A Year Yesterday

Actually, a year four days ago.  But still.

A little over a year ago, I got on a plane and flew nearly 6,000 kilometers to be with the man I love.  It was the single most intelligent and most meaningful thing I've done, the best decision I've ever made.  I still wake up smiling and often catch myself staring at him, trying to figure out how I got so lucky.

There were people who thought what I was doing was insane, that I wasn't prepared for the change or the financial challenge - and people who, though they tried very hard not to say as much, clearly thought there was a good chance the relationship would fail and I would be stuck in England, penniless and alone.  And a year (which simultaneously feels like a century and an eye blink) ago, I decided that on V Day 2012 I would write a big screw you to everyone who thought we wouldn't make it.

But, to be honest, I'm not bitter.  I knew those people where wrong then, I know that they were wrong now, and I'm still happy, so why bother?  The majority of them were just concerned for me, even if their concern showed itself in a way I didn't like.

I met him in August, in October I was in love and by November, so was he.  In February, we officially started our life together... and a year later, we're still going strong.

Finest Pain. Ow.

I'm coming up with post titles by reading random things again. It actually says FINEST PAIN AU CHOCOLAT... and has, as these things often do(n't?) nothing to do with anything.

So...

The London Riots
were stupid. They seem to be over now and there is, of course, a lot of talk about what caused them. They started after Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old father of three, was shot dead by police in Tottenham. I'm not sure if this was a botched arrest or what, but what followed was a candle-light vigil two days later. The participants of that vigil marched toward the Tottenham police station. And after that, the explanation is that it "turned violent" or that "violence erupted".

The vigil makes sense. Yes, by all means, if you think a powerful group of people, especially your own government, has done something wrong, protest. By all means, be imposing, get in their way, show them how many people think what they've done is wrong, are willing to fight for justice - but how the hell does setting people's homes/cars/businesses on fire achieve anything?

And, of course, now there are people blaming the government cuts and unemployment and the rising cost-of-living and poor parenting and anything they can think of other than the little bastards that seized the opportunity to get free shit and light stuff on fire. Yeah. The government is oppressing me and treating me unfairly. Society has turned its back on me. I'm going to go steal some trainers and mug an old lady.

Waitressing
sucks, but it's getting better. I feel like I never know where I'm supposed to be. I keep getting told different things by different people and if I ask a question, a lot of the time, whoever I asked gives me a dirty look then just does what I'm supposed to be doing. Actually, a lot of the time, I literally don't know where I'm supposed to be because I now have three restaurants to work in and all my rota says is when I'm working, not where.

I really like the chefs and the kitchen porter guys. I remember a kind of rivalry between the wait staff and the kitchen staff at the last kitchen I worked in, and I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the wait staff treating us like trash. I try not to do that, to make sure I say please and thank you, regardless of how busy I am, and not to make a huge mess with the dirty dishes.

All whining aside, I'm starting to get the hang of it, I think. Today was pretty ok.

Bad Parenting
annoys me. I have a table of regulars with this kid. The youngest he could possibly be is 8 and that's an over-sized, over-developed (physically) 8. My guess would be that he's 10-11, although, physically, he could be 12-13. But let's, just to give him the benefit of the doubt, say he's 8. I've served his family three times now. He has eaten only pork (I mean only) on all three occasions. One time, he got paid to finish his "meal". He's rude and needs to be the centre of attention - but he's 8, so I guess we can make allowances - except, I've seen him punch his grandmother in the back twice (as in on two occasions, two punches per time), once because he ignored being asked for his order and she pointed out that this was rude and once, I think, just for fun - although he asked for money after this, so maybe for money? And his mother sat there and said nothing, pretended not to see. His grandfather sat there and said nothing. His older brother shot me an apologetic look, as if to say, Yeah, I know, but what can you do. I can't even imagine what would have happened if I had behaved this way - and I won't say at his age. I mean, at all. Ever. Well, yes I can. If I had been two and hit my grandmother, I would be sent to my room. If no room was available, to the car (for years, I didn't realize that my parents actually were stood near by, watching said car) and I would have stayed there until I was ready to apologise. Violence begets violence, I guess, because now I really want to punch this kid in his face.

Someone
is having a BBQ. I so want it.

IRN BRU - Feel Phenomenal

Mmmm Irn Bru.
Ok, Irn Bru has absolutely nothing to do with this post, except that mi novio found my bottle from a couple of days ago in his bag this morning, so I have something tasty to drink while I blog.

Yesterday was pretty much a nothing day; I spent the entire day indoors, applying for jobs and not watching a movie. The day before, however...

