The Noonit 3
Without Prejudice
My birthday is the 17th of September. I have noticed that on Facebook I say the same thing every year.
" Best Birthday, Ever "
I am at the venerable age where I can say.this without lying.
30 was shocking. They say be careful a few months after and a few months before a person who is reaching a Milestone Birthday.
At 30 I was on a British Airways flight with my Mother In Law to the U.K. At about 5 that night/ day she said.
" Oh, that's right it's your birthday, Happy Birthday "
I just gazed at her not saying a word. I didn't want to be 30 and I had seriously hoping to just wipe the whole day from my mind.
A certain phrase had been going around and around in my head for months.
" Who am I and what do I want ?"
We were delayed by fog coming in to Heathrow, flown to Glasgow, stayed on the ground for two hours, sweltering in our velour track suits, Gwen, my Mother In Laws, burgundy and mine navy. I even had short ugg boots on that a lady in England insisted on buying off me.
Gwen and I were dressed for Winter and I have no idea why we thought this was sensible when the month was September, the first month of Autumn. We were there for six weeks and it went from " bloody hot" to hot to mild and fair. It was never Winter, not once.
When we walked around London I took my shoes off, earning more than a few glances and a couple of open sneers. I didn't give a shit. I was hot and my feet were swollen to double their size. When we first entered our hotel room in Paddington our feet felt like we were walking on tennis balls. We had been in the air for 28 hours.
I, who had probably suggested the Winter wardrobe, then had another brilliant idea. Against Gwens protestations to the contrary I wanted English Fish and Chips. Gwen was happy with her dry bickies and vegemite that she had carefully saved from the plane. But not me
I wanted English fish and chips and NOW.
So patient Gwen trailed along behind me in her spongy sneakers, ( kangaroo shoes ) and her swollen feet and I immediately found a fish and chip shop, three doorways from our Hotel. The smell was divine, hot, greasy, vinegary. Just what I had remembered from the four years spent in the U.K., when I was just a girl.
I ordered fish and chips, mushy peas, bread and butter, H.P. Sauce ( brown sauce) and a big pot of tea.
The cafe was jumping with people and hot. There were fryers frying, people chattering, urns steaming with boiling water and I started to feel nauseous.
Nauseous.
I had just ordered a giant meal that had cost me 12 quid. ( $25 AUD ) sensible Gwen had ordered a pot of tea and a glass of water.
The enormous. " Nosh " eventually turned up, a beautiful golden brown, glistening with fat and flakes of salt. A big blob of mushy peas on the side, a full plate of bread and butter ( I suspected, cheap marg ) my requested H.P. Sauce and a large white China pot of tea.
Gwen raised the lid on her China pot and sniffed.
" Irs a tea bag " she muttered, not happy. obviously.
" Arent you going to eat ? "
I stayed silent and swallowed thick saliva that had leaked into my mouth.
I had never in my life felt so weird. In Australia it was the middle of the night ( Gwen had kept her watch on Aussie time. )
I gazed at my meal and literally didn't know whether to eat, shit or die
I could not place a fork to my mouth.
I looked disgustedly at the delicious meal. The batter on the cod was perfect, crisp and golden. I knew the batter would be just the right consistency. That the cod inside would be melt on the tongue textured. The peas, the perfect olive green. Softened overnight with soaking and a teaspoon of bicarbonate.
And I could not eat one thing. Not even a crispy morsel.
" What's wrong" Gwen said.
I couldn't even speak, just bolted for the door.
I berated myself for " showing off " .
Because I had been to the U.K., before, I had allowed ego and selfishness to enter into my puffed up little body. I wanted to show Gwen my superiority in all things British. And she had trumped me by doing nothing. She was sensible, I was a twit and it would get worse, far worse, from then on ........
My birthday is the 17th of September. I have noticed that on Facebook I say the same thing every year.
" Best Birthday, Ever "
I am at the venerable age where I can say.this without lying.
30 was shocking. They say be careful a few months after and a few months before a person who is reaching a Milestone Birthday.
At 30 I was on a British Airways flight with my Mother In Law to the U.K. At about 5 that night/ day she said.
" Oh, that's right it's your birthday, Happy Birthday "
I just gazed at her not saying a word. I didn't want to be 30 and I had seriously hoping to just wipe the whole day from my mind.
A certain phrase had been going around and around in my head for months.
" Who am I and what do I want ?"
We were delayed by fog coming in to Heathrow, flown to Glasgow, stayed on the ground for two hours, sweltering in our velour track suits, Gwen, my Mother In Laws, burgundy and mine navy. I even had short ugg boots on that a lady in England insisted on buying off me.
Gwen and I were dressed for Winter and I have no idea why we thought this was sensible when the month was September, the first month of Autumn. We were there for six weeks and it went from " bloody hot" to hot to mild and fair. It was never Winter, not once.
When we walked around London I took my shoes off, earning more than a few glances and a couple of open sneers. I didn't give a shit. I was hot and my feet were swollen to double their size. When we first entered our hotel room in Paddington our feet felt like we were walking on tennis balls. We had been in the air for 28 hours.
I, who had probably suggested the Winter wardrobe, then had another brilliant idea. Against Gwens protestations to the contrary I wanted English Fish and Chips. Gwen was happy with her dry bickies and vegemite that she had carefully saved from the plane. But not me
I wanted English fish and chips and NOW.
So patient Gwen trailed along behind me in her spongy sneakers, ( kangaroo shoes ) and her swollen feet and I immediately found a fish and chip shop, three doorways from our Hotel. The smell was divine, hot, greasy, vinegary. Just what I had remembered from the four years spent in the U.K., when I was just a girl.
I ordered fish and chips, mushy peas, bread and butter, H.P. Sauce ( brown sauce) and a big pot of tea.
The cafe was jumping with people and hot. There were fryers frying, people chattering, urns steaming with boiling water and I started to feel nauseous.
Nauseous.
I had just ordered a giant meal that had cost me 12 quid. ( $25 AUD ) sensible Gwen had ordered a pot of tea and a glass of water.
The enormous. " Nosh " eventually turned up, a beautiful golden brown, glistening with fat and flakes of salt. A big blob of mushy peas on the side, a full plate of bread and butter ( I suspected, cheap marg ) my requested H.P. Sauce and a large white China pot of tea.
Gwen raised the lid on her China pot and sniffed.
" Irs a tea bag " she muttered, not happy. obviously.
" Arent you going to eat ? "
I stayed silent and swallowed thick saliva that had leaked into my mouth.
I had never in my life felt so weird. In Australia it was the middle of the night ( Gwen had kept her watch on Aussie time. )
I gazed at my meal and literally didn't know whether to eat, shit or die
I could not place a fork to my mouth.
I looked disgustedly at the delicious meal. The batter on the cod was perfect, crisp and golden. I knew the batter would be just the right consistency. That the cod inside would be melt on the tongue textured. The peas, the perfect olive green. Softened overnight with soaking and a teaspoon of bicarbonate.
And I could not eat one thing. Not even a crispy morsel.
" What's wrong" Gwen said.
I couldn't even speak, just bolted for the door.
I berated myself for " showing off " .
Because I had been to the U.K., before, I had allowed ego and selfishness to enter into my puffed up little body. I wanted to show Gwen my superiority in all things British. And she had trumped me by doing nothing. She was sensible, I was a twit and it would get worse, far worse, from then on ........
