Wow, two LJ posts in two days. I must be slacking off at work again!

Right, so today marks the 10 year anniversary of my arrival in the UK. (Or my return to the UK, if I'm being pedantic.) So now I'm going to take a moment of egocentric self contemplation to think about what those years mean, how I remember them and who I've become.

The pre-ambling background is that I was quite an unhappy teenager, for all sorts of reasons. But one of them was simply that I didn't like the country I was forced to live in. The country itself is quite beautiful, and has a lot going for it, but when it's all you know and you've never seen what the alternatives are, you simply can't respect it. But more than this, I was always an outsider when I was in NZ. Everywhere I went people would rub in and accentuate how much I didn't fit it, and I began to learn why NZers are so infamous for the "tall poppy symndrome." I was different, and without a good reason.
However, rather than dealing with this in a mature, responsible way, or simply adapting myself to be more like what others demanded, I effectively put my life on hold. Everything I did in NZ I saw as temporary, and that all my experiences, friendships and relationships there were temporary. Everything good would happen "when I left for Canada/London". I didn't buy nice things (well, except a stereo), I didn't want to put down roots or commit myself to things in NZ, simply because I was so impatient to leave.
But like many malcontents, I knew I didn't like where I was but I needed a catalyst to actually leave. I'd been wanting to leave for 11 years, and I am sure there were multiple opportunities I missed during that time. I had envisaged my catalyst being graduating from university or getting professionally qualified, but life conspired to push the catalyst on me earlier.

When I was 22, I used the "L" word for the first time with some idea of what it meant. (I can't think of an appropriate psuedonym for the lass, so I'll used Starfire's instead.) After a particularly demeaning setback, which affected my work, my living situation, my family situation and my love life (thank G-d I was living with Starfire at the time, otherwise I'd probably have not been able to deal with this - although my family were great. Nothing like being in serious deep shit to appreciate those around you), I commenced a long relationship with L'ilchef, and my emotions definitely ran away with me. Although in hindsight it was quite a destructive relationship, at the time I felt very validated - there was someone I thought the world of who was happy and willing to be close to, intimate with and to love me in spite of all my many flaws, failings and faults. I didn't have many close friendships to neglect, but those that I had, I did neglect, and I even took on a holier-than-thou and disapproving stance to my friends who would go out clubbing, trying to pull random drunk girls and strippers. I honestly felt better than them, and more mature, because I had a meaningful relationship with someone I had fallen for.

Shit I'm waffling again and taking a long time to get to the pointless. Well, nevermind, it's my journal, which means it's my brain flush and I can say things at whatever speed I like. It's not like this is going to be published. Anyway, getting back to it.

She realised we'd reached a point where there was nothing more to be gained from the relationship before I did, and I was caught quite surprised when she ended it. A few weeks before, she had moved down to Palmerston North to study at university. I had tried to address the situation then, offering to cut her loose so she could enjoy uni for all it was worth if she wanted, but she had told me she wanted to stay together and that we'd see each other enough blah-de-blah-de-blah. It was what I wanted to hear at the time, sure, but I hadn't expected her to change her mind so quickly. So, she dumped me and I wasn't happy about it.

That wasn't great, but on it's own I could probably deal with it fine. I had a couple of friends I'd consider good friends, I had a good job. I just needed some time to adjust and to settle my mind into the new state of play, right? We've all been broken hearted, and it sucks at the time, but we all know we'll pull through, give or take some embarassing incidents with rebound flings and self demeaning activities our friends will hassle us endlessly for. The trouble is, that wasn't on it's own. The big screwball was about to hit.

L'ilchef felt bad about dumping me because she knew I still cared for her. "It's like kicking a puppy" was the exact words she used. And although I should have learnt from the nymphomaniac ex that it only ever makes things worse, L'ilchef wanted to have one last shag before we parted ways. And I wasn't in much of a state to say no. (It was the closest I've ever been to crying since my grandfather died. I've never shed a tear since then, including when my Mum got sick, said goodbye, and then passed away. I'm sure a therapist would have a field day with me over my lack of teary-eyed abilities.) But this last up-and-down-bouncey-between-the-sheets had to be special, so it was the uninhibitted, au natural, free as you like it style of shagging. I don't mean it was adventurous, exciting, slightly pervy and deeply kinky, I mean there was no bloody contraception of any kind and my boys decided to let it be known that they could do there job like the best of them.

