Well Dunedin isn't the prettiest town I've ever seen but it does have a brewery, a chocolate factory... and a great 'ol irish pub that does a mean $6 brekky & $4 irish coffee.

We stayed a little hostel called Central Backpackers, which, as the name suggests, is right in the middle of town. It was a nice homely place, certainly not the place to go if you wanna meet people to get on the beers with, but thats kinda cool because non party animals tend to also be non messy people... soup yay to nice communal bathrooms, for once. Anyways, enough bathroom talk, onto the important stuff. I drank a lot of beer in Dunedin. A lot. But it's okay. I was on holidays. And it would be wrong to visit a brewery and not drink.

The tour of the brewery was good fun, the fellow who did the tour was a top bloke and there was this stoner like dude with dreads & sporting a flanno that kept asking questions about home brewing who I thought would've been perfect for my sister. She likes 'em like that, a bit rough, yanno. So, after taking in lots of beer making super knowledge & watching the Southern Man TVC a few times, we finished up by pouring our own half pints (actually, i think it was more like quarter pints) of the 6 different Speights brews. Twas good. Me and the boy carried on our drinking at the Speights Ale House next door. And as anyone knows, a night on the beers needs to be followed up by a morning fry up (late late morning preferable). The Bog (irish pub, not random swampland) was good for this. I had bacon & mushrooms on toast with an irish coffee. So good. Nothin' like a double shot of whiskey to wash a fry up down.

We also went out to the peninsula to spy on penguins, this was unsuccessful as we discovered that penguins only hang out on the beach after dark (and after dark is beer time so no penguins for us)... we did get to see sheep, which I still find exciting & amusing for whatever reason. & the Cadbury factory, we went along to the chocolate factory for a tour. The best bit was that the tour guide was wearing big 'ol purple overalls & that they gave us Perky Nana samples (uhuh, NZ produces a chocolate bar named 'perky nana'; I know I can't be the only person that finds this amusing). And so that was Dunedin. Good beer, good breakfast, good chocolate.

Am now back in Christchurch & attempting to get into a routine again. I start work tomorrow (3 week assignment, think its for a Church?) and had my first personal training session tonight; I can tell she's gunna kick my arse a bit but she's cute so it's okay.

...I think TV2 programmers deserve a gold star or something. Nip/Tuck!! Hopefully they won't make a fucking mess of it like NINE managed to in Oz. Starting mid way through the season, then having alternate programming every other week, c'mon... Nip/Tuck is gold! Even if just for a perve on Christian, & Sean (and the hot hot boy love thing they have going on). Ow.

Spent most of today lazing about casually wearing oversized sunnies inside (its just how I roll) while watchin Dr Phil, Dr Oz on Oprah, Ellen.. then realised had watched 3 hours of talk shows in one day and gave myself a slap (but really, I loved it, not the slap, the talk shows).

Also realised I was down to my last pair of clean knickers and therefore today was officially laundry day.

Am of to Dunedin for 5 fabulous days. I endevour to drink lotsa Speights, eat lotsa Cadburys, hang with the penguins and dodge albatross crap on the peninsula. Anyways, thats tomorrow. The boy is driving. And since the boy is a snob he has hired a nice car to get us there in luxury. Right now I'm off to spend money I dont have at the Body Shop, they have some lil party thingymabob on tonight, double points for loyalty members & free samples & the like. Tis all!

Dinner!!!! Yummeh.

I love where I live. We have vending machines down on level 1... and 24 hour reception to change my notes. So even though its after midnight, and even though I only have a fiver and even though im in gym shorts a bonds singlet w/ no bra or makeup; I can still get a coke fix. Gotta love that.

ps: am having a bit of a love affair with female comedians on youtube at the moment (which no doubt I'll delve into further at a later stage) but for now, am stoked to have randomly found THIS again. I think the first time I saw it was when Zoe linked to the stuff about nail salons from her blog and I could never remember the chickies name to watch it again... and just now by some randomness, I did a search for Chelsea Handler and bingo! I got a whole lotta Anjelah Johnson fabulousness. So, check her out and laugh hard / have a perve ... go'ernn.

yesYES am so very proud, I did spend three hours this morning taping those boxes, & then some

The lovely lady at the office that I temped at today asked me what my 'area of expertise' was (as in what-did-you-do-back-in-your-country-before-the-travelling-and-office-hopping), I told her I worked in television (because it sounds glamorous... and because it's, well, the truth). Perhaps next time someone asks I can tell them I worked in television but I'm also good with boxes. Owww. Yeah, no. Okay. Bed time. Yeah.

