ROADTRIP: We’re going to Bonnie Doon

I must flee … to my (almost) Mother in law’s purple Micra so Matt and I can adventure to a pokey little town called Lowestoft for the Easter long weekend.

Anyone who lives in London knows to stay in London during any kind of publicly announced ‘work free time’ isn’t the done thing. So we are packing up and shipping out (okay it’s a 3 hour, 4 hour tops road trip) and heading to the seaside. We do love our road trips because there is always too many sweets … which undoubtedly results in far too much of this behaviour.


Last night, Matt asked if I was going to go for a swim in the ocean when we got there. I think this was as much an answer he needed.

Sun sun sun!

Also since we aren’t jet-setting to somewhere romantic like France and it’s not Matt’s birthday I have no interest in hair removal.

No shave November went on longer than intended

Did I mention when you search ‘things to do in Lowestoft’ very little comes up? Also when you put the town into Trip Advisor there isn’t even a list of top attractions. Seriously, take a look here. God we are going to have such a good time.

Scones and cider are first on the agenda, me thinks.

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Visting the dream because I’m not adult enough to live it yet.

So I thought I might update you all about THAT trip to the London – Google HQ because I totally forgot I even owned a blog after I had published the article.

In short the Google office is an adult’s playground. Think free food on every corner, whiteboard walls, your own barista course, Winston Churchill’s very own bath tub in reception, rooms full of instruments, an actual London double-decker bus complete with its own meeting room facilities and the cherry on the cake … a plaque in the women’s bathroom that confirms David Hasslehoff visited the very same offices you are currently in.

Pretty much you dream it Google has it – but like, the better version of it.

The events that took place didn’t involve the foozeball table scenario I had playing out in my mind but it did involve an in-depth tour of the office which was probably better than what I envisioned anyway. No joke, there was food EV.ER.Y.WHERE

Unfortunately all my Google photos are on my old broken phone so I don’t have much to show you. I know, I can hear you scoff as if I made the whole thing up but I didn’t, I promise. To prove the awesomeness of Google HQ I managed to salvage this kick ass picture of me in a row-boat.

Row row row your boat - and don't get out until Google give you a job!!

Row row row your boat – and don’t get out until Google give you a job!!

Google HQ

So this afternoon I am off to Google HQ in Victoria and I am super excited. Not because the meeting will be long and arduous but because I’ve only heard good things about the Google offices.

In my mind I have run through how the afternoon will pan out and it consists of a few work related comments being tossed around the foozeball table accompanied by some ‘brewskis’. My boss and I will wager a bet that if we win (best two out of three of course) we will get a cheap deal and if we lose we pay full price. We then go on to win in a heated underdog style game where spinning is strictly forbidden and we achieved our purpose of visiting Google + had a wicked afternoon.

Judging by the following images you can understand why my mind has concocted such events;

Google Milan
Google Milan

Google New York
Google New York

Google Tel Aviv
Google Tel Aviv

and finally … Google London
Google London


I mean, it that a fucking orange tree in Google Tel Aviv? You get the point – I’ll try to nab some sneaky pics and report back.

I’m just going to come out an say it …

I love Miley Cyrus.

I’m not even joking. You can sit there for a minute and contemplate whether you want to still be friends with me or continue to frequent my blog but quite frankly if you can get down with my miley lovin’ then I’m not entirely sure I wanna be friends with you either.

But why you ask? This is why … Miley doesn’t give a fuck. She’s the humanised honeybadger. She’s all teeth, cropped hair, Pilates, drugs and gyrating with strangers and it’s legit. Okay, so maybe she had a little help from her PR team but whatever. Miley is all about doing the things I wanna do.

 
 

I wanna sing, twerk with teddy bears on tv and get paid for it. I wanna do recreational drugs with Snoop dogg and wear bad ass Moschino belts and sip on my ice tea in California and have a supportive fiance who has his head screwed on but keeps letting me do my thang anyway (okay I may already have that last one.)

My point is, Miley is literally living everyone’s ‘dream’ in one way or an other. She isn’t sitting behind a desk job working 9-5 to live up to the white picket fence and 2.5 kids dream (one-up-one-down, occasionally doing Charlie ideal if you live in London) or saying ‘Man, I should really get to bed before 9pm so I can wake up at 5am for gym.’

She is spending all her hard-earned ‘hannah montanna’ bills on making music she likes, flying around the world and staying up late with her bros. Miley isn’t working for the man because Miley IS the man – BOOM.

I understand we aren’t all as financially secure as Miley, but I feel like if she were like the rest of us she’d be working in a cafe on the beach waitressing her little ass off so she could ‘pop molly’ and not give a fuck. I don’t know, maybe I am being a little presumptive.

End of the day, work what you got Miley because I got your back.

Grrrr