Random Acts of Being

Hello blog followers! All in all, it's been a rather varied and exciting last two weeks here in London town. I did indeed attend the Clapham Food Festival, whereby I befriended three random people at the gate and spent hours walking around with them, before accidentally losing them amongst the crowd and accepting the fact that our friendship was to be short-lived. We had only exchanged first names, but I will forever hold the memories we shared of scabbing as many free food and alcohol samples as possible.

Excitingly, I have received delivery of my backpack from home which has greatly improved my quality of life. Instead of grinding my teeth waiting for the unreliable and terribly slow red double decker bus to take me from Clapham Common to Clapham Junction each morning, I can now fill my lungs with fresh air and convince myself that an hour of walking each day is equivalent to the more frequent and intense forms of exercise I did back home.

Team bonding at work is also coming along well. So well, in fact, that I have provided each member with the address of my blog which will prevent me elaborating on any points of juicy interest. However, many laughs have been had in and out of the office, mainly revolving around terrible attempts at Australian accents, equally as terrible senses of direction on the way to training days and unfortunate circumstances involving Brazilians.

However, the most notable event has been the Clapham Common flat playing host to a house party over the weekend to celebrate both a birthday and a homecoming. I have to admit, I was a little nervous facing the same people that I disgraced myself in front of at the previous house party, though I needn't have worried. As the night progressed, people went from vodka shot drunk, to throwing shoes on the roof drunk, to jumping on the couches drunk, to singing John Farnham drunk, to how-the-heck-do-I-get-these-drunk-people-out-of-my-flat sober.

Most people got the message once the sun started coming up at 4:30am and made their way for home, while I finally made my way to bed. Sadly however, sleep was disturbed by a random guy making attempts to sleep in my bed not once, not twice but three times and mysterious noises coming from the lounge room. Finally curiosity got the better of me, and at 6:30am I opened the door to four people left barely-standing, with black mascara all over their faces and one person squirming on the ground, candle stick holder in mouth and making strange dinosaur noises. You simply can't make this kind of stuff up. And if you don't believe me, simply ask my parents who had the pleasure of meeting two of the individuals, standing only in their underwear, during our weekly Sunday morning Skype call. Outstandingly enough, the dinosaur-imitator leapt straight into helping clean the flat only two hours later.

Now all that remains of this epic night is only a slightly sticky floor and some serious McDonald's regret. That, and some friendships with some truly lovely people who I hope I'll have the pleasure of spending some more time with in the near future! With events to look forward to on the near horizon, including a visit from the gorgeous Samantha Law in only 12 DAYS, everything is going swell. Sure, there are still bursts of homesickness and very unromantic moments featuring laundromats, but all in all I'm feeling very blessed.

Lots of love, Em xxx