Today was one of those incredibly long emotionally insane days. I am fairly certain i set a world record for the amount of liquid to come out of ones eyeballs. Really. Who knew you could cry for like 5 hours straight and still have tears? But I'm fabulous again now & tis all that matters. Though, I didn't get time to do the groceries, so all thats left in my cupboard is some peppermint tea, loads of mini jams & cocoas stolen from recent hotel visits and a can of pumpkin soup. Not making for the most interesting dinner, and in fact, I actually opted for the last of the nachos I had tucked away in my room and a 600ml coke from the vending machine down on level 1. Cuz I'm a healthy bitch like that.

I think I'm going to join the lovely ladies over at iCiNG for the 'Transformation Challenge'. I need a detox. Or healthy start over, if you like. I wont be going to nuts though, like I could not possibly go raw or vego.. I love my steak. But I'll try and cut some of the crap. & I've joined a gym here, but my membership doesn't start til next Monday (as I expected to be spending most of the week in Dunedin, not sure if thats going ahead though). Though, I'm starting out hard - got me a personal trainer named Nadia, who will hopefully kick my arse back to the size it was about 6 months ago.

I got half a days work tomorrow, helping a government department move office. I've been told I'll be making boxes (oh yeahhhh), watering plants (but i'm not qualified!), filing (i love i love), tidying the stationary (will try not to steal post its) & cleaning the fridge (i live for this, maybe i'll find off steak?). NOT that I'm complaining, no really I'm not. It's a start and I love doing random crap. Lord knows i'm not in New Zealand to get ahead in the career stakes, I'll take whatever I can get here so long as it pays me at least $18 an hour, let's go!

Random... I love how some Brits pronounce their G's... like sinGING. & then they forget their T's... like BRISH.... rather then say briTish. But when it comes to France, they are always sure to say frooonnncceee in that snooty posh accent they rock, and laugh to no end (and try to imitate the 'strayan accent) when I say frAAAnce. That's all.

The view from the window of my apartment at sunset. Pretty in an I-live-in-the-city kind of a way.

Strike one against flatmate. I moved in 4 days ago now. When I moved in the bin in the kitchen was full. Overflowing full. On top was smoked salmon. I glanced at it ever so slightly judgmental ... and shuffled my 20kilo rucksack & self into my room to unpack, surely the bin would be taken care of flatmate soon enough? Not so. 4 days later the bin is spilling out all over the place and the stench has overtaken the kitchen, not cool. Must take action. I call reception to figure out what the procedure with garbage is, do they have waste room? Apparently we use the big communal bins in the kitchen & laundry, these are emptyed daily. Righto, no worries, I shall take the overflowing bin down there myself (evvvvvvven if its not my shit, I'ma get right over that fact cuz I can not live with the stench of rotting salmon, nuh-uh).

So I'm there all dolled up in my friday afternoon drinks best, smelling pretty with my new Wang Princess perfume, and as I'm pulling the bin bag from the bin itself, food comes spilling out all over the place (read: all over ME). Ok, so an idiot could've seen that coming, not entirley sure what I was thinking - guess I just wanted the trash outta the kitchen ASAP.

As if being covered in regular run of the mill kitchen waste is not bad enough, I have discovered the cause of the smell that was filling the apartment, the culprit was not the salmon that I knew was cooking away in there... but 2 raw (and by now, very OFF) steaks. Yes. Steaks. I had off steak juice all over me.. and the floor. Lovely. So not only was I emptying rubbish that wasn't mine, but I was cleaning up off meat juice and gagging on the effing smell too. BLOODY HELL. Am really trying to be a very reasonably, easy going flatmate but is this normal? So I have a little tanty swearing like "WHAT THE FUCK OHHHH LORDY ARE YOU EFFING SERIOUS EW EWEWWWWW" only later realising flatmate would have heard my entire rant as she was in fact in her room at the time (ah well? at least she knows of my disgust?).

