one. Traaa laa laaa..” All was very relaxed until I heard this “thump thump thumpthumpTHUMP!!” I look up to see the girl I live with running towards me pointing and in a very fast Irish accent shouting “JUSTFUCKEM'INABOXXXX!!!!”

I looked over following her point and there, casting an actual shadow over my face was a pyramid of apples coming towards me on the conveyor belt. It turns out you can't really take your time to decide on the quality of apple. The deal is you you pick 5 up in your hands, turn them over and if you see nothing bad, FUCKEMINABOX! The only problem there is, you will of course miss some bruises and when they are quality checked by the bosses, it makes you look bad, like the dead animal example above. Which pisses me off immensely because you have 9 seconds to look at and pack a punnet of 8 apples but they take 20 seconds to look at 1 apple, even lifting it towards the light for a proper look and decide whether or not it's good enough. 

Sunrise on the farm

I was watching one of the girls pack and she went from human to octopus before my eyes. Her hands were moving so quickly that she no longer had hands but apple claws.

Now the job is not only very hard physically on my back, but it is SENSATIONALLY boring. No matter how hard you try to concentrate on the apoos, your mind wanders. Armed with the new information that apples could get sunburnt, I have spent quite a considerable amount of time thinking about how I might invent an organic chemical free apple sunscreen. I've imagined a fake interview with the Dragons, mulled over my pitch to them and given hefty amounts of time to think about how much money I could SO make on apple sunscreen and what I would spend it on.

How I long to own the GBR for $600k

I complain away but really but really, it pays. Although shite compared to Post wages, it's great compared to an actual in the field picking job. And the house is nice I guess. It needs some massive make overing and there are no drawers so all of our clothes are just scattered on the floor and stuffed into suitcases. Which is perfect for red backs and white tails to hide in. I have suggested getting some drawers but Nick who owns the place doesn't want to spend money getting any... even though he gets $3900 A WEEK from the house. That's $202,800.00 a year from a house. How amazing is that?? If that was me, I would make bloody well sure the place was looked after.. the bathroom needs major work doing to it, the kitchen has actually fallen apart, the bunk beds are shoddy and as I said, we need drawers and wardrobes.

Winning a game of Aussie monopoly

Well, there are 73 days to go to get my second visa. It seems oh so far away but this time next week, I will have 66 and once it's done, I can come back for a year, work another collections job for the amazing money and then I will have saved up enough to buy a flat in Glasgow. Starting a career in midwifery mortgage and rent free will be nice so I guess it's worth the shit for that. 

Right I guess I'm going to go.. It's Easter weekend so I enjoying an almost empty house and I intend to eat a family sized pizza in just a moment. Have a lovely Easter guys! And I hope you enjoy the pictures of the farm attached :)

A Very Special 4 Day Weekend.. Meeeaaooweerrrrrr!

Well hello there! How are you guys? I am bloody wonderful thank you for asking – I have very sticky fingers and therefore keyboard because I am wolfing down a caramel slice.. It's massive and SO gooey good. I don't actually know how I am fitting it in because I have just eaten a green curry. Which was NOT spicy. Disappointment.

But I am not here to talk about food. I am here to talk about the F1!! It was a dream come true. If you check my blog from February 2010 it tells you in there how much desire I had to come here and do this.. and it is so odd when a fantasy comes true. You expect magical lights, singing angels, harps.. but instead I got to meet face to face THREE of my heroes, heard nothing but VROOOOM and MEEEOOOWWWERERRRR for 4 solid days whilst traipsing through mud.. but it was still magical. 

I figured I would break down my days for you rather than have it all jumbled and uncoordinated..

Thursday

My pit walk day! The day started at 7.20am when I was woken by a loud two seater swisse F1 car firing up. You know how people figuratively say “I live across the road from such and such a place”? Well I actually do and its not figuratively. I walk out my door, cross the road and I am there at Albert Park race track. Amazing and convenient sums up my location.