So the time and space to get over her, adjust and pull through that I needed? Never happened. She was young, alone, in a new city, and pregnant. There was the agonising few weeks/months (hard to remember, I was in such a state) of me consoling, comforting, supporting, and in general keeping myself extremely emotionally invested in what was happening in this girls life. Because she didn't want anyone to know. Anyone. She knew how close I was to my sister, and specifically asked me not to tell her. So I didn't. I didn't tell anyone. Those close friends I mentioned? They'd see me put on a brave, strong, comforting and comic voice to talk to her on the phone, or when I went down to visit, and then see me broken as soon as the receiver went down. And they didn't know why.

There were all sorts of things going through my head, it was hard to sort them all. What was clear is that she had made up her mind to terminate and she didn't want this questioned in any way. What was also clear to me is that this child was going to be a girl, and whilst I was satisfied that an abortion was the right choice (I still am), I knew that since I was the only other person who knew about this pregnancy that I was the only person in a position to give this girl a chance to have any other options considered. But, I was a complete pussy, I cared too much about L'ilchef to even entertain a debate, and so I stuck my head in the sand, never considered another angle but still allowed L'ilchef to act like this was "our" decision rather than hers and hers alone. Again, I do think it was the right decision, BUT it has forever scared the crap out of me for having kids. Here was a point where someone was completely and totally dependant on me. My inaction cemented her abortion, and I never want to have to do anything similar again. I'm simply too scared now of turning my back on a two year old for a few seconds whilst it sticks a fork into a plug socket and being responsible for the consequences. I've already failed and I'm not keen to go another round.

If you are beginning to feel any empathy with me at all at the moment, then keep some tissues and maybe a spare change of pants handy because it actually gets worse. The whole "I was the only one who knew about this" - was a lie. The whole "please don't tell anyone else" - was also a lie. The "close friends didn't know why I was broken" - was also a lie. There was a nice little handful of lies, which were perfectly understandable in their own right (hey, she was going through a rough time too) but they built up a scenario where I felt I was doing the morally right thing. They gave me strength to (seemingly) keep it all together, because it was what I was called on to do. I went through all this alone, and she didn't. She'd started up a relationship with my cousin, who was also my closest friend. She's still milk me for morale support and throw all the insecurities and emotion my way (she was still in another city), but all the good-relationship-stuff, like appreciation and validation was going to him. He knew all about the pregnancy and the abortion, yet pretended to have no idea when I was around. And my other good friend had been recruited by a huge multinational bank and had flown off to London.

In their defense, there wasn't any cheating or real deception going on. L'ilchef and I were officially broken up, the only reason stuff still happened was due to the pregnancy and the chaos & emotions surrounding it. And the two of them did try to tell me about each other I'm sure, I just really didn't want to hear it. And then one day I found out. And I found out that many other people knew about the pregnancy.

I'd never felt so alone. I felt I couldn't trust anyone, that I'd been suffering for months and that those around me had been laughing with mocking amusement. My whole moral compass shifted and my way of looking at the world changed. There wasn't a sense of justice and reward, or that things happen for a reason. I think I grew up, and realised life is just that. Life. It's a bunch of random experiences which we're forced to deal with. If we win, we turn them into things we want to remember, if do don't we get pain and embarassment. And just because you dealt with one thing badly doesn't mean you'll fail on the next one. There's no karmic balance, no sense that some of us are pre-destined for success or failure, or that we all get what we deserve. Just because you're a vegetarian doesn't mean the bull won't charge.

It changed my way of looking at the people around me, and of my life. Firstly, I began to ask why the hell I was still in NZ when I was so unhappy (I was sure I'd have failed my uni exams), and just what the hell was holding me back from announcing what I wanted, what I felt and where I wanted to go. But before this revelation was so clear, I found myself talking to Megamuns, my friend who'd gone to London, and I told him everything. (He had been friends with my cousin too.) When I said what I really needed was to go out drinking with him, he replied, "Well why don't you. Come over here. Crash on the floor for a few days, get yourself set up here." And then I realised there was no answer to that. There was no reason not too. I checked he was serious, and the next day I resigned my job. I told my sister, my father, my aunt & uncle and spent a few weeks selling my car & few possessions, sorting out my passport and drivers licence and on the 22nd of August 1998, I landed in Heathrow and my life began.