I know I have slightly high standards in what I expect from a flat/flatmate. I like clean bathrooms & kitchens. I think off food in the fridge is selfish & disgusting. I think bins going unempted is selfish & lazy. I think boys that can't figure out where to aim in the bathroom is super wrong. I guess I just like people to think about the others they are living with and keep stuff kinda clean and unsmelly. I seriously don't think thats too much to ask, I don't enforce things nazi style, I just keep it clean (so, it drives me a little nuts when flatties leave their slops everywhere, seriously yuck).

I dunno. Am I being crazy? I think putting raw steaks in a bin in a kitchen and leaving it for days is plain 'ol unacceptable, is that not a widely shared opinion? Maybe I'm just a horribly super critical flatmate.

OK. No more. I just needed to get the rant out otherwise I would've projected my overflowing-meat-juice-bin-anger upon flatmate and that certainly would not make for a pleasant beginning. Perhaps, and just this once, should grant the girl benefit of the doubt; perhaps she forgot what she had put in the bin, perhaps she had intended to empty it, I don't know. But next time I end up spluttered in off meat juice, I fear my rant will not be confined to the blogosphere.

I'm back in New Zealand. Land of pretty mountains & lakes (& sheep). Yay.

After a close call at Sydney Airport (I may or may not have almost missed my flight because when I stopped to buy Vera Wang Princess perfume at duty free, which, by the way, if you cover up the 'Vera' bit reads 'WANG PRINCESS', the boy noticed it, NOT ME); first stop outta the land of Oz was Queenstown.

Have I mentioned how it's probably the most beautiful place I've ever seen in real life? It's fucking amazing. Like a post card. But. Real. & I love the cold. I mean, I guess it's not that cold in comparison to [insert cold snowy countries here], but you know that brisk chilly air you get in the mornings? It's refreshing. & It means that all the pubs have fire places. The smell of smoke from all the fire places, it's a cosy & comforting thing. But all that beautifullness & sexy smokey aromanessss is not all Queenstown has goin' for it- I need to mention Fergburger. That burger joint is reason enough to pay Queenstown a visit. Also paid the obligitory visit to the Luge, they're like dodgem cars but cooler. Mmhm my few days in Queenstown were quite fab. I want to go back down for a week during ski season. I've made the boy promise to teach me to snowboard (not sure how well that will go but must be optimistic).

Am now back in Christchurch and am settling into my new place. I'm staying in a place thats for long/short stay, kind of a cross between a motel and a hostel. It's kind of quiet about the place, I've only bumped into about 4 people since I moved in a few days ago. My room is great w/ a double bed (ah so good to have space again!), tv with some sky channels, desk, broadband if I want it and hanging space closet. I also have a little kitchenette & bathroom I share with one other flatmate. We have access to communal kitchens, laundries, dvd theatre etc too which is handy.

Still sussing out the flatmate (you know you do it too, when you live in such proximity there is a natural curiosity!). She's rather quiet and seems to like keeping to herself. And, being my paranoid self, am already wondering if she took an immediate dislike to me or is simply quiet by nature. Time will tell. Seem ok so far though; the bathroom is clean, there is cupboard space and a shelf in the fridge for me so we're doin' alright! More later, I'm off for dinner & a pint at the irish pub down the mall.

Saturday's Village People party was a fair success with lots of fun photos to prove it! The birthday girl had loads of fun & even scored a birthday kiss (from a young man with pre approval from her bikie-for-a-night mother). We all met up on Saturday afternoon to decorate the pub with balloons (you know your friends are growing up when you've got an entire tank of helium and noone sucks on it) then headed off to Mandy's apartment to get dressed up and have a few pre-party champagnes.