It was PISSING it down with rain for chunks of 10 minutes, then was super cold so the jackets were on. Then, in true Melbourne style, the sun came out with such blistering force people were de-jacketing and suncreaming up. Then literally 10 minutes later, rain again. So all of those people who were suncreaming were now sliding their jackets back up slimy bodies, the rain making a white paste, people making that “nawwwoo” noise whilst pulling a frown face and desperately searching for a hand wiping material, and children accidentally slapping their foreheads like that paste pants episode of Friends. Relatively amusing! 

The free breakfast they gave us was terrifically disappointing – it was a slice of Coles brand (Tesco's own for Englanders) white bread with the weirdest thin sausage, a dry muffin I did not consume and a bottle of water. Thanks... And my free gift for being a Silver member was a coffee cup. Yay.... But still, shouldn't complain about free food given parts of Africa are starving. 

The pit walk was brilliant and very crowded which came as a surprise – I wasn't expecting so many GP advantage members. I got to watch Mclaren do a practise pit and then.. the most amazing thing.. Jenson's car touched me. On the shin. Let me just reiterate – JENSON BUTTON'S CAR, AS IN THE WORLD CHAMPION JENSON BUTTON, GOD OF ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL, JENSON BUTTON.. HIS CAR... TOUCHED MY FUCKING SHIN. Honestly I didn't think anything could top it. But then... (dramatic entrance to the next paragraph)

.. I met Jenson Button. JENSON BUTTON, AS IN THE WORLD CHAMPION JENSON BUTTON, GOD OF ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL, JENSON BUTTON. I met him. And it was awful (change in tempo to dramatic music to one of bewilderment..)..

I was SO excited and SO nervous that it all happened very suddenly. I was the very last person on stage with him in front of thousands who had come to meet him and here I was, little 5 foot 1 me on stage with not just Jenson, but Lewis Hamilton. Two world champions and me.. slightly over weight with damp wind swept hair smiling like a mental patient me, and beautiful lean gorgeous them. Swoon.

I was up there with a guy I had met in the queue to get autographs called Adam and he handled the whole situation like a pro. He said hello to Jenson, told him to have a good race, asked him politely to have a photo with him taken and then moved on. 

I on the other hand, walked up to Jenson and practically threw my top at his face. My hands were shaking so badly they released the top well before my brain could engage and it landed in a heap in front of him, inches away from landing on his head. Jenson politely signed it and smiled which was very nice of him. Then, unlike Adam, I just leaned across the table to have my photo taken with him. I didn't ask. Jenson was obviously taken by surprise because to the side of me (I am no longer looking at Jenson but cheese grinning at the camera) I hear Jenson go “ooh” and then slide his chair back to get into shot. Then it gets worse....

I picked up my signed top, still not looked Jenson in the eye, hold up the shirt to check he had indeed signed it and then upon lowering it... oh god the shame.. I look Adam straight in the eye instead of Jenson and say “thank you, you're a legend”. Oh god. By the time it had clicked, Jenson was being rushed off the stage. Such a dick. I am such a massive dick.

…. and THEN... I met Lewis. Lewis was very polite and had amazing polished skin! It looked so smooth. Anyway he signed my top for me, I smiled, he smiled. He looked at my camera and then at me. He went to move to get into shot and what did I do??? Fucking well put my camera down, grabbed my shirt and in a really low voice as I was already starting to skulk off the stage.. “cheers”.

Kill me. Kill me now.

Friday

First an second free practises of the season and it was great to see. Except it rained and this time all day. I was beyond soaking wet. My underwear was drenched, there was water pouring off my nose like an overflowing house gutter, I was freezing my arse off. I did not enjoy Friday weather very much but seeing the guys out in their cars was bloody brilliant.

Saturday

Qualifying!!! And day of sunburn. Today was a fantastic day!! I got to see Free Practise 3, Crusty Demons (Google it – mentally wicked) and Mclaren pull out a one-two on the grid. It was also boilingly hot and because of what had happened the day before, I didn't bother to take sunscreen.

