London Haircuts

I will put my hand up and admit that I haven’t been to a hairdresser since Jan of last year. I’ve never been one of those girls who runs to the salon every week for the manicure/ pedicure. A. I have better things to do with my Saturdays, B. what a waste of money and C. They always end up ballsing it up! Hair is hair, as long I can brush it and style it myself, I’m happy. I’m an easy child to please.

So over the last 14months, Justin has been cutting my hair. At first both of us were nervous about out money saving venture. But with practise he’s got quite good and he’s done me well. However with my trip to Australia just around the corner I figured I should really get a professional to reshape it back to the former glory mum paid for (Yes, she paid for that hair cut many moons ago!) I just spend the last hour ringing hairdressers across London. I am absolutely mortified at what they want to charge me! £56.00 for an inch off the bottom, my fringe reshaping and thinning scissors! £56, are you on crack?? For that price I hope those scissors are diamond incrusted and I get a certificate at the end! £56!! Yeah, tell him he’s dreaming! £56 could buy me a house in Zimbabwe but in London all it gets me is a 15min trim. Where is the justification! Who pays those prices, why are these people still in business? This is clearly taking advantage of people in need. It’s extortion! You wouldn’t take an old granny for a ride on her plumping but you’d try and squeeze me for all I’m worth when it comes to haircut time. Hello, Consumer Watchdog anyone?

The cheapest I could find was £30. £30 is more like it but only if you throw in a blow dry, glass of wine and the latest vogue magazine. I mean really. Why do haircuts cost so much. How can they justify it? Its hair for crying out loud and all you have to do is cut it! If Justin can do it, anyone can do it!

I’m really not impressed with the level of budget hairdressers. It’s not that I can’t afford £56, it’s more that I can’t justify it. This is a girl who picks up pennies of ground and keeps them in a jar. She calls it her ‘I-Found-Your-Penny Saver account’! £56 is a lot of money to those of us who don’t throw cash around willy-nilly.

So your asking, is she going to remain Ferrell and continue to have Justin cut her hair? The answer is yes. But I am going to go to Supercuts next week Monday for a dry cut. £12.95 is more my kind of haircut! Although I’m not impressed that doesn’t include a hair wash and head rub. I do like a good head rub.

Redneck Greenhouse ALERT!

Did I ever mention that the boyfriend is a bit of handyman wannabe? No? So I didn't tell you about how he refused to buy a dustpan and brush but rather made one? No? (pics to follow!)

I've just been informed that when we get from Australia he's building a greenhouse...
http://www.rankster.co.uk/instructables-com

My back yard is going to look one of those yards you see in Redneck land!! The word 'EWW' comes to mind but at least we'll have nice ruby tomatoes!

But I'm Happy With Who I Am?

I and 39 other brats were in the same program at school. We did almost half of our high schooling in German. At the tender age of 16 we were then shipped off to Germany for 3months. At this point I should say that we ran an absolute muck and after our little stint the groups to follow us were only sent over for 6weeks. We really weren’t that bad… I hope?

Now back in the day I didn’t get along with most of my peers. I really just couldn’t be bothered with conforming. I had my own ideas about things and in all fairness I was bored and ached for the next step. I just wanted to break free of the box and do my own thing. In other words, while people were studying, I was mapping routes around Europe and watched FX tables. While in class, all I wanted to do was sit and write stories. I just found the whole school experience very draining and not what I wanted my life to be. Although I now work in a German Bank so I can’t say it was completely pointless.

My whole life seemed to be governed for me. Go to school and be told what to do. Come home and be told what do. Weekends, free time but within certain limitations and it just went on! I had no choices. It seemed everything was made up for me. While everyone else my age seemed to accept this situation, I craved to be on my own. I craved independence on the grandest of scales. I was done. At the beginning of grade 12 (17 years of age) I made the decision that I was going to London… FOR GOOD! I couldn’t take much more of it. I promised mum I would finish school but at the end of the year my life would be exactly that, my life. In November I was turning 18 and by law I could do what ever the hell I wanted. Those friends closest to me know first hand how I struggled with every aspect of my lif in my last of school. I felt Claustrophobic. I needed freedom and I was prepared to give up everything for it.

