Update 9: Spring forward ...

Hello to all my favourite people around the world and beyond :)

This is Margo happily checking in to update you on my life, if you are still interested and not weary yet of the saga (tick here [ ] to unsubscribe. If you unsubscribe you will be bombarded with junk and spam till you resubscribe. Heheheeee).

You may have realised by now that my sense of humour, pathetic as it is, is returning. There are so many things that are helping to restore my equilibrium, not least of which is the incredible and stunning blue sky that I am looking at right now. It is hot. Yup, HOT out there. People smell funny out there in the streets, a combination of steam, sweat and stuffy jackets thrown over shoulders. Scarves have disappeared and skin is the fashion of the day. Too much of it really; girls in sleeveless tops suddenly look horrendously underdressed, and cleavage is IN, baby!

Amazingly however, there are many tanned bodies out there. I can't work out if it's fake tan or actual tan from holidays overseas, and of course I'm far too polite now to reach out and try to scratch it and see .. heeeheee. Yup, I am acquiring some of the typical British reserve; holding back from laughing too loud, yelling across rooms and generally making rude comments.

In fact, a funny thing happened on the Tube the other day. As I stood there in the aisle, among the other heaving bodies jam-packed into the hot, stuffy tube-shaped space, I looked down and happened to see the top of some guy's head (as you do), and on it was a single leaf from some tree, that had clearly floated down and landed on his balding pate (the leaf, not the tree). Now if this was SA, and the really normal abnormal me, you know that I would have leaned forward and with some sparklingly witty comment, happily removed the leaf from his head. However this is England, and we don't speak to strangers on the tube here, you know. So for several very happy minutes and through a variety of stops and starts at stations, I gazed down in a pleasant daydream at this leaf. On this man's head. And when I left he was still peacefully, blissfully unawarely wearing his leaf. For all I know, he still is.

Are you laughing yet? Good, because it only gets better.

I have had lots of people adventures. One of them was meeting up with Hubert the Pole on the weekend. That's Hubert a Polish person, not an actual lap dancing Pole. Hubert was at American Summer Camp with me, and Dinah (you dog you!) gave him my mobile number, and he promptly called me up. We ended up in an Irish bar in Covent Garden, and got drunk. Yes, it was a veritable Polish South African Irish Reunion in an English city. What more could you ask for. Well, respite is one thing. He wouldn't stop feeding me Polish vodka, making me (yes that's right, really forcing me) drink it like tequila, with a lemon. It was ghastly. Although Hubert will always be an entertaining devil, eventually I could bear it no longer, and with a quick goodbye, picked up my bag, turned around and simply walked away. He was quite taken aback, I think.

But really, I just cannot, cannot, cannot cope with the drinking here. I realise that once I drink, I only end up drunk. Every single time. It makes me really fearful of going out in this town. Which yes, I know, is quite unlike me. But I really don't mind turning into a non-alcoholic, middle-aged old fart, if it only meant I could avoid the hangovers! So I have some bridge-mending to do with a Pole, but I'm sure we'll be alright in the end :)

I also had a lovely dinner with Andrew and his father, C on Sunday. It was so nice to meet C, and get to know Andrew from a new angle. His dad is lovely, and lives in an amazing flat on the 17th floor of a building on the central/east side of London. We spent hours at his gorgeous windows looking out at magnificent views of London, including close-ups with binoculars (no, no nudity in the parks out there yet). We could see everything from the London Eye to Hampstead Heath - and you realise what a peculiarly compact and flat city London actually is; quite, quite strange.

Then I had dinner with K and G last night, which was yet another surreal experience. They really do exist in a different city from me - funnily enough also called London. Their London is filled with rich black taxi cabs, and gorgeous Zen-decor bars with the Beautiful People and restaurants with glamorous names. It must be a nice place to visit. Sigh. Well, I did visit their London last night (in my high heels, which made me feel like I kind of fit in a bit better, so my feet ache like 'se moer' today).