1998 was a year of exploration, learning, settling, and crashing on my mates floor. And drinking. A lot of drinking. Brits, Kiwis, Aussies, everyone forced beer in large quantities on me, and small cultural differences began to throw me. But I embraced the changes and tried to throw myself into London life. After a week and a bit I moved into a room in a basement flat near Euston Station with a single-mother family. It was quite wierd, as she didn't have a phone, and it was definitely like having a hotel room in someone elses flat. So I still felt transient and unsettled. I knew it was time to move out when her four year old son drew a picture of his family at kindergarden and it included me. I started working a Dairycrest, and while interviewing there I suddenly remembered my namesake penfriend I had written to when I was 10-11. I was in the same town, and just decided to look them up out of the blue, in case they were still there. It's hard to believe that I recognised the address after 12 years, and it was harder to believe that they still lived there. And thus I quickly became an extended member of the fantastic family of my fathers cousin, and I continue to spend religious festivals with them and have close friendships with 2 of the 3 sons, (the other lives in Israel now) their wives and children. 1998 was also the years of Dragons on the Hill, or geek club. It's a roleplaying club mostly made up of young guys doing their OE in London for a few years. You go to the pub, drink, play silly games and make friends. Here I made some of the most important friends for the next 10 years.

1999 will probably have to be remembered for my CIMA study. I had intended to finish my university degree, but I was advised (and sponsored) to go straight to CIMA and get professionally qualified. Due to some misinformation, I applied but then found out I had no exemptions, so I had to sit 16 papers rather than the 6-8 I had expected. But hey, work was paying for it, so I gave up my entire weekends to go to college. And college was EASY. The first 4 papers were the equivalent of 7th form/A Levels. I could do it with my hands tied behind my back. But more importantly, I was (somehow) one of the cool guys in my classes. it was school as you always wanted it to be, including the flirting with the cute blonde in the class, and often helping her with her work. But I had committed myself to a year off women. I'd (maturely) decided that I had to experience London for London, not for any relationship I was in. I didn't want to get involved, get heartbroken, and given up on London for all the wrong reasons. And I stuck to it, even though I did have a young lass waiting until that date rolled over. Very strange relationship, not just because she was an ex of one of my cousins and the sister in law of another, but because she was Jewish. I'd never dated a Jewish girl before. This is important due to the whole transient and temporary nature of my life till now. My safety line in any relationship could easily be "it can't be forever, she's not Jewish." I've never really cared about religion in a partner, or a friend, but it was a convenient safety line, without having to draw a flaw in the girl. "it can't be forever, she's a slow talker." (For more examples, watch any episode of Seinfeld.) So this was important because even though we were very disimilar and wanted vastly different things (we still had lots of fun, and she's a very sexy and talented lass) I guess I went into that relationship inhibition free. However, the most important thing about 1999 was that the only person I really missed from NZ, my beloved sister Starfire, came out to live in London too. Bringing with her a still-devoted ex, and a longing for her-husband-to-be who'd gone to Canada and a huge suitcase of emotional baggage, that, let's face it, made me feel like all of my issues were dealt with and behind me. I also met a lot of my aunts, uncles and cousins, and travelled around the UK a lot.
I spent the year living in Surbiton, in a settled flat with a wonderful lass (shame I've lost contact with her!), built up a computer and really started feeling like I had a home. The dawn of the millenium was spent in a tuxedo having a classy cheese fondue party in White City by the BBC. Not quite the international Date Line that I had envisaged. There were trips to France, Amsterdam and Bruges thrown in there as well. I also bought a car and resumed driving.
And at some point this year I decide to start keeping kosher.

2000 was when I moved to North London. Starfire and I got a flat in Childs Hill (Golders Green) and Gryphon came to live with us. They got engaged. I left Dairycrest to take a media job in North London, and joined Video Collection International. I finished the last papers of CIMA at the end of the year. I went for a two week trip to Israel where I had a camel safari in the desert, and I learnt to scuba dive. I loved it a continued to train. 2000 brought with it an interesting development on the women front too. I met a girl in my CIMA class who rendered me speechless, weak at the knees, a bubbling mass of hormones and all the rest of it. This was before I had spoken with her. It must have been based purely on looks, and she was good looking, but I'd never had that immediate "SCHWINGG" before. And I was curious as anything as to what she had that no one else did. Luckily for me she was friendly and conversational and we struck up a friendship, because I don't think I could have strung any words together. I wound up joining her diving club - insane bunch of people they were - and diving on a few wrecks in Cornwall. Nothing ever happened - I never tried to - but I still can't work out what it was about her. There were a lot of attractive qualities, but no idea why I was so taken with her.
The other important thing is that the surplus Australian came back from travelling, and he and I became very close friends. Most of my vitally important friendships - Fellowmartian, the Reality Renegade, Missing Matt, the Serial Internet Dater, were cemented in this year.
We moved flats again, but only to about a block away. I started throwing Halloween Parties. I also tried being more religious, including sanctifying Friday nights, but after a few months decided this felt artificial and forced and I abandonned it.