Kids.. this is a very bad idea. Now.. I am going to post the picture so you guy can take lesson from my mistakes. If you are going to go outside for a full 12 hours and NOT wear sun screen, for the love of all things holy TAKE YOUR SUNGLASSES OFF. It's terrible what has happened to me. I look.. well there is no word I can think of that describes what I am actually look like so ridiculous will have to do. Andrew is the only one so far who has seen me in the flesh with my disfiguring scars. It's so awful.

But it was a brilliant day all in all, I enjoyed every second of it and I had a pizza for tea. 

Sunday

Race day!! And also the day I got to go on the main straight. It was cool and I am glad I did it but I won't do it again because pretty much all there is to do is sit on pole position pretending to drive and have your photo taken on the chequered line. I am also glad I did it as it was a lesson for next year – get there at 8am on the dot, be first in line and RUN down the main straight because where you come out is the International Media Centre and the Team and Crew building. This Sir's should simply be named “very close to famous people get there quick” building.

I stood there for a bit, had a fantastic spot.. and after 20 minutes of no action and a large cappuccino later, I decided it was best to use a toilet to wee in instead of my shorts. So I dumbarsly left the area for a slash. Got back and I was pushed further down the now bulging queue of people all ready and waiting to get autographs.

When the first famous person turned up I was completely oblivious. I was stood next to this guy who got his camera out and pointed it in the air. I followed his line of site and said in my head “oh that's a nice parrot”.. then immediately he lowed the camera and said “good morning David, good luck in the race today”. I opened my mouth in shock horror and said “mahhhhh”. David Coulthard looked at us both, smiled and nodded his head and said “good morning, good morning”.

DC - the legend that is said good morning to me.. and all I could muster to say to him was “mah”??!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! Of course.. as is the trend with this blog.. and aparently my life.. it gets worse.

Several other famous people arrived. Christian Horner, Daniel Ricciardo, Pastor Maldonardo, Felippe Massa, Fernando Alonso.. and Heikki Kovalainen. F1 fans who know me well will know my love for Heikki. I think he is so beautiful and so cuddly. I lust for his cuddles like a cuddle demanding monster. I wish to stroke his face with a flat hand and loose fingers and kiss his eye lids and the tip of his teeeeny tiny nose. I love him.

Well. Heikki came over. He was signing things and being very smiley and from NO WHERE, a shouting goblin got inside me and yelled him name. The poor love was next to me so he's probably experienced a bit of ear drum damage, but it certainly got his attention.. right at the point the brave goblin ran out of my arse and away back under its rock. I had nothing.. nothing to say to him, nothing to sign. What I did have was a camera pointing at the floor and no sunglasses on... Having read the above Saturday piece and looked at the below picture you will know how devastating this will have been for someone face to face with a fantasy love angel. 

After I had deafened him he so sweetly came over to me. He stood in front of me and grinned (most likely at my face) and said in his gorgeous accent “would you like me to sign something?!” - he gave a little chortle as he said it.. and all I said was “picture?”. He looked confused, I gestured with the camera that I was clutching with both hands and AGAIN said “picture?”.

He obliged and stood there waiting for his picture to be taken.. after a while he looked side to side.. I still held the camera to the floor and I just full on stared at him... like a fucking mental patient once more. Then the BITCH beside me said “Heikki can I get a picture with you please?”. Clearly my ballsy goblin was now up her bloody arse and not mine and so Heikki moved on. I put my camera away in my bag and walked back to the grandstands in a mood. I had embarrassed myself enough for the day.

Well until the afternoon anyway, after Jenson won the race (the car had clearly been given magic powers after touching my leg, clearly). I stood amongst a sea of Australians and sang our national anthem with all my heart. Very proud moment :)

And then it was over... done. No fireworks, no marriage proposals from Jenson, David or Heikki (God knows why, I am clearly a catch). Just a walk home looking like a red raccoon feeling all empty at the front with no more wishing to go to the F1, but heavy at the back with all the things I had seen and done.