We drank at a bar called the Rockwell. Yes, amazing Zen-decor. The drinks were a minimum charge of £10 each. Yes, that's ZAR100 a drink. My Martini was called Thai Martini, and featured lemongrass, coriander and sake. Hers was a Rose Petal Martini, featuring real rose petals and a rose petal liquer specially ordered in from some third world country where the poor people die on the hillsides, crushing petals for us Beautiful People in the Zen Bars of London. lol

Then we went on to Wagamama's where we stuffed our faces with Yaki Udon and Egamama. No, I still don't know either what it was we really ate. Could've been fish, could've been chicken. Of course by that time we'd had way too much to drink, so we could've been eating crocodile for all we cared. No matter, it tasted delicious. And the conversation got downright rude. I felt right at home!

Staggering home through Leicester Square at midnight in my f&*(king high heels, I was gobsmacked to see queues, that's right QUEUES of people lining up to get into at least 10 hot clubs in the Square. What's the matter with these people; don't they have jobs to go to!?!!?

Speaking of which, my job is going fabulously. I am enjoying myself tremendously, helped no end by the cool emails I get every day from M in South Africa; he and I have these long intellectual discussions which have nothing to do with my work, and take hours to construct and research, and keep me fabulously entertained at work. So far we have covered the global eco-crisis, string theory, stereotypies (correct spelling as far as I know, hey M?), instinct vs learning, and modelling behaviour.

That's all in between working for my 4 bosses, whom I love to bits and would protect with my life. [The next bit is censored, in order to protect their interests, and my job hehe]. Don't you all just love me and miss me too much?!

The most interesting piece of news is the most delicious, and I'm keeping most of the detail to myself, and one other (he knows who he is). I have been involved in a lovely flirtation on my mobile phone with a friend of a friend, whom I've met and quite fancy. We plan to meet up on the weekend again, and I have high hopes. I'm tired of being celibate and sweet.

So wish me luck, my friends, I know you will. I feel this sense of coming back to myself, a sense of regaining my equilibrium and a feeling of wellbeing.

But don't worry, because I'm still coming home in December and yes South Africa is still home in my heart.

Update 8: Spooked

Hello everyone - hope my emails are still keeping you entertained. They certainly help to keep me reminded in a co-ordinated fashion of all the crazy things that have happened to me in London, and help me feel in touch with everyone at home and all over the world.

Of all the crazy things that have happened, the strangest happened on Saturday when the mad soccer hooligan drunk guy, N from the house in Finchley, committed suicide.

I got a phone call last night from my friend K sounding very small, young and spooked, as he told me that they had just found the body an hour ago ... I spent today in a bit of a "dwaal" or a "daze" (for my non-African friends) thinking about N, and about all the things that happened in that mad, mad house in Finchley. I feel quite sad because clearly - even though towards the end he was aggressive, rude and downright scary - he was on a terrible spiralling path of self-destruction. It was awful to be involved in it, and although I am certainly glad I wasn't in that house last night as K, V and Y dealt with hysterical ex-girlfriends, police, paramedics and the Mortuary van, I do feel a bit pulled-up-short, and reminded that I shouldn't be too quick to judge people or get angry with them ...

So as the sky gets bluer outside and spring finally arrives in London, together with all the lifting of spirits, healing of colds and hay fever, and imminent house moves to new places, I'm reminded by these great big Cosmic Smacks to settle down and enjoy life properly. And I must say, the homesickness definitely is lifting a bit as time inevitably moves on and irritatingly heals all wounds. Thank you for sticking through it with me.

I wandered through Leicester Square last night as they held the London Premiere of the last Star Wars movie. Lots of fun and very cool! Didn't see anyone famous though. Too many umbrellas in the rain obscuring everyone, for a shortie like me to see anyone significant :D But it was great to be a part of the screaming hordes hanging over the barriers and waving umbrellas at the cameras, and Star Wars balloons and everyone saying "May the Force be with you" and all that. You know me, Sci-Fi Tourist Forever! (And lthough I may still be short, I'm pleased to say that all the walking is finally paying off with the loss of a few inches round the waist. Went shopping (yes, again!) last weekend for work clothes, and I definitely fit a smaller size now. Good, good.)

I've also had some fun socialising with people at work - lunch with L the wacky receptionist, who had lots of luvverly gossip about people at the office. And drinks on the balcony on Friday night - interesting to chat to some of the bosses and senior partners - makes them a bit more human! Then drinks with Andrew and his fun-tastic cousin F on Sunday night. Ohhhh, those red wine afternoons are dangerous! Big hangover yesterday ... I hate hangovers.