2001 - Lots happened. I qualified, was promoted to the music industry, we moved again, to Finchley Central this time, and the reality renegade and I went on a trip to Spain, Gibraltar and Morocco, but 2001 will be remembered for two things. The first is Jitsu, the second is Petra.
I joined the UCL Jitsu club, and it fast became a main social focus (replacing my CIMA course, I guess). I became fit and healthy, and not the least bit violent. I met some great people and started to reclaim my lost university years.
When I got promoted, I got given a car allowance. I used this to finance the purchase of a 1991 Porche Carrerra Fully Convertible Turbo 911, coloured Pearl white with Black leather interior. She was the love of my life (well until I met the love of my life much later). Petra was vitally important to me, because she was a "tier of success". I'd wanted to be financially comfortable enough to have a wildly innappropriate sports car, a vehicle that was primarily to be looked at and adored rather than having a utily purpose. And she was soooo much fun. My ego and my confidence got a huge boost, and even though I tended to hide the fact I owned a sports car from females, there was a lot more interest in me.

2002 - I started this year travelling to the US to visit a friend, and saw LA, Las Vegas and had my passports stolen. To this day I haven't replaced the NZ one. But before I left I commenced a very big relationship with Goth Modelchick, which included us moving in together up in Whetstone. Goth Modelchick was/is the archetypical bad girl, extremely sexual but with bag loads of issues, hang ups, problems and unresolved past. I was very attracted to her (I hadn't been in to piercings and tattoos much before her) anyway, but I think my primary desire in this relationship was to sort out my own phobias about women. I figured if I could make it work with her, I could make it work with anyone. And the attention, flattery and simple neediness of her was very addicting. It worked for a few months. We even got pet rats. But 2002 was my first year at Glastonbury, and the onset of my Glastonbury curse. She cheated on me with another guy at Glasto, so I came home early and alone (and missed Roger Waters, dammit!!!). That became a very rough break up, as she continued to cause trouble in an effort to retain some control and influence in my life - there were arguments over the rats which she abandonned at the flat, and her engaging lawyers to try to get money from me which I'd alread paid her. Not very nice at all.
But hey, by the end of the year I was dating a very young lass from Jitsu who I was really enamoured with. The Peoples Front of Judea was just like me - we had the same interests, the same tastes in movies and comedy and shows and really liked one anothers company. We would have been great friends if the whole sex, relationship, romance and break up hadn't got in the way.

2003 - You can guess what happened on the woman front - Glastonbury came round again and I got dumped. Surplus Australian and I decided to finally get on the housing ladder, so we bought ourselves a 3 bedroom flat in East Finchley. Starfire and Gryphon left to head back to NZ. I sold Petra and went back to being carless. (Which probably caused the break up). And I shattered my arm in an accident at Jitsu which left me in a cast for 9 weeks.
HazMatt got married which included a very posh stag weekend at Kentchurch Manor. However, my arm was still in the bloody cast, so no archery, and very difficult paintballing and quad biking activities!


2004 - With apologies for all the important things I'm leaving out, but 2004 really distinguishes itself in the realm of internet gaming. There was a lot of socialising with a Jewish group of friends, some more Jitsu, a trip to the US for Missing Matts wedding and Woolworths and BBC Worldwide made a joint venture which changed everything about work and made me want to leave, but I think a large chunk of this year got eaten up by me playing Star Wars Galaxies. There were weddings and travel involved too, but I do have to mention the MMORPGs. I gave up the roleplaying in 2003 (I'd given up the club much earlier), so MMORPGs remain my only connection to the nerdy geek I once was.
I didn't have a girlfriend for Glastonbury this year, so no dumping!