I kind of had more fun decorating the pub and having predrinks than at the actual party, though that tends to be the way a lot of the time for me. I like spending time with my friends and getting ready allows for that- once you get out, people get trashed and go pair off and coupled up girlfriends like meee get left alone with the other couples or too-trashed-to-dance people. But i'm not complaining, it was a good night on a whole. We didnt actually end up hiring a maxi taxi so the walk down the pacific highway at North Sydney was interesting. A sailor, 2 construction workers, an indian, a cowgirl and 2 cops just out for a stroll, we were lucky enough to catch a maxi cab who had stopped to fuel up at the nearby servo. We arrived at PJ's at 7pm, drank lots of jagers + beer, took lots of photos, danced to i touch myself & mr G, headed to maccas for a 3am snack & called it a night.

We made our way back to Mands' apartment and crashed out on whatever floor space we could find. The next day we had a big fry up brekky cooked on the bbq (we even had our very own BBQ cookin' lad, Mark, what a champ, nothin' like having you brekky cooked for you). I said my very swift farwells to the girls (didn't need the waterworks, rilly) and headed off to the city with Heids where we ran around QVB taking photos for when I get homesick for Sydney. We grabbed some Easyway (my last for a few years, I'ma have a tough time breaking that bond haha, me & my easyway we's joined at the lip, harhar) and said some teary goodbyes outside of KFC on George St (tears were followed by greasy chicken, mmm) :( :(

Then I had the joy of a 2 hour train trip back up the coast. I must say, that is one thing I certainly will NOT miss about Oz. Bloody central coast bogans! I actually had a banana peel hurled at me on my way to Sydney (ok so I'm fairly certain that I wasn't the initial target, but my chesty bonds singlet still ended up splattered in banana muck).

& fast forward to this morning, I get a txt from one of the girls, So, how embarassing, when your boss has a go at you about a hickey you didn't even know you had, I shoot back, You mean the one I told you to cover up on the weekend?. Hahaha, my girlfriends are all class. And I shall miss them! I've decided I need to get a cork board for my room in NZ, & fill it up with lotsa photos of my Sydney escapades. Know what else I'll miss about Oz? Pervin' on Shannon from The Biggest Loser. What. A. Stud.

So yesterday I decided to treat myself to some Macca's. Mmhmm. After 4 days of packed lunchs and two days of craving I figured I best live up to my nickname (it's McChicken for those of you playing at home. Yeah, I don't know). I ended up queing for over 20 minutes. 20. MINUTES! Bleh. Now, it's not like the macca's kiddies weren't doing their absolutes best, ya know, they were baking and serving and running around like they should be and all. But it's this stupid bloody new concept of everything being cooked to order. Some fucking idiot who obviously doesn't line up for his McDonalds at lunch come up with concept that fresh is better. Ok, now look, I'm all for food not being 3 days old and stuff. But shit, we're talking FAST food here... and it's not fast if you cook every bloody cheeseburger as some twatty customer asks for it. I really have no objection to eating a burger thats been sitting in your little heater for a while AND looking at the rest of Macca's clientel, well geez, they're at Macca's aren't they? Not entirely discerning, if they were they'd be at Nando's or something (cuz exxy fast food is class, bitches). Seriously, at somewhere with as higher turnover as Macca's it's bound to have not been there too long anyhow. So to sum up, people do not come to Macca's for some gourmet fresh n healthy dining experience. We come to indulge in something horribly calorie rich, dripping in fat & tasting del.ici.ous. & PS: we want our shit fast. STAT. NOW. If I have to wait 20 minutes in a Maccas store ever again I'm gunna go cook the fucking burger/nuggets/whatever mahSELF. Yeah. Or, go to Burger King. OH oh, can you imagine how many 14 year old Macca's chicks are gunna get beat up at those 24 hour stores at like 4am on Saturday night/morning? Drunks aren't known for their patience.

Done with my rant. & am off to Sydders. For one final night of crazy with my girlies - I'll post pictures tomorrow (if they aren't too tragic).

