Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Moving in the right direction

Bonjourno senor

Since my last post, I have been inundated with many questions from my scores of adoring fans…Kate do you realise what haggis actually contains? Can you tell me where job centre is? Excuse me miss, can you please get down from the marquee? But that’s not an accurate cross section, so here are the more frequently asked ones, answered for my little darlings peace of mind…

Why haven’t you posted lately?

Because I’ve been busy doing other things, like setting the world record for Most Sausage Rolls Consumed in a 24 Hour Period (10 if you were wondering) and maintaining homeostasis.

Have you got any tattoes in Camden yet?

No. But I’ve met a very nice young DIY tattooist who has a home studio and is willing to cut me some sick rates on a Southern Cross on my back, maybe Carpe Diem around my neck, and a Julia Gillard caricature on my arms.

How are you?


What are you eating?

Eggs, mainly. Because there are so many ways to cook them (runny, on toast, in toast, scrambled, boiled, raw, the one where I put stuff in with it and mix it around the pan, etc). Obviously sausage rolls as well, and also I have indulged in green tea, a quite poorly crafted sub (slow service and untesselated cheese as well – definitely not returning), and any rotten fruit or vege I can negotiate from Yousef (“rotten” is quite an abstract, concept word here).

Have you done much sight seeing lately?

Though the prospect of immersing myself in busy places of interest (interest here is a strong word) with mind-atrophying brainless tourists and overpriced food outlets is very appealing, I’m momentarily distracting by twiddling my thumbs.

How is work?

GREAT. This is the first job where I can swear and yell at the customers. Are these the toilets? What else would they be dipshit? Can I have your number? Fuck off twat. I want two JD and coke. WAS THAT TWO JD AND COKES PLEASE? Though I’m paid at minimum (or below) wage, 5.75/hr, and tips are pretty bad, it’s lots of fun, and I feel myself getting more ‘cultured’ with every Polish gothic metal song my ears are greeted with.

When are you coming back?

I don’t know.

Can you please lend me a pound?

Funny that, I was going to ask you the same question mate.

Have you made many friends?


Many plans to travel Europe?

Yes, actually next week I’m heading to Oktoberfest in Munich (which happens to be a part of a small relatively unknown country called GERMANY). I also have unplanned plans to scope out Brighton, and maybe Dublin and Belfast after my birthday sometime. Hey it’s my birthday in two weeks!

Are you homesick at all?

For Brisbane? Yeah right.

Did you get my letter?

No, I didn’t, you’ll have to send it again.

Flat 56, Crowndale Royal Court, Crowndale Road, CAMDEN NW1 1TY.

Your credit card is declined, did you want to pay with cash?

Ummmmmmmmm…I have some money outside…my friend out there – in the urine-stained poncho – he’s got my coins….i’ll be back in a tick………….

I’m looking for Her Majesty Kate Fitzpatrick?

Yes, that’s me. What are you looking at? Get back to work my royal subjects and make my kingdom as clean as possible.

Who put the bop in the bop-she-bop-she-bop?

I did. It’s there for a reason.

I hope that keeps all of you eager beavers settled for awhile. This week I’m busy working, sleeping, a little bit of studying (up to week two yee haw) and consuming bulk pints most nights. Staff drinks after work are keeping me in form on the weekends and through the weekdays I have accumulated a network of various drinking partners for different nights, ranging from a famous convicted graffiti artist to a German cupcake vendor. Sadly two more of my friends are heading back to their countries having served their sentences in London, however one more has come over, and my good chum Justine is coming down from the mid and/or highlands on Friday. Now having mastered the modern ‘convenience’ of the gas stove, I must focus my efforts on conquering the ‘broom’ contraption, while simultaneously putting my nasty hangover to the back of my mind. Ah, multitasking, a women’s worst nightmare.

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