It was an amazing 4 days and I WILL do it all again. All over the world. See you soon Formula One, thank you for being amazing.

In Search of Moo

Hullo. Sorry it's been awhile.. I am currently blogging from work because I am 100% completely bored beyond natural means. I am playing Office Communicator iSpy I am that bored but this has been interupted by my iSpy partner taking a call. I'm so bored. So very bored.

And due to a very suddent change of events, I also have ZERO motivation to do anything that resembles work because I know for this month I have no stats to worry about.. because Sir's.. as it turns out, I cannot legally work here anymore as of March 26th.

I can confirm this has put a spanner in the works and a MAJOR dent in my finances. I am right now on the brink of homelessness, joblessness and bankruptness. But I of course have a plan :D

Kinda. Basically, I wasn't going to go farming so I could stay and earn the big money here but seen as I can't anymore, and after doing an extensive and distressing search for jobs back home, I have decided to stick it out farming and come back for one more year - this way I get to clear my loan payment, save up for a flat when I get home eventually and visit Fiji and Bali - two places I was desperate to visit but couldn't cram into my schedule. Effectively I will be exchanging one more year away from friends and family in return for 10 years worth of savings in England.

It makes sense. However. Further spanner-age. I cannot for the life of me find a farming job. This is of grave concern. I need a farming job that will let me work 6-7 days a week between 26th March and 2nd July so I can get me 81 days for a valid visa.. BUT THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!!

This country is completely ridiculous!!!! An Aussie can come and live in England for 2 years and do whatever they want. But an English person can only come over here for a year, work for one person for 6 months maximum, and if they want to stay a bit longer they have to go farming for 3 months in appauling conditions for very, very little pay.

I feel I may write to the Prime Minister and demand the laws are changed. I will let you know how I get on. I just had to have a rant there. It's also filled some time.. back to iSpy soon I hope.

Eat, Pray, Love

What I thought was going to be a terrible book has turned out to be one that I will point blank refuse to give back to the person who lent it to me. Crack for the eyes and soul honestly it is. If you haven't read it and you enjoy my style of writing but in a more fluent and enchanting way, this has to be your book and I DEMAND, with clenched fists and a poo straining face you go and order it from Amazon right this very second.

It has sold over 8 million copies and I bet you every single one of those 8 million readers will have said exactly what I am going to say now... “this is me!” I am the lost and heartbroken woman who was once crying every night of my life for the loss of someone I adore because he turned into a self-centred cunt, and I am the one who found someone else within minutes of losing that person, fell spectacularly in love with them and he with me and he turns out to not really want me for me but for the free spirit I impersonated to get over loss number 1.

And I am the person who is learning another language to be more sexy!! (French – bonjour! You can see my lessons are paying off). And I am the one who is jetting off around the world not just to collect super cool stamps and visas in my passport, but to figure out what actually makes me just be happy not just for the moment, but for ever.

And right now, whilst I am writing this particular piece, I am happy. I have had such a lovely week and a lovely weekend so far. I am so busy it's wonderful! I don't have time to sit around and think I should be fucking doing something with me life because I actually am off doing something. And thank Crunchy (oo Crunchy.. shop break) for Facebook seen as my memory is hideously.. I've forgotten. I have to look back on my 598 postings for the week to figure out exactly what I did and when.

I'm not sure whether I told you on the last blog, but I went to see Andy Murray and Novak Djokovic play tennis at the Rod Laver arena – it was SO amazing. I have never been to the tennis, nor have I ever been to a sporting event that has been so full on tension making, so full of mutual respect for both opponents from the crowd, to where I physically lost my voice screaming in applaud or to where I would with pleasure sit for another 5 hours straight, bladder pushing other organs into areas they shouldn't be, just to do it all again. I loved it. I adore tennis anyway but now I am seriously hooked. Tennis is my new football and on a par with F1. Which is a big deal!

