Something just doesn't work out. And somethings just don't work out. Both of these being the farming job I had for 6 weeks in Busselton, Western Australia. Here, you work it out:
Wages per hour- $18
Hours accumulated- 65
Rent- $140 / week
Fuel deductions- 88c/km
Kms- 100
Tax- 13%
Gas / Electricity- $10 / week
So, for a fortnight:
18 x 65 = 1170
1170 - 13% = 1017.90
1017.90 - 20 = 997.90
997.90 - (280 + 88) = $629.90
Now, in my first week there I worked about 10 hours less than I did the following fortnight and got about $650 (only one week's rent was deducted, not two). BUT, my bank balance on payday, which I might add was 5 days late, was $250. Which means that somewhere I've lost $400.
After much deliberation / thinking / discussion, we worked out that instead of charging us for personal use of the vehicles, which would have been about 100kms each, our "boss" charged us for ALL use of the vehicles. This included trips to and from town to run errands for us, and in total came to about 450 kms each. This wasn't what was stated in out contract but he wouldn't back down and took us all for about $400 - $800 each.
There was nothing we could do. We were sick of cows, sick of Busselton, sick of the douchebag of a farmer and sick of not having money. So we bolted, got a $300 flight back to Adelaide and succombed to teh hitch-hike of shame all the way back to sorry ass Mildura where we started six months ago with nothing in our pockets and where we are now. Two months of my life wasted. Ah well, back to square one I guess. I'm going to have to make sacrifices, but I'll sort something.
Tuesday 30 September 2008
Thursday 4 September 2008
A Tale Of New Cities
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The best part of Australia being pre-USExcursion (that trip itself being one of the best times goes without saying, this is strictly an Oz-only blog.), the worst part being Australia post-USA. When I use the term 'worst of times', I use it within context. It wasn't the very worst- I still have both my legs and my iPod, but it was probably the worst month I'd had travelling thusfar.
Having both my legs and my iPod was / is a bonus I took / take for granted and probably will for the rest of my life. Or until I lose one or the other. Being without money was a situation I would never have liked to have been in in the first place, and would never like to be in again. Of course I had somemoney, although it wasn't actually mine.
At the end of my holiday-within-a-holiday to California (etc.), I kind of exchanged my credit card for a bar tab and sort of never got it back, leaving me no other choice but to reach for my mother's emergency credit card for the second time within a few weeks. I hate borrowing money. I hate it. So I took the bare minimum I needed, just to pay rent and stuff whilst iwas in Perth, Almost everything else was out of the question. Mine Murray's Australian bank account balance both consisted of the the horrendous three fat eggs. We were... what's another word for desperate? (aside: whilst reading this paragrapg aloud to myself from my notepad, Murray interjected at this point with a quick but damning "YOUR MUM!". Ironically my Mum probably won't get that joke, so I have to point out that it was no sleight on her.)
Finding a job in the city was harder than we could ever have imagined. Okay, well, finding a job wasn't so hard, starting a job was. Within a few days we had a job in an abattoir in a town called Harvey. As our wallets were too light to mention, we needed to start straight away, but it turned out cow corpses have diseases which require vaccinations which require time and money. We had neither.
A few more days of hunting, this time with Edd and Andi at our side, we acquired what we thought was a sound job laying turf. But yet again time were a factore, this time Turfmaster had neither; so after three four-hour days we were dole-scum without the dole again.
Rinse and repeat the fruitless job searching for another frustrating three weeks and you'll end up the same- bolting out of Perth the day after you've just paid a week's rent. In advance. Fast forward a three-hour train ride and we're in Bunbury. A quaint (meaning empty) town / village / hamlet / settlement right on the beach, and of course a beach is always a sign that things are on the up slope. We barely lasted a day in Bunbury (our week-in-advance mistake may have happened again) before we were sent to the even more quaint (see: derelict, isloated, Disturbance-esque) Capel. Which surpirsingly had more work thatn the whole of Perth.
