Twas the night before FauXmas …

Oh Fauxmas tree, oh fauxmas tree
How plastic are your branches?

Fauxmas Tree

Quite. Very.
Entirely even.

Fauxmas Tree

This year Craig and I are spending Christmas apart.
During our time in New Zealand, I’m spending a little extra time avec ma famille and Craig is spending a little extra avec … sa famille (sa? son? aucune idée. Je pense que c’est “sa”). And sadly, the only time that really made sense was over Christmas.
We’ve done this before! and while I miss his little face so much it hurts, we cope.
The last time we spent christmas apart, we celebrated with our own little christmas just after … the 27th. And it really really wasn’t the same.

So this year!! we are celebrating on the first of December! When everyone is just gearing up for Christmas and not worn out by it all. The lights are still sparkly and trees and icerinks are going up all over the city.
There is a huge christmas tree at the top of St Peter’s hill, infront of St Paul’s. And it is cold. Really really cold. The other night as I was walking to the tube station I saw fresh roasted chestnuts being sold. I mean, come on London, try and be a little charming.

Oh and because I amuse myself altogether too much, I called it fauXmas. Hee.

We have a fauXmas tree and fauXmas presents and we’re going to spend the whole whole day together.
Maybe walk along the Thames, go to the market, maybe go to Hyde Park to see the Winter Wonderland.
Maybe just spend all day in bed.

Fauxmas Tree

p.s. Yesterday was one week until our trip. And today marks the 30th and final day of na-blo-po-mo. And I posted every single day.


Oh that’s right! I have some not-too-exciting news!

The other night, Craig reminded me of some not-so-exciting news that I have. Adorable man, sharing my tiny internet victories like they’re actually news. (dynamic, integrated travel guides!) chose 4 of my photos for their online travel guides. 2 for Melbourne and 2 for Auckland.

I’m not just being annoying and self-deprecating. I would be much much more excited if they’d chosen photos that I actually liked. (Just kidding photos, LOVE YOU!) Rather, there are other photos of mine that I prefer.

Plus, the excitement has paled. I found out that they were shortlisted over a month ago, and that they were included, maybe a week later.
Mr Procrastination is my best friend.

Prahran and South YarraAuckland Railway Station

Auckland Railway StationPrahran and South Yarra

Who am I kidding? I’m thrilled.

The little one. She looks like she knows things.

I walked into the bedroom last night and found Craig thumbing through my copy of Belle de Jour.
I asked him what was up.

Craig: A* said it was the most fithliest** book he’s ever read.
Me: Oh yea? Did you say my wife has a copy of that?
Craig: No, didn’t think of it.
Me: Ach, baby! come on, I’m trying to get a reuputation here!***

* A = co-worker
** No I didn’t correct him. Yes it hurt a little.
*** Hi Mum! Totally kidding. Totally.

The lock of love … is in your eyes …

Water on the Millennium Bridge

In early August I came across a news story about the Ponte Milvio in Rome.
Apparently, spurred on by a best-selling book then a movie, lovers were writing their names on padlocks, chaining them to a lamp post and discarding the keys into into the wine-dark Tiber below.

The oldold bridge was being weighed down by thousands and thousands of locks. Lamps were crumbling under the weight and nothing could be done, lest the officials in Italy be seen as anti-love. And one could not have that.
Finally the officials placed six steel posts on the banks of the Tiber, and provided chains for the purpose.

A few weeks after the article was in the papers, I noticed padlocks appearing on the Millennium bridge.
They lasted quite a while. But they aren’t there now.

Locks of Love

Millennium Bridge declaration

Our Love is Infinite!

Our Love is Infinite.

Treguna Mekoides and Trecorum Satis Dee

Today? A confession.
If I’m trying to calm myself down and just stop thinking about something my mind has decided to obsess about I mutter to myself, over and over and over:
Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus
It works surprisingly well, especially if I am walking at the time.

p.s. It’s falling into the final week of NaBloPoMo and so far, fingers crossed, I have posted every single day.
It’s a tumbling tumult now into the final week (ish) before we leave on our trip.

My face felt … crispy

Wearing a sequin beret (me) and many many layers (both of us), Craig and I ventured out to King’s Cross St Pancras for an outdoor parade and circus.