I remember going to the guidance councillor just before the end of grade 12. She asked me what I wanted to study at Uni and why I hadn’t handed in my forms ect. I told her straight that I wasn’t going to Uni. So she asked me what I planned to study at TAFE. I ignored her question and asked, “Have you ever backpacked your way across Europe?”I’ll never forget what she said back, “Kellie, dreaming is not a career. You need to study hard to get anywhere in life.” I smiled, picked up my school bag and simply replied with, “that all depends on what your chosen final destination is.” At the time I thought it was quite philosophical of me! Pretty sure she just shrugged after I’d closed that door and figured I was just a lost cause.

On the 21st January 2005, at the tender age of 18years, 2months and 6days, I boarded a plane to London Heathrow on a one-way ticket. All I had with me was 20kg of luggage, £300 and determination to make it. Now it’s 17th March 2009 and I sit here in London and look out the office window at this marvellous city. I can smile thinking about all the experiences I’ve had, places I’ve been and things I’ve seen. I can take a deep breath and know I have no limits or rules to live by other than my own. I have a good job, a good man, a cute little kitty and the world is at our feet/paws.

I often think back to that meeting in the tiny little, brown and one windowed room that contained nothing more than a desk, 2 chairs and pamphlet stand. “You need to study hard to get anywhere in life.” I should have replied with, “Like you miss?”

I’ll be coming around the Corner When I Come!

The title is in relation to Brisbane’s International Arrivals lounge not the dirty thing you were just thinking! (PERVERT!) At Brisbane’s International Arrivals, you literally come around the corner of a big frosted glass sheet to be greeted by your friends and family. And in 7 days time I will be doing exactly that. The best part of any airport is the trolley’s, I will be perched on our trolley with suitcases while the boyfriend pushes me around the glass sheet. I often take a seat on the trolley when we’re at airports. I figure I may as well make the most of 50kg frame while I can! Heathrow T3 arrivals is the highlight of most trips because there is that long ramp down to the exit. The boyfriend lifts his legs and we both go flying down like a pair of nutters who belong on Jackass. We’ve only had our trolley confiscated once. It was worth loosing the pound though! I have a video of us flying down the ramp with 2 security guards chasing us. We out rolled them but another was waiting at the bottom for us. You can take our luggage trolley but you will never take our youth and intuitive ways of entertainment.

But back on track, we’re heading out to Brisbane for some much needed sun and relaxation. We’re out there for 3 weeks and we’re so excited we’ve taken to crossing our legs along to stop the wee coming out! I haven’t been home in over 2 years so I’m itching to see of my friends and how everything has changed.

That’s really all I have to say. My leg starts bouncing at the thought of going home in just over a week and the high light of my days leading up to our departure has been my count down calendar at work. Each day is one day less.

In other words, YAY, OH YES, COME ON, YES, OH YES, YES, YEEEEESSS! **again you’re one sick little puppy. But we all perverts deep down so I won’t judge ;)**

T-Mobile Get s A Bitch Slap!

I'm too pissed off for words! Here's the letter I just sent.

Dear Sir/Madam

I write to you after a brief phone call with one your representatives. I was speaking with a gentleman called Martin. I rang 150 as I wished to question 3 calls on my bill. Martin had told me that these charges relate to calls received whilst in the Czech Republic. I find this hard to believe as the bill states that the calls in question were made from the Czech Republic. I know no one who is with a Czech provider. Further to this, I find it very hard to believe that I had, in total, 13 seconds worth of conversation spread over 3 calls. All of these calls were received when I made calls, how can this be? There maybe a simple explanation for these charges but I did not receive one from Martin. He offered me several options but no solution. I would be very grateful as to receive more information in relation to these 3 calls. Please find her within a print out. I have highlighted the calls and times in question.