A farming job? Well, yes. Within minutes of our much-anticipated arrival we were hawling pigs by their hind legs to hold on our laps like newborn babies whilst a vetenarian de-bollocked them. It took days to get the smell of pig scrotum blood, pig faecal matterm and my disgust out of my skin and clothes. But what-the-hey, WE HAVE A JOB! With a house. And a car (thing). Being isloated also means no money spending. So, Perth, if you're reading this, I'll be fine without you. I hope.
Having both my legs and my iPod was / is a bonus I took / take for granted and probably will for the rest of my life. Or until I lose one or the other. Being without money was a situation I would never have liked to have been in in the first place, and would never like to be in again. Of course I had somemoney, although it wasn't actually mine.
At the end of my holiday-within-a-holiday to California (etc.), I kind of exchanged my credit card for a bar tab and sort of never got it back, leaving me no other choice but to reach for my mother's emergency credit card for the second time within a few weeks. I hate borrowing money. I hate it. So I took the bare minimum I needed, just to pay rent and stuff whilst iwas in Perth, Almost everything else was out of the question. Mine Murray's Australian bank account balance both consisted of the the horrendous three fat eggs. We were... what's another word for desperate? (aside: whilst reading this paragrapg aloud to myself from my notepad, Murray interjected at this point with a quick but damning "YOUR MUM!". Ironically my Mum probably won't get that joke, so I have to point out that it was no sleight on her.)
Finding a job in the city was harder than we could ever have imagined. Okay, well, finding a job wasn't so hard, starting a job was. Within a few days we had a job in an abattoir in a town called Harvey. As our wallets were too light to mention, we needed to start straight away, but it turned out cow corpses have diseases which require vaccinations which require time and money. We had neither.
A few more days of hunting, this time with Edd and Andi at our side, we acquired what we thought was a sound job laying turf. But yet again time were a factore, this time Turfmaster had neither; so after three four-hour days we were dole-scum without the dole again.
Rinse and repeat the fruitless job searching for another frustrating three weeks and you'll end up the same- bolting out of Perth the day after you've just paid a week's rent. In advance. Fast forward a three-hour train ride and we're in Bunbury. A quaint (meaning empty) town / village / hamlet / settlement right on the beach, and of course a beach is always a sign that things are on the up slope. We barely lasted a day in Bunbury (our week-in-advance mistake may have happened again) before we were sent to the even more quaint (see: derelict, isloated, Disturbance-esque) Capel. Which surpirsingly had more work thatn the whole of Perth.
A farming job? Well, yes. Within minutes of our much-anticipated arrival we were hawling pigs by their hind legs to hold on our laps like newborn babies whilst a vetenarian de-bollocked them. It took days to get the smell of pig scrotum blood, pig faecal matterm and my disgust out of my skin and clothes. But what-the-hey, WE HAVE A JOB! With a house. And a car (thing). Being isloated also means no money spending. So, Perth, if you're reading this, I'll be fine without you. I hope.
Monday 4 August 2008
Suntitled
Here is a question for my own ponderance: How can one place be so fricking (my parents read this now) amazing every single time I visit? Of course I'm not talking about the actual place, I'm leaning more towards the people subject. You know, like friends and dogs and strangers that become friends and such. Not once have I ever felt down in that one place. Or scared. Or worried. Or negative in anyway. The only time it makes me feel bad is when I have to be dragged away and return to wherever I call "home" nowadays.
I've written blogs about this place before, once short and sweet, the other long and detailed in comparison. I will try and keep this one between the two. I don't want to list every single activity I participated in- be it running away from rides at Six Flags, winning at bowling, attempting to look comfortable in a pool or watching a million different movies with a million amazing people. I don't want to list every drink consumed within the three weeks, like the wine in the park, the mess at Le Nuit De Francais and The Matches' acoustic show, or the free "Welocme to our new house!" drinks. And I certainly don't want to list every person I smiled with, laughed with, ate with, drank with or spent a single joyous moment with as there are far too many of you.
