Oh my God. (Again).
All I can really paraphrase so far, is the following:
To have my boyfriend around - as in day-to-day - and knowing I won't have a traumatic airport goodbye to do in a few days, is really amazing.
He's learning as much as I am at the moment, particular about areas in London. I am being put up in Earls Court for 2 weeks, so we're trying to establish things like 'Is this a cool place to live? Is there a pub within walking distance?'
Et cetera. He has to move soon too, and we're discovering where the best places are to buy, to rent, and to be, based on what we can afford and what we want.
That said, we've decided not to move in together straight away.
Who said chivalry is dead? And too much too soon can't be a good thing. I want to ease into London, be courted, and above all - make good decisions.
Also, I want to make friends, inhabit a digs and re-integrate into communal living. Then we will see after some time has passed, and possibly buy something together. I am so excited for both.
God I'm a sensible bird. Almost 30 and almost wise?
The shops here offer around 45 different varieties of sandwich at Tesco.
Something I hadn't noticed before either.
I had 'roast chicken & stuffing' for breakfast. Although 'poached salmon & watercress' looked nice.
I have viewed some pretty epic shoe boxes in the last day.
And by that, I don't mean a box of Jimmy Choos. Rooms for rent, in good locations. Except all there is room for is to stand up. One bedroom didn't even have a window. Now I know London-living is dense and small, but this is ridiculous.
So I have changed knack. I am no longer looking in South Kensington or thereabouts. Simply because they're too fucking small.
I am now looking at house shares in Clapham, Fulham and Battersea - where there is a possible garden or terrace, a room I can do a star-jump in, and some cool flatmates.
I am going shopping this weekend.
I have purposefully not bought any clothes for myself (give or take....ok maybe a few items here or there....) for at least 9 months. I gave away half my wardrobe on leaving South Africa, and now I'm ready to invade and conquer Top Shop with a disturbing vengeance.
I never thought I'd consider this, but...
I'm gonna have to get myself some, eeek, gasp, takkies. Commuter-shoes. Shoes that men should only wear. Because teetering around in my ballet flats and high heels isn't feasible in this place. Trust me.
Takkies. God. Who'd a thunk it.