I promised myself that I'd never have a 9 to 5 job after traveling.
I can't even go back to the fitness level I left so let alone a 9 to 5 job.
Yes I still wake up at 6 to go run around on the beach with BMF, a bunch of crazy Brits and have a military fitness instructor yelling at me for 4 hours a week '' 76 wake uuuup'' or '' kiss the bench and wave the sun good bye’’ ( it's 6.45 AM)
And I can see myself last year, running around proudly wearing my green bib, proof of me reaching the highest fitness level ever.
'' Were you not a Green before ?'' Someone asks me as I still was day dreaming about my glorious days.
Yes . And now I'm a blue. A freaking beginner
No one goes from Green to Blue unless they had a massive injury that changed their life. NO ONE.
'' So what happened to you?''
'' Australia happened, mate , Australia''
No, you don't know the real meaning of chilling out until you actually live in Oz. Or when you come back to Europe after you lived in Oz for a while.
Then you can spot the Aussie tourists in England straight away. They are the only ones to 1/ take pictures of bloody squirrels. 2/ walk effortlessly everywhere in their thongs ( you pick the meaning you want to give to that) with a ‘’no wuckers mate’’ grin on their face. And 3 jumpers when it's still 20 English degrees.
So yes, I 've got to learn it all again. But how come I was fitter when I was a smoker? I asked my instructor. He asked me what exactly I was smoking.
So I had to have a conversation with my body . '' Look mate , you're 32. You can't give up on me just because I neglected you a bit for a few months. I gave up smoking , meat and sex for you ( latter not my choice but anyway) so you and me have to be friends again ''
Be patient. Yeah, right.
In Australia I became a spiritual being, you see. As in hugging trees and giving unconditional love to total strangers in a castle in the bush at 7pm every Wednesday night ( I love you guys)
I Australia I was clearing my chakras more often than I was going for a run.
In Australia 9 to 5 was my meditation schedule. The rest of the time ? Chill out with loved ones.
In Australia I did not rest 2 days a week, I WORKED 2 days a week.
In Australia my real job was spiritual healer. And I was my main patient. So I was always broke. But still happy (silly peaceful grin of face)
In Australia I got in touch with my Spirit.
And in a Buddhist monastery in Thailand I even lost track of my body.
In England I’m trying to re unite both.
So no, I definitely can't do a 9 to 5 job anymore. My current job is cool. Working with a bunch of crazy future ex travellers in my favourite backpackers hostel in Brighton is my thing.
It’s the type of job when you show up in the morning you know that there is no way you can predict what’s going to happen.
You will either be carrying a giant penis balloon to a 10 bedded dorm full of drunk English girls for a hen or you will try to guess who fell down the stairs drunk last night ( and that’s just the staff) looking back on CCTV cameras or come up in the morning and find your work computer screen having a life of its own. You will then catch yourself screaming the name of the night receptionist who obviously can’t hear you since he’s just gone to bed after eating his last ice cream 10 minutes before you showed up.
After 10 minutes of panic and hallucination you learn that it was your geeky boss playing a practical joke. He has full control of the work computer from his own house, miles away.
Of course. Where was I the past 10 years.
The type of job where the first thing your 20 year old gay manager tells you as he first moved in with you in your flat is ‘’ I have plenty of condoms, help yourself’’
So, no. This is no 9 to 5 job. I can safely keep in touch with my Spirit here.
And guess what? I checked in 2 spiritual healers into a dorm the other day! If spiritual healers start checking in to backpackers hostels the world is ready to hear about Spirituality.
‘’ Did you hear there were 2 witches staying in my dorm? ‘’ says a colleague of mine with panic.
Maybe not quite ready yet….
Unless someone they KNOW is also a witch.
And they got used to me lying on the floor with the impossibility to move since I could not align my body with my Spirit. No one found that weird. Not weirder than anything else in Brighton anyway.
‘’ Just try to breathe’’
‘’ I’m trying, darling believe me, but all I can do is stare at the ceiling. And make an occasional bed because hey, that’s my job dude’’ And My crazy colleagues get that. They even lied on the floor with me today. I love them.
So imagine ME in a 9 to 5 job.
No, that‘s NOT funny. To those who have ever smoked pot : that’s exactly the same feeling, but without your lungs turning dark grey.
For those who have never smoked pot: what the hell did you do with your life.
This state implies walking around the hostel with a ‘’ I can see dead people face’’ ( I can’t really but I can hear them. Haha. Gotya. Not yet actually. ), make
ing the worst mistake you can do in a backpackers hostel ( no it’s NOT sleeping with a guest , THAT is fine. It’s called an overbooking) or throw yourself in the English channel at 6pm to make it stop.
When all you REALLY need is your favourite 61 year old Aussie woman ( see previous post) to grab your hands and shake them firmly , saying ‘’ Now you’re grounded. Feeling better?’’ and then walk away.
Wow another person in touch with her Spirit. Oh sorry, another witch. Dear God, they’re everywhere.
It’s good to be a witch because you have a good insight on people’s patterns. You can with no problem say to your best friend
‘’ Look , if this guy does not reply to your email it’s because you reject yourself from the start. You play the best buddy, try to set him up with someone else when all you want is to have a relationship with him but you’re scared to get hurt. That’s ridiculous!’’ with a proud look on your face because you know you are spot on.
But the answer can surprise you.
‘’ I think you are right. But are we still talking about me or are we also talking about you here ? ’’
‘Me? I am SO not like that. ‘’
Oh. Shit.
Because , EVERYONE is a spiritual healer. We usually have no idea we are.
Yes, that’s why I promised myself I will never have a 9 to 5 job again. Because I need time for witchcraft.
Just need to check my working schedule for next week before I go.
‘’9am to 5pm , just like last week ‘’
HA.HA.
Because it’s all about the attitude.
A french girl discovering ze world, other cultures, people and herself...
Friday, 16 September 2011
Monday, 12 September 2011
Just do it
I've started my book. How cool is that. What? I've already said that in June? And July? And August?
No but this time it is real , Mate. My facebook status says so. It MUST be true.
What is it about? Why do you ask so many questions. You'll see when you read it.
I HAVE NO IDEA. Something about the past 8 months of my life. Or is it years?
But when you are naturally full on and disorganised HOW DO YOU WRITE A BOOK ABOUT YOU?
Where do I start....
You don't know how full on you are until you start working with someone as full on as you. And when he is 20 years old , gay and he is your manager it gets even more exciting. Like the kind of guy who shows up at your flat at 9am for a glass of water after jogging around Brighton twice and tells you '' my penis is freaking freezing'' and disapears. Yeah , that one.
Working with him is like watching myself in a miror.
We both came to the freaky conclusion '' is that REALLY how I am? '' F******
Dude, we need to help each other out on that one.
We 1 / energize each other and exhaust other people. As in we're dancing on Queen when everyone else is attempting to watch football quietly ( BO-RING) at 4pm.
2/ we Exhaust each other. The first day we worked together he slept for 12h after that and I dropped dead on my living room floor ( no there wasn't any drunk english guy sleeping , I checked first) and got depressed for about half a day
. We are so chatty on check with guest . Our jokes are in stereo. They must drop dead on their bed as soon as we shut the door behind them . At least they get a good night sleep. I guess it's good we're working in a hostel.
So yeah. When do you start your traveling book when the past 8 months of your life have been as full on as YOU are , and as disorganised as YOU are.
'' Hey , How u doiiiin' . I'm writing a book and you'll be in it'' was my best pick up line the past months. Not I have really picked anyone up actually . They probably waiting til the book is published. And I must have said that to 5788 people all around the world.
Damn. Got to write this book.
Where do I start. Australia? Malaysia? UK? Thailand?
FRANCE? Don't be silly. It's just where I'm from.
Yes, Being a citizen of the world IS a hard life.
Not that I've got a good ending either.
Forget about Prince Charming and all that crap.Although I have a few good gay guys in store. They probably would be good princesses. None of them want to be my Queen though ( I did ask)
The thing is , everytime I say I start the book, there is something in the way.
In May my laptop broke.
In july I bought a fake made in China I pad because I thought it was time but ....
1/ there was no note pad so I had to pretend to write an email to myself everytime wanted to add a page to my fantastic non existant book .
2/ My writing speed never exceeded 1 word per minute. Approximate age when book published : 83 years old. Forget about picking ANYONE up then.
In August I decided to stay in this monastery in Thailand for ever and hand write the book. A wake up call later I was checking my emails on my new smart phone back in the UK. And no book so far...