Following signs and the frost of our breath we met with hundreds of others in a back road where we were joined by an orchestra and fantastic lanterns.




The raggedy wrapped up crowd all fell in beside and behind the lanterns and tubas and we processed (we WERE the parade!) round the roads to where the high-wires and wheel of death were set up.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mesdames et Messieurs, Dammen unh Herren …

Wheel ... of ... death

Wheel ... of ... death

Wheel ... of ... death

Wheel ... of ... death

Wheel ... of ... death

We listened to a small hip-hop concert, transcendental french hip-hop and painfully obvious community centre uplifting lyrics hip-hop.


And then! and then there were the tissue performers. Lovely.







Here’s a video!!

After two hours standing outside in the freezing cold our two-layers of everything had served us well. We made our way to a noodle bar (Chop Chop!!) by the underground and I was shocked at the puff of cold air that escaped from my handbag as I put my gloves away.


at Chop Chop

Sequin Beret

Craig on the escalator at Southwark

And by Sequin Beret? I mean Sequin Beret.

Sequin Beret

(Craig hates it. I lovelovelove it)

Sequin Beret

Tonight I am slightly falling apart. Just a little loose and teary.
And there is really no point in complaining my head off (oh please don’t tell me that nothing I write here has a point. I might just cry) so here are ten quite interesting things I have learnt recently.

All thanks to my latest obsession: Qi.

1. After Sir Walter Raleigh’s execution, his head was embalmed and presented to his wife. She carried it with her at all times in a velvet bag.
(I plan on doing this. Haven’t told Craig yet. I’m sure he won’t mind.)

2. There is a disease called Argyria which is linked to the intake of silver particles diluted in water, the most obvious symptom of which is a conspicuously blue skin.

3. Death by being hit by an asteroid is almost twice as likely as being struck by lightening.

4. The smallest dog on record was a Yorkshire Terrier that was 6.5cm (2.5 inches) high at the shoulder and .5cm (3.75 inches) long from nose to the root of its tail.

5. The last veteran of the Crimean War, which ended in 1856, was a tortoise called Timothy who died in 2004.

6. Almost every Banana we eat has been propagated by hand. Most banana plants have not had sex in 10,000 years and their genetic material has not changed in 100 centuries. As a result they are extremely susceptible to disease. Unless a genetically modified version can be developed soon, all bananas may become extinct.
(Maybe they’ll stop sneaking them into EVERY SINGLE FRUIT SMOOTHIE EVER)

7. Hawthorn flowers have a heavy, complicated scent, the distinctive element of which is triethylamine, which is also one of the first chemicals produced by a dead human body when it starts to decay.
(is it wrong I now want to get a Hawthorn plant??)

8. Triethylamine is also the smell of sex: specifically of semen; hense its positive association with wild springtime rogering outside in the fields.
(then again, maybe not.)

9. The latin name for Turkey is Meleagris gallopavo which means ‘Guinea-fowl chicken-peacock’.

10. Pistachios are deadly dangerous. They are classified under Class 4.2 of the International Maritime Dangerous Goods code: Flammable Solids (Substances Liable to Spontaneous Combustion). Fresh pistachios, if stacked under pressure can burst into flames and cause a cargo fire.

Days to go
fauxmas 10 days
Cinderella 13 days
Marilyn Manson 14 days
Arriving Hong Kong 15 days
Arriving Auckland 21 days
Arriving Wellington 29 days
Craig arrives in Wellington 36 days
San Francisco 51 days
2nd Anniversary 54 days

We know we’re not sane late at night. Now not early morning either …

I have to wake up for work at about the same time Craig has to leave for work.
(The perks of living near Craig’s work and well, I just work a later shift.)
This leads to me being sleep soft and insane, and Craig wishing he could still be in bed while he says goodbye to me.

Craig: be happy today. be happy like a Rose.
Me: … huh?
Craig: because Roses are happy.
Me: … uh? oh. I thought you said be happy like a ho.
Craig: No. They’re often grumpy.

I really … have no excuse.
I hate talking when I’m half asleep.
It takes me at least an hour to be alive & able to have an actual conversation.
I think Craig is just kind of crazy.