Where has the time gone..

If someone had asked me 20 years ago, what I would be doing on the 3rd of November, 2008, I can't think what I would have said.

But 15 years ago, I'm pretty sure I would have said I would be a star of the stage.

10 years ago I would have been a touch more realistic and would have said working for the United Nations as an environmental development officer in Sri Lanka.

Five years ago I would have said I would be now working in my first international posting for the New Zealand Foreign Affairs and Trade. Maybe somewhere in South America.

One year ago I would have said I would have just started my intensive Japanese language studies for my Masters research.

And here I am. The third day into November - 2008 and I'm sitting by myself in a crappy 1980's office building, waiting for an engineer to come out to fix the alarm system at 7pm on a Monday night. Not only is it dark outside, but it is raining. And I'm meant to be sitting in a Covent Garden theatre right now watching a play.

I can't see much light on this dark Monday night.

I have never...

I feel like I have squeezed a fair few things into the last 28 and a half years. But as I was walking the waterfront the other day, I made a long mental list of the things that so far I have never...

I have never read War & Peace. I have never been to Africa. I have never shoplifted. I have never eaten snake. I have never sung solo in public. I have never run a marathon. I have never been to the supermarket in my pyjamas. I have never swum in the Atlantic Ocean. I have never been in love.

I have never break-danced. I have never changed a car tyre. I have never seen Angkor Wat. I have never been to a strip club. I have never seen a glacier. I have never tasted truffle. I have never ridden in a limousine.

I have never walked out of a job. I have never been to a massive concert. I have never painted on canvas. I have never slid down a bannister. I have never seen the Northern Lights. I have never been on a sunbed. I have never had anything waxed. I have never seen Pulp Fiction. I have never owned a shell suit.

Pick-a-path

I was meant to be half a world away by now.

I would have been soaking up some New Zealand springtime before packing up and leaving again.

But I changed my mind.

Some of you may know that somehow I managed to bag an all-expenses paid stint at a university in Japan. Kick-off: October 2008. Next week. 18 months of research in a topic of my choosing.

But Japan is a very hard place to live. And when it came to the crunch, the thought of going back there freaked me out a little. Besides, I'm in love. With a wonderful city called London.

I feared I would regret giving up the opportunity. Some people would kill for it. But since I finally made up my mind, I have never once looked back. Everyday I wake up in the knowledge that I have made the right decision. Picked the right path.

London: it has been magnificent. And if you are ok with it, I'd like to stay please. What was meant to be a brief affair has turned into a proper long-term relationship. I love your crisp autumn mornings where the low hanging sun bounces off Clapham Common; your incredibly talented collection of buskers; your heaving pubs on a Friday lunch for a fish finger sandwich and a pint of Strongbow; your quirky and slightly throaty laugh and roguish, scruffy nature.

It is nice to finally feel roots grow from my feet and have no more moves tattooed in my future.

Thanks London. It's so nice to call you home.

Summer's ugly stepsister

Unfortunately for every summer, there must be an autumn. Even for a summer like this year's one, which felt pretty much like autumn anyway.

Summer is always going to be one tough act to follow. What can autumn offer that summer didn't?

Crisp sunny mornings; walks to and from the tube in half-light. Colourful death dropping from deciduous trees. Promise of short days and wintry nights.

Frantic searchings for matching gloves on frosty mornings; Tuesday evenings in with a bottle of cheap red and a good friend. An excuse to lie in for an extra hour on a rainy Sunday morning.

Steaming bowls of soup in cheap Clapham cafe. Beers on a Saturday afternoon on a couch at the Windmill.

Fortunately for every autumn, you know that a spring is sleeping somewhere in the not too distant future.

Moving Mania

My life has been taken over by moving lives from one place to another.

Two weeks ago my company said goodbye to the Borough Market; to sunsets over London Bridge; to the Nazis on downstairs security.




We packed everything and moved east. Temporarily. While we find a home worthy of our fabulousness. Until that time we are bunking down in an 80s revival office at the arse end of Canary Wharf, London's pinstriped financial district. Someone really needs to invent a new shirt pattern.

And so I said goodbye to my cathartic walks to work. Hello to tube rides in and out of a station where I am always the only person wearing jeans. Unless I'm with a colleague.

Not only has my work life relocated, but shortly my home life will do the same.

Yes, it is also goodbye to 11 Langham House.

Hello 196 Cedars Road. Hello a slightly more civilised living space and two wonderful women. Goodbye lovely housemates. Fortunately I wont be saying goodbye to Clapham. I tried to move north but instead the fates wished me to stay. And so I move from the south side to the north side of the Common.

A little further from the tube station. A little closer to..... well, a little closer a few things really.

Yes, I am alive

No I didn't fall in front of a tube. And no, I didn't fall victim to a nasty late-night kebab. And I definitely wasn't whisked away by a knight in shining armour. Nope.

Instead I am only just emerging from a dark, dark time of 12-15 hour days of work. It all culminated in a weekend where I managed to squeeze a week's work into 2.5 days. I actually even slept at work for one night. All of an hour and a half kip on the blue sofa downstairs (5.30am) before waking (7am) showering, drinking rivers of coffee, eating three slices of cold pizza, and starting the day all over again.

I am only now rediscovering my sense of humour. A long weekend at the Edinburgh Comedy Festival helped me with just that.

Now I must do some much neglected laundry. And talk to these strange people in my home who seem to think they are my housemates.

An anti-religious experience

I could never understand some New Zealanders being so incredibly awestruck when they met famous rugby players.

But last night, I had that feeling. I sat perched in a chair for two hours, leaning forward, eyes wide, hands clasped.

Seven foot in front of me, on a stage I could have reached out and touched, was Salman Rushdie. Talking away quite happily, in his casual black trainers and slightly baggy jeans scuffed at the heel, about his book Midnight's Children which just won the Best of Booker Prize.

If Salman and I weren't such atheists, it would have been a religious experience.

5 reasons why I'm in love with London right now

1. Post codes

I love the postcodes in this country. I love the way when you are internet shopping you type your post code in and it tells you your address. They only introduced post codes into New Zealand last year and they have 4 digits.

2. Berry berry nice

Right now I'm eating bran flakes with possibly the sweetest raspberries I've ever tasted. Bought as I walked into work this morning from the fruit man outside who calls me darlin'.

3. Sunshine

BBC tells me it is going to be 28 degrees today.

4. The Guardian

This genius newspaper will always be on my top 5 list of great things in this city.

5. So much to do, so little time....

Surely it is impossible to be bored in this city. On Saturday I'm going to a Pirate party on a boat on the Thames. Two Saturdays ago I broke a world mass dancing record in Trafalgar Square with 2000 other people.

Post-dating comedown

What is next when you have just finished 17 dates in 17 consecutive days? I have to say that I am now at somewhat of a loss.

It is very strange to finish work and not have to rush off to a pre-arranged location within London, to meet a friend of a friend of a friend's colleague.

I just don't know how I can top this stunt. But any ideas would be most welcome.

A Duvet Sandwich

Years of sleeping alone in large beds has done strange things to me.

For the last few months I have found myself sleeping diagonally. Occasionally I would wake up to find myself peculiarly perpendicular.

But most recently I have moved to the duvet sandwich style of sleep.

I lie on top of half my duvet and fold the other half over me so I resemble a sort of white poofy synthetic slug.

It really is awfully comfortable.