2005 - Very important year. I headed back to New Zealand for Starfire and Gryphons wedding, for the first time since I left. I was really nervous and scared. I had decided to take along a young lady to make things a bit easier and give me an excuse for travelling and not being with the family, but I didn't have one in my life. So I brought a friend from jitsu who was travelling through Australia - she left early. I met my little brother. Not for the first time, obviously, but for the first time as a person in his own right. We hadn't been close, due to age differences and family history, but I got to spend time getting to know him and finding out what we had in common. My relationship with my father took on a drastically different direction, as I distinctly got the impression he was no longer ashamed of me. And the wedding itself was a big deal. I saw my grandmother, whom I'd never expected to see again, but unfortunately she was not firing on all cylinders, and I got a bit of an appreciation for the rapid degeneration of her mental state that my family had to endure. I tried to make contact with some old friends from NZ while I was there, without success. Although I did learn that one had moved to London. And now that I'd seen several other countries, when I looked around NZ I got to appreciate some of the wonder and beauty of the place. Oh, and I got some great diving in there too. This time when I left I felt like I was leaving something behind.
When I returned I contacted the friend who'd moved to London, and rather than socially connecting up, he recruited me to come and work for the company he'd help set up. It sounded great, and I joined, but it was a huge mistake. Wrong industry, work conflicts with friends, no job satisfaction.
This was the year I met Glastonbury Girlfriend. At Glastonbury, obviously. And despite confusing a rocky starts and being torn between two women (go me!), she soon established herself as the definitive love of my life. I still think she's fantastic, and all affections and emotions I'd ever felt or pondered about paled in comparison to what I felt for her. I was, and remain, well and truly smitten.
I also gave up on being without a car and bought another 2 seater sports car. But it was just an MR2, designed to be run into the ground.

2006 - I changed jobs and went back to something that made me happy. Broke up and Got back together with Glastonbury Girlfriend. Attended a wedding at St James Palace. Went for a holiday to Israel, which got interrupted by the death of my Grandmother. I had a harrowing emergency journey (40 hours) to get there late, and to be searched by customs. Still this trip included some breakthrough moments with my father and more quality time with my sister and brother.
I travelled a lot for work around Europe, so I was able to take Glastonbury Girlfriend to Dusseldorf and Poland with me. There was no Glastonbury. No festival, that is, the town was still there. I know because we went to it, on a return from a romantic break to Devon.
It becomes apparent that Surplus Australian disapproves of, and plain doesn't like, Glastonbury Girlfriend, but it is never apparent quite why.

2007 - Moved in with Glastonbury Girlfriend, and made redundant from Corbis a week later! Spent about 3 months looking for work. This was over summer, and I am filled with such regret. I had enough money that work wasn't urgent but rather than appreciating a holiday at a great time, I diligently searched for work, attended interviews, updated my CV and generally kept doing unpleasant work-oriented things rather than accepting this blessing for what it was worth. Then when I did find a job, they wanted me to start immediately.
We had a enjoyable and educational (although not overly relaxing) holiday to The Gambia.
I took the car off the road and started sharing a car with Glastonbury Girlfriend.
Problems between Surplus Australian and Glastonbury girlfriend become much more pronounced, and cause a lot more angst and stress.
Glastonbury this year involves me integrating with Glastonbury Girlfriend's crowd. Our usual spot is now covered with merchants. It's really wet and muddy and quite a hard going slog of a festival.

2008 - Not over yet, obviously. On the whole it's been a quiet year. I've been well settled with the house, and attempts to sell my flat and buy a new house with Glastobury Girlfriend have been unfruitful due to the housing market. I've been made redundant again, we've gone for a holiday to Barbados, and the Reality Renegade's wedding in Sweden. I've booked tickets fro us both to head to NZ at the beginning of next year. It's been a bit of a lazy year, with GG worried I'm becoming unfit and putting on the pounds. It's also not been a particularly observant year, with very little involvement in the religious community at all.

So, 10 years. I've gone from having one friend and one suitcase to having a large family, a good group of friends (who I don't see enough of) a flat, a house full of stuff, a professional qualification, a job (until the end of the year, anyway), and a wonderful and exciting relationship. Still no dogs though. :-( But the bottom line is that I'm a happy man. I wouldn't say that Everything good would happen once I moved to London, but certainly a lot of good has.