Daily fears from Kate


























 
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Welcome to my blog where fear and phobias rule the day. My own phobias include, clowns, balloons popping, planes, planes crashing, planes filled with clowns crashing, planes filled with clowns holding balloons crashing....you get the general idea. Oh and although I love animals I hate them dressed up in clothes.

Other blogs that are friends of mine
Rachey
My brother David
Erin

Sites I like

It's weird, it's funny, it's sad, it's beautiful, it's my favourite
Found

He's weird; he's funny and another fave
Dave Gorman

Shameless self promotion type Kate Browne into search, cough up $1.65 and read some of my work
Sunday Life & SMH

Good astrology site us Pisces people are believers (when it suits us that is)
Astro

My pub
Kate Brownes Pub

These guys defy description
Dean and Nigel

They are painfully cool and they like Duran Duran to boot
Dandywarhols


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Panphobia
 
Thursday, October 10, 2002  
Homeward Bound

Well since the Plague has decended and now departed I can't believe it's only been a week since I've been in good old Mother England. In so many ways things here are so familiar I feel like I am already back home and then there will be the odd thing that will completely throw me like 11oclock closing in the pubs, people actually wearing union jack t-shirts, driving union jack covered minis and thinking that it actually looks good and the sight of sloane ranger girls in jodhpurs and silk scarves sitting on striped deck chairs in Hyde park right next to wealthy Saudi Women in full veils and head scarves looking all for all the world like black crows. It's moments like that when I realise I'm not in Kansas anymore.



Blackie has made a full recovery and so has Rox. Although the little Marble Arch flat has been a little cramped it has been loads of fun, but it was a real treat to hop on the train to Brighton to visit the lovely Ms Emma Baxter and then the wonderful Lady McGovern otherwise known as Paul. Brighton is a real old fashioned seaside town, quite a gay hub, student area and rather eccentric all round. I loved it. Stayed in Emmas divine little apartment on the first night where I am now convinced she and I are living some sort of parallell universe as she bought her flat the same time I bought mine, decorated it the way I want to decorate mine and seems to own half the things I already have in my bedroom at home as well - spooky. So lovely to catch up with her - amazing that we haven't caught up for over 2 years but whenever we do it's like she just lives around the corner and that it's like the most normal thing in the world.



After Emma's I was off into the hands of the lovely Paul and his boyfriend John. Dined in one of Brighton's poshest and bestest restaurants which astoundingly is totally vegetarian. It's quite the norm here apparently and I almost died from having an entire menu to choose from. Brighton has loads of veggie restaurants, one of which has the most fabulous name of whykikkamoocow, think about it........ We went to another the next day and I took extreme pleasure in ordering bangers and mash off the menu without any guilt. My favourite shop in the lanes had the delightful name of "Pussy". I was well keen to buy something just so I had a bag with Pussy written on it but the thought of converting pounds to $$$$'s was making me feel ill so I restrained myself. After a trip to the Palace Pier and dragging Paul on a roller coaster it was time to leave. Having had quite a few people in my ear over the last week about relocating to the UK I have been starting to convince myself that perhaps I want to come back to the here to live for a while. After I said goodbye to Paul with no idea I will see him next I hopped in a cab feeling a bit emotional and spilled my guts to the taxi driver about my dilemma about whether I should stay or should I go. His question back to me was simply "where is your heart?" My answer without skipping a second was "Sydney" and he said "well there's your answer". Smart advice from the cabbie. On that note I guess I must say that although I am sad that my holidays are coming to an end - I am without a doubt very thrilled to be coming home. See you all soon.

9:11 AM

Friday, October 04, 2002  
The Plague


It all started simply enough, arrived at Blackies in London to be greeted by an old friend Katherine who had flown in from Spain for Blackies 30th on Saturday night. Roxanne arrived from Rome an hour after me and we all had quite a fun first night together downing lots of white wine and dancing about. By this morning Blackie woke up in excrutiating pain and had to go to the doctor first thing. By lunchtime I get a phone call to say that Blackie was in casualty in hospital and in a very bad way. Find myself in a grotty NHS hospital round the corner with Katherine and Rox waiting to see Blackie who has been put in what resembles a dirty cupboard on a kind of padded bench, still not medicated and in agony. Four hours later he is finally admitted, pumped full of morphine and still awaiting surgery.


