Bath-mas

I have had a long and tumultuous relationship with Christmas. Actually that’s completely inaccurate. What I mean to say is that I haven’t really liked Christmas since I was about 14. I’ve blogged about it before, in fact, so I won’t go into great detail, but basically it’s always been a disappointment, or stressful, or a combination of both.

As I’ve matured I’ve come to realise that vehemently hating things is kind of draining, and also not particularly amusing to friends and people around you who kind of just want to enjoy their day and don’t want to listen to you being so *different* by not liking *Christmas*. I’m not about to buy tinsel themed outfits or anything, but my objection to the holiday has certainly mellowed.

And this Christmas just gone was the best of my adult life.

After LonDon, Boyfriend and I caught a train to Bath. Due to flooding, this was an adventure in itself. Our train was cancelled, but we (along with hundreds of others) were allowed on the next one. This meant we had to stand in Paddington Station waiting for an announcement and then run (literally run) with all our luggage and amongst a mob of people to the platform. This also meant we were on an incredibly crowded train filled with young Londoners heading home for Christmas. I haven’t been in such a 20-something heavy crowd since university. If you’d done a survey you would have found perhaps 2 or 3 outliers represented in a baby and an old couple, terrified at their mistake, and everybody else would have been within 2 or 3 years of the mean age of 25. That’s right, statistics, people, statistics.

Bath.

Bath is nice. Incredibly nice. The entire city is heritage listed, which means everything looks like it did hundreds of years ago, except that instead of having sewing shops and teahouses it has Marks and Spencer and Starbucks. Actually that’s an exaggeration, Bath still has heaps of teahouses. Probably they are the same teahouses Jane Austen sat in and thought, “I’ll make him seem really aloof and cold but actually he’s just shy and dreamy! Genius!”

When we arrived at our hotel, there was a jazz band made up of teenagers playing really good jazz. We listened to the jazz and ate afternoon tea and thought about how is was 42 degrees back home. Then we walked back down to the train station to meet Amy, who is our friend, who has been living in the UK for more than a year and who would be spending Christmas with us. Back at the hotel the jazz band had gone, but the afternoon tea remained. It was a good compromise. Plus we discovered the cocktail list.

What followed was three days of eating and drinking and being stupid. On Christmas Day we went for a walk through the almost empty streets, looked at houses for rent and decided we definitely should move to Bath, the three of us, and have adventures. We came back to a five-course lunch, where we befriended our waitress, got tipsy and wore paper hats. 

Hats.

Ok, no I actually got a bit drunk, so while Amy and Boyfriend went to the bar to continue drinking, I (probably not so) quietly excused myself and retired to our room where I proceeded to have an hour long bath (in Bath, yes) and sobered up slightly.

After dinner that I can’t believe we had any room for, we watched the Doctor Who Christmas special, wherein I managed not to weep like a baby until Amy Pond’s surprise cameo, at which point I think I looked like my face had had a shower. As soon as it was over, we switched channels to ITV, and Amy and I watched the Downton Christmas special as well. As strange as it is to say, watching TV that night was one of the highlights. I discovered Doctor Who with these people (Boyfriend and Amy, I mean, as well as others) and we got to enjoy it as it aired in England, together. Similarly, Amy and I have been watching Downton together for some years now, and it felt so nice to lie on a bed and watch a silly English drama in England with her.

We spent Boxing Day drinking. I mean, we went for a walk and stuff, and things were open this time so that was nice, but mostly we continued to make our way through the cocktail list. The head bartender had some kind of degree in cocktails. The dude was amazing; he mixed us drinks not even on the list, had a vegetarian Bloody Mary recipe and gave us all gifts at the end of our stay. Basically he made our Christmas even more amazing (and drunk) than it was already. On the 27^th we did the obligatory Roman Baths tour, had lunch and said goodbye. Which was sad, in a way, but also ok, because we’d had this time together, and it filled us all up, I think, with the maximum amount of happy points.

Boyfriend bought me this owl bag for Christmas

Things I managed to not mention chronologically but definitely warrant a mention:

 - Boardgames in hotel lounges are the business.

 - We came third in the trivia despite being at a significant disadvantage when they started asking England-specific Christmas questions.

 - There was a “ski bar” outside the hotel that did warm cider and jars of cocktails.

I'm not kidding.

 - We went to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve even though Boyfriend and Amy weren’t actually that keen and it was basically just me bullying them into coming so that I could sing all the songs and pretend I was still in a choir and that was really nice of them.