I think it's clear what I'm trying to say though. I think it's obvious to all of you- the people who read this, the people I spent the last three weeks with, and every person I've told about my time there. I love that place. I love you people. My favourite un-Fijian place in the world, my second home, the beautiful, wonderful, marvellous, fantastic, fun-filled, love-filled California. (and Oklahoma, that includes you too.) THANKS.
Saturday 26 April 2008
How to Not Have Fun In NZ
My original intention was to write this in two parts, the first after the North Island, and the second part for the South Island. But alas, fun times took hold of any duties I should have embraced. So, if you intend to go to New Zealand and not have fun then you should follow these rules.
Volume One.
On your first day, you should wait in line at the airport for two whole hours waiting to be checked by security,but don't have friends with you. Don't spend $35 on a haircut and then $45 on a cut-throat shave because that's too amazing. Don't share a dorm with seven girls in Paihia, but maybe lose your friend on Blackpool Beach in Waiheke, or however you spell it. Definitely avoid meeting four amazing people in Mercury Bay who you'll end up travelling the whole of the country with.
Maybe you should visit some stinky geysers- whether they're funor not is a personal opinion but either way you're going to have to hold your nose. Don't go to a Mauri evening learning about the native Kiwis and their crazy dances, but you should try mussells as they're pretty foul. If you go to Rotorua, you shouldn't drink a lot by a swimming pool before going to the bar as you'll be denied entry for staggering up the steps and then you'll return to the poolside and smash a few glasses; that's too fun for you. Depending on whether you like flying without wings, you shouldn't jump out of a plane at 15,000 ft over Taupo. Horrible as it may sound, it's incredible so you'll hate it. You probably shouldn't climb the 6,000 ft Tongariro mountain either- you'll walk for 7 hours with no supplies and you'll witness the most amazing scenery, it's a happy trip regardless of the buckets of sweat you'll lose.
When you get to River Valley, don't try and climb under and around a table or sleep in a dorm with 18 other people and only one giant bed, but you may want to blister your fingers by pulling six people across the river on the flying fox. Look it up.
Volume Two.
In the South Island, staying in the "sunniest place in New Zealand" might sound like a bad idea but relax, it'll rain the whole time. Don't eat Subway every other day and definitely, definitely don't see Juno three times at three seperate cinemas during your stay, you'll enjoy it too much. Going to Abel Tasman National Park probably won't be for you, sure you'll see the same forest for three hours whilst you're trekking, but you'll see seals and kick dead eels and stuff so don't. Then again, they have sandflies there which are the evilist bastards on the planet- the moment you bare the slightest bit of skin below your shin they're all over the show and once you shake them off your socks will be covered in blood. Do that.
If there is one activity you'll certainly not want to do, it'll be going to a pub in the middle of nowhere where you have to dress up using very little material. Don't try the bumblebee, it's too awesome. And besides, you'll end up drinking a ridiculous amount and start pile-ons in the middle of the dancefloor and on the benches outside. Don't climb the Franz Josef Glacier for 5 hours whilst speaking French and stabbing your pick-axe into every block of ice you see. It's warmer than you think.
In Wanaka, you'll probably want to fall for the old "Go and see the lake dolphins! They come out at 6pm ever day for food!" trick, that's not much fun. In Queenstown, don't watch people bungee jumping so that you decide you'll never ever do that. Then that night don't go to a bar with half-price teapots before being dragged off the dancefloor by security and thrown out as a result. Whilst you're there, don't get stuck in a lift which then breaks for the next three days forcing you to run up three flights of stairs for the duration of your stay. Oh, and if you really don't want to have fun, luging is not for you. You'll wind up doing it for three hours and having the best day ever until your friend crashes and breaks his ankle.