Here we are. September. Who and what am I going to blame for NOT starting this book this time.
WORK? Yeah that's a good one. Used to work all the time. Socialising ? No sorry I've got to work. I wish but I have to work tonight. Relationship? Sorry no time. Where would I fit that in my work schedule I've got responsibilities you know. . Loving people? No sorry I've got to check them in.
Well that was before. Now I have an extra day off a week and I'm not the manager anymore.
Can't blame work....
DATING
My only recent offer came from a 61 year old Australian woman.
That was a good pick up line though
'' I'm going out to the shops , anyone need anything?'' someone asked
'' A good woman'' she answered , looking at me straight in the eye.
Mate, you rock.
I did hesitate for a minute ...
ENGLISH PEOPLE . That's a good one for the french. That's what we do best. We blame the English. We still haven't digested that Joan of Arc story probably . So we blame the Brits. Especially those who don't call back .
What? He's also waiting until the book is published ?
Where have I been the past 10 years?
No, I can't blame the Brits either. I love them . They're too funny.
BRITISH WEATHER . I can't write today. It's too miserable out there. hahaha . That one can NEVER go wrong.
Until someone points out the ugly truth.
'' Do you HAVE TO write in the rain?''
Get an umbrella dude.
No , writing a book is not easy.
Ideas will come to you at the weirdest time. it's like wanting the loo when you're in a phone box.
and it stops as you walk in the nearest public toilet. Damn you spent 5p for nothing.
Yeah , writing is a bit like that.
I wake up at 3 am with the best 1st chapter I can dream of. If only I could be bothered getting out of bed and actually write it. Sure. I'll remember it tomorrow.
Give me a BREAK I can hardly work until 11.30pm already. I'm currently trying to blackmail Totoro, our night receptionist with ice cream and pizza so he comes half an hour early because I NEED MY BED . If you check in after 9pm my customer service drops to ''bitch level'' unless you feed me with an insane amount of caramels.
Oh and no , Totoro is NOT is real name. Thank God. ( he chose it though) And no, he still does not want my ice creams. He makes me wait until 11.29pm . Just for a laugh. Am thinking about upgrading to pepperoni pizza next time.
And you want ME to wake up at 3am TO WRITE?
Yes , ideas come when I'm working as well. Last night I was putting laundry away and I had to run down the stairs like a drug addict maniac and someone with intestine problems . No people don't notice. It's Brighton dude. It's normal here.
Where's my damn notebook.
'' Can you cover reception for 2 minutes I've GOT to write something'' I say to my german colleague adding that SHE will be in my book too. For sure ( How uuuuuu doin'?)
Like it's an emergency. Like it's life threatening.
She was happy to cover. She could change my boring music to austrian rap while I was sitting on the floor laughing my ass off because I think It's so funny what I'm writing.
Ideas come at anytime in any language. too. Although Spanish tend to be when I'm insanely drunk and german when I'm deeply depressed. Italian? No , not anymore thank you.
Usually it's frenglish notes that I can barely decipher the next day when I actually have time to write.
But all I can do is staring blankly at my screen, drink coffee and cry watching Grey 's Anatomy season 6.
Yes , travel writers are a bit mad. We usually blacklist them from the hostel
.
A paranoid crazy woman, who was still yelling my name on the street 15 minutes after I kicked her out last year, claimed to be a travel writer.
''Race-A-Lot you have no right to treat me like this , I'm a wriiiiiiter!''
My name is Raclot but I like Race -a- lot too actually . How did she know my surname? Dude. Don't ask.
This other guy who was stinking so much we had to tell him to go have a shower if he wanted to stay. He was a travel writer too.
So you know what I'm risking if I actually write this book?
I decided to relocate my writing spot in my friend's coffee shop so if it all goes wrong I can still have good coffee and advertise '' Redwood Coffee shop Brighton'' in my book.
When I start it.
In the mean time I can still have crazy full on conversations with my manager . The other day he ended up telling me :
'' What you say makes so much sense. You should write a book''
NO KIDDING .
But where do I start? Hang on a minute. THIS could be a great start right?
Because sometimes when you really want to do something. Like REALLY REALLY. You've got to stop THINKING about it find excuses, let go , And ... JUST DO IT.
What are YOU waiting for ?
No but this time it is real , Mate. My facebook status says so. It MUST be true.
What is it about? Why do you ask so many questions. You'll see when you read it.
I HAVE NO IDEA. Something about the past 8 months of my life. Or is it years?
But when you are naturally full on and disorganised HOW DO YOU WRITE A BOOK ABOUT YOU?
Where do I start....
You don't know how full on you are until you start working with someone as full on as you. And when he is 20 years old , gay and he is your manager it gets even more exciting. Like the kind of guy who shows up at your flat at 9am for a glass of water after jogging around Brighton twice and tells you '' my penis is freaking freezing'' and disapears. Yeah , that one.
Working with him is like watching myself in a miror.
We both came to the freaky conclusion '' is that REALLY how I am? '' F******
Dude, we need to help each other out on that one.
We 1 / energize each other and exhaust other people. As in we're dancing on Queen when everyone else is attempting to watch football quietly ( BO-RING) at 4pm.
2/ we Exhaust each other. The first day we worked together he slept for 12h after that and I dropped dead on my living room floor ( no there wasn't any drunk english guy sleeping , I checked first) and got depressed for about half a day
. We are so chatty on check with guest . Our jokes are in stereo. They must drop dead on their bed as soon as we shut the door behind them . At least they get a good night sleep. I guess it's good we're working in a hostel.
So yeah. When do you start your traveling book when the past 8 months of your life have been as full on as YOU are , and as disorganised as YOU are.
'' Hey , How u doiiiin' . I'm writing a book and you'll be in it'' was my best pick up line the past months. Not I have really picked anyone up actually . They probably waiting til the book is published. And I must have said that to 5788 people all around the world.
Damn. Got to write this book.
Where do I start. Australia? Malaysia? UK? Thailand?
FRANCE? Don't be silly. It's just where I'm from.
Yes, Being a citizen of the world IS a hard life.
Not that I've got a good ending either.
Forget about Prince Charming and all that crap.Although I have a few good gay guys in store. They probably would be good princesses. None of them want to be my Queen though ( I did ask)
The thing is , everytime I say I start the book, there is something in the way.
In May my laptop broke.
In july I bought a fake made in China I pad because I thought it was time but ....
1/ there was no note pad so I had to pretend to write an email to myself everytime wanted to add a page to my fantastic non existant book .
2/ My writing speed never exceeded 1 word per minute. Approximate age when book published : 83 years old. Forget about picking ANYONE up then.
In August I decided to stay in this monastery in Thailand for ever and hand write the book. A wake up call later I was checking my emails on my new smart phone back in the UK. And no book so far...
Here we are. September. Who and what am I going to blame for NOT starting this book this time.
WORK? Yeah that's a good one. Used to work all the time. Socialising ? No sorry I've got to work. I wish but I have to work tonight. Relationship? Sorry no time. Where would I fit that in my work schedule I've got responsibilities you know. . Loving people? No sorry I've got to check them in.
Well that was before. Now I have an extra day off a week and I'm not the manager anymore.
Can't blame work....
DATING
My only recent offer came from a 61 year old Australian woman.
That was a good pick up line though
'' I'm going out to the shops , anyone need anything?'' someone asked
'' A good woman'' she answered , looking at me straight in the eye.
Mate, you rock.
I did hesitate for a minute ...
ENGLISH PEOPLE . That's a good one for the french. That's what we do best. We blame the English. We still haven't digested that Joan of Arc story probably . So we blame the Brits. Especially those who don't call back .
What? He's also waiting until the book is published ?
Where have I been the past 10 years?
No, I can't blame the Brits either. I love them . They're too funny.
BRITISH WEATHER . I can't write today. It's too miserable out there. hahaha . That one can NEVER go wrong.
Until someone points out the ugly truth.
'' Do you HAVE TO write in the rain?''
Get an umbrella dude.
No , writing a book is not easy.
Ideas will come to you at the weirdest time. it's like wanting the loo when you're in a phone box.
and it stops as you walk in the nearest public toilet. Damn you spent 5p for nothing.
Yeah , writing is a bit like that.
I wake up at 3 am with the best 1st chapter I can dream of. If only I could be bothered getting out of bed and actually write it. Sure. I'll remember it tomorrow.