I woke up at 8:00am, all set to get dressed and get a bus to my new job for 11:30. Except, as I mentioned in the previous post, my new job made me want to kill myself. So I really didn't want to go. Really, as in, the idea of going made me want to burst into tears and/or hyperventilate. I thought because I'd done telesales before, it would be somehow easier this time. Not so. Actually, it's a lot worse when you know that there is no possible chance of your job improving, ever. So after much deliberation and declarations that I would spend every possible moment looking for a new job, if only I could quit this one, I called the recruitment agent who found it for me and told him thanks, but no thanks. I know there will be a lot of people thinking I'm insane because unemployment is so high and yes, there is a chance that things will get so desperate that I have to go crawling back to the recruitment agency and beg for call centre work, but for right now, relieved doesn't even begin to cover how I feel.

On the subject of British nationals who complain that immigrants are stealing all their jobs: I don't blame you at all for not wanting to work in a call centre, but if you really are willing to do anything, there are a lot jobs available. Also, please stop bitching about immigrants getting paid British pensions as if all the money comes from your taxes. If we immigrants are expected to pay into the pension fund, we have every right to take out of it when we retire. Alternatively, if you don't want us collecting pensions, start petitioning your government to have us pay fewer deductions on our wages.

So, after quitting my job (and setting a new record for least time in employment - not counting the 'voluntary assessment' period at a company that was very vague about themselves right up until they tricked me onto a bus and tried to get me to do door-to-door canvasing), I went with my guy to a shop that was having a kick ass sale on outdoor clothing, so he could buy a really good rain jacket for much less than it was worth. He insisted on getting me a jacket too, despite my protests. It's a really nice jacket ♥

After that, we walked around (in our spiffy new jackets) and handed out CVs to a million different hotels and three or four recruitment agencies.

At one of the hotels, we walked in and I saw a bird stuck in the window and trying desperately to escape. So instead of asking if they had work available right away, I ended up catching this tiny bird and setting him free outside. He was so sweet and soft and scared and I really don't care if I killed any chances of them hiring me by rescuing him (personally, if it were my hotel, I'd hire someone because they'd saved a bird from my lobby).

After CVing, the weather had gotten quite warm, probably because we'd just bought rain jackets. I was extremely excited about this because I'd been dying to go swimming since January, when Spoy and I did the polar bear dip in Jasper. So we went home and I changed into my bathing suit, then we went to the beach. The water was ass cold, but swimming was super fun (although short-lived).

After I got changed back into clothes (+jacket), we walked along the beach, then through the park, went to the grocery store and bought salmon and wine and potatoes, came home and had an amazing dinner.

Now it's bucketing down rain, so I think the job search will be conducted mostly indoors today. In either case, it's definitely shower time soon.

Fish in the Water

We left Brighton on Saturday night and today we move into our new place. We've been staying with friends in the meanwhile, having a gay old time.

On Sunday, we went to Salisbury Cathedral, Stonehenge and Bath. It was wonderful. I was most excited to see Stonehenge, but at the end of the day, I think the cathedral was the most amazing. We couldn't take pictures of the inside, but as we walked in and I heard the choir singing, I found myself fighting back tears. For people who haven't left North America, it's hard to comprehend the majesty of somewhere like this; we don't have any buildings as old or as grand to compare it to. If you're ever in England, go to Salisbury and see the Cathedral. I can't wait to go back on a day when it isn't in use and see the tower.

Today, being the day we move into the new place, I need to find a new job. Sometimes it seems like all I do is look for new jobs and new places to live... and then I remember all of the new experiences I've had since coming to the U.K. in February, and it seems like I complain a lot more than I ought. Anyway, I did relatively little with the place hunting this time around, so the energy I saved there can go into finding a job.

On that note, I should cut this short and get to it. I'll just mention that a) my end-of-post plug took up way too much space last time and needs to be shorter and b) AthenaMcCormick.com is currently down, but I'm working to get it fixed ASAP.

Aigaion Girl ... a story of the end of days is available on Amazon.com. Get your copy now!

Another Big Update

As you can see, I've redone the blog again - or, I should say, I'm in the process of redoing it now. I need a new background, and to add some new pages (and fix the T shirts page) but I'm almost done, for now. I'll probably redo it again in a couple of months, when I have the energy to go in and fiddle with the code.

What else? We moved out of our house and into another at the beginning of May. This place is really small and a million miles away from everything; thankfully, we'll be moving on soon. I'm so tired of moving, but there isn't much for it.