We sit and sympethise with the poor thing, who is now facing his 30th birthday in hospital and have to watch him cancel all his party guests and get further and further out of it on the drugs. After 5 hours he still hasn't been seen by a doctor and we are all starting to get a bit stroppy with the whole "oh we might operate tonight, or maybe we won't attitude" that has prevailed over the whole visit. Finally Roxanne heads off to meet a friend for dinner and Katherine and I stay holding Blackies hand and trying to reassure him. Finally we are kicked out of the ward at 9.30 at night and head out for some dinner. At dinner we are wondering aloud whether Rox has a key to the flat or my mobile number but figure that she will still be kicking on with her friends. Just as we finish the conversation my mobile starts to ring. It is Paul, our friend who lives in Brighton who is calling to tell me that Roxy is locked out of the flat and isn't feeling very well. I hang up and head off back to the flat when Paul rings back with the fateful words, "I'd better warn you....appparently she has vomited all over the door and the floor outside the mews." Hmmmmm lovely. It turns out that Rox started feeling crap hours ago, didn't have a key to the flat or my mobile number. She staggered up to Edgeware Rd to call Paul (the only person in Britain whose number she could remember) and described herself to him as looking like a "hooker in a phone booth with vomit all over her shoes". Paul then had to put her on hold, call the hospital to get Blackie (who was the only person who had my number) who is now on a drip and in an extremely bad way. Nurses at first refuse to let Paul speak to him but finally relent and wake the poor thing up, make him stagger to the nurses station with his drip stand and give over the phone number. He is also livid as he was meant to go into surgery tonight but said "some fucking transplant patient got in before me".


Meanwhile Katherine and I arrive back to the mews to find a poor ashen faced Rox and quite a bit vomit all over the cobblestones. Since then we have been administering nurofen, valium and have had to go and wash the vomit away using Blackies kettle. Finally we have flopped on the couch, cracked open a bottle of wine and a toblerone and sit wondering who will be next in this scary new version of the London Plague. Who said travel isn't glamorous?

9:08 AM

Wednesday, October 02, 2002  
Random



There are lots of things I love about travelling but I must say that my most favourite thing about it is the complete random situations that you find yourself in that you would never possibly have considered or even imagined doing at home. So far there have been plenty of these on my travels that I dont think should go onto this blog but by means of example lets just take the last week.



Sunday - Florence. Having a burning desire to see inside the Florence Duomo (Catherdral) I discover that it is closed all day to tourists because of people going to Sunday mass, pretty much for locals only. Undeterred, Rox and I decided to impersonate a couple of nice Italian girls, got dressed up and headed off to service with all the monks and old ladies in black. I must admit that I enjoyed the whole thing immensely. After slagging off the Church all my life there I was singing away, crossing myself, kneeling in prayer and shaking hands with the rest of the congregation. I even, I am ashamed to admit, put money in the church plate. I think a couple more services and I could convert. Lucky I missed the Popes blessing of the people down here in Roma otherwise I might have converted on the spot. Guess it must be all those hundreds of years of Irish Catholic blood pumping through my veins. For anyone who is worried about me turning christian I must point out that straight after church we went to a bar, got picked up by a pair of 22 year old Italian boys. One had a good grope of Roxies ass as we tried to leave while mine basically went straight for the pash. After that we headed to a restaurant where we ended up singing Bon Jovi songs in Italian with the waiters and drinking an astonishing amount of red wine that mysteriously never appeared on our bill.



Tuscany
- on Tuesday I had a long conversation with someone about "things I would never do". One of the highest on my list was hitchiking. Too many scary Ivan Milat type scenes pop into my head when I hear those words and I swore no matter how dire the situation I would never, ever do it. However by Thursday evening I was happily hopping into a strangers car to cadge a lift home after being stranded in a small town after the last bus failed to show and having to stand pathetically on the main road with my thumb out. It was suprisingly easy to do and I have to admit that the guy that drove us back didnt have that axe murderer look and even drove us 5 ks out of his way and right to our front door. Mind you before I come accross sounding all tough I actually only hitchiked because I was in the very good, and very protective company in the form of two Israeli boys who have just spent four years in the army driving tanks, shooting machine guns and learning how to induce chemical warfare. As for how I ended with them is another story all together............................

8:17 AM

 
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