Last Saturday was spent doing what I do best – burning. I burnt so badly that around my belly button there is a ring of teeeeny tiny blisters. Grim.com I am aware. My tan lines are utterly fantastic and due to switching bikini style on a regular basis, my boob tan lines are starting to look like the outline of a crossword puzzle; there are little squares, rectangles and triangles of such differently covered skin in a very small (yet generously proportioned) area that you could at the very least play connect the dots.. imagine if you did and it made a bucket and spade!! Fitting.

Anyway. Safe to say today's outing to the beach resulted in actual sunscreen wearing and later, a white top wearage! I Sarah Bear Rowlands covered up skin in order NOT to get more burnt. This my friends and avid viewers, is a sure sign of growing up. Good times.

Now let me just check Facebook whilst I eat this Crunchy so I can figure out what I did Monday/Tuesday.... Ah yes Monday I played my guitar until my finger skin came off. Attractive. And I cleaned the kitchen to within an inch of its greasy life whilst listening to an amazing set by AVB – look it up it's called A State of Trance Episode 403. Tuesday and Wednesday I was up at the gym at 5.30am in the morning – this MUST be a more regular outing so I can be more skinny in time for the next adventures (further information below), and I saw the F1 stands being built up around Albert Park. YAY!!!!!! there is only like 38 days to go!!! EEEEE. Now all Australia Post need to do is find my twatting tickets, and all the ticket providers need to do is email me back to send me fresh twatting tickets seen as Australia Post are twatting useless. RAGE.

Wednesday was very productive and very, very nice :) In terms of productivity I booked tickets on The Overland train to Adelaide, and train tickets on The Ghan to Alice Springs and Darwin. Exciting times!! Omega the weirdest thing happened though! I called a hostel called backpack Oz in Adelaide and spoke to this girl who was clearly from Manchester. I asked her “can I please have some details sent to me via email”, to which she replied “no worries ducky love whatsya email?”. So I spell out my name and she goes “noooo waaay?! Sarah ROWLANDS?!?!”.. I reply yes in a cautious manner, slightly taken aback by the abrupt shock that my adopted name had caused and followed it with “why?”, to which she paused to take a massive breath before exploding down the phone “THATS MYYYY NAAAAME!!”. No. Ducking. Way. Two kids from the North West backpacking around a foreign country, talking to each other on the phone with the same name.. the odds of that happening ever again are extreme. This was one momentous occasion in what I feel will be both of our lives. A story I can guarantee you I will be reciting to my grandchildren.. on the basis I avoid early onset of Alzheimers of course. Fingers crossed!

And in terms of very nice, I went on an enchanting outing with my new blonde haired, blue eyed Irish friend Nige (stop snorting back a giggle.. I know). He is lovely. Full stop. He sits in cafes and drinks lattes whilst writing poems and songs to sing on his guitar when he busks. He has an accent. He believes in ghosts and has the spirit of his grandmother with him at all times. He wears a cross for protection but isn't religious. He owns a farm and two cows, Robbie and Ronan. He makes me laugh and he bought me drinks in the evening after I bought him a picnic for the beach where we watched the sunset. He's very clever. And tall. And did I mention he has blue eyes? I am trying my most hardest not to fuck this one up after Mathew told me off for being too picky with men. But now I have decided I am NOT going to fuck it up and I do actually quite like him after 3 meeting ups, I am now in that state of should I text him or should I wait for him to text me?? Does he like me like me or does he just friend like me?? Damn you Mathew!! You should have left me alone to self destruct lol

But anyway I enjoyed my picnic with him and the sunset was beautiful. We were also attacked by a massive, and I mean MASSIVE pack of seagulls. And it turns out we share the same seagull fear. We watched them being chased off by a pack of magpies which was so interesting to see. There was a good 50-60 white seagulls literally on the left hand side of us, us acting as the middle neutral Belgium ground, and on the other side 4 pitch black magpies with white tipped wings. In the middle at our Belgian feet was a slice of pastry.. and the 4 magpies like giant bouncers at a night club dominating a pack of white under-aged teenagers owned that pastry. It was theirs. And should a little white insignificant juvenile attempt to steal it away from the black Buddha's with mace, there was a significant amount of bird screaming and feather loss. Enough feather to at least fill a pillow.