And finally, you'll probably want to sleep at the airport before flying to Australia- the floor's kinda hard.
Volume One.
On your first day, you should wait in line at the airport for two whole hours waiting to be checked by security,but don't have friends with you. Don't spend $35 on a haircut and then $45 on a cut-throat shave because that's too amazing. Don't share a dorm with seven girls in Paihia, but maybe lose your friend on Blackpool Beach in Waiheke, or however you spell it. Definitely avoid meeting four amazing people in Mercury Bay who you'll end up travelling the whole of the country with.
Maybe you should visit some stinky geysers- whether they're funor not is a personal opinion but either way you're going to have to hold your nose. Don't go to a Mauri evening learning about the native Kiwis and their crazy dances, but you should try mussells as they're pretty foul. If you go to Rotorua, you shouldn't drink a lot by a swimming pool before going to the bar as you'll be denied entry for staggering up the steps and then you'll return to the poolside and smash a few glasses; that's too fun for you. Depending on whether you like flying without wings, you shouldn't jump out of a plane at 15,000 ft over Taupo. Horrible as it may sound, it's incredible so you'll hate it. You probably shouldn't climb the 6,000 ft Tongariro mountain either- you'll walk for 7 hours with no supplies and you'll witness the most amazing scenery, it's a happy trip regardless of the buckets of sweat you'll lose.
When you get to River Valley, don't try and climb under and around a table or sleep in a dorm with 18 other people and only one giant bed, but you may want to blister your fingers by pulling six people across the river on the flying fox. Look it up.
Volume Two.
In the South Island, staying in the "sunniest place in New Zealand" might sound like a bad idea but relax, it'll rain the whole time. Don't eat Subway every other day and definitely, definitely don't see Juno three times at three seperate cinemas during your stay, you'll enjoy it too much. Going to Abel Tasman National Park probably won't be for you, sure you'll see the same forest for three hours whilst you're trekking, but you'll see seals and kick dead eels and stuff so don't. Then again, they have sandflies there which are the evilist bastards on the planet- the moment you bare the slightest bit of skin below your shin they're all over the show and once you shake them off your socks will be covered in blood. Do that.
If there is one activity you'll certainly not want to do, it'll be going to a pub in the middle of nowhere where you have to dress up using very little material. Don't try the bumblebee, it's too awesome. And besides, you'll end up drinking a ridiculous amount and start pile-ons in the middle of the dancefloor and on the benches outside. Don't climb the Franz Josef Glacier for 5 hours whilst speaking French and stabbing your pick-axe into every block of ice you see. It's warmer than you think.
In Wanaka, you'll probably want to fall for the old "Go and see the lake dolphins! They come out at 6pm ever day for food!" trick, that's not much fun. In Queenstown, don't watch people bungee jumping so that you decide you'll never ever do that. Then that night don't go to a bar with half-price teapots before being dragged off the dancefloor by security and thrown out as a result. Whilst you're there, don't get stuck in a lift which then breaks for the next three days forcing you to run up three flights of stairs for the duration of your stay. Oh, and if you really don't want to have fun, luging is not for you. You'll wind up doing it for three hours and having the best day ever until your friend crashes and breaks his ankle.
And finally, you'll probably want to sleep at the airport before flying to Australia- the floor's kinda hard.
Tuesday 11 March 2008
Traditional Fijian Recipe
Before attempting to cook this delight, I recommend that you empty your cupboards of sunburnt, swollen, and blistered feet, tout rip-offs, Delhi-bellies, jars of Getting Lost On An Island At 5am Sauce, dogs that eat camera cases and California sickness.