Other things I'm settling in to include getting used to the fact that it may take me longer than I expected to start studying, and start looking for property here. Everyone really wants PROOF that I am who I say I am, I live where I say I live, and that I'm not Chewbacca the Wookie or something! And that requires living in one place for longer than 2 months. Gosh, I can't wait!

Here's to getting settled and staying happy.

Love you all, and thanks to all the "a's" who got in contact :D

Update 7: Hayfever Haze and Geographic Ping-Pong

Hello hello!

I am high as a kite right now, happily breathing the sunshine and pollen of London, with a couldn't-care-less attitude. Yup, that's right folks - it's drugs. But no, no - not the kind you think. It's luvverly, it's delishus, it's delightful, it's antihistamines ...

After 10 days of sniffling, snorting, snuffling, hacking and suffering paroxysms of eye-watering throat-tickles on the Tube (oh horrors! now I know what it feels like to be one of those coughing, snorting, dribbling, drooling, sneezing, snotty gobstopper thingies that other commuters stare at one in horror and try hard to edge themselves away from!), I discovered that it's not flu, it's just a special gift from England - HAYFEVER!!!Argh.

However, after those ghastly 10 days, I finally swallowed a special anti-hay fever remedy, and was quite surprised after half an hour to re-discover the pleasures of breathing again. Gosh, I even curled up on the bed and dropped off into an exhausted doze (hadn't slept much either :D In fact due to the narrowness of the mattress itself, I quite nearly dropped off the entire bed.)

Ho hum, I'm sure you must be quite bored with all my complaints about ergonomically adjusting to life in London, but that's just tough. I know you love me, so you'll listen with indulgence and love, and not a little laughter. Right?? Right!

Well, firstly there's M and Muffin. Delightful as they are, I'm afraid life in the Council Flats of Tufnell Park is short lived for me. You can't maintain delightfulness when it's always only 2 inches away from you. All the time. But that's ok, because I do believe I've found the mythical, the legendary, the previously-thought-impossible - a home :)And you'll never guess - it's back in Finchley, only 4 roads away from the Housemates from Hell. How perverse is that.

So it's back to Finchley in June - geographic ping-pong, that's what I'm playing. But actually I don't mind cos at least in the mornings, I will be out in the open when I travel on the Tube, and I'll be able to get a seat (I discovered when you live closer to Central London, then there are never seats left in the Tube, by the time it gets to you it's jam packed and seriously unpleasant. Specially for a nasal, hacking twitcher like I've been the last week J

And the house in Finchley is just lovely - so different. There are 2 guys Nigel and Gary, and one Scottish girl, Tina. All are nearing 40, and seem like a "family of friends". There's a garden, and my room has a large double sliding door out onto the patio and lawn. The boys apparently work together, and every 6 weeks or so have a "poker night". What I loved was that when they mentioned it, they looked nervous. Heaven knows what goes on, but at least they have the gumption to ask about it up front, and look nervous. Can't wait to see what it's all about, maybe even some hot-looking players" :D

And there's just a lovely vibe of everyone sitting together and chatting in the living areas, and it spotlessly clean and ... etc etc Also the tenant in the room before me left a gorgeous set of harem-like curtains which just added a lovely touch :) Not to mention the double bed, the huge room, the space, the lounge, the size, the massiveness. Did I mention the garden?!

All this for less than I have been paying so far. As I write this I can't help but read over my words, and imagine that you are thinking like me, "there must be a catch". If - once I move in – I do discover a catch, I promise to stop my antihistamines and drown myself in phlegm.

Because really by this stage, suicide by snot would be the only alternative.

Ok, now that I've made an ass of myself laughing out loud at my own words on the screen, in front of all these Role-Playing Gothic Doomsters, I have to go pay a deposit.

STOP LAUGHING!
I will pack up my bag, wrap up in my jacket and scarf (oh the joys of spring in London), and deliriously weave my way out the door ...
Think of me and keep those emails coming. Loved the emails from Bonita-Tart, Gerald The Brave and The Homecoming Queen Lizelle :)

Where are you, Anita, Andy and Averybody Alse with an A!?!?!?!?!