End of another week! And just 1 more week before I fly out to NZ, very exciting! Went to see St Trinians at Showcase last night, what a fabulous movie. Am left wondering how I could work sheer black thigh high suspenders into my everyday wardrobe without looking like a call girl, am not sure its possible. Not sure who the blondie with big curly hair was, but lordy, what a hottie. She actually looked a lot like a girl I used to work with. Speaking of work, tryed emailing one of the PA's I used to work with and got an auto response saying she has left the company. How things change, hey. I guess I did leave 7 months ago now, one is bound to be out of the loop on comings and goings after such a period.

Quiet one tonight, even if it is my second last friday night in Oz. Tomorrow, however, will be massive. My best friends 25th. I'm getting the train down to Sydneyland in the morning and I think I can safely say that it's going to be the best night out since Mardi Gras (though perhaps not better than). I've got my costume all set- it's Village People themed and I chose the construction worker. Yeah, unsexy, I know. I'm wearing khaki short shorts, pale blue chesty bonds, yellow fluro vest, hard hat & black peep toe heels (figured works boots would be taken 'unsexy' a bit far - we are out in the city afteralls). But seriously, there is going to be like 30 cops at the party, not that I want to stand out a great deal (says the girl in the fluro safety vest) I just didnt want to be compared to the other however many hotties dressed all sexy in their police lady get ups ! Speaking of the cop, my other best mate has chosen to go as a cop... and the birffffday girl? She's going as a Sailor. & yes, she is aware that technically the Sailor was not one of the VP but they were all Sailors in the In The Navy clip and she IS the birthday girl so she can do anything she damn well pleases.

Apparantly to get us from pre-drinkies at her apartment into the city, she's ordered a mini bus/maxi cab to shuttle us. Haha, beats trying to flag down a taxi dressed as a Village People Person (VPP?)... Still gunna be a laugh though, a bus full of Indians, Cops, Bikies, Military and Construction Workers (did I forget any?) piling out of a mini van in the middle of the city. Bring on the party!!

Oh. & this will also be my last night out with the girls before I head OS. For real this time, last time I knew they'd be over in the UK for catch ups. But they're back now and I'm off again. I won't see my girls for over 2 years. Thats insane, a lot can happen in that time (and I'm sure a lot will). It's also the last time I'll spend in Sydney before I go... I'm gunna drink as much Easyway as I can and stare at the harbour long & hard & say farewell to the place that feels like home. Rollllllll on the weekend!

Well, my ears still ache but I dragged my sorry arse to work today. I'm a temp, so every day I miss is like throwing $100 down the drain, and I'm saving for the UK, so I really cannot justify a second day off - I just need to toughen up (!!) - Mum managed to score me some Neurofen Plus (which are half the strength of the Neurofen Express that I got at Boots in the UK, those hardcore Brits!).

Anyways I was thinking and, I, like the majority of Sunday night television viewers (according to AC Neilson), caught the come back episode of Gladiators on the weekend. Gladiators first aired on the Seven Network in 1995. That puts me at 9 years old. Back then it was this crazy, larger then life game show and the Gladiators were not regular people, they were hardcore scary warriers. Well, I must admit my experience viewing the show is not the same as it was for me as a 9 year old, all those years ago. A few critics have noted that the new Gladiators don’t stand up to the original line up, an argument that should be taken with a grain of salt, as this argument (remake/reprise-not-as –good-as-original) is one that is not applied merely to this program, but to anything and everything that is remade. Though, the critics are correct to a certain extent, I mean we have the likes of Olympic pole vaulter, Tatiana Grigorieva, who is more model then Gladiator. But then there is also Amazon (pictured), who looks as though she could snap you in two and crush you without even working up a sweat. I guess, reflecting upon it all, I do not particularly care about exactly how the this years Gladiators stand up to those of 1995. The real selling point of this program is that is it a fantastic excuse to have perve on a bunch of fit girls wrestling each other whilst being immaculatly groomed and wearing skimpy lycra. And all in prime time. Outstanding work Seven!

