Twentysomething.

I know, I know, I haven’t written for ages, you know how it is…

Well, actually, you won’t will you, if I haven’t blogged… time to update you all.

Tomorrow is my last day working my job. I have worked there for the past 7 and a half months roughly, and it feels a little strange to be saying goodbye to everybody so soon. It really has been one of the nicest working environments I’ve been part of so far. Everyone is so lovely, and the work was pretty easy, and I’ve had a lot of fun, but it’s time for me to move on. 

Speaking of moving on, it’s all confirmed. I am moving to East Sussex to live with my gorgeous boyfriend and his family, at some point towards the end of February, once the Burlesque show is over. I am excited, and nervous, and all other aspects of the spectrum in between, but more optomistic than anything. I am applying for several jobs a day, and really hoping I’ll hear something back. The market is only slightly better up there than here right now, but things will pick up soon, and at least I will be closer to bigger cities with more opportunities rather than stuck on an island with an expensive stretch of water separating us.

So, as of tomorrow evening when I am unemployed, I am going straight to a Rockabilly gig on the mainland with a lovely friend of mine, who I am also organising the burlesque show with. After that I will be putting all my efforts into being a full time promoter, ticket seller and artiste, perfecting my act before the big day. My birthday is in twelve days, and I’m having a meal at an awesome Mexican restaraunt with my family and close friends. Nothing big or fancy, just all the people I care about most that I want to see before I leave.

Another piece of news is that I went for the pre med for my Cystoscopy a few days ago, and everything is finally moving. Considering my initial appointment was in November it’s certainly taken its time coming through, but in the next few weeks I will be having my op. I wasn’t expecting it, but I’m having a general anaesthetic with it, so I’ve asked my boyfriend to look after me when it happens. The last time I was knocked out I was 11, having a tooth out, and it scared the bejesus out of me, and it hurt. I know it’s a bit wimpy but I just want him to be there!! I figure you need someone that you know will look after you, and makes you feel safe, and I certainly know that’s him. I am pretty anxious about it, but in a way, being put out means that if it were to be uncomfortable, I won’t know about it, and I will have a lovely 24hr recovery period with the boy I love, watching movies and eating junk food. There are some perks!

After that it’s full steam ahead with the show, with the move, and with my life.

Stay tuned for more updates!

Viva 2012!! Viva la revolution!!

N x