Gotta love technology. The BF and I have now relocated to what is slowing turning into a particularly lovely basement flat on the High Street. I’d planned (sort of) for all the pain in the derriere that comes with moving, but what I hadn’t planned for is that it is apparently impossible to get a broadband engineer to hook up a new connection after October 31. Pricks, the lot of them. On top of this, it seems that every piece of expensive technology I own has either been sat on (screen ruined), thrown down the toilet or Dettol-ed to within an inch of its life and rendered, therefore, useless.
All of which is a longwinded way of saying “Sorry y’all”. I know I’ve been AWOL. Let’s take a moment to catch up on THE EXCTING THING THAT’S JUST HAPPENED.
You may be able to guess by the close proximity of my fellow passenger, and by the hint of hideous maroon behind me, that the BF and I are on a plane. One of those international ones too. Faaaancy.
Everytime we fly, he gets that terrified and yet excited look in his eye that is proportionate to the proximity of little trays of packaged food. Being fed and watching movies for 17 hours, a happy BF does make..
This is me Pa. Which means, yes folks, that thing did happen. I went home. Five glorious uninterrupted weeks of the people I love best (most of them anyway, there is one or two still lurking in the UK) and the ones that love me. Sunshine. Wine. Bathers. Beach. Sun up at 5am and down at 8pm. Why don’t I live here again?
I don’t remember Perth being so humid, or as I prefer to say, yumid. I can tell ya, it’s been a little sticky out here, but that works for me too, I just pretend I’m in Bali. As if being in Australia wasn’t luxurious enough. LOL.
We spent yesterday faffing about, walking down the main drags being all “Geez hasn’t this all changed” and also “Geez this hasn’t changed a bit”, like two faintly annoying (and yet terribly breathtakingly good looking) tourists. The best bit? Australia’s version of John Lewis, David Jones Department Store, used to do the most amazing sushi. $2.95 for a freshly made roll, and you could take your pick from fresh salmon, tuna, teriyaki chicken or salmon, or even tempura prawn. Sweet baby Jesus these were amazing. I worked at DJs for about two or three years, and those blissful years are remembered by a terrible addiction to overly expensive things, from which I’ve somewhat successfully weaned myself off, and also a sushi addiction, for which there is no cure.
Happily, the sushi bar remains. Which basically means I’m packing my things and taking up residence in DJs. I’ll sleep on one of the demo beds. It’s been done before.
Peace out lovers.