the headache to Leeds

I'm currently growing a lovely headache by being a true Chinese and using the free Wi-fi on the train from London to Leeds. I've taken my laptop with me, and it just seems a shame (or more likely a waste and an affront to my Asian senses) not to capitalise on the freebie so I can send emails and download tracks. I suppose however that any cost benefit on this trip will be neutralised in the outrageous cost of the ticket and the panadol tablets that I will need to consume later.

I finished with the NHS Counter Fraud Service last week. I was a little sad as I felt that I had started to make inroads - of getting to know people and of starting to get good at my job. My final task was to release the report I had been working on for the past 5 months - it will be launched as a national document for best practice, and I'm pretty proud of the work that I've done. The task before that was slightly less happy - I did my final assessment of a hospital's counter fraud arrangements, and awarded a provisional fail mark.

Happy days indeed.

I'm sure many of you are aware that I've booked my round-the-world ticket from London to North America and Australia. I'll be seeing my sister who has just moved to Toronto, and then will be spending a couple of days in the Bay Area of San Francisco. I'm a bit of an old hand now at the Caltrain - it's a great journey down the Silicon Valley heading past famous places such as Menlo Park where Thomas Edison lived. From there I'll fly out from San Jose to Denver where I'll be heading to a family reunion. From there we'll be driving through Utah and then heading back to LA for my flight home back to Australia.

I would hereby like to announce that my headache is in a holding pattern and heasn't decided whether to emerge or not... And that the man sitting opposite me (despite me requesting a non-table seat) is chewing gum in a most annoying fashion.

I can't concentrate any more, except to say that a party that David held a couple of weeks ago, I managed to make an entire room of PhD physicists and PhD art historians laugh, spilt red wine on my only nice polo top, and drunkenly agreed to read a book about art so that I would feel superior to everyone in the galleries I visited with my knowledge on art. Though, I must say that I am currently a bit bored of seeing countless depictions of the last supper, the resurrection of Christ and the birth of Christ.

If anyone can show me a good collection of finger paintings, then I am sold.

the first year of something good

I made it.

One year ago today, I arrived in London with my bags and a piece of paper with an address. All I remember are the anxieties about being in a new city being completely alone, having to rely solely on my wits and my powers of being completely anal and anal retentive at the same time.

This time one year ago I was walking back to my first flatmate's home in the Isle of Dogs near Crossharbour, jet-lagged out of my mind, wanting sleep, worrying about finding a job and a new apartment.

I'll be the first to admit that it was one of the most stressful things I've ever done in my life, but here I am, sitting in my flat in Woolwich looking at the sunset setting over the Thames. I've cooked and eaten dinner (stir-fried chicken on a bed of salad - yes - the rabbit eats) and I'm feeling relaxed yet rather tired. My sinuses are rather clogged up, and I'm debating whether I have a cold or just a severe bout of hayfever. The Erica Yurken from "Hating Alison Ashley" lives on inside me.

So what have I achieved? Allowing myself to be wildly self-indulgent, it's been a year of some good trips - Barcelona with Di and Matt, trips with Frances through Salzburg and England, Cardiff with Vicki, Paris with my dad and sister, Budapest with Alex and Dave, and of course, branching out on my two little feet with trips to Dublin and Madrid. Vicki, Nick and Viviane, thanks for stopping by on my brown faux-suede couch.

Most of all, I'm proud that I've managed to resurrect a good career post-Telstra. Within a year, I've done a 360 on my career, moving from the cushy private sector into being a full blown civil servant. The civil service of course has its one perk, I tend to get questioned less by the UK BORDER authorities when I tell them I work for the Ministry of Justice or the NHS Counter Fraud Service. I've managed to work my way up from being a lowly researcher to a position where I now make decisions that impact on the healthcare that is provided in England and Wales. Having said that, I have had some fun at Justice visiting prisons and the like, investigating cases of misconduct and impropriety at the Health Professions Council and assessing whether a hospital's counter fraud arrangements are passing or failing Secretary of State directions. It's all part of the service.

Of course, my blog notes often present a rosy picture. There are the days when I miss being home, being in Melbourne with my friends and my family. It's bloody hard work trying to break into new friendship groups, having to take contract work with the constant stress of not wanting to be sick lest I miss a day of paid work, missing the last train home at midnight and having to take the horrendous night bus home, paying exorbitant rent and travel costs and the rather shitty food.

But miseries aside, it's been a good year. I have, after all, managed to find myself a flat with a proper shower.