So that engaged my attention for at least awhile. I went to watch the Australia vs India T20 cricket match on Friday. Australia lost which meant India FINALLY won something bless them. The absolute highlight of that night though was not the actual cricket play itself but it was my friend Nitin who so you understand the story, was holding his India flag in the same hand as his cigarette. Both of us were giggling because he had just said “he was having a fag between his fingers” haha fnar so of course there was immediate questioning on his current homosexual engagement, but because we were paying so much attention to laughing, we hadn't realised his flag had been set on fire by his ciggie! We were posing for a photo still giggling when I jokingly said through clenched teeth in order to maintain the photo smile “I can smell fire, you haven't set the flag on fire have you?”, and he said through similarly clenched teeth “no I don't think.. OH SHIT!!” before further defiling of the flag by stamping the flames out. Brilliancy.

Ooh I skipped a day... Thursday. Thursday I booked my tickets to New Zealand and also a wee tour of India there :) I iz well bad going to India for 33 days!! 10 of which will be spent in Goa, and 5 of those days will be on my own on the beach gearing up for a very cold winter spent at home.. for I have also booked my tickets home!! I can officially announce folk that I am landing in Manchester on October 17th. I expect all of my good friends to be there at my mums in Chesterfield holding banners, wearing party hats and for there to be a full on buffet with mums famous salmon cucumber baps. I hope that is understood and acknowledged.

And so that leaves me with today. A wonderful day lying on the beach reading my Eat, Pray, Love (notice the word my in that statement there, mine), swimming in the ocean with little silver fishes, being woken up by a very drunk Peter getting into bed with me and trying to sell me his girlfriends blue shoes at mates rates, and now later, I am going to eat bit of jam on toast, have a cup coffee vodka hot chocolate and read some more of MY book in preparation for having breakfast at 2 Doors Down whilst my laundry does it's stuff tomorrow, a MAMMOUTH gym session and some guitar playing in the afternoon. And perhaps the zoo.

I love my life. I love Australia. See you later :)

Gym. Fat. Alcohol.

Eurgh. So I've been going to the gym loads except for the last 2 weeks since Xmas. And I thought I had lost at least some weight due to better fitting clothes.

The answer today from my free personal trainer though was a great big rather self confidence deflating no. No Rowlands you are still 100% a fat fudge. And I blame the calories in cider whole heartedly. I need them out of my house and out of my life. But when there are parties to host this simply isn't an option.

My free training session went ok though. I was terribly afraid it wasn't going to. You know when you have those irrational fears that this trainer guy is going to unutterably gorgeous and he's going to make you do a sit up on a full stomach of last nights pizza gas and will explode in his face on the way up from a crunch, rocketing him into the treadmill behind him? Or he will make you do squats and your pants will split with an ear deafening rip, amplifying just how fat your arse is and really bedding in the hugely unlikeliness that Mr Fit will NOT be sleeping with you any time soon.

Well that didn't happen at all!! And if anything I think he was gay and well too old to have a pony tail. He did show me how to roll on a foam roller and he said if it hurts your muscles then it means you have some serious nots in them. Well I almost cried with every roll. My back popped at least 8 times, my hips nearly came out of their sockets and my calf muscles almost ripped themselves out of my skin to escape the torture. I should also apparently get a physio for my curved back and learn to relax my shoulders and use my hips more for lifting. He made me stand in a mirror and look at my appalling back all hunched over. I now have some serious self conscious paranoid issues about it and have walked to the laundrette with my tits out and my arse still at home to make my spine curve more appropriately. I was loading the machine but couldn't see where the clothes were going because my chest was in the way, and I was blocking the door with my sticky out arse so other laundrette patrons couldn't get in. I am now sat typing this with back ache. Joy.