Give me a BREAK I can hardly work until 11.30pm already. I'm currently trying to blackmail Totoro, our night receptionist with ice cream and pizza so he comes half an hour early because I NEED MY BED . If you check in after 9pm my customer service drops to ''bitch level'' unless you feed me with an insane amount of caramels.
Oh and no , Totoro is NOT is real name. Thank God. ( he chose it though) And no, he still does not want my ice creams. He makes me wait until 11.29pm . Just for a laugh. Am thinking about upgrading to pepperoni pizza next time.
And you want ME to wake up at 3am TO WRITE?
Yes , ideas come when I'm working as well. Last night I was putting laundry away and I had to run down the stairs like a drug addict maniac and someone with intestine problems . No people don't notice. It's Brighton dude. It's normal here.
Where's my damn notebook.
'' Can you cover reception for 2 minutes I've GOT to write something'' I say to my german colleague adding that SHE will be in my book too. For sure ( How uuuuuu doin'?)
Like it's an emergency. Like it's life threatening.
She was happy to cover. She could change my boring music to austrian rap while I was sitting on the floor laughing my ass off because I think It's so funny what I'm writing.
Ideas come at anytime in any language. too. Although Spanish tend to be when I'm insanely drunk and german when I'm deeply depressed. Italian? No , not anymore thank you.
Usually it's frenglish notes that I can barely decipher the next day when I actually have time to write.
But all I can do is staring blankly at my screen, drink coffee and cry watching Grey 's Anatomy season 6.
Yes , travel writers are a bit mad. We usually blacklist them from the hostel
.
A paranoid crazy woman, who was still yelling my name on the street 15 minutes after I kicked her out last year, claimed to be a travel writer.
''Race-A-Lot you have no right to treat me like this , I'm a wriiiiiiter!''
My name is Raclot but I like Race -a- lot too actually . How did she know my surname? Dude. Don't ask.
This other guy who was stinking so much we had to tell him to go have a shower if he wanted to stay. He was a travel writer too.
So you know what I'm risking if I actually write this book?
I decided to relocate my writing spot in my friend's coffee shop so if it all goes wrong I can still have good coffee and advertise '' Redwood Coffee shop Brighton'' in my book.
When I start it.
In the mean time I can still have crazy full on conversations with my manager . The other day he ended up telling me :
'' What you say makes so much sense. You should write a book''
NO KIDDING .
But where do I start? Hang on a minute. THIS could be a great start right?
Because sometimes when you really want to do something. Like REALLY REALLY. You've got to stop THINKING about it find excuses, let go , And ... JUST DO IT.
What are YOU waiting for ?
Thursday, 8 September 2011
The young and the restless
My manager is 20.
My work mates are slightly older ( shame on them)
I feel like I was born in the 18th Century and woke up last week.
You know you don't take responsibilty for your age when you hesitate more than 2 seconds to answer the question
'' How old are you ? ''
I usually say '' younger than Lee''. It makes me feels better.
So yeah , I feel like I've been asleep for about 185 years.
What? We don't buy fish tanks anymore nowadays ?
No. We buy a DVD.
Just select Menu... Aquarium, fish noise and there you are. Finding Nemo or saving Willy . It saves to feed the fish and you also have the log fire option for Winter.
Awesome.
Where have I been the past 10 years.
So of course on my first evening shift back I pretended to be 20 and know it all.
'' You guys go out, mummy can handle this''
Why is that thing ringing? it's a digital PHOTO ALBUM. Is it REALLY supposed to be an ALARM CLOCK too? And why 9pm? Probably to wake ME up. It was 10 minutes past my bed time anyway.
So... what would a 20 year old do in this case? Touch the screen. That's it.
After 2 long minutes of pure laughter the other staff decided to tell me.
'' You know there is an on and off switch...right?''
Sure.
Then came the reminders by email. There is a Google reminder for everything nowadays. Forgot to breathe? Ask Google to remind you.
'' Charge the electric sweeper''
mmm what? Is that the thing we used to call a vacuum cleaner?
NO it's an electric SWEEPER. aaaaaaaaaah okay I understand better now.
Kipps 2.1 . That's where I was.
Annabelle 0.1. That's who I was.
'' Can we please have another key to our room ''Madame?'' says one of our french regulars.
Ma.... what?
So you're talking to me right? M.A.D.A.M.E...... You know I kicked people out of this hostel for less than that?
Annabelle 0.1
I had to do something
32 going on 23...
So what do ''youngsters'' do nowadays. ( When you start calling them youngsters it can only go wrong)
How did I know I was doing well? I gained 6 Facebook friends in 6 days.
Annabelle 1.1
It's all about attitude.
What do you do when you wake up and there's a drunk English guy sleeping on your living room floor? You take a picture , put it on Facebook , make your coffee and go back to your room. Of course.
If I know him? Actually yeah. He's a friend.
How did he get the keys? They get passed around. In 6 days I shared the flat with 2 German girls , a Spanish dude and my English best friend. How much fun.
It's all about attitude.
But I had yet to make up for my lack of new technology knowledge. SO I bought a smart phone.
Buying it was already an adventure.
'' I want that one'' . I say to the guy pointing towards a million phones
'' You mean the Alcatel OT-980, madam?''
Piss off.
50 quid later ( yeah I can't eat this week but that's the choice a 20 year old would make right?
Smartphone VS surviving.... Food is SO last year.
So there I was , proudly holding my first piece of 21st century. I sat in the shopping centre for 30 minutes, playing with my new apps, going on facebook. How cool is that.
What 's my number? BECAUSE IT'S ALSO A PHONE? aaaaaaaah. No idea.
I finally gave up and called my hungover best friend so he can give me my new name. 07 something I believe.
The next day? I had no credit left. Who did I call? No one... Damn 3G ....
And how do you stop the bloody alarm anyway. So at 6 am you have to select menu , alarm , snooze. Seriously. Next time I'll buy one that picks up my voice '' Stop that bloody noise or I'll throw you out of the fucking window''
Annabelle 2.0
To be a perfect 20 year old in England you HAVE to wear a tiny mini skirt in the cold and rain. That's how you pass the '' party animal test''
So I did.
3 tequilas later I was dancing ON the bar at my work place with a hot gay Spanish guy drinking from the bottle. Who was filming? My boss. He can blackmail me for ever now. And it's just my first week back. Beat me , you youngsters.
Annabelle 2.1
Well I passed the test. Until I realized that there was no test. Just me thinking I was different. They always thought I was cool. In my own way.
We're all the same in the end. 20's, 30's , 40's.
Because guess what '' youngsters'' , it does not stop when you reach 30. That shit you feel. You just learn to deal with it .
After 30 you still wait for that guy you like to reply to your emails.
'' If he stops liking your facebook status that's it Dude. Move on''
Of course. Where have I been the past 10 years.
Yeah you need them , the 20 year olds. Just as they need you to listen to them , to make them feel secure because you bloody know what it's like not to be.
Because yes, after 30 you are still insecure. But you cover it up. You are still scared to wait for that text message that will never come. So You just don't buy a phone..... So you don't have to expect that there will be no text message. So you don't feel rejected. Twisted?
I can't wait to be 40.
That's when you need your 20 year olds to remind you '' Or you can just buy a phone and NOT give HIM the number''
That makes sense '' Dude'' ....
'' Or you can also face the fact'' says another one.
Face the What? Don't be silly.
So yeah , after 30 you're still scared shitless when you come back to your comfort zone and see that it's not there anymore. That all you thought you were , you no longer are.
SO you still drink yourself silly, eat yourself crazy to forget that how painful that all is. And how scared you are to re build it all.
But after 30 you know , somewhere deep inside that it's all bullshit. And guess what? It's YOUR bullshit.
There is no one and nothing else to blame for it ( Not even a little bit? NO.)
So you just shut up deal with it.
Painful? Tell ME about it.
So, until there is an App to deal with that I will look after my 20 year olds .
And until I can do it myself I will need my 20 year olds to help me move to my life ... 2.1
In the mean time you can still follow me on Twitter, Dude.
You know ,
My work mates are slightly older ( shame on them)
I feel like I was born in the 18th Century and woke up last week.
You know you don't take responsibilty for your age when you hesitate more than 2 seconds to answer the question
'' How old are you ? ''
I usually say '' younger than Lee''. It makes me feels better.
So yeah , I feel like I've been asleep for about 185 years.
What? We don't buy fish tanks anymore nowadays ?
No. We buy a DVD.
Just select Menu... Aquarium, fish noise and there you are. Finding Nemo or saving Willy . It saves to feed the fish and you also have the log fire option for Winter.
Awesome.
