You will be glad to hear that I am finally coming out of the depths of a cold and was able to get back into my desert social life. One of the highlights of last week was attending my monthly book club. Now before you roll your eyes, pass me off to the realms of middle age and shout Geek! I’ll let you into a little secret. Continue reading “Don’t judge a book club by its cover!”
I am writing this weeks post from the depths of kleenex and Vicks! Perhaps its the constant cold and flu tablet intake, the fever and delirious nights sleep, but whilst feeling hot and cold at the same time, I’ve also been feeling a little home sick. Don’t get me wrong I’m not in a deep depression pining for home, but there are definitely pangs for home or rather the people there.
In the midst of cold induced self pity, I decided to Face Time my mum. It had been a couple of weeks since we spoke “face to face” so I thought I would catch her up on my holiday and all things desert side, but mainly to tell her I was feeling pants and just wanted some mummy time. As we were chatting, she revealed that my little sis was also there so I got two for the price of one and I was already starting to get some clarity from my head cold. Continue reading “A bump in the road”
Something happened last week that shouldn’t have bothered me, but it played on my mind for a few days. Perhaps it’s because I was hormonal, perhaps it was being on the brink of becoming another year older or perhaps on reflection I was overly sensitive. Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason, something gets to you and that’s that.
As the great summer escape comes to an end, I’m finally getting back into socialising with my fellow desert gals. Now the kids are still on summer break, so my mummy friends are still in trying to find a balance of having a good gossip with the ladies after 10 weeks and entertaining the little people. So happily I’ve gone along to parent friendly events, just to get back into the swing of desert life. This was going swimmingly with my close friends but then I hit a brick wall. I tagged along to another day out, where the kids would enjoy an adventure playground and us girls would coffee and natter for the duration. When I accepted the invitation I had no idea this was a mass outing, so was surprised but at the same time delighted, that there was a group of women, all looking forward to a good old-fashioned expat ladies Starbucks session. Continue reading “New people, old attitudes”
Adventures of Jersey Girl is now officially blogging from the motherland. Blogging HQ is now set up in my mum’s conservatory, even though she still smirks when I say I’m going to spend a morning writing whilst she is out and about. I’ve been back on my little island for just over a week now and apart from the rain, I’m loving everything that comes with being back on the Rock. It’s surprising how quickly I jump back into my old life and feels like I’ve never been away. So this is a little self-indulgent post about all the things I love and been up to, my first week back in Jersey. Continue reading “Love island “
Last Friday was a momentous day. One that had been on our minds for months. The debates had ensued about what direction we should go and the anticipation rose over recent weeks as the nerves kicked in. Then, as if out of no where the inevitable happened, the day had finally come, the waiting was over, no more talking around the subject…..we were going home!
We arrived at Kuwait airport, with as much excitement as the Icelandic team on Monday night (like my little topical analogy?!) Checking in with the usual amount of cheek to see if an upgrade was possible, Hubby flashing his gold card like it was Willy Wonker’s golden ticket. Alas on this occasion his charm eluded the check in staff and the plane was full. Once airside all Ramadan restrictions lift, so as we practically ran to Starbucks, my mind was weighing up which delight I should order to satisfy my month long withdrawal. Continue reading “Are we there yet?”
For the last two months this 30 something has been feeling like an 80 something. This is the story of my humiliation and frustration; it’s a tragic tale of losing my dignity and becoming a local “celeb” and just like the soap star falling out of the Chiltern Firehouse, it’s not welcomed fame. From here on out I have become known as that woman who hurt her back!
Let me start at the beginning. Upon our arrival in Kuwait it became apparent that the beach club was a vital part of life. If you want to enjoy the year round weather, a private beach is the only way you can, as no public beaches allow women to be bikini clad. So 6 months after our arrival, we bit the bullet and paid the annual fee (which took us a week to get over) and looked forward to weekends in the sun. Continue reading “Drama Club”
Yesterday was a big day in my Kuwait life; a make or break day; if this went badly then possible departure would be necessary. This is something all expat women have to face at some point upon their arrival in their new country, facing the fear of the unknown and walking boldly over the threshold. Holding their breath with anticipation and saying a small prayer to the gods, as they take a seat in the waiting area, hearts beating. So the leap of faith is taken, no going back, the scissors are out………the hairdresser approaches.
A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life – Coco Chanel
Now I have never been a vain person and growing up was not someone who would spend hours upon hours applying makeup and doing hair. In fact I remember turning up for my first day at dance college, an ethusiastic fresh-faced 20 year old, hair pulled back into a frizzy pony tail (I’m blessed/cursed with curly hair which just went into frizz before I discovered straighteners) and being told that we could no longer come to class without a full face, which must be re-applied throughout the day. So a trip to Covent Garden and more than my student funds could afford I walked out of MAC ready to take on the world. I subsequently went home and relegated my Body Shop pressed powder, which had served me well since I was 15, then came the realisation that there is a whole beauty world out there, waiting to be discovered. And so it began…… Continue reading “Love is in the hair”