I'm in London still

This weeks food for thought… one year on

It is a bittersweet feeling to know one year ago I had spent my first night at the University of Hertforshire, in a single bed adorned with sheets made out of industrial sandpaper and a mattress that contoured with the shape of my body. With jet lag neatly in tow, I vividly recall its side effects and the urge I felt to slip in to my skins and go for a run at 5am to explore the town site that would become my home for the next 6 months. After acquainting myself with the likes of ASDA and the Galleria, the realisation dawned on me that Hatfield wasn’t exactly the heartbeat of the motherland, nor was it the new ‘London’ as splashed about on a number of billboards.

Looking back those first few days were a combination of utter excitement and sheer terror. For some unapparent reason it hadn’t really dawned on me just how far I had removed myself from the familiar.  I’d been so preoccupied in the weeks leading up to leaving Oz that I hadn’t really considered the scale of condensing my life in to 24 kilograms of luggage and moving half way across the world where I did not know a single sole. I was definitely wading in unfamiliar waters. Facing the very real prospect of spending the next six months of my life without any friends I remember saying to myself as I wandered over to my first international students seminar “have you just made the biggest mistake of your life?” Ironically enough it was here and over the course of the week that followed where I would meet the people I would spend every day with for the next six months. Many of who became very close friends, and still are. What an adventure we shared! My only regret is that we didn't stay longer.

For anyone considering the prospect of exchange, I couldn’t urge you enough. It really was a life-changing experience, from learning a new culture, to making new friends from diverse ethnic and national backgrounds. In the end you gain a better appreciation of other cultures, as well as your own.

So here’s to England - what an escapade!

Bye for now

Cuttsy

Switching off from social networking

This weeks food for thought – could you switch off from Facebook?

We've truly reached a new level of technological time wasting, and it's called Facebook. I often wonder if our fascination with this social networking phenomenon is doing more harm than good. Is Facebook a social utility that helps us to communicate more efficiently with family and friends, or just a big fat time waster? 

Without doubt Facebook has become part of my habitual routine. It seems to be set up to try and draw you in and spend as much time on it as possible. Too often I find myself steering away from uni work and setting aside a break period so I can login and read the latest edition of status updates, wall posts and cringe at unflattering photos I’ve been tagged in. The problem is I become so absorbed that my 15-minute breaks turn in to an hour.

I’d hate to think how much time I have spent on Facebook over the years. I will admit I am a fairly avid user. While I won’t give up social opportunities to use Facebook, I will sometimes pull the iphone out on an evening out and have a quick squizzie. We’re really no different to drug users – its an addiction what ever way you look at it. Too often we are scampering around looking for an internet connection so we can get our next hit.

The reality of my addiction surfaced months ago when a mate of mine told me I spent too much time on there. He quizzed me on the profile pictures and recent status updates of a handbook of people. All of which I answered correctly. But does this make me a better friend? Or just someone that has perused their wall a little too much?

This friend deactivated his account last week. He’s been raving about how much more productive he has become without the thought of Facebook in the back of his mind ever since. While I congratulate his efforts of breaking the habit, I don’t know if I could be out of the loop. It’s this realisation that scares me a little. Why am I so dependent on something that prior to late 2008 I never used? I managed to hold a vast array of full functional friendships, where communication followed fairly freely without a wall, status updates and tagged photos.

But its not all grim, if you too can’t possibly fathom the idea of switching off, I read an interesting article today which provides some handy tips to avoid wasting too much time on ‘the book’. Take note of the following:

1)   Ignore the requests

2)   Stop the constant emails

3)   Avoid games and third party applications

4)   Go offline chat

Or if none of the above works, just quit Facebook all together. I hear Google+ is the new next big thing. Who needs 500 million friends anyway?

Bye for now, 

Cuttsy

R.I.P iPhone

This week’s food for thought – obsessive iPhone love.

In a ‘slightly’ intoxicated state last night my iPhone took a dive into a puddle of water. In a more sober condition this morning, I’ve learnt apple products are not waterproof and the seriousness of the situation is starting to dawn on me. Daunted at the prospect of having to part with it, even the idea of having to return to a normal phone is a frightening indication of just how reliant I am on it. But it got me thinking, I survived the first 19 years of my life without one and so did the rest of civilisation, surely life would go on in without it… wouldn’t it?

A recent study showed that iPhone users would give up their toothbrushes before their devices! What does that mean? Either iPhone users care less about personal hygiene or they really love their iPhone. I have a feeling it’s the latter. Ironically, I was having this discussion with a friend yesterday, whose iPhone has become an extension of his right arm. I quizzed him on the prospect of giving it up and he shot me a look like I’d just asked him for a vital organ. He told me if would be impractical to part ways with it.