Where have I been the past 10 years.
So of course on my first evening shift back I pretended to be 20 and know it all.
'' You guys go out, mummy can handle this''
Why is that thing ringing? it's a digital PHOTO ALBUM. Is it REALLY supposed to be an ALARM CLOCK too? And why 9pm? Probably to wake ME up. It was 10 minutes past my bed time anyway.
So... what would a 20 year old do in this case? Touch the screen. That's it.
After 2 long minutes of pure laughter the other staff decided to tell me.
'' You know there is an on and off switch...right?''
Sure.
Then came the reminders by email. There is a Google reminder for everything nowadays. Forgot to breathe? Ask Google to remind you.
'' Charge the electric sweeper''
mmm what? Is that the thing we used to call a vacuum cleaner?
NO it's an electric SWEEPER. aaaaaaaaaah okay I understand better now.
Kipps 2.1 . That's where I was.
Annabelle 0.1. That's who I was.
'' Can we please have another key to our room ''Madame?'' says one of our french regulars.
Ma.... what?
So you're talking to me right? M.A.D.A.M.E...... You know I kicked people out of this hostel for less than that?
Annabelle 0.1
I had to do something
32 going on 23...
So what do ''youngsters'' do nowadays. ( When you start calling them youngsters it can only go wrong)
How did I know I was doing well? I gained 6 Facebook friends in 6 days.
Annabelle 1.1
It's all about attitude.
What do you do when you wake up and there's a drunk English guy sleeping on your living room floor? You take a picture , put it on Facebook , make your coffee and go back to your room. Of course.
If I know him? Actually yeah. He's a friend.
How did he get the keys? They get passed around. In 6 days I shared the flat with 2 German girls , a Spanish dude and my English best friend. How much fun.
It's all about attitude.
But I had yet to make up for my lack of new technology knowledge. SO I bought a smart phone.
Buying it was already an adventure.
'' I want that one'' . I say to the guy pointing towards a million phones
'' You mean the Alcatel OT-980, madam?''
Piss off.
50 quid later ( yeah I can't eat this week but that's the choice a 20 year old would make right?
Smartphone VS surviving.... Food is SO last year.
So there I was , proudly holding my first piece of 21st century. I sat in the shopping centre for 30 minutes, playing with my new apps, going on facebook. How cool is that.
What 's my number? BECAUSE IT'S ALSO A PHONE? aaaaaaaah. No idea.
I finally gave up and called my hungover best friend so he can give me my new name. 07 something I believe.
The next day? I had no credit left. Who did I call? No one... Damn 3G ....
And how do you stop the bloody alarm anyway. So at 6 am you have to select menu , alarm , snooze. Seriously. Next time I'll buy one that picks up my voice '' Stop that bloody noise or I'll throw you out of the fucking window''
Annabelle 2.0
To be a perfect 20 year old in England you HAVE to wear a tiny mini skirt in the cold and rain. That's how you pass the '' party animal test''
So I did.
3 tequilas later I was dancing ON the bar at my work place with a hot gay Spanish guy drinking from the bottle. Who was filming? My boss. He can blackmail me for ever now. And it's just my first week back. Beat me , you youngsters.
Annabelle 2.1
Well I passed the test. Until I realized that there was no test. Just me thinking I was different. They always thought I was cool. In my own way.
We're all the same in the end. 20's, 30's , 40's.
Because guess what '' youngsters'' , it does not stop when you reach 30. That shit you feel. You just learn to deal with it .
After 30 you still wait for that guy you like to reply to your emails.
'' If he stops liking your facebook status that's it Dude. Move on''
Of course. Where have I been the past 10 years.
Yeah you need them , the 20 year olds. Just as they need you to listen to them , to make them feel secure because you bloody know what it's like not to be.
Because yes, after 30 you are still insecure. But you cover it up. You are still scared to wait for that text message that will never come. So You just don't buy a phone..... So you don't have to expect that there will be no text message. So you don't feel rejected. Twisted?
I can't wait to be 40.
That's when you need your 20 year olds to remind you '' Or you can just buy a phone and NOT give HIM the number''
That makes sense '' Dude'' ....
'' Or you can also face the fact'' says another one.
Face the What? Don't be silly.
So yeah , after 30 you're still scared shitless when you come back to your comfort zone and see that it's not there anymore. That all you thought you were , you no longer are.
SO you still drink yourself silly, eat yourself crazy to forget that how painful that all is. And how scared you are to re build it all.
But after 30 you know , somewhere deep inside that it's all bullshit. And guess what? It's YOUR bullshit.
There is no one and nothing else to blame for it ( Not even a little bit? NO.)
So you just shut up deal with it.
Painful? Tell ME about it.
So, until there is an App to deal with that I will look after my 20 year olds .
And until I can do it myself I will need my 20 year olds to help me move to my life ... 2.1
In the mean time you can still follow me on Twitter, Dude.
You know ,
Friday, 2 September 2011
Same difference
'' So going back to an old routine then'' a friend of mine emailed me after I booked my ticket Home to England.
I already knew it would not be an old routine because :
1/ It's Brighton
2/ Everything changes
3/ it's Brighton
And how can it be an old routine with British humor in it ? Especially when your first conversation with an English man in England after 8 months sounds something like that :
ME '' Thanks for picking me up''
HIM '' I haven't even tried to pick you up . We're not even home yet''
Old routine? Hell no.
Brighton. Where no one gives a shit about what you look like , who you are and who you want to be. Yeah , it's great ! Except when you're just back from 6 months in Australia and 2 months in Thailand.
Hey I'm french. What? you don't give a f**** ? My forced french accent used to be s.e.x.y in Australia. What izz ze problem.
Hey look at me I'm pale skinned. What? So are you? I used to be the center of attention in Thai villages. Here , the only time a guy looked at me on the street was a drug addict who had his eyes closed
'' hey sis, you have a light?''
A humbling experience. So was my first day back at work at Kipps Hostel .
Yes I did follow everyone around with a pen and a paper. I could not even use the till.
Didn't you used to run this place before? Shut up.
No old routine there either.
Me , my pen and my paper were so nervous that I thought I was going to throw up the 265 instant coffees I had that morning. The rules were different. As in , not the same. As in '' if you think you're coming back to your comfort zone you're kidding yourself, love ''
The place looks so neat and EVERYONE seems to know what they're doing. Everyone but me. I've worked there the longest, and yet was on my first day.
" Shall I show you how to use the new Screen'' Oh God.... There are more New technologies here than in a supermarket in China. Did I tell him that I still can't use my fake Ipad properly?
Cigarette ? Sure ( I looked at the note on my hand. it said : Remember you stopped smoking.)
Shit
Another coffee? Hell yeah.
And then of course after a while of sweating , remote controlling and running around for no reason I realized. Different decoration , different staff , different rules but hey.... same atmosphere....
Kipps is another word for family. All you need to do is show up. The staff welcomes you , makes you so comfortable that you never want to leave again. Oh and if you ever consider leaving, their yum lasagna or pancakes will make you re consider. The next thing you know you have Canadian ,french, Swedish Romanian sisters, English Italian brothers, German cousins... Yes ,Kipps is the reason why you 'd chase a South African dude around Bangkok and become his official stalker. Because we're family, mate.
For the first time I could grasp the concept of Kipps family from the outside, like a guest would. Good job guys. And I give a 100% rating to everyone who made me feel like I was still a sister ( the first one who says mum will be forced to hoover for me for the next 15 days)
Everything changes but I've got good news for you. Some bonds remain...
My first check ins? Jet lagged Aussies fresh from the plane, Mate.
G'day!!!!!!! Of course I talked to them like... family. Because they were, also. That's my job and I absolutely still love it.
Everything changes but some bonds remain...
Me and my runners were on time this morning on the beach for my first day back at BMF bootcamp.
'' Who's in for a fitness test?''
Why not.
'' you've been traveling too long'' said my fitness instructor as I was agonizing. An hour later I could barely walk and had to reconsider my green bib from 8 month ago (the highest level) and swapped it for a blue bib ( the beginners level)
Shit. I've got to do it all again. Everything does f*** change.
Everything changes but some bonds remain....
'' you're coming to the Water ? '' says my crazy friend Kathy ( find yourself a cool nickname and I will change your name if you want ) as she was running towards the water with her clothes and runners on.
'' Water? As in... swim in the water in September at 7am in.... ENGLAND ?'' You're talking to an ex Aussie, mate. Are you mad??? No way. I'm going home.