While I was on the phone with Martin I asked him if T Mobile provides any sort of package for travelling to Australia. To which he said no. Texts will cost me 40p to a UK number and 50p to an Australian number. Martin said I could take out an International package but that will cost me £2.75 (there about) per month and that will only lower the cost of calls received. I find it very poor on T Mobile’s behalf to not offer any sort of package for mobile use outside of the EU. T Mobile will charge me premium rates with no alternative options and for this reason I will not be using my mobile abroad but rather source an alternative option upon arrival.

I am very disappointed with T Mobile. I changed service provider from O2 after being assured that customer care was one of your top most concerns. This is not the first time I have had issues with billing and to then find out that T Mobile offer no alternative for travel outside of the EU is very concerning. I asked Martin when my contract is up for renewal as I will be considering my options when this time comes. He asked me to hold the line. At the point the line went dead and I was disconnected. Once again I am let down by T Mobile.

I suffer poor internet connectivity to my blackberry, for which I pay an extra £10 a month for, I’ve now had 2 issues with billing and not having clear explanations for extra charges, I receive poor network coverage when I’m outside of London, I can’t add on any package that will allow me to use my phone internationally and will be charged premium rates. To top it all off, your trained representative had no answers and then dropped the call.

I make the assumption that this letter will be read by a senior member of management. I look forward to your timely response.

Regards,
Kell.

Womb Pimpin'

Last night I watched a documentary that followed the trials and tribulations of women who have babies for cash. Now while this is a very selfless act, to give up your body for the happiness of complete strangers, it did get me wondering. Besides the money, £10,000 up to £20,000 a pop, what would posses someone to spend most of their adult life knocked up? One woman had gone through the process 13 times and now at the age of 45 was looking baby number 14. Great pension plan but what must her health insurance cost?

Now, I’ve never been pregnant so I don’t know how it feels but I know a lot of people who have been and they all seem to come down with this that or the other. Fat feet, sore back, rashes, diabetes, moody and god know what else. But as they say, no pain no gain. Fair enough, if it’s your own kid I’m sure the pleasure outweighs the pain. But you can’t honestly tell me you’d go through nine months of living hell for a complete stranger’s child? That’s just hormones gone ‘I-must-make-babies’ mad! These ladies are on Coo-Coo land!

On that note, having a baby for a loved one who can’t conceive/carry is a beautiful thing. I take my hat off to those ladies who do that for their sisters, cousins etc. Personally, I couldn’t. I’ve been told that being pregnant is a very empowering thing and makes you feel complete. I think this is because you’re fulfilling your animal purpose. Women are baby making machine. That’s why we’re here. To prepare, produce and then pop. Thank god society has allowed up to vote in between our nine month Triple P Processes. Otherwise we’d get so bored! Apparently during the pregnancy you feel at one with your baby. I’m sorry but if I ever go through nine months of not seeing my fat feet, craving weird things, mood swings, a sore back and on top of that, form some kind of whacked-out bond with the parasite growing inside of me; you can bet your bottom dollar I’m keeping the little monster. Like hell I’m walking away from all of that without a trophy!

No, I think if you’re going to have a baby for cash you have some deep seeded problems and insecurities. You don’t need to pimp out your womb to feel loved, special, complete and needed. But in saying that, these women have mad a lot of people happy and themselves a lot of money. If you can’t have children, maybe taking advantage of these women and their fragile state of mind isn’t such a bad thing. I know if I couldn’t conceive/carry my own child that I would probably consider jumping on the baby train and pay a fruit loop to have one for me. If anything else, at least I’d keep my figure and my boobs wouldn’t sag. I’d pay £10,000 for that get out Jail Free card any day!

The Day The Fat Kid Was Cool

Coming from a skinny person who's always wanted to fly; HOLY FUCK, THIS IS AWESOME!!!