 - Some swans tried to kill us.

Right after I took this I started running.

 - The meals were absolutely incredible and I discovered what celeriac is and it makes good soup.

 - I was too drunk to work out how to use the bath plug and had to get someone from reception to show me.

 - All traditional Christmas decorations make 300x more sense in cold climates and did not fill me with nearly as much rage as usual so that was nice.

 - Hey Australia, let’s get some decorations that don’t have fake snow on them, how about that?

 - Christmas can be really awesome.

 For those interested we stayed at Bath Abbey Hotel and booked the Christmas Package. Seriously, A+, 5 stars, would recommend. 

LonDon.

Hyde Park

For the first four days of our holiday we were in London. We paid more money than is morally acceptable for meals, and learnt how to use the tube, and never once went to Buckingham Palace. We had breakfast with friends, visited The Globe, walked through Hyde Park, saw The Hobbit while jet-lagged (do not recommend) and resisted the urge to touch actual Ancient Egyptian artefacts in the British Museum.

I don't want to discuss how much this dessert cost me.

British Museum, home to all the stuff the British have stolen.

London is kind of incredible. Probably I need to visit more massive cities to properly compare it. But if you’ve not been there, it’s larger than you can possibly conceive, while still being manageable. You can get to everything easily enough, and almost everywhere has something worth seeing.

At the end of our holiday we came back and spent another four days in Londonia. We stayed in a different area and were blown away by how different everything was. Every restaurant had Shisha pipes, Eastern European men gathered in large groups on the street (doing what, I’ll never know) and the tube station had a garden in it.

Bayswater

That’s the thing about London. While Australians might throw the word ‘multicultural’ around like tomato sauce at a Barbie, we don’t really have any idea what it truly means. In London, you can experience a whole wealth of cultures, accents, foods and influences. And there tends to be pockets of London where people who identify with certain cultures live and play. We went to Brick Lane, where every restaurant is Bangladeshi, and men stand outside and accost you, convincing you to come in, eat, drink, enjoy their discount, don’t listen to that guy, he’s lying to you. The influence of Middle Eastern Islamic culture means that there are late night dessert shops everywhere. Don’t want to drink alcohol? they seem to say, neither do we. Come eat ice-cream! To which I say, um… yes?!

I spent most of our second stint in London feeling sick and awful. I had a cold, but it was also cold and wet outside most of the time, so being outside was a horrible time. But also, nothing was going to stop me from squeezing out the last few drops of our holiday. We did less tourist things in those last few days and more hanging out with people we know who live over there. Just eating and drinking with them, seeing things that they like about London, doing things with them that they would probably be doing anyway.

And it was in those moments that I began to see why they live there.

On the tube back to our hotel after the Brick Lane night, I hung off the pole in the middle of the car(riage) and glowed with quiet energy as I babbled at Boyfriend all of the reasons we should do it, or could make it work.

I’m not saying we’re gonna, but I’m not saying we won’t. It no longer seems impossible.

 

Things you see on the tube dot tumblr dot com

Woah. You guys. I’ve just spent a month in the UK. We’ve been back for less than a week and already it feels like a dream, or something that happened to someone else, or something that happened four years ago.

Basically when I think back to all the things Boyfriend and I did in those thirty days, I feel like we were drunk or something. And now I am living through the holiday hangover. I’m happy to be home (my own bed! My own shower! A fridge! My laptop! Joyous), but I can’t believe how incredibly lucky we are to be able to travel, to see stuff, to do stuff, on the other side of the world and I’m sad it’s over.

But I’m back to talking to you, dear reader, every week if we can both manage it, and that’s awesome. Also you should know I’m probably going to be blogging about our holiday for the next few weeks.

FREE GIFT! A Love Letter to You.

Well readers, this kinda snuck up on me, but this is actually my last post for the year!

 

Boyfriend and I are off on a four week trip to the UK so I’m giving myself a holiday from blogging too – I’ll be back late January with tales, anecdotes, photos and jet lag. It’ll be awesome. And don’t worry, yes, we are visiting both the Harry Potter studio tour and Doctor Who Experience.

So, with that in mind, I’d like to embark on a nostalgic post about all the ways I love you, my readers. Please read (or scroll) to the end for a very important announcement about A FREE GIFT.

First up, can I just say you are looking really sexy today, all of you, yep, even you.