10 seconds later I was in my underwear in the English Channel. Minus 10 Aussie degrees but how much fun.
'' We can go for a cup of tea now'' she says proudly as she was getting out of the water with her clothes and runners still on. Only the Brits ...
Yes, everything changes.And there is no such thing as going back to an old routine.
We can either ignore the change and hang on to a past that is no longer real, thus ignore all new opportunities people / life can offer you in the present.
Or you can take the risk and embrace it.
What have we got to loose?
I already knew it would not be an old routine because :
1/ It's Brighton
2/ Everything changes
3/ it's Brighton
And how can it be an old routine with British humor in it ? Especially when your first conversation with an English man in England after 8 months sounds something like that :
ME '' Thanks for picking me up''
HIM '' I haven't even tried to pick you up . We're not even home yet''
Old routine? Hell no.
Brighton. Where no one gives a shit about what you look like , who you are and who you want to be. Yeah , it's great ! Except when you're just back from 6 months in Australia and 2 months in Thailand.
Hey I'm french. What? you don't give a f**** ? My forced french accent used to be s.e.x.y in Australia. What izz ze problem.
Hey look at me I'm pale skinned. What? So are you? I used to be the center of attention in Thai villages. Here , the only time a guy looked at me on the street was a drug addict who had his eyes closed
'' hey sis, you have a light?''
A humbling experience. So was my first day back at work at Kipps Hostel .
Yes I did follow everyone around with a pen and a paper. I could not even use the till.
Didn't you used to run this place before? Shut up.
No old routine there either.
Me , my pen and my paper were so nervous that I thought I was going to throw up the 265 instant coffees I had that morning. The rules were different. As in , not the same. As in '' if you think you're coming back to your comfort zone you're kidding yourself, love ''
The place looks so neat and EVERYONE seems to know what they're doing. Everyone but me. I've worked there the longest, and yet was on my first day.
" Shall I show you how to use the new Screen'' Oh God.... There are more New technologies here than in a supermarket in China. Did I tell him that I still can't use my fake Ipad properly?
Cigarette ? Sure ( I looked at the note on my hand. it said : Remember you stopped smoking.)
Shit
Another coffee? Hell yeah.
And then of course after a while of sweating , remote controlling and running around for no reason I realized. Different decoration , different staff , different rules but hey.... same atmosphere....
Kipps is another word for family. All you need to do is show up. The staff welcomes you , makes you so comfortable that you never want to leave again. Oh and if you ever consider leaving, their yum lasagna or pancakes will make you re consider. The next thing you know you have Canadian ,french, Swedish Romanian sisters, English Italian brothers, German cousins... Yes ,Kipps is the reason why you 'd chase a South African dude around Bangkok and become his official stalker. Because we're family, mate.
For the first time I could grasp the concept of Kipps family from the outside, like a guest would. Good job guys. And I give a 100% rating to everyone who made me feel like I was still a sister ( the first one who says mum will be forced to hoover for me for the next 15 days)
Everything changes but I've got good news for you. Some bonds remain...
My first check ins? Jet lagged Aussies fresh from the plane, Mate.
G'day!!!!!!! Of course I talked to them like... family. Because they were, also. That's my job and I absolutely still love it.
Everything changes but some bonds remain...
Me and my runners were on time this morning on the beach for my first day back at BMF bootcamp.
'' Who's in for a fitness test?''
Why not.
'' you've been traveling too long'' said my fitness instructor as I was agonizing. An hour later I could barely walk and had to reconsider my green bib from 8 month ago (the highest level) and swapped it for a blue bib ( the beginners level)
Shit. I've got to do it all again. Everything does f*** change.
Everything changes but some bonds remain....
'' you're coming to the Water ? '' says my crazy friend Kathy ( find yourself a cool nickname and I will change your name if you want ) as she was running towards the water with her clothes and runners on.
'' Water? As in... swim in the water in September at 7am in.... ENGLAND ?'' You're talking to an ex Aussie, mate. Are you mad??? No way. I'm going home.
10 seconds later I was in my underwear in the English Channel. Minus 10 Aussie degrees but how much fun.
'' We can go for a cup of tea now'' she says proudly as she was getting out of the water with her clothes and runners still on. Only the Brits ...
Yes, everything changes.And there is no such thing as going back to an old routine.
We can either ignore the change and hang on to a past that is no longer real, thus ignore all new opportunities people / life can offer you in the present.
Or you can take the risk and embrace it.
What have we got to loose?
Game over. Play again?
Ah travelling is a magic thing … You suddenly realise that life is full of experiences with a beginning and an end , that you have to make the most of it and love people for who they are. What have you got to lose? It’s like a game. You know the kind of video games where you have unlimited amount of lives. Yeah that one. So you just go for it.
That's how you end up having a beer in an Irish pub in Bangkok with a Russian chick reading a copy of The Sun printed in Spain out loud ( including page 3) . Yep I did attempt to hide my '' made in France'' Tattoo there, thinking there might be an actual Irish or 2 around drunk enough to call me names like Thierry Henry. But no. Only us and some Brits.And the Thai waitresses trying to put on the fakest Irish accent I've ever heard.
Ah travelling is a magic thing. Whatever you want to do? You just go for it. What have you got to lose? And suddenly, even the question ‘’ How can I get enough money to be able to eat properly?’’ becomes fun. Because it’s like a game.
You'd sell the ipad you bought a month ago when you first got to Thailand and thought you were an Aussie millionaire wouldn’t you? Yeah, that's what I thought too.
So I put up ads in the building where I live and I get a phone call 10 minutes later.
'' Annabelle? you put add for ipad downstairs''
'' Yesssss I've got it here, it's brand new'' I say, smiling at Sue my Russian friend. We had plans on what we could do with the money already. Like have a dinner that did not include rice, have a coffee that does not include instant ( aka fly to Australia) and go to Chiang Mai or something.
'' You can't put ads in this building. We removed it.' the voice said.
LOOOSER . Game over. Play again?
Alright . So me, my Russian and my ipad we went to the market. I'd sell it there since I bought it there. That and my cleavage ( sorry French accent not working here, they don't speak English. Only have one other weapon) would give us enough money for all the coffees and rice free meals.
'' Sorry . Made in China''
'' Yep. So is everything here. How much ?''
'' No we don't buy. Rubbish.''
Yep. They sell it but there is NO way they'd buy it. Don't be silly. It's for freaking tourists. HAHA.
As if it was not bad enough, a guy with a perfect English showed up laughing and said :
'' Don't know where you bought it but you got ripped off''
LOOOOOOSER . Game over. Play again ?
Yes I will rip somebody more stupid than me off one day. You don't know anyone who needs a fake ipad , do you?
And no, the cleavage did not help. But the tattoo made them laugh. It does make people laugh. Usually. Yeah , that ‘s what to do when you’re travelling. Tattoo? ..How fun would it be to have one. So you get it done.Just like that. . Part of the game. And it looks cool my ‘’ Made in France ‘’ tattoo.
'' I've been following the conversation you're having with your friend and I don't think you need this tattoo with the thick accent you have'' says that random guy, in the tube at rush hour, in French.
What are YOU ? Made in Fucking Paris?
No I did not say it. Way too arrogant. I just thought it. Otherwise that would have made ME from fucking Paris.
Another French guy said to his girlfriend in English looking at me '' I should have one of them too''
I don't know exactly what he meant since she violently kicked him after that.
They obviously thought that I did not speak a word of English since I was made in France. Oui Oui.
'' You seriously are going to ENGLAND with this Tattoo?'' said another random French guy I met tonight at the airport. '' Now THAT is brave''
LOOOOOSER. Game over…. Play again?
Ah travelling is a magic thing. You care for everyone and anyone. Because we’re all brothers, mate.
That's how you end up in Starbucks sipping an ice green tea jelly made in Thailand to access the free wifi ( sorry Ronald YOUR free wi fi stinks too much for a poor vegetarian like me ) to check your Facebook for the 23rd time because you don't know where the hell the friend you were supposed to meet 3 days ago has disappeared.
A phone? Yes I'd have an iphone made in China if only I could sell my bloody ipad. Thank you.
A friend from Brighton. South Africa actually. But in the end, we're all from Brighton aren't we? I will call him Dwight here.
So I go and meet him at the airport. And guess who waits for 2 hours at the wrong exit holding a sign that read '' Lady boy from Brighton'' besides an actual lady boy? ME. And guess who never found him?
LOOOOOOOSER. ( with nothing to lose)
2 days later I get seriously worried. So I go and check if he actually arrived in Thailand and decides to go to his hostel. I went through the check in book with the lady boy from reception. And I was relieved to find his name.