But. I am going to spin class tomorrow for the first time. I have never been to a class before so I'm slightly daunted by it. After that it's a mad swim session now I have goggles. I kept forgetting them and because it's a sea bath, the salt was getting into my eyes so much I looked like I'd been smoking weed for the last 12 years. When it's only been 10.

Yesterday was a good laugh like. I had a lovely late breakfast with Courtney and have discovered the most lovely bakery that serves lovely latte. Lovely lovely lovely. I then went shopping for my Mexican party on Friday and, as my Wycombe pals know, I as usual went over board on the decos. I spent $115 purely on this to decorate the flat with. I haven't even done a food shop. I'm going to suggest people maybe bring something Mexican food like so I can feed them all. Core blimey going back a day, the Origin crew have discovered nacho pizza!!!!

It's literally as it sounds. It's Doritos on a pizza with jalapeños, guacamole, salsa and sour cream. Andrew had little faith in its appeal but I knew it would be a winner and my word was I correct. I NEED to make that for the party for sure. Pure genius.

But yes after the shopping I come home to find 5 dubliners on my front room drinking goon. I joined them from 3pm until 9.30pm drinking those dirty calorie filled ciders whilst we played pictionary on the chalk board, before retreating to my room to call people, thus avoiding the carnage that was apparently getting home at 5am and being sick. The kitchen full on REEKs of sick it's not funny.

Good crack though the dubliners. Peter in particular was hilarious and Lucy is just ace! I HAVE to get a pic of the pictionary attempt of taxidermist Andrew did because it's frigging brilliant!!!

Ooh I also went to my first T20 game in Australia. It's so different to ours at home. This one had a mascot, smoke machines, was played under a roof, had flashing lights like a disco... It was so American I felt that I should have been at an American football game. Great atmosphere though. And this week I am off to watch Andy Murray at the Australian open. God I love it here so much. I will miss it with all my heart. 4 years to be away is starting to sound much harder than I thought.

I'm off now to finish the final few pages of my Dan Brown book and put my clothery in the old tumble dryer there. So I will. PUDDIN'!!!!

Catch you next sunday.

I Am A Terrible Drunk

So. It happened again. I got completely and utterly full on off my face on Friday. And I have narrowed it down to exactly when and why that happened. I ordered champagne. Literally as soon as I was on my second glass (after the gin and vodka tonics) my memory disappears. I have sketchy memories of emptying my purse for Anjali, then the next thing I remember is snorting vodka at my house.

I have no recollection of getting home from the pub at all. I remember being forced to down my drink during a card game and remember through the help of photos and videos Emma passing out but other than that.. Nothing. And I have been informed of conversations I really shouldn't have had.

To those I may have fucked off.. So sorry. To those who loved watching me being paralytic, shame on you for letting me drink lol

In other news, I have a huge decision to make. Do I try and come back for a second year in Australia? You see, here are my options and I need you to tell me which you think is best...

Option One: I go farming for 3 months and earn hardly anything, live in the scary outback, and then be granted a second year.

Option Two: I stay at Aus Post until July then do a months quick tour of Aus before leaving for good. I then go back home, learn to be a midwife and then come back on a skilled migrant visa.

Option Three: fuck it all, come home and have babies. Lots of babies and do up houses for a living.

I need to make this decision within the next 4 weeks. So tricky. Help!!!

A Blog For Starkey...

Well then!! Hia :) my blog does not come to you from Bondi beach as was promised in the previous entry.. Because on new years day I was in hospital!! For a change.. It wasn't me that was sick lol. It was Kev.. Which isn't surprising because the bugger is always sick. Like always.

So Sydney. That was an experience. And I can honestly say from the heart now that being homeless is very tough going. It still doesn't make me want to give my change to homeless people though because I know for a fact the ones on Fitzroy street have somewhere to stay. They are just drug addicts who have pissed and shooted up their lives.

