Friday, 30 December 2016

I missed a flight, lost loads of money and Merry Christmas


Someone once said money can't buy you happiness. They were probably right. But you know what it can buy you? A new ticket from Sydney to London after you miss your flight home. The world's most expensive mistake. There's nothing quite like throwing one thousand dollars away just days before Christmas. The worst thing? The new plane they popped us on went via Bangkok and Dubai. Talk about going round the fucking houses. I may as well have jumped in an ├╝ber pool and had the pilot swing by a McDonald's drive through for the time it took. Albeit it was my fault and I was 24 hours late - but who the fuck can keep track of the days when they're on holiday?





'You've gotta roll with the punches in life,' a bloke in the airport told me after I explained my predicament. 'While we can't always control what we receive, we can control what we give,' another told me. I very much made my mishap known by every person I came into contact with. A problem shared is a problem halved and all that. 

I thought I'd even managed to pull at one point after moaning to a cute Aussie man waiting to board the same plane. We then bonded over his book, had a little laugh and watched each other's belongings while galloping around duty free like it were the summer of 69 or some shit. Sadly as he then started to ask how I'd managed 'cracking on' with the Aussie ladies my dream of joining the mile high club quickly disappeared. Crack on? The only thing I'm cracking these days is six eggs for my breakfast, mate. Gains.



My final week in this country was spent solely in Sydney staying with a man named Michael. My former personal trainer turned extended family member who moved here earlier this year. A 32-year-old straight bloke with a heart of gold and love of Cocopops who has always been a positive influence in my life.

We didn't particularly do much other than walk about, work out and eat shit - which was everything I'd wanted from this part of the trip to be fair. An empty schedule, clear horizon and space from the hustle and bustle to work some shit out in my mind. Something often easier said than done. 





 I may as well have been back in Manchester for the rest of the week after rather randomly spending the night with the Stone Roses at Sydney Opera House. A bit iconic. Local legends and long time family friends. It felt like home from home surrounded by a barrage of bucket hats, Fred Perry polos and dirty Northern accents. The sudden thunder storm and catching up with friends who now live over here also helped with that feeling of familiarity. Also, you know how every tourist twat and selfie stick wanker snaps a thousand snaps outside the Opera House? There's a reason no one posts pictures from inside. It looks like a bloody school hall on a budget. 

I can't decide what was the bigger anticlimax: stepping foot inside that concert hall or discovering my airport boyfriend was sadly straight? In fact, I tell you what the biggest anticlimax was.... missing that fucking flight. I'm that person that's annoyingly early for absolutely everything in life. I even clawed my way out my mommas vagina prematurely. I'll still be moaning about this one when I'm on my death bed. You've been warned.



Upon my return to London layers were required, shit was cold and nothing much had changed. In my first days back at work I accidentally angered Honey G, watched my content become a talking point on Good Morning Britain and had an argument with some knob on the tube. Then it was up to Manchester for Christmas with the family. Bizarrely my eldest brother (also called Michael) who emigrated to Melbourne years ago (I ain't seen him in a looong time) had briefly returned... and brought along a married couple from Brisbane with him for the holiday. So essentially it was like I was back Down Under. No, they weren't swingers either. I'm aware that does sound a bit dodgy though, doesn't it?

The most memorable moment of Christmas was watching my oldest friend James propose to the love of his life in the Starbucks they had their first date in 13 years ago. Whoever said romance was dead needs to take a fucking look at these two! Beyond adorable it was and I was honoured to have made the guest list for the big moment. Lastly, cheers everyone that got involved in the book sale on my web store yesterday. I'm now sold out and surprisingly still going strong with internetional sales! See you next year. Hopefully. Unless I die of financial ruin before then... did I mention I missed my flight and had to drop a billion on another?