He made a valid point. Without running the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, the iPhone has saved me on a number of occasions. I was in Freedom recently and needed to transfer more money on to my credit card. So I just whipped out the iPhone right there at the counter and in a matter of moments it was done and the transaction was processed. It also made travelling in Europe a breeze.

But is it a vital necessity?

While YES it has made everyday life a little easier in some regards, I question whether we really need access to facebook at the touch of a finger swipe? Or the ability to send drunk hey tell messages? Or access to internet banking so we can transfer funds when we need another 10 drinks and a little extra for a kebab and taxi ride home?  And access to maps, have we forgotten about a little thing called a UBD?

Are you in love with your iPhone? Do you think you could sustain a normal life without one? If I’m being honest, I don’t know if I can.

Bye for now.

Cuttsy

Poor

This week’s food for thought… dwindling finances

$30.33 – my current bank balance. I think to myself, surely the NAB has made a mistake. But as I scan through an 8-page account summary documenting my spending, I soon see an arising pattern. The reoccurrence of Liquor Barons Carlisle, Swan Taxi’s and Mc Donalds East Victoria Park provide some indication of why I don’t have a brass razoo in both my wallet and bank account. I’ve reached an all time low, having had more savings when I endured child labour as a budding 15-year junior at Eagle Boys.

With the deposits being largely outweighed by the withdrawals, I ask myself – what do you actually have to show for my $30 and 33 cents? Apart from a delicious hang over that derails my day and text messages detailing my deplorable antics from the previous night, absolutely nothing!

Even worse is that every time I pick up the phone and call my folks, I seem to be using the opening liner “I need a favour”, this is followed by a long awkward silence, coupled with a cringe worthy response of “what would that be?". I can almost hear it in their voices – “oh he needs money again”. Their fed up with this ongoing tirade of I need $400 to go skydiving, or I need money for the weekend so I can go on a wine tour in Margaret River.

Given that I cannot possibly fathom surviving on such a meagre amount, I think this is an indication that I should try and curb my spending and stay clear of your Swan Taxi’s, Mc Donalds East Victoria Park and Liquor Barons Carlise… that or at least try First Choice.

So if you see me lining up for a free sausage sizzle at Curtin, or siphoning fuel in a car park, don’t be alarmed, I’m simply trying to save a few dollars here and there and put my remaining $30.33 to good use.

So this is student living…

Bye for now

Cuttsy

Pricey ole Perth!

This week’s food for thought… is Perth becoming too expensive?

It came as no surprise to me that Perth was recently found to be the 13^th most expensive city in the world to live in. Making it 25 percent dearer than New York.

Our inflated food and drink prices led to a fairly unflattering review by the travel guide bible, Lonely Planet. Critiqued as having an overpriced dining culture and a cashed up bogan night life, the guide stated that where many of Australia’s other state capitals might have a handful of top restaurants charging over $40 for a main, in Perth those prices are fast becoming a norm for any establishment that considers itself above average.

I’d argue this is fairly accurate. While I am all for paying that little bit extra for a swanky dining experience, I’d hardly call the prices at a place like Siennas – which has an indoor childrens playground - reasonable.

What is also becoming increasingly prevalent is the reliance and use of the word 'gourmet'. Café/Restaurant owners seem to be under some delirious notion that by placing this adjective in front of their menu items, it warrants them to charge through the roof. This is a common occurrence amongst the sudden surge in burger cafes that are springing up around the city. I was slogged 48 dollars for two burgers, chips (about eight of them) and two waters when I had lunch with my sister the other day.   

Enjoying a reasonably priced meal in the UK

It is almost ironic that last year when I told people I was moving to the motherland (England), they lectured me on just how expensive it would be. When in actual fact it was the complete opposite. I would often walk the aisles of the supermarket in awe of just how cheap alcohol was. Eighteen pounds for a one-litre bottle of vokda for crying out loud! That equates to roughly $27. I have fond memories of one-pound shots and paying twenty Euros ($26) for four redbull vodkas in Amsterdam.  Needless to say I endured a period of readjustment when I returned to Australia and quickly realised that I couldn’t afford to drink like I had while I was away. One night in particular springs to mind, where I spent $387 dollars in a period of about four hours in Subiaco. My bank statement read very impressively the next day. Note to self: don’t shout shots!