To begin, you will need (in metric and imperial, just to confuse you):
16oz - 1,000,000oz of kayaking around islands in lake-still oceans
139 tonnes of amazing, incredible, unforgettable people
12g of Kava ceremonies
100 cans of Fiji bitter
12lbs of Barefoot for a Fortnight
1kg of Unshaven for a Fortnight
13oz of singing Wanna Taki Taki around a campfire whilst dancing like a child
200g of Falling Off Tables Whilst Pole Dancing
5 Crab Races
0 Wins
10 games of volleyball
100 photographs of islands in the sun
4 Fuck-Me-Up cocktails
2 nights of sharing an island with just 2 other people
1 foot rub
Throw all of this into a giant cannibal-like cauldron, then after simmering for a day or 2 proceed to add:
12g of unsuccessful fishing trips
70lbs of "The Island Where They Filmed Castaway"
456g of free-bar cruises
18 tonnes of watching sunsets
163lbs of amazing cold showers
7 Varieties of Fijian Islands
18kgs of drinking games
82oz of watching shooting stars whilst laying on eachother
An endless supply of fun and amazing days
And another few tonnes of fantastic people.
Bring to the boil, then season with a touch of parting sadness, and a sprinkle of Promise Of New Zealand and then feel free to devour My Last Two Weeks. It tastes of awesome.
To begin, you will need (in metric and imperial, just to confuse you):
16oz - 1,000,000oz of kayaking around islands in lake-still oceans
139 tonnes of amazing, incredible, unforgettable people
12g of Kava ceremonies
100 cans of Fiji bitter
12lbs of Barefoot for a Fortnight
1kg of Unshaven for a Fortnight
13oz of singing Wanna Taki Taki around a campfire whilst dancing like a child
200g of Falling Off Tables Whilst Pole Dancing
5 Crab Races
0 Wins
10 games of volleyball
100 photographs of islands in the sun
4 Fuck-Me-Up cocktails
2 nights of sharing an island with just 2 other people
1 foot rub
Throw all of this into a giant cannibal-like cauldron, then after simmering for a day or 2 proceed to add:
12g of unsuccessful fishing trips
70lbs of "The Island Where They Filmed Castaway"
456g of free-bar cruises
18 tonnes of watching sunsets
163lbs of amazing cold showers
7 Varieties of Fijian Islands
18kgs of drinking games
82oz of watching shooting stars whilst laying on eachother
An endless supply of fun and amazing days
And another few tonnes of fantastic people.
Bring to the boil, then season with a touch of parting sadness, and a sprinkle of Promise Of New Zealand and then feel free to devour My Last Two Weeks. It tastes of awesome.
Wednesday 27 February 2008
What Makes A Perfect Twenty-One Days?
Is it watching bitchin' 90s movies at Alex's house before drinking wine with Andrea on the way to see The Matches for the first time out of four? Is it a thousand attempts and shouts with everyone to request More Than A Feeling? How about 7 hour bus rides with Colin, Joey, Mal, Tori and Lauren singing swing versions of the Fresh Prince theme? Or maybe it's sitting outside bus stations at 11pm playing cards while a hobo named Nigel (in posession of a recorder) gets down on all fours and shits his pants right next to you? Or staying up til 5am pretending we're in some lame band?
Is it playing the Wii all night? Or Burnout all day with Colin? Is it making cookies and muffins with unhappy faces with Kelly? Is it learning how to drive and Ripstick in an Oklahoma car park? How about wearing gay matching scarves, which were actually far from either? Is it drinking a bottle of red wine by yourself and then being graffitied on and recorded doing so for the whole of YouTube to see?
Is it drinking Jagerbombs and catching lergy at Emery shows with Danielle? Is it screaming "I can't make it on my owwwwwwwwwwwn!" and "Since you been goooooooooooonnnnne!" at the top of your lungs whilst drinking disgusting watered-down whiskey with Michaela, Danielle and Noelle on the way to Tahoe? Is it building snowmen with genitalia and Down's Syndrome and rolling around in the snow with Nina and Eugene? Or maybe sledding into a cabin at 3am after a few bottles of rum like Sam? It's certainly not the Jiffy's grease-ball hangover cure, though.