So by some turn of events I find myself at home & watching Dr Phil and Oprah, rather then filing and entering data at the office. Actually, it's hardly suprisingly that I've finally gotten myself to the point of having to chuck a sickie. The rest of my office has been sick this past couple of weeks, which is why I felt no hesitations in soldiering on through the sneezes, tickly throat and coughing attacks of the past couple of days. By yesterday the sneezing had haulted, coughing was at bay, my chest was still a bit tight but I thought I was on the up and up. Well, that was until I wokeup at 4am with earaches. BITCH! I had about 3 weeks of earaches when I was in the UK, they were so bad I ended up in bed with a hot water bottle on NYE instead of out partying in London! Devo!! Anyways, they're back. I'm doped up on Neurofen Express & they are doing a fabulous job of temporarily masking the pain. I only have 2 left and I bought them while I was in the UK, not sure if you can get them here in Oz. Have sent my mother on a mission to the chemist to see if she can pick up something of similar pain eradicating strength. I so can not have this earache in a week.. earache + ears popping on flight = massive pain! On the plus side I am taking advantage of this time off to burn my music onto my vaio and go through my wardrobe to cull the unneccessaries. I've listed the shoes I won't be taking with me on ebay and am getting a big bag of stuff ready to drop off at the Salvo's. Then I only need to organise pay slips & important papers, pack my bag and go to the doctors. Right on.

I have 6 more days left at my current temp job. And 10 days until I flight out to New Zealand. Then about 5 months until I leave NZ for the UK. It's good having stuff to look forward too. In fact, I can't imagine life stuck in some ordinary job in some ordinary city with nothing exciting or unpredictable on the horizon.

I leave Australia next Saturday on an 8:30am flight from Sydney Airport. First stop is Queenstown for a week, then up to Christchurch (for god knows how long, but certainly no longer then September... thats my get-to-the-UK deadline). I'm flying Qantas, I've never flown with them before.. I usually opt for the cheap arse flights on Jetstar or Virgin Blue. Anyways, I have quite a few things to do before leaving Australia, so I've decided to finish my current temp assignment on Wednesday giving me Thursday and Friday to get all those loose ends tied up. So far on the to do list is;

• Gather group certificates & payslips for 07/08 (as proof of funds for UK VISA application & also for completing etax return come July.. or whenver the hell we are supposed to do that)
  
• Sort out what clothes I'm taking and then take the rest to Vinnies.
  
• Go to the GP & have a check up (& hope they dont expect me to stick around for bloods results & the like, because it's not happening!)
  
• Burn the rest of my music CD's onto my laptop
  
• PACK. Actually put it all into the rucksack (!! yay)
  

It's a strange feeling, leaving Australia. I mean, I did it a few times last year but each time I knew I'd be back sooner rather then later (well except the time I left in Sept, but that happened so fast I had no time to think, really). This time I know that I won't be back for years. I think it was a good thing, going to the UK over Christmas. I was originally massivley pissed off about spending so much money on a 1 month trip to the other side of the world, and at Christmas, the most expensive time of the year (my return flights set me back 3 grand. Yup. 3 grand.). I mean, especially when I was trying to save to go do the 2 year working holiday thing. But, it kind of gave me an idea of what I was getting myself into. Baptism of fire ice. Luftansa managed to lose my rucksack somewhere between NZ & London so all I had was what I was wearing and the jack shit I packed in my carry on (I packed the hair straightener, but no sensible shoes.. what? AND only 1 change of knickers. It's ok, I've learnt). I was wearing thongs, after all, it was like 30 degrees when I left NZ... It was below 0 degrees when my flight touched down in Heathrow. My toes were lovely shaded of frozen blue.

The thing that struck me the most though, was the sky, it really was grey. I got a few days of blue sky, but on a whole it was quite dreary. I know I know, everyone knows England is like that, but now I REALLY get it. And it getting dark at like 4pm in winter. Not sure how I'm going to go with that- you know, going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark. Strange. Anyways. No use stressin' the small stuff (better to stress about all that moola I spent over Christmas and New Year that i'm now having to resave)- good times ahead, roll on England !