It comes as no great mystery as to why so many Australian’s are flocking in droves overseas; considering it’s cheaper to fly to Bali than within the state. This rising cost is obviously a drawback for Australian tourism. And given the cost of alcohol in this country, our animalistic type behaviour in duty free, where we stock up on as much alcohol as we are permitted, is fairly warranted I’d say.

Instead of throwing my junk mail out I might have to start scouting for the specials to find myself a few savings. That way I can afford myself at least one red bull vodka when I’m next out.

Do you think the Perth is becoming increasingly more expensive? Do you have to invest in an entertainment book so that you too can afford a reasonably priced meal – one that doesn’t involve a children's playground or a value meal?

Bye for now,

Cuttsy

Love thy neighbour?

I’m the first to admit that during my time in Perth I probably haven’t been the most desirable neighbour. I learnt very early on in the piece those residing close to you, do not partake in going out on week nights, nor do they appreciate having a full bucket off spew hurled over their fence and plastered across their entertaining area. As these first months progressed one neighbour even felt the need to send an anonymous letter, documenting how we disturbed the once peaceful neighbourhood. The typed letter went in to significant detail, citing a plethora of different scenarios. While yes, he or she did make some valid points, the majority of it was a blatant malicious attack that really carried no warrant. Fast track two years and I’m residing in the same street as the drug lab where the roof was blown off, due to a make shift drug lab. I ask the question, whose disturbing the ‘peace’ now?

Drug labs and anonymous letters aside, ever since that particular incident - given I was worried we could end up on an episode of Today Tonight, portrayed as the world’s worst neighbours - I managed to build up a fairly good rapport. While I don’t invite them over for a BBQ where we share gardening tips, but a simple exchange of a wave or hello takes place. This was the case until I went to Europe where I left the house in the capable hands of my housemates. One evening, against his better judgement, one of them decided to throw a house party outside that kicked off at 2am. Needless to say they weren’t too impressed with the noise. But you could say the deal breaker was when a few months later he became extremely intoxicated and tried to break in to another one of our ‘delightful’ neighbour’s house. The police were called were diffuse the situation. Upon my return the neighbour informed she had not slept for the 2 weeks following the incident as she was convinced they were being broken in to by a deranged drug addict.  Further strain was also added to the relationship when I insisted in having a number of limbs cut off of their jacaranda tree. In my defence it does create a lot of unnecessary mess.

So with a new neighbour moving in behind me, I am not entirely sure how to approach the situation. Do I go up there and introduce myself, so we aren’t faced with the awkward situation of getting the mail at the same time. Or worse leaving it too long that it would just be strange to say hello given they have lived there for 6 months and you haven’t uttered a single word to each other. Or do I simply just chuck a full ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ bucket of spew over their fence and wait for them to come knocking the next day… it got a reaction last time!

This brings me to the conclusion; love thy neighbour, while good in theory, not so good in practice.

Do you love your neighbour or am I just barking up the wrong tree (one that has a few branches hacked at)?

Bye for now,

Cuttsy

Back in full swing!

This weeks food for thought… debo’s

It turns out there is a God after all! The powers above have finally come to their senses and granted my beloved Debos’s their license to trade after 3am.  It was longer over due. While I don’t live in Kalgoorlie, having to line up to enter the BO pit, aka Corner Bar, on the few occasions I have been here, was certainly wearing thin.

After this little hiatus where they copped a ‘mere’ $10,000 fine, Kalgoorlie folk seem have a renewed appreciation for the place. With their bouncers that aren’t interested in how many drinks you have had, nor do they send you off to on a leisurely walk around Leederville to mung out on a kebab and try your hand at getting in 30 minutes later, with no lines out the front, for the toilets or at the bar, with being the home of the taste bud tantalising ‘Black Panther’ and a dance floor that never fails to disappoint. What more could you ask for when the speakers blare out the one and only power ballad – You’re the voice – courtesy of John Farnham and the air con drips on your face.  I mean really….

And last night was no exception. The atmosphere was thrilling as always and there was certainly magic happening on the dance floor. You could have found me tearing it up, looking as though I was auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance.  The only thing missing was fat Sue (ever so easy on the eye) bounding through at the conclusion of New York and the lights being switched on. I suppose all in due course.

And by that time you’re probably a bit puffed and really have no reason or cause to enter the Corner Bar… next stop for me is a flavoursome kebab at shish kebab central and then brave the taxi line destined for a home, awaiting the hang over the next day will bring. 

So here’s to Debos’ – everything’s as if we never said goodbye!

Bye for now,

Cuttsy