The (Not-So) Nearest Exit

Wow! Another twenty-something Australian going abroad! How exciting!

Are you reading this sarcastically? Shame on you! I am genuinely excited and you should be too! This is a big deal for me! Hoorah! Okay, that’s enough exclamation marks for one post (I can’t promise there won’t be more). Now, let’s get serious for a minute.

Have you ever felt the overwhelming need to leave? I’m not talking about simply exiting the room or even going on a holiday. I am talking about is that feeling when you sit down, evaluate the statistics that make up your being, and are suddenly over-whelmed by the feeling that you need to find the nearest exit on your life! Well here was my evaluation:

I am a twenty  eight year old man.

I am a lawyer.

I work out regularly.

I try to eat healthily and I watch my waist line.

I own a small apartment, secured by a very large mortgage.

I go out every Friday and/or Saturday and/or Sunday night, frequenting the same inner city and neighbourhood bars.

I occasionally go out with my friends for brunch or dinner.

I have regular check ups with my GP.

I iron my shirts every Sunday.

I live quite comfortably.

I am responsible.

* * * * *

And I can’t shake the feeling…

“When did I become such an adult?”

Adult. It feels like such a dirty word. And I am not talking about the polite word referring to sexually explicit material. I am talking about the word referring to a person who has reached a level of maturity that he makes regular reasoned, logical decisions and generally lives responsibly. When did I come to do this? How did my life come to this at such a young age? What’s next? Marital commitment? Kids? Applying for private school? Buying an RV?

Ugh…

Such notions terrified me.

And so I ran.

From my humble little home in the city of Perth, Western Australia and I relocated to London, United Kingdom.

And I decided to document the experience.

I am inately aware of the pitfalls of “The Travel Blog”. Let’s face it, you do not want to hear about how wonderful someone else’s holiday is going while you are stuck in your office cubicle, hunched over your computer screen under a flickering fluorescent lights, living for the weekend, counting down five-sevenths of your life. At least that’s how I have always felt about travel blogs. Or anyone who comes back from a holiday and feels the need to regurgetate his or her titillating tales of travelling upon me. Yuck.

Or maybe you’re a better person than I am.

In any event, I assure you that this blog will not be another putridly vacuous exercise in self-indulgence, ala Eat, Pray, Love. At least I don’t intend on it being so. And I certainly don’t have the budget for Julia Roberts, or even Javier Bardem for that matter. Of course we can admit one thing, fellow bloggers: the art of blogging is innately self-indulgent and the quest for internet stardom is always in the back of our mind. There is nothing more depressing than checking my blog statistics to find that the same person from Poughkeepsie, New York is the entire extent of my blogging audience (although I would forever be grateful to that one avid fan!).

"Waiter, can I PLEASE have another glass of Moet? Sigh. Life is so hard..." (Source: http://guardian.co.uk)

However, we should each aim to be creative and entertain, which should hopefully be a far less conceited exercise than merely documenting our decision to visit all the beautiful places in the world starting with “I”, all for the sake of your own selfish enjoyment.

I also do not intend on using gimmickry to try and distract you from realising this is blog is merely a poor imitation of Lonely Planet. In actuality, this is not really a Travel Blog per se, but rather a Relocation Blog.

“What? In no more than two sentences he managed to break his promise about gimmickry and used semantics to try and fool us!”

Don’t scoff. I’m being bloody serious! Two weeks ago, I made my move. I bought a one way ticket and boarded a plane to London. I’m now living in a flat in Shoreditch, I have a new bank account and mobile phone number and I am looking for work. I am, for all intents and purposes, an immigrant.

This blog will be an account of my trials and tribulations of my new life as an immigrant, and any musings I have in the meantime. I hope we enjoy the ride.

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4 thoughts on “The (Not-So) Nearest Exit

  1. I feel the constant need to leave. Constant. You know.

    I realized while reading this that you know so much about me and I know very little about you. I am glad to see that 20 something adults from Australia are just as fucked up as 20 something adults from the US. First world problems? I think so.

    • Yes, the beauty of the Creepy blog is complete and utter anonimity. The downfall is that it is completely restrictive in what I write about. I consciously make it about the story and avoid any temptation to make it about me. If you knew me better, then you would know that it is amazing that I lasted this long in avoiding setting up an entire blog so I can write about myself and my pathetic first world problems. They’re not even problems really. Just perceptions. Ugh, this is getting too deep.
      Wee.
      Poop.
      Fart.
      That’s better.
      Well, hopefully I will post a bit more often and I won’t suddenly turn my Creep readers off.

      • I know exactly how you feel. I had a blog prior to this one and it was very restrictive. That’s the problem with anything topical. I’m glad to see you have made two separate ones. I’m sure you won’t turn anybody off.

        Hic-cup.

        I don’t think that was the same.

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