Thursday 13 August 2015

This Is Ours Now



XXII




Once again, I woke up at 3 am because of this terrible, supposedly stress-related rash. I had scratched myself whilst being asleep so I decided to soothe my skin with some aloe vera cream. Having dragged my sleepy self to the bathroom, I stared at the mirror, all moody and blurry-eyed, and opened my thick turtleneck jumper to apply the cream. What was that? Was I still dreaming? No, it was definitely there and even though I had never seen one before, I recognised it immediately for what it was: a creepy-crawling, turd-brown and horrid bed bug, sneakily trying to escape from its finished work on my sore cleavage. After I had overcome my initial shock, I hurried to brush off the vermin. Panic-stricken and horrified, I screamed in a high-pitched voice I didn’t even know I possessed, threw my jumper onto the floor on top of the bug and trampled on it like an elephant. When Dan came into the bathroom, pissed off for having been woken up, I looked up at him in horror. I lifted an edge of my jumper to show him the bug corpse. However, there was no brown splotch, no sign of a squashed vermin – the bastard had successfully escaped my stampede. 

This was the last night in our first London flat.


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When it comes to finding a place to live in this city you will soon find that people have similar experiences to the one described above. There is never a shortage of exotic pets such as mice, bugs and flies which will make your life not happier but definitely more exciting. And it's not only those you have to share a house/flat with - it's people from all over the world. We have been living with Italians, English, Spanish, Belgians, Portuguese, Nigerians, South Africans and Mexicans and this only over a period of two years. When you get on with your housemates you will find yourself celebrating pre-Christmas with Roast Turkey, playing charades or having BBQs and house parties in summer. Alternatively, you could be going on a holiday to Lisbon together. I find it absolutely fascinating how people from such different backgrounds with completely dissimilar views of life can still hang out with each other, become friends and manage to live in a very confined space.

As nice as this experience has been and as much as I have loved being reminded of my student life, I am also extremely happy that this period is now coming to an end. Dan and I are finally daring it: we are going to move from a room that is roughly 13 square metres to our own 1-bedroom flat with a massive lounge. Austrians would probably not understand what kind of a big deal this is. Just to give you an idea, rents in London are so high you are forced to share a flat with other people. That is, if you don't have an extremely well-paid job or aren’t a professional DINK couple (double-income-no-kids). 

Even so, it means that you will have to cut back on other expenses and save everywhere you can. It is painful considering that you could get a huge uber-modern flat in Vienna's best districts for the money we're going to pay for just one bedroom. But hey - it's the price you pay for living in this great city, and we do live only 30 minutes away from the city centre.

Having dreamed about having my very own place for seven years since having moved out from home I already have a list of things in my head what I want to do with this place - how I want to personalise it and make it feel like our real home. No more coming back to an untidy kitchen with flies circling over unwashed saucepans, no more waking up at 4 am when people are returning from a night out, no more waiting half an hour for the bathroom when you really, really need the toilet. Instead, I'm looking forward to extensive weekend breakfasts, long games nights and dinner parties with friends and, to show that we are not that old and bourgeois, massive house parties where we get absolutely smashed and find the flat in ruins the next day.

I cannot wait for having a place other than my bed to sit down on to read a good book, for building up my personal library, for getting back to band practice and recording sessions. Also, it will be amazing to know where things in the kitchen are stored away. This sounds so mundane and unimportant and I have always laughed about my parents' habits and attitudes. Apparently, I have aged substantially in the last few years and found this is actually vital to lead a comfortable life. Just to put things into perspective, I'm still up for adventures and I loved my flat mates, but somehow I'm just sick of this complete mess around the house which you don't even bother with when you're a student.

Finally, and what cannot be ignored, is the privacy you get in your own place. Visitors won't have to stay in a cold lounge any longer which I've always felt embarrassed about. Jamming won't disturb anyone as quickly, and neither will the fact that we'll be walking around naked at any time of the day. 

O home sweet home - I'm embracing you with all my heart.



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This blog is dedicated to all my former flat mates.

To Mama, Papa and Mike, who had no other choice than putting up with me as a flat mate for 19 long years.
To Alex, my first voluntary flat mate; the tidiest and chattiest of them all.
To Roisin, the most musical and fun flat mate there ever will be.
To Jules, the flat mate with the best bar keeping skills.
To Bernie, the most easy-going flat mate.
To Nieves who provided us weekly with fresh falafel.
To Josue, the chili and coffee lover.
To Bridget: thank you for the wonderful chats.
To Ine whose Charade skills I admire.
To Fabrizio, who made sure the house smelled of fish or chicken and introduced us to the real prosecco.
To Claudia, a flat mate you definitely want to party with!

Special thanks go to Ralf, who accidentally provided me with the title of this blog and who’s kind of lived with us when we had our band. Good old times. Never to be forgotten.

And finally, to Dan, who will now be putting up with my good and bad habits all by himself. 
(At least I don't have to watch the Fails on YouTube any longer.)