Things I can do overseas...potentially:Act like a chav on the tube and see what happens.
Take trains to wherever the fuck I fancy.
Learn a new language. Preferably German so that I can sound very romantic when I order a bratwurst. Kidding. About the bratwurst.
I can ski. A lot.
I can visit a mate on his own Croatian island.
I could potentially go to Hawaii. I know someone there too.
I could go to Hong Kong and eat lots of noodles, I can go to Tokyo and dress up like how people dress in Tokyo and get away with it without the blink of an Anglo-Saxon eyelid.
I could go to San Francisco and become a hippie bastard.
I could eat extremely interesting food. Not haggis and snails, but I'm game for frogs legs again.
I could go to Bratislava and get hammered in some eastern bloc-dungeon with a whole lot of construction workers.
I could walk across Berlin tracing my steps exactly across where the wall was the whole way.
I can lie naked in the Tiergarten.
I could wear my big red coat again.
I could invest in the Scandanavian techno industry.
Which is solely dominated by Ace Of Base.
Which reminds me. At this techno party I held at my house on Saturday for lack of wanting to leave my apartment – it was the social choice – and I've done a sterling job of staying in pyjamas for the last few days - all the old favourites were pulled out from my [extensive] collection of 90s synthesised glory tunes. Were all jumping around the lounge to the likes of Haddaway, Dr Alban, that Blue-dabadee song. By Eiffel 65. Yes that one. I was loving it on Saturday night.
I could hang with my crazy aunt in Canada. That would be a hoot.
I could wear my red coat and buy Brit pop music in HMV.
I could fuck off to the Alsace Lorraine for breakfast and be back by lunchtime.
I can and will – mark my words – strip naked and swim in the Serpentine.
I can meet remarkable men who could whisper the following in my ear:
“Gud fraulein”
Or “You're a peach”
Or “Bonsoir cherie amour, voulez-vous une vin rouge avec moi?”
Or “Ole! Y I am nice hombre!”
Or “Myfamwy, Grwpiau Cyfeiriadur Mewngofnodi Ymchwiliad!” That's Welsh, Uwch.
Or “China, I can skeef you looking at my jean pant, yeah.” (In which, I'd abruptly make a hasty departure.)
Or “Love you long time, 5 dollar.” (Maybe I'd leave, maybe I wouldn't.)
I could dye my hair platinum blonde again, wear a red coat and wear plenty of home-made scarves.
Basically, I could completely reinvent my entire existence.
PS: I'm off on an Easter Extravaganza with my parents. As in I'm doing a road trip across this country with my folks for five days. Well I got nothing else going on have I.
24 comments:
OMG you must never ever kid about bratwurst, it's the bomb diggedy doo. (I really love it)
All your options sound really good, you must definitely do one of them, I'd say start in Hawaii as a relaxation thing and then go to Berlin.
So exciting :)
Enjoy the road trip!
-Chan
Thanks Chan. They're all pipe dreams right now, but a pipe dream always means that there is a chance they may come to fruition right? And also it's a really great means of escape for me - in my head and all that...
You could buy a big orange coat and pretend to be a traffic cone. Better not try this on the N2, though.
Kyk - Actually that sounds wonderful. It's both risky and would give me something to do. I like.
WTF? I go away for a week and my Peas' lifes fallen over?
You ok?
Ah Bill - you're very good at acting surprised my dear :) My life, falling over, no ways - that never happens! :)
Ha ha. Anyway yeah am ok thanks my long lost friend. Just moving with the motions as best I can, and not feeling so hot this morning but am focusing on plans. I suppose that's the most healthy thing to do right? And therapy, and a road trip with my parents....
Enjoy the trip. Shout if you want a mundane office job.
Meh...you'll do just fine!
You could also but on butch clothes & go play 'Jillaroo' down under for a little while!
You've got to keep those options open!
Or, you could train a la cop & track down the fuckers who nabbed your phone & started all this spiralling bollocks! Feck them!
Or, you could go to Antarctica!
Or, you could hop onboard some fancy racing yacht & do the Cape to Rio, write some racing/ travel/ diary blog thing & keep us all entertained! Then you can charter a yacht girl a la Kate Hudson in Fool's gold & meet a hot Matthew McN & hunt for treasure!
Sold, I want that one!
Shit, I can't string sentences together today...meep!
You can go to the dark crevices of the earth & teach tribes english...they got to learn some time, right?!?
Billy - well yeah, I'd actually really like a mundane office job - you guys need a tea maker or watercooler refiller? I'm your woman!
Kab - I like your ideas, they sure beat the shit out of mine! I'm thinking even going up to Mozambique and starting my own...bar hippie thingie there. Whatcha think?
If you became a Contiki tour guide, for Europe at least, you get quite a lot of those done AND be paid to achieve them!
Mozamblique...nah...too many cyclones & starving kids! You'd take one of them happy pills mixed with a Pina Colado (that drink) just to make it through the day!
The island thing...you've got to do it somewhere not yet commercial...not a feck where that is but Google Earth can be good for one thing, eh?!?
Champers' has a great idea...Contiki could be fab & the tourists would have a blast!
BUT PEAS! If you go overseas you won't be able to score cool South African blokes like me! ;-)
Seriously though, I'd go over and tick all those things to do off of the list. Go and have the fun of your life so one day when you're 176 years old and telling your great, great, great grandkids stories you can tell them about the hot eastern european woman you hooked up with...
And if you are interested in a job, I can refer you to someone who is looking for your skills. It'd be a REALLY boring job though...
Champs - it's an option, seriously - but I dunno if I want to clean up the vomit of 18 year old Saffas and Ozzies after every pit stop. But worth a consideration.
Kab - yip, there is MOUNDS of choice now, which is rather liberating :)
Tyrone - if someone needs me to work, I'm here! Please send me the specs on my gmail, thanks thanks thanks so much!
Oh and when I'm 176 with millions of grandchildren....ha ha ha ha ha ha that's HYSTERICAL! :)
*sob*
While I realise the advantage of having itchy traveller footsies in your current situation, I also realise that if you leave I'll NEVER have coffee with you again.
And that breaks my heart.
Ah babe, nothing's certain yet, and I'll be DAMNED that we never have coffee together again! Because we most certainly will. Also, and here's another option (because the word "option" goes through my head around 1000 times a day) - why don't you come with me?
I'm being deadly serious.
Oooo come play with me in London ;)
Miss M - ha ha! Put it this way, if London's where I'm headed, I'd LOVE to play with you.
OK that sounded sexually treacherous. But you know what I mean. ;)
'...could go to Bratislava and get hammered in some eastern bloc-dungeon with a whole lot of construction workers'
It's more likely that you would
'...go to Bratislava and get hammered in some eastern bloc-dungeon BY a whole lot of construction workers'
Talk about the construction boom!
So where you guys road trippin' to??
Peas, don't have your gmail address...
Rev - well we're in the Free State now...not helluva sure where really...just mielies everywhere...
tyrone - it's peasontoast@gmail.com :)
You don't even have to go as far as Hong Kong to eat noodles and get away with wearing pieces of garbage - you can do both right here in London! Plus you can act like a chav not only on the tubes, but on the streets on Soho as well. Come on, this is it. You know you want to....
reading that when I have been waiting for my passport for a year and have a seriouse NEED to travel again is not nice...
go live the dream!!
Britpop is dead. Nu wave is the new brit pop. Long live Brit pop. and HMV.
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