Is it watching Saved by The Bell with Kim and Jay Jay during the day before watching every Saw film at night with Danielle and Sam? Or maybe just yelling "GARRRYYYY!" at every available opportunity? Is it drinking in a cafe with Jen and Meredith and being taken to strange cars by 60-year old hippies named Steve? Is it walking around Santa Cruz and the taking shots of rum (not water) with Mandie and Andrea, Erika and Sheila, and "the boys from over the road"? Or watching two movies by yourself in an empty cinema?
Perhaps it's eating Mexican food followed by drunken karaoke and sleepovers? Is it building forts with Mary? Or going in disco toilets with Adam and eating bean pizzas?
Whatever it was, it was an incredible three weeks. I can't thank everyone involved enough for making it as good as it was.
Oh, hi Fiji!
Is it playing the Wii all night? Or Burnout all day with Colin? Is it making cookies and muffins with unhappy faces with Kelly? Is it learning how to drive and Ripstick in an Oklahoma car park? How about wearing gay matching scarves, which were actually far from either? Is it drinking a bottle of red wine by yourself and then being graffitied on and recorded doing so for the whole of YouTube to see?
Is it drinking Jagerbombs and catching lergy at Emery shows with Danielle? Is it screaming "I can't make it on my owwwwwwwwwwwn!" and "Since you been goooooooooooonnnnne!" at the top of your lungs whilst drinking disgusting watered-down whiskey with Michaela, Danielle and Noelle on the way to Tahoe? Is it building snowmen with genitalia and Down's Syndrome and rolling around in the snow with Nina and Eugene? Or maybe sledding into a cabin at 3am after a few bottles of rum like Sam? It's certainly not the Jiffy's grease-ball hangover cure, though.
Is it watching Saved by The Bell with Kim and Jay Jay during the day before watching every Saw film at night with Danielle and Sam? Or maybe just yelling "GARRRYYYY!" at every available opportunity? Is it drinking in a cafe with Jen and Meredith and being taken to strange cars by 60-year old hippies named Steve? Is it walking around Santa Cruz and the taking shots of rum (not water) with Mandie and Andrea, Erika and Sheila, and "the boys from over the road"? Or watching two movies by yourself in an empty cinema?
Perhaps it's eating Mexican food followed by drunken karaoke and sleepovers? Is it building forts with Mary? Or going in disco toilets with Adam and eating bean pizzas?
Whatever it was, it was an incredible three weeks. I can't thank everyone involved enough for making it as good as it was.
Oh, hi Fiji!
Sunday 6 January 2008
A Metaphorical Kick Up The Backside
If this extract doesn't make you get off your ass and do something, then nothing will.
Taken from a letter from Alex McCandless to "Ronald Franz":
"...back to the same situation which you see day after day after day. I fear you will follow this same inclination in the future and thus fail to discover all the wonderful things that God has placed around us to discover. Don't settle down and sit in one place. Move around, be nomadic, make each day a new horizon. You are still going to live a long time...and it would be a shame if you did not take the time to revolutionize your life and move into an entirely new realm of experience.
You are wrong if you think Joy emenates only or principally from human relationships. God has placed it all around us. It is in everything and anything we might experience. We just have to have the courage to turn against our habitual lifestyle and engage in uncoventional living."
Taken from a letter from Alex McCandless to "Ronald Franz":
"...back to the same situation which you see day after day after day. I fear you will follow this same inclination in the future and thus fail to discover all the wonderful things that God has placed around us to discover. Don't settle down and sit in one place. Move around, be nomadic, make each day a new horizon. You are still going to live a long time...and it would be a shame if you did not take the time to revolutionize your life and move into an entirely new realm of experience.
You are wrong if you think Joy emenates only or principally from human relationships. God has placed it all around us. It is in everything and anything we might experience. We just have to have the courage to turn against our habitual lifestyle and engage in uncoventional living."