No but seriously, I love you for reading what I write, for commenting, for liking, for lurking and for sharing. Every year I am blown away by how much support I get from you guys and I just want to say thank you. This year in particular, I was overwhelmed by the responses I got on my survey, and you all helped me realise that I could keep doing this, that I *should* keep doing this, and that everything was going to be ok.

Writing for others is really scary, even if all you are writing is stupid lists and introspective self-indulgence. Other people reading my words has always been a dream and to know that you are all there, on the other side of screens is amazing.
I love you for critiquing me, for helping me to be better, I love you even when you don’t read every single week (it’s a lot, don’t ever feel bad) and I love you even if this is the first post of mine you’ve ever read.

 

To my friends and family, you have been with me from the start, and I love you, you’re the best, sorry I don’t call.

To the people who feel weird because they don’t really know me but we’re friends on facebook, you make up the largest part of me readership, stop feeling weird, honestly, I love you. (Am I making you feel weirder? *strokes cheek*)

To the friends I’ve made on the internet, or because of this blog, or both. I love you IRL.

To the people who keep finding my Sansa Stark post on tumblr, I love you, don’t ever change.

To the random people who only ever used me for my stolen Disney images… I don’t like, *love* you as such, but we are definitely cool.

As a thank you to all of you, I would like to give you personalised Christmas blog gifts. These gifts will be in the form of short videos of me saying something fun about you from somewhere in the UK! Want one? (Of course you do!) All you have to do is tell me, in the comments, on facebook, IRL, however you want that you do. If you have a specific request, then let me know and I’ll try to make your dreams come true. They will be delivered to you upon my return, and they will be glorious.

 

Have a wonderful holiday, enjoy whatever it is you’re doing, know that I miss you and (in case you hadn’t picked it up yet) I FLIPPIN LOVE YOU YO.

 

Lizzy xx

Lady Songs

One day you’ll find yourself rocking out to some tunes, it will be just a normal day, maybe you’re on the bus, headphones on, maybe you’re doing the housework and dancing with a broom, or just chilling on your bed with some songs, anyway, whatever it is, one day you’ll be doing it, and it will dawn on you that the last x amount of songs all featured dudes. Like heavily featured dudes. Dude singers, dude instrumentalists, dude lyricists and dude DJs. Startled, you will start to flick through tracks: dude, dude, lady and a dude, lady but only as a sample on a dude’s song, dude, dude, dude.

You will stop then, and ask yourself, where my bitches at?

Or maybe you won’t. Maybe flicking through your songs will produce a more balanced mix, or even a lady heavy mix, I don’t know, maybe you’re better than me. But if you *do* have a moment, like I did earlier this year, do not despair. Because your bitches are right there, waiting for you to listen to their tunes. Despite what our itunes libraries would suggest, there are HEAPS of lady artists out there, good ones, great ones, we just don’t buy their music as often as we buy dude music. And I have got some recommendations for you!

M.I.A - Boyz

You probably remember the song that goes "all I wanna do is *gunshot* *gunshot* *gunshot* and *ca-ching!* and take your money" but M.I.As other songs are also great. It was hard for me to choose one but I ultimately settled on this one because how nice is it to see ladies singing about dudes like this? About ten. Also that film clip yo. 

Peaches - Boys Wanna be her.

No list about lady singers would be complete without Peaches. And this song is winner. 

Beyonce - Girls

Ok so you should probably know that I have a playlist dedicated only to lady singers entitled "Who Run the World?" and yes I do dance like an idiot whenever this song comes on. Sometimes Beyonce says really weird things that kind of make my feminism cringe (my feminism is a person now?) but she is still great, and this song is amazing, and my dancing is a sight to behold.

Bertie Blackman - Mercy Killer

Blogger won't let me do an embedded link but click here

Australian Lady Songs! Yes! Bertie Blackman has an amazing voice and her songs are win. This is probably my favourite though.

Kate Miller-Heidke - Sarah

I've loved KMH for some time, so it's very hard to pick just one of her songs for this list, but this one is kind of amazing and I heard it for the first time live. It's incredibly haunting and bizarre and those drums are AMAZING. Also a true story (almost - happened to a friend of Kate's), which is creepy as hell.

Nicki Minaj - Va Va Voom

I love Nicki Minaj. I mean, sometimes her music is really terrible (like if I ever hear Starships ever again I may have to pierce my own eardrums with sticks) but other times it's really good. This song, is one of those. I think what I love most about Nicki Minaj is that she somehow rides this incredible line between femininity and the "man's game" that is her style of music. Also you should youtube "Nicki Minaj bossing up" for an incredibly candid Minaj-style feminist rant. 