I'm working (finally!) at a pizza place, which is a little embarrassing but ultimately not as bad as it sounds. There are parts of my job that drive me insane, but it's pretty much just a job. Most of the guys there (there are, counting the one that started this week, 5 girls that work there, and over 20 guys) are nice enough. Some are ridiculous and seem to think that because I'm new/female, I'm a) a complete idiot and b) should not be doing anything but bitch work. Luckily, they're in the minority. I really like my bosses, but I wish they would explain to me who is a supervisor and who isn't, so I know who I can tell to stuff it when they wordlessly shove a broom in my face.

In the land of men, I'm perfectly happy with the one I've got... which means that Murphy's Law comes into affect and despite not having gone on a single date during my adulthood pre-M., and despite only being asked out twice between the ages of 16 and 23, I have now, it seems, become a hot commodity. Well. This is a huge exaggeration. But after many years of guys showing next-to-no interest in me, it's really weird. Guys flirt with me on the phone and in person, ask me out, tell me how wonderful I am, despite not really knowing me... call me at really inappropriate times of night, despite knowing that I have a boyfriend... act really awkward around me the next day, as if my annoyance was unjustified... Anyway, even the harmless niceness makes me a bit uncomfortable. And it does, I have to admit, make me wonder where the hell all these guys were from, say ages 12-15 and 16-23. Not that I wish they'd been around; I'm annoyed for my past self, but for my current self, I'm glad they didn't show up.

After what seems like an eternity of being completely drained creatively, I've finally *touch wood* started writing again. It's in dribs and drabs, not the full on, type-like-a-banshee insanity of days of yore, but at least it's something. Once I get my momentum up, I have to decide which project to finish first and just bloody finish it. But for right now, I'm just happy there's something there.

I think that's all of my updatiness for now. I have a million things to do right now, but I'm too cold and tired and hungry to want to do anything other than climb under the covers and nap away the afternoon. Possibly tea could help with this. God, I miss tea.

House Hunting

From what I can gather, British TV falls into 4 categories: Antiques, Cooking, Property and Col. Gaddafi*.

The shows about property always amaze me. You get this middle class British family saying, "Well, we don't really want to go over 800,000 pounds." WhereTF did you get 800,000 pounds? WHERE? Minimum wage here is less than in Canada, and it seems like every one is getting laid off or having their jobs cut. I want 800 K. It would make my life so much easier.

At the moment (well, not right at the moment, since right at the moment, I'm writing this blog) I'm looking for a place. Finding cheap accommodation in a place like Brighton definitely isn't easy, but it's not as hard as, say, finding cheap accommodation with its own w.c. British people share these, it seems. Also, they often share shower rooms. It's a strange ol' world.

Brighton remains lovely and life remains wonderful, despite my still not being able to work and my being rather sick (I've been sick for days. I don't like it). It seems like I'm always fuzzy headed, either from the drugs or the lack thereof, but everything will be worked out soon, I know it (*knock on wood*)

Ok, cutting this short. I'm going to get myself into trouble if I spend the day in bed and blogging, so it's back to the house hunt for me.



*Also East Enders.

England is everything I could have hoped for, Brighton especially. I love the old buildings, the melancholy feeling in the air when it is cloudy, the remnants of camping and beaches and old fairs when there is sun.

I love the fashion here. Everyone is fashion conscious, which isn't to say they're well-dressed, but you can tell that time and consideration went into the choosing of every outfit, even the ugly ones. Still, there's a laid back feeling to it; these people dress the way they do not because it is popular, but because the genuinely want to look good.

I was a lot more impressed with central London than I was expecting to be. Maybe because we were there later in the evening or because of the time of year, but I didn't see any of the dirty, overcrowded mess that I had anticipated. It's lovely, incomparable to anything we have in Canada. Not somewhere I would live, given my dislike of people, but still somewhere I can see myself spending a lot of time quite happily.

I could write endlessly, I really could, but right now there's just way too much to see and do, so I'm cutting this short for the moment. More to follow, I'm sure.

Surreality

So I'm sitting at work for the last time, listening to classical music and thinking. I've got two hours left. Hard to believe after nearly 6 months working here.

Something has occurred to me over the past couple of days. I have had 10+ish jobs over the past 10 years and this is the only one that I've actually been sorry about leaving. Of course, I love that I'm going, and I LOVE why I'm going, but it's still going to be hard to say goodbye to this place and the people that make it what it is.