But yeah being homeless is hard when you technically don't have anywhere to sleep. Me and Kev literally slept wherever we could which included on the steps of the Sydney opera house before kindly being literally kicked by the police off it. And I mean literally kicked; they kicked Kev in the side to wake him up. We were in and out of different 24 hour restaurants and visited subway everyday so we could steal their plug sockets to charge our phones lol.

The fireworks.. Whilst pretty good were nothing in comparison to London's. I have a video which I will upload at some point but for now please enjoy the pics! We went to see the blue mountains which were gorgeous looking. I asked this woman from Plymouth to take a pic of me with the three sisters and the stupid dumb tart put her finger directly over them!! Christ alive that girl was dumb. She had a proper Plymo accent and sounded full on retarded. I wish I had an example of the truely thick things she said but i was so tired on the trip that I barely remembered where I actually was never mind what a country bumpkin knuckle dragger was saying!!

Oo I also went to a wildlife park and fed a load of kangaroos. There was this one kangaroo that was particular greedy so I shouted at him and said "no what about your mates?!".. At which point he stood up on his back legs and actually blocked out the sun. The kanga was MASSIVE!! Like a good 6'4!! I promptly provided him with the rest of the kangaroo food. I then kissed his nose because he was super squishy. I wishes to take him home and play with him all day.

I stroked a koala bear again too. I am full on desperate to hold one so I am going to HAVE to go to Queensland before they ban it there too. It's the only state left in Aus that hasn't banned it.

The hospital was amazing. There was a Russian sounding girl came in looking a little bit ill. She sits down behind us and switches on her laptop. Skype pops up and she's on the phone to someone within minutes. Now.. I missed some of the conversation because I was asleep (for the first time in 56 hours!!) but Kev told me what happened for the bits I missed.. So say all of this in a Russian accent!!...

"hello. I am at the hospital now. I have very bad diarrhoea. I took pills to stop it but they didn't work! So.. I crush the pills and snort them so they go to the brain quicker. That didn't work either so now I have a sore nose and very bad gas"

The whole room erupted in laughter. People actually had to leave because they couldn't stop laughing!! She then in an upset voice went "and now they are laughing at me. They don't understand my pain". Funniest thing ever. There were tears and urine. Even the guy who was throwing up black bile every other minute was laughing!

Going back to work was slightly wank but it was really nice to see Shaun and Mathew, Rodney and Mel again. I had missed them over that week!

In other news, Kev has moved out to go farming!! And I have spent two evenings cleaning the flat up to Sarah Bear clean standards in preparation for Mr Potato!!! That's right y'all.. Mr Greene is coming to live it up in Chez Rowlandez!! It's going to be simply rocking. And I have already packed the fridge with cider in readiness. Yay!!! I do kind of miss Kev but when the house looks this pretty and he's sending me home money, I actually don't miss him at all haha. Sorry Kev.

So.. Slight reflection on my year I think. What a fucking year. I survived hideous swine flu that nearly killed me, I almost jumped in front of a train but Timmy saved me, I was given an interview to start midwifery and gave it all up at the toss of a coin to go travelling, I visited and made friends in 9 different countries, I finally shagged an Irish man so can tick that off the bucket list! I have almost learnt to make pancakes and.. And this is a biggie.. Whilst I might not be the slimmest or the prettiest.. I Miss Rowlands have managed to get myself into a UK size 12 for the first time since 2003. Fuck. Aye.

I am so proud of myself for last years achievements. I worked so very very hard to get over to Australia and if u look at my last years resos, I have achieved one of my biggest dreams and that was to live in Melbourne. And I'm so happy :)

This years resos...
1. Must learn to knit
2. Sky dive. It's been on here too many times so its being done!
3. Go to the F1
4. Try an oyster... Sickening
5. Relearn French
6. Learn and get a motorbike. This one is important
7. Stab Mathew Daniel Kiervan.. Equally as important
8. Be home for Christmas
9. Learn to fish.

Thank you for reading my blog guys. And thank you for being amazing people in 2011. Xxx