Kimya Dawson - Loose Lips

Kimya Dawson is a perfect human being and this song is also perfect and I know all the words and isn't it WONDERFUL?

Janelle Monae - Q.U.E.E.N.

You know this song right? Everyone should know and love this song. I'm not even going to talk about it, just watch.

If you’re asking yourself why this matters, well I get that, it’s just music right? It’s not the end of the world, why on earth should it matter? Well I don’t think you need to go away and count the ladies and dudes in your playlists and make sure you have perfect ratios or anything. But I believe that the little things we do can make a difference. That difference might just be opening your eyes to gender inequality in a particular industry, or just to new music, which is always nice. The difference can also be bigger than that. More ladies can make more music for our ears if only we actually bought their songs! It starts with us, the consumer, we can be better buyers, better humans, better song listeners. And we can listen to songs about dinosaurs.

Getting my Make Up Done in a Shopping Centre - A Review

We are in a shopping centre in Toowoomba, looking for clothes that might help us stay warm during our impending UK trip when it happens. I stop for just a second too long when the man selling makeup in one of those middle-of-the-aisle shops tries to talk to me. I say to Boyfriend, “hang on, do you mind if I just…” and suddenly my life is no longer in my control.

The man takes me by the hand, “let me show you how good it is” he says in an accent I can’t pick and then, look down, look up, I am sitting down in one of those makeup chairs and Boyfriend is making “what is happening?” eyes and I am making “I’m not really sure” eyes and the makeup guy is making “ca-ching!” eyes and we all silently acknowledge that I’m about to spend a lot of money.

“Do you have dry or oily skin?”

I have neither but I don’t want to seem rude, so I tell him that it is dry. He gives me some moisturiser to put on as I silently contemplate why I think it would be rude to say, “hello my skin is kind of ok?”

Then he examines my face and chooses a shade of foundation that will go with it. This is the real reason I stopped long enough for this to happen in the first place. I’ve never bought foundation before (not real stuff, anyway) and I want to stop looking like an incompetent child when I paint my face for special occasions.

He begins to apply the crushed up rock (mineral foundation grrrrl) to one side of my face and I try not to stare at his nose pimple that is basically 100% in my eye line. About 2 minutes in I start to panic that he’s going to leave me half made up unless I pay him and then he makes that exact joke and I am relieved, but also completely aware of how much I am being had right now.

I googled "make up half face" and was pleased with the results.

He’s finished, and he uses a handheld mirror to show me small sections of my face. “You see how blotchy it is on this side? How smooth it is on the other?” Yes, thanks guy. In truth the makeup is really nice, and feels excellent and he also drops in a few lines about not being tested on animals etc. but still, the shame tactics are A+.

After evening me up, we begin to discuss blush. I tell him I have literally never worn blush in my life (I don’t think, anyway) and, undeterred, he goes on a small rant about how ‘feminine’ is too feminine when it comes to blush. I don’t want pink, oh no, he says, that is much too feminine, but I’m also much too young for the darker, redder shades, which are too mature for me. I am an inbetween lady, it would seem. It’s a good thing I’ve got this dude here to police how feminine I should be, or else I’d get it all wrong.

No but, I probably would, let’s be real.

He settles on a “plummy” shade. And not only is there no “Hum Drum” shade, I embarrassingly don’t even make this connection myself until Tim points it out on facebook later. Pimple man shows me how you can mix the blush with clear lip balm to make a lip balm that perfectly matches your blush. It is like watching a wizard at work. Is this how other women live? Like, is makeup this cool all the time? Do you all have matching lips and cheeks? That’s awesome.

Finished with painting my face, the pimply man collects together all the items he wishes to sell me (foundation, blush, 2 brushes) and generously throws in a free pot of the lip balm so that I, too, can be a wizard. He hurriedly rattles off how much this little pile will cost me and I know that now I must speak up.

“Thanks but I think I will just take the foundation and one brush please”.

His smile stays in place, but the free lip balm mysteriously disappears when he is putting my things into a paper bag. Somehow, even after money has changed hands, he is still not done with me. The guy is a master. Now he is showing me a nail buffer, now he is filing my pinkie nail, now he is moisturising my hands. He is walking me over to *another* shop... “NO!” I almost yell, “I have to go, thank you so much.” I disentangle myself from his shop, find Boyfriend, and basically run away.

3 stars