Wednesday 2 January 2008
A Moment For Reflection
Normally at the culmination of a year, I look back and think "What a waste." Like the chiming of Big Ben at midnight on the thirty-first of December is just the sound of another year slipping away, another day beginning, waking up in the same familar way. Today however, I metaphorically glance over my shoulder and see a year full of productivity and maturity (not maturity in the dark hours of the weekend, acceptably).
Never before have I been able to think "Wow, I did a lot last year", until now. Trying to list some of the accomplishments of Oh Seven (in a non-arrogant way) would be a difficult task to be honest, as I wouldn't be able to distinguish the not-so-important events from the oh-so-important ones. So, I guess I'll just decide for myself and list the moments that made last year so amazing, relevant or not.
Last year, I...
*Raised close to £600 for Link Community Develeopment by hitch-hiking all the way from Blackpool, down to Portsmouth, through France, through Spain, and to Morocco with Murray; passing through city after city and meeting dozens of amazing new people before finding contentment in the lowly hills of the Cascades D'Ouzoud.
*Travelled to London alone, met up with some people I'd never met, went to the free Mighty Boosh Party on a boat, with a free bar and drank my body's water content in Southern Comfort and lemonade. This resulted in me doing live punk-rock karaoke with Dave Brown (Bollo from the Boosh) in the form of Killing In The Name, then falling off the stage and leading my spinning head into the toilet bowl of the men's room.
*Made two new groups of incredible friends. The California lot and the Liverpool lot, you know who you are.
*Got promoted from lowly dogsbody to lowly Duty Manager. Oh, the joys of attempting to order your friends about.
*Decided in an instant to splash out three hundred units of my hard-earned Great British Pounds on a flight to California to spend my 21st birthday at HelL3. Spontaneity is golden.
*Plucked up the courage and ambition to book a ten month trip around the (mostly) un-Westernised part of the world. No doubt that will be a regular topic in my blogs in the coming months.
*Gone through four different MySpace layouts, three phones, three pairs of shoes, countless gigs, an infinite amount of alcohol and listened to over 20,000 songs according to LastFM.
*Still didn't finish my tattoo...
Never before have I been able to think "Wow, I did a lot last year", until now. Trying to list some of the accomplishments of Oh Seven (in a non-arrogant way) would be a difficult task to be honest, as I wouldn't be able to distinguish the not-so-important events from the oh-so-important ones. So, I guess I'll just decide for myself and list the moments that made last year so amazing, relevant or not.
Last year, I...
*Raised close to £600 for Link Community Develeopment by hitch-hiking all the way from Blackpool, down to Portsmouth, through France, through Spain, and to Morocco with Murray; passing through city after city and meeting dozens of amazing new people before finding contentment in the lowly hills of the Cascades D'Ouzoud.
*Travelled to London alone, met up with some people I'd never met, went to the free Mighty Boosh Party on a boat, with a free bar and drank my body's water content in Southern Comfort and lemonade. This resulted in me doing live punk-rock karaoke with Dave Brown (Bollo from the Boosh) in the form of Killing In The Name, then falling off the stage and leading my spinning head into the toilet bowl of the men's room.
*Made two new groups of incredible friends. The California lot and the Liverpool lot, you know who you are.
*Got promoted from lowly dogsbody to lowly Duty Manager. Oh, the joys of attempting to order your friends about.
*Decided in an instant to splash out three hundred units of my hard-earned Great British Pounds on a flight to California to spend my 21st birthday at HelL3. Spontaneity is golden.
*Plucked up the courage and ambition to book a ten month trip around the (mostly) un-Westernised part of the world. No doubt that will be a regular topic in my blogs in the coming months.
*Gone through four different MySpace layouts, three phones, three pairs of shoes, countless gigs, an infinite amount of alcohol and listened to over 20,000 songs according to LastFM.
*Still didn't finish my tattoo...
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