'' Only stayed one night. Gone now'' So he was still alive somewhere in this world. Great !!!!
So Why was this woman/man (they?) staring at me with a compassionate look that meant '' BASTARD , he left without you didn't he.'' No no he's just a friend, we live together in a hostel in....
It was too late. I was the crazy ex girlfriend / stalker for everyone there. Smile. And leave. NOW.
LOOOOOS….. Yeah I’ve got it thanks.
Ah travelling. You just take any opportunity to have fun. What have you got to lose?
Flying is the best part. On what other occasion can you feel good about doing freaking nothing except eating / sleeping / watching crap movies for 16 hours? And pop in to India on your way back to England from Thailand? The best part was chatting about the weather in the UK with an English man drinking a Tiger beer while watching the cheesiest Bollywood movie ever. Or when the pilot told the passengers to sit down due to turbulences about 45 times and the Indians still could not care less.
What ? How was India? Mate. Amazing. I stayed for 3 whole hours. At the airport. Did not get to change my location on Facebook (LOOSER) but can say to people that I’ve been to India now.
Oh and do you know when you are a REAL passionate writer btw? It's when you ask Air India staff if you can have 5 more minutes to finish your blog article before boarding the plane. Of course you can't . Was just asking though.....
Travelling? You just go for it. You’ve got nothing to lose.
And the next thing you know you’re at Heathrow airport drinking a coffee in 13 english degrees ( ie -25 Thai degrees or 2 Aussie ones) , you’re back. Suddenly you feel like you have EVERYTHING to lose again………
H.O.M.E
full of people / places / jobs you LOVE and you don't want to lose....
The game? What game ? . Only one life left. MINE .
Love people for who they are? Make the most out of each experience and let it go? Don’t be silly. Who are you kidding. It’s the real stuff mate. I can’t fuck it up mate, I just can’t.
Me scared? Oh no , Not that AGAIN……
When did it become so damn serious anyway ?
What? Since Me/ myself/ I made it?
So what, you ‘re telling me it’s my choice what I want to make it ? That the journey is not over yet???
LIFE is a journey mate. And you only stop travelling through it when you stop being YOU.
It’s just the end of the beginning of a new experience. With loads of fun. With loads of people to love for who they are. Nothing to lose, everything to gain. If only you could dare to….
So… Play again?
HELL. YEAH.
That's how you end up having a beer in an Irish pub in Bangkok with a Russian chick reading a copy of The Sun printed in Spain out loud ( including page 3) . Yep I did attempt to hide my '' made in France'' Tattoo there, thinking there might be an actual Irish or 2 around drunk enough to call me names like Thierry Henry. But no. Only us and some Brits.And the Thai waitresses trying to put on the fakest Irish accent I've ever heard.
Ah travelling is a magic thing. Whatever you want to do? You just go for it. What have you got to lose? And suddenly, even the question ‘’ How can I get enough money to be able to eat properly?’’ becomes fun. Because it’s like a game.
You'd sell the ipad you bought a month ago when you first got to Thailand and thought you were an Aussie millionaire wouldn’t you? Yeah, that's what I thought too.
So I put up ads in the building where I live and I get a phone call 10 minutes later.
'' Annabelle? you put add for ipad downstairs''
'' Yesssss I've got it here, it's brand new'' I say, smiling at Sue my Russian friend. We had plans on what we could do with the money already. Like have a dinner that did not include rice, have a coffee that does not include instant ( aka fly to Australia) and go to Chiang Mai or something.
'' You can't put ads in this building. We removed it.' the voice said.
LOOOSER . Game over. Play again?
Alright . So me, my Russian and my ipad we went to the market. I'd sell it there since I bought it there. That and my cleavage ( sorry French accent not working here, they don't speak English. Only have one other weapon) would give us enough money for all the coffees and rice free meals.
'' Sorry . Made in China''
'' Yep. So is everything here. How much ?''
'' No we don't buy. Rubbish.''
Yep. They sell it but there is NO way they'd buy it. Don't be silly. It's for freaking tourists. HAHA.
As if it was not bad enough, a guy with a perfect English showed up laughing and said :
'' Don't know where you bought it but you got ripped off''
LOOOOOOSER . Game over. Play again ?
Yes I will rip somebody more stupid than me off one day. You don't know anyone who needs a fake ipad , do you?
And no, the cleavage did not help. But the tattoo made them laugh. It does make people laugh. Usually. Yeah , that ‘s what to do when you’re travelling. Tattoo? ..How fun would it be to have one. So you get it done.Just like that. . Part of the game. And it looks cool my ‘’ Made in France ‘’ tattoo.
'' I've been following the conversation you're having with your friend and I don't think you need this tattoo with the thick accent you have'' says that random guy, in the tube at rush hour, in French.
What are YOU ? Made in Fucking Paris?
No I did not say it. Way too arrogant. I just thought it. Otherwise that would have made ME from fucking Paris.
Another French guy said to his girlfriend in English looking at me '' I should have one of them too''
I don't know exactly what he meant since she violently kicked him after that.
They obviously thought that I did not speak a word of English since I was made in France. Oui Oui.
'' You seriously are going to ENGLAND with this Tattoo?'' said another random French guy I met tonight at the airport. '' Now THAT is brave''
LOOOOOSER. Game over…. Play again?
Ah travelling is a magic thing. You care for everyone and anyone. Because we’re all brothers, mate.
That's how you end up in Starbucks sipping an ice green tea jelly made in Thailand to access the free wifi ( sorry Ronald YOUR free wi fi stinks too much for a poor vegetarian like me ) to check your Facebook for the 23rd time because you don't know where the hell the friend you were supposed to meet 3 days ago has disappeared.
A phone? Yes I'd have an iphone made in China if only I could sell my bloody ipad. Thank you.
A friend from Brighton. South Africa actually. But in the end, we're all from Brighton aren't we? I will call him Dwight here.
So I go and meet him at the airport. And guess who waits for 2 hours at the wrong exit holding a sign that read '' Lady boy from Brighton'' besides an actual lady boy? ME. And guess who never found him?
LOOOOOOOSER. ( with nothing to lose)
2 days later I get seriously worried. So I go and check if he actually arrived in Thailand and decides to go to his hostel. I went through the check in book with the lady boy from reception. And I was relieved to find his name.
'' Only stayed one night. Gone now'' So he was still alive somewhere in this world. Great !!!!
So Why was this woman/man (they?) staring at me with a compassionate look that meant '' BASTARD , he left without you didn't he.'' No no he's just a friend, we live together in a hostel in....
It was too late. I was the crazy ex girlfriend / stalker for everyone there. Smile. And leave. NOW.
LOOOOOS….. Yeah I’ve got it thanks.
Ah travelling. You just take any opportunity to have fun. What have you got to lose?
Flying is the best part. On what other occasion can you feel good about doing freaking nothing except eating / sleeping / watching crap movies for 16 hours? And pop in to India on your way back to England from Thailand? The best part was chatting about the weather in the UK with an English man drinking a Tiger beer while watching the cheesiest Bollywood movie ever. Or when the pilot told the passengers to sit down due to turbulences about 45 times and the Indians still could not care less.
What ? How was India? Mate. Amazing. I stayed for 3 whole hours. At the airport. Did not get to change my location on Facebook (LOOSER) but can say to people that I’ve been to India now.
Oh and do you know when you are a REAL passionate writer btw? It's when you ask Air India staff if you can have 5 more minutes to finish your blog article before boarding the plane. Of course you can't . Was just asking though.....
Travelling? You just go for it. You’ve got nothing to lose.
And the next thing you know you’re at Heathrow airport drinking a coffee in 13 english degrees ( ie -25 Thai degrees or 2 Aussie ones) , you’re back. Suddenly you feel like you have EVERYTHING to lose again………
H.O.M.E
full of people / places / jobs you LOVE and you don't want to lose....
The game? What game ? . Only one life left. MINE .
Love people for who they are? Make the most out of each experience and let it go? Don’t be silly. Who are you kidding. It’s the real stuff mate. I can’t fuck it up mate, I just can’t.
Me scared? Oh no , Not that AGAIN……
When did it become so damn serious anyway ?
What? Since Me/ myself/ I made it?
So what, you ‘re telling me it’s my choice what I want to make it ? That the journey is not over yet???
LIFE is a journey mate. And you only stop travelling through it when you stop being YOU.
It’s just the end of the beginning of a new experience. With loads of fun. With loads of people to love for who they are. Nothing to lose, everything to gain. If only you could dare to….
So… Play again?
HELL. YEAH.
Monday, 22 August 2011
Material girl
So I get a tattoo with my last Australian dollars , book a flight to London via India with the Pounds I don't have yet, get lost in a capital city looking for a friend I' ve known for 12 days ( 10 of them were silent) and get drunk in trendy club trying to learn Brazilian from a random guy drinking Heineken.
And that's exactly when my local french newspapers decides to publish an article celebrating...MY life choices.
Will I ever stop laughing....
How did I end up speaking Bazilian in a club in Bangkok ? Oh yeah. That one.
I woke up in the monastery on my cement bad for the 22nd day in a row and that's when it came. Enlightenment.
WTF am I doing here. No I am NOT the spiritual creature I thought I was. I can't sit still for more than 8 minutes unless it involves writing or downloading pictures on Facebook. I know now that food is only fuel for the body but if I have rice and spicy veggies for breakfast one more time I go on strike.
I had to apologize to Buddha and to myself. Time to GET REAL.
2 choices. Live IN or OUT of society. Stay and start a nun degree . Or go back out there and start accepting
1/ Capitalism
2/ globalization
3/ wordly possessions
4/ people with money
5/ Money.
aka live in the 21st Century.
Now that's a mission.
I decide to take the night train to Bangkok to tell my 60 year old POM about the new material girl me.
I take the last seat. 366 Baht. ( a couple of pounds/ Euro/AUS dollars) A delight for your wallet. A bad omen for your comfort.
I can officially call myself a hardcore traveler after a 10h overnight trip sitting by a bag full or Durians ( they 're so smelly that they are even banned from Bangkok tube: '' No drink , no camera no Durians'' talking to coakcroches . The only ones who could understand english before the first Westerners got in half way through.
It's easy to get in or out, the exit doors stay open for the whole. trip. Enough to make any British health and safety inspector want to jump out and try to commit suicide . He could not really , the train is too slow ...
Hey , hoooooow uuuuu doin' ?
fuck. The only italian guy in the whole train had to be for me.
I 've been working on the '' I haven't had a proper shower or sleep for 3 weeks. How do you think I'm doing'' look so it
worked. And a french dude just called me '' Madame'' . Like i'm 30+ or something. What? I am? Shut up.
5.30am arrival in Bangkok. That Thai lady gives me a big hug that probably meant '' we got here safe , what a miracle'' .
Shower or breakfast. What would a material girl with a tight budget choose? Facebook that is!!
Of course Roy wants to meet me in Khao San road area ( aka tourist central ). Of course I ended up waiting for him all day standing next to Ronald Freaking Mac Donald after I sent him an '' Come and get me or I will die here'' email, watching drunken Aussie tourists walk past.
Of course we never met that day. I was on a different mission. I had to make my peace with Society. Accept the world as it is. At last....
So I had a chat with Ronald listening to Lady Gaga for a bit. Then I bargained my diner.
I walked passed a guy who was playing '' Imagine'' from Elton John. I stood there watching the crowd of tourists . ''Imagine there's no country...'' I almost cried mate. ( I did actually) .
And peace was made.
'' I'm not a nun so I decided to be a material girl'' I say to Roy when I finally meet up with him the next day.
'' Don't you have to be a virgin for that?'' He replied
'' Seriously I'm too up with the fairies. I was down to my last 40 dollars and did not even realize. Scared the shit out of me. I must be more materialistic''
You? Dream on.....
Try me. I drag him to the nearest tattoo parlor.
I've always wanted this tattoo but always thought it was useless. Now or never.
God did it hurt. The part when I ask the tattoo guy how many tattoos does HE have and he replied '' Me
? I don't have any, don't be silly'' was the most painful.
Where did I have it done. Mate come and see for yourself!
What does it say?
MADE IN FRANCE. It had to :)
Although Roy ad the tattoo guy had me on for 10 minutes telling me that they changed it to MADE IN ENGLAND and how much better it looked before they finally gave me a mirror.
How's that for the new material girl.
The same night I meet my Russian friend for her birthday. '' Are we going clubbing?'' I was going to say that I'm not into that you know that thing. But I made a promise to Buddha and Ronald . Material girl.
She looks at my clothes with a '' darling you can't decently wear that'' sort of look. She throws a sexy dress, a diamond bracelet and a Louis Vuitton bag. Now it's better.
People always tell me I'm brave to travel the world by myself. and that night for the first time, I felt that I really was.
Going clubbing with the hottest Russian girl who's celebrating her 25th birthday when you can't remember when was the last time you went to bed after midnight was, IS brave.
'' Hi I'm Kevin from USA'' that random drunk guy tells me in a thick Thai accent.
'' Greeeeeeat'' . I show him my tattoo. Because that's what you do in a club right? And run out of conversation.
''He liked you!'' My friend tells me.
So ..... you're saying that based on..... '' my name is Kevin I'm from the USA'' . Of course.
And he was fucking Thai anyway. How can that be the base of a good and honest one night stand ( is that how you call it?) What? Who cares about honest?
Where have I been the past 10 years. Give me one more beer.
'' You beer?'' says that Brazilian dude next to me. Wow. Drunk guys in clubs can read minds now. I'm impressed.
So I learnt Brazilian for a bit. and made everyone laugh on the dance floor. No I am REALLY trying to dance here.
'' your number?'' he tells me at 3 am. My friend was like ''go for it'' .
'' I do not own a phone'' was my answer. And I absolutely loved saying it.
Sorry Buddha, if I'm not completely a spiritual girl. And sorry Ronald I 'm not completely a material girl .
I think I will just have to be me then ......
And that's exactly when my local french newspapers decides to publish an article celebrating...MY life choices.
Will I ever stop laughing....
How did I end up speaking Bazilian in a club in Bangkok ? Oh yeah. That one.
I woke up in the monastery on my cement bad for the 22nd day in a row and that's when it came. Enlightenment.
WTF am I doing here. No I am NOT the spiritual creature I thought I was. I can't sit still for more than 8 minutes unless it involves writing or downloading pictures on Facebook. I know now that food is only fuel for the body but if I have rice and spicy veggies for breakfast one more time I go on strike.
I had to apologize to Buddha and to myself. Time to GET REAL.
2 choices. Live IN or OUT of society. Stay and start a nun degree . Or go back out there and start accepting
1/ Capitalism
2/ globalization
3/ wordly possessions
4/ people with money
5/ Money.
aka live in the 21st Century.
Now that's a mission.
I decide to take the night train to Bangkok to tell my 60 year old POM about the new material girl me.
I take the last seat. 366 Baht. ( a couple of pounds/ Euro/AUS dollars) A delight for your wallet. A bad omen for your comfort.
I can officially call myself a hardcore traveler after a 10h overnight trip sitting by a bag full or Durians ( they 're so smelly that they are even banned from Bangkok tube: '' No drink , no camera no Durians'' talking to coakcroches . The only ones who could understand english before the first Westerners got in half way through.
It's easy to get in or out, the exit doors stay open for the whole. trip. Enough to make any British health and safety inspector want to jump out and try to commit suicide . He could not really , the train is too slow ...
Hey , hoooooow uuuuu doin' ?
fuck. The only italian guy in the whole train had to be for me.
I 've been working on the '' I haven't had a proper shower or sleep for 3 weeks. How do you think I'm doing'' look so it
worked. And a french dude just called me '' Madame'' . Like i'm 30+ or something. What? I am? Shut up.
5.30am arrival in Bangkok. That Thai lady gives me a big hug that probably meant '' we got here safe , what a miracle'' .
Shower or breakfast. What would a material girl with a tight budget choose? Facebook that is!!
Of course Roy wants to meet me in Khao San road area ( aka tourist central ). Of course I ended up waiting for him all day standing next to Ronald Freaking Mac Donald after I sent him an '' Come and get me or I will die here'' email, watching drunken Aussie tourists walk past.
Of course we never met that day. I was on a different mission. I had to make my peace with Society. Accept the world as it is. At last....
So I had a chat with Ronald listening to Lady Gaga for a bit. Then I bargained my diner.
I walked passed a guy who was playing '' Imagine'' from Elton John. I stood there watching the crowd of tourists . ''Imagine there's no country...'' I almost cried mate. ( I did actually) .
And peace was made.
'' I'm not a nun so I decided to be a material girl'' I say to Roy when I finally meet up with him the next day.
'' Don't you have to be a virgin for that?'' He replied
'' Seriously I'm too up with the fairies. I was down to my last 40 dollars and did not even realize. Scared the shit out of me. I must be more materialistic''
You? Dream on.....
Try me. I drag him to the nearest tattoo parlor.
I've always wanted this tattoo but always thought it was useless. Now or never.
God did it hurt. The part when I ask the tattoo guy how many tattoos does HE have and he replied '' Me
? I don't have any, don't be silly'' was the most painful.
Where did I have it done. Mate come and see for yourself!
What does it say?
MADE IN FRANCE. It had to :)
Although Roy ad the tattoo guy had me on for 10 minutes telling me that they changed it to MADE IN ENGLAND and how much better it looked before they finally gave me a mirror.
How's that for the new material girl.
The same night I meet my Russian friend for her birthday. '' Are we going clubbing?'' I was going to say that I'm not into that you know that thing. But I made a promise to Buddha and Ronald . Material girl.
She looks at my clothes with a '' darling you can't decently wear that'' sort of look. She throws a sexy dress, a diamond bracelet and a Louis Vuitton bag. Now it's better.
People always tell me I'm brave to travel the world by myself. and that night for the first time, I felt that I really was.
Going clubbing with the hottest Russian girl who's celebrating her 25th birthday when you can't remember when was the last time you went to bed after midnight was, IS brave.
'' Hi I'm Kevin from USA'' that random drunk guy tells me in a thick Thai accent.
'' Greeeeeeat'' . I show him my tattoo. Because that's what you do in a club right? And run out of conversation.
''He liked you!'' My friend tells me.
So ..... you're saying that based on..... '' my name is Kevin I'm from the USA'' . Of course.
And he was fucking Thai anyway. How can that be the base of a good and honest one night stand ( is that how you call it?) What? Who cares about honest?
Where have I been the past 10 years. Give me one more beer.
'' You beer?'' says that Brazilian dude next to me. Wow. Drunk guys in clubs can read minds now. I'm impressed.
So I learnt Brazilian for a bit. and made everyone laugh on the dance floor. No I am REALLY trying to dance here.
'' your number?'' he tells me at 3 am. My friend was like ''go for it'' .
'' I do not own a phone'' was my answer. And I absolutely loved saying it.
Sorry Buddha, if I'm not completely a spiritual girl. And sorry Ronald I 'm not completely a material girl .
I think I will just have to be me then ......
Friday, 19 August 2011
Just saving the world, Mate ....
Ah sleeping in a hotel room after 18 days of concrete mattress and scorpion hunts. It's the idea of heaven. Except when you break your back jumping on the bed because the actual mattress is as hard as a rock and the only TV channel available in English is fox news.
Imagine my face after almost 3 weeks of non information.
Meditate sister, meditate. Or eat an insane amount of coconut coated peanuts. Like I did. Because I can eat whatever I want ( school girl out of school attitude )
Mmmm showers..... me can't use showers. Of well, I used the bucket like good old times. God, it's time I get a life..... right ?
The next morning I ask reception for the bus station in English with a Thai accent. I feel less arrogant when I use the Thai accent.
'' I drive you'' said a random old guy who was there. Pouring down with rain so I said yes. A car would be very handy.
Of course it was not a car. He throws a helmet and a rain coat at me. '' you wait here''
A freaking scooter. What scares me more than not knowing where 'i'm going ? going there on a scooter.
I saw my life before my eyes during the 10 minutes crazy drive through town. I saw England , France , Australia and said I love you to everyone. Did you hear it ?
''50 baht please'' and I got ripped off. Nice.
I had the spiciest noddle in my whole life at 7am and got on a random bus doubting it would get me to my destination for 3hours59 minutes. It did.
Back to Buddha central , I had this strange feeling that I would not live here for ever.I still wanted to see myself saving the world with English monks forever. Drinking coffee. It seemed at the time to be the best idea ever.
'' I'm in Bangkok, when are you coming'' Roy my favorite pom abroad with no deadlock ( he told me to correct that. It probably is just dirty hair . haha. )
Emails me 2 days after leaving the retreat unexpectedly on day 10 ( I am still soooo mad at you. )
'' I live in the monastery now, shaving my head soon''
I won't tell you what he replied. There might be kids or nuns reading. British humour. God do I miss it haha.
I'm staying on my concrete mattress. Stuborn ? Me ? No, it just takes me a while longer to get it. That's all. Remember I'm french.
Just when I thought that saving the world from a Thai monastery was actually a job I decided to check my balance.
No. Not a job. My Facebook status says writer but no, not a job either. Not yet anyway. Yes, I know, one day I'll be j.k Rowling. Now I'm just Rowling.
So I had 2 choices. Shave my head and eat rice until the end of times. Or get out there and find a job for a while so I can go and save the world again later ( is that how it works nowadays?)
Let me think. All the jobs I love are volunteer jobs. Teaching English to Thai kids, work in a bed in breakfast in mount Burrell Australia, write blogs and articles for websites ......
If I go back to reality it might as well be worth it. What ? Volunteer jobs are not jobs ? Damn.
So there's only one job I love then. There's only one I ever loved.
There's that email in my inbox that's been sitting there for quite a while.... I should reply to this job offer... There are people I love there and around there ...... a lot of them.....
So I simply replied to the email.
Departure Bangkok airport 29th august 4.30pm. Arrival London Heathrow 30th August 7.30am .
Then ? It just hits you. That there is nothing to save or nothing to hide from. Because loving YOUR world is sometimes enough to change it.
Because the world where I come from is worth loving too ...
My name is Annabelle I'm french ( still) , I live in brighton, UK.
Imagine my face after almost 3 weeks of non information.
Meditate sister, meditate. Or eat an insane amount of coconut coated peanuts. Like I did. Because I can eat whatever I want ( school girl out of school attitude )
Mmmm showers..... me can't use showers. Of well, I used the bucket like good old times. God, it's time I get a life..... right ?
The next morning I ask reception for the bus station in English with a Thai accent. I feel less arrogant when I use the Thai accent.
'' I drive you'' said a random old guy who was there. Pouring down with rain so I said yes. A car would be very handy.
Of course it was not a car. He throws a helmet and a rain coat at me. '' you wait here''
A freaking scooter. What scares me more than not knowing where 'i'm going ? going there on a scooter.
I saw my life before my eyes during the 10 minutes crazy drive through town. I saw England , France , Australia and said I love you to everyone. Did you hear it ?
''50 baht please'' and I got ripped off. Nice.
I had the spiciest noddle in my whole life at 7am and got on a random bus doubting it would get me to my destination for 3hours59 minutes. It did.
Back to Buddha central , I had this strange feeling that I would not live here for ever.I still wanted to see myself saving the world with English monks forever. Drinking coffee. It seemed at the time to be the best idea ever.
'' I'm in Bangkok, when are you coming'' Roy my favorite pom abroad with no deadlock ( he told me to correct that. It probably is just dirty hair . haha. )
Emails me 2 days after leaving the retreat unexpectedly on day 10 ( I am still soooo mad at you. )
'' I live in the monastery now, shaving my head soon''
I won't tell you what he replied. There might be kids or nuns reading. British humour. God do I miss it haha.
I'm staying on my concrete mattress. Stuborn ? Me ? No, it just takes me a while longer to get it. That's all. Remember I'm french.
Just when I thought that saving the world from a Thai monastery was actually a job I decided to check my balance.
No. Not a job. My Facebook status says writer but no, not a job either. Not yet anyway. Yes, I know, one day I'll be j.k Rowling. Now I'm just Rowling.
So I had 2 choices. Shave my head and eat rice until the end of times. Or get out there and find a job for a while so I can go and save the world again later ( is that how it works nowadays?)
Let me think. All the jobs I love are volunteer jobs. Teaching English to Thai kids, work in a bed in breakfast in mount Burrell Australia, write blogs and articles for websites ......
If I go back to reality it might as well be worth it. What ? Volunteer jobs are not jobs ? Damn.
So there's only one job I love then. There's only one I ever loved.
There's that email in my inbox that's been sitting there for quite a while.... I should reply to this job offer... There are people I love there and around there ...... a lot of them.....
So I simply replied to the email.
Departure Bangkok airport 29th august 4.30pm. Arrival London Heathrow 30th August 7.30am .
Then ? It just hits you. That there is nothing to save or nothing to hide from. Because loving YOUR world is sometimes enough to change it.
Because the world where I come from is worth loving too ...
My name is Annabelle I'm french ( still) , I live in brighton, UK.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)