When I first moved to Austria I had a lot of time on my hands, and this led to a lot of googling, which led me to the glorious discovery of the menstrual cup.
I can hear some of you saying “ewwwww” right now and clicking firmly off my blog. That’s ok. Society as a whole generally seems to view periods as disgusting things that should be hidden. And while I don’t think that it’s something that should be thrown in people’s faces – talking about your period and buying sanitary products should be normal, not icky.
Unlike what the rest of the world thinks, the Sound of Music is not Austria’s national film – barely anyone has even heard of it, let alone watched it!
To be fair, in Austria, the hills are alive with the sound of music, mostly the accordion, however in spring in the country, the hills come alive with something else entirely… they come alive with the smell of poo.
Renovations are stressful, costly and life-sucking. We (or should I say Thomas) packed a lot of improvements into the two very short months before we moved in. While the outside of the house was basically ready to go, the inside needed a bit of work – new kitchen, new bathroom… and then of course it seemed that every time we looked under something there was something more to do underneath!
Welcome to the weird world of Austrian apartments. In Austria it’s common for an apartment to be rented out completely empty, as was the case with the one we recently moved out of. Now, I know what you’re thinking… you’re thinking: “of course you expect to move into an empty apartment.”
But I bet your concept of an empty apartment is not the same as here. In Australia, it means the place comes with a bathroom, toilet, kitchen, hell, maybe even a laundry sink if you’re really lucky!
The apartment that Thomas originally moved into was brand new and had only the following – toilet, shower/bath and very basic washbasin.
I went into the purchase of my first PAX system from Ikea completely oblivious. I was just so excited to be getting extra space for my clothes, I didn’t think of how much work it would be to put it together.
Call me weird, but I’ve always enjoyed donating blood. I could say that I do it because I want to help people, and that certainly has to be part of it, but I think perhaps it’s mostly to do with the fact that since I was a kid I’ve always watched my dad donate. I have good memories of going into South Melbourne with him and watching him undergo the process, waiting eagerly to share his milkshake and sugar lollies afterwards.
Or maybe I’ve always just been a sucker for free food.