In some ways it feels like I've been here much longer than six months and in some ways it feels like I just got here. I can still clearly remember the 3 day bus ride, my first night in town, spent in room 120, my first nights in Cave Hell, all of it, really, from the summer. I remember being taken on a tour of the town, and, of course, meeting this intelligent, gorgeous man and agonizing over how I would ever get up the courage to ask him out :) It's forever ago and five minutes. Time is definitely malfunctioning here.

I have so much to do today. Most of it is laundry, some of it is packing and a fair bit will be deciding what stuff to donate to charity and what to do with things like that bigass painting that I did in (I'm going to say September, but I'm not sure). Somewhere in there, I need to have a nap, go to the gym, take down the Xmas tree, hopefully go to the bank, head to the post office. Then wings tonight and sushi tomorrow... and then it's off to Edmonton, early, early Friday morning.

It's a whirlwind. Even this shift, which consisted of one phone call, which I transferred, zoomed right by. I remember once, when I was little, we went camping and when I got into bed, I closed my eyes and counted to three. I don't know why I counted to three, but when I opened my eyes, it was morning. The whole night went by in 1... 2... 3. This feels kind of like that. In three seconds, I could be stepping into the arrivals area of the airport. Unbelievable, but deeply wonderful.

Valentine's Day

I figured I should write my Valentine's day post now, while I'm thinking about it, since I'm going to be way to busy, come the actual day.

I didn't used to be the biggest fan of Valentine's day. It's always struck me as kind of a weird holiday, way too commercial and based way too much of people's insecurities and fear of being alone.

BUT, since this Valentine's day will be nothing short of magical (I'll be landing in the U.K., after over 100 days of waiting* :), I'm a lot more pro V-day than I have been in the past. I am, of course, really looking forward to it this year. Of course, I would be anyway, even if to everyone else in the world, it was just another Monday.

AND (since we're starting whole paragraphs with conjunctions), on top of the impending wonderfulness of February 14th, I found the above Valentines here. I'm having to work very hard indeed not to buy them. Very hard.

Also, The Scientist is on the radio. ♥ overload.

*!!!!! :D ♥ !!!!!

Flesh for Fantasy = Never Changing the Radio Station

At work and nothing much to report. It is Rtardedly hot in here, and I am absolutely melting. Either there is something very wrong with my ability to regulate my body temperature or something wrong with all (3) of the buildings that I spend time in. I'm always either freezing cold or sweating buckets. Blah.

I love that my only complaints in life at the moment are tied to body temperature. Everything else is going wonderfully right now (*KNOCK ON WOOD!!!!!*) I leave Canada in a few short weeks and I think this is easily the most excited I've ever been about anything, ever.

I'm starting to stress a little, but it's all self-inflicted stress, brought on my guilt when I'm procrastinating and know I shouldn't be and it's easily overcome.

I'm going to miss this place; I have a great job, I've made some great friends and I live in a beautiful national park - but I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone back home that I haven't seen in 5.5+ months and I'm really looking forward to the part that comes after that, the end of the 108 day wait, when I'll fall into a state of ridiculous happiness which will somehow contrive to surpass what I'm feeling now.

:(

I'm using that face, 'cause there isn't a universally recognized I just vomited in my own mouth emoticon, and profound sadness at the situation is the runner up emotion. Soon after I got to work, this guy called, sounding fairly distraught and mumbling, then said something like, "Just let me put this down", set the phone down and proceeded to jerk off audibly. Yeah, perfect way to start my night. I'm terrified to answer the phone now. Apparently, he used to do this fairly frequently (I'm assuming it's the same guy), but stopped sometime before I started working here 5 months ago* and picked tonight to start up again. I tried to star 69 him, but it didn't work. Ugh. I so do not need this shit. I mean, honestly, why can't he just watch porn like everyone else?

Between that and learning about Bridalplasty, which is just a horribly depressing statement on the condition of the world, this hasn't been the greatest night ever. Dumb crap like this should not be getting to me, but for whatever reason, it is tonight.

I didn't make it to the gym tonight, and I really need to. I realized today that I haven't been since before Christmas. Not good.

On a much happier note, it's officially Jan 11. The past couple weeks have zoomed by... I can already feel the (comparatively) warm English rain on my face, smell airport smells and see London. I am so there.

*Hey, 5 months ago today - well, yesterday, but today for me... or something.

2011 Plans & Resolutions

I seem to switch back and forth between two opinions on New Years resolutions. Some years, I make tonnes (for 2009, I made 53 - I think I kept 2) and some years, I think it's stupid to need an excuse to do something that you should be doing anyway - IE: why would you wait until January to start going to the gym or quit smoking or start pottery lessons, or whatever it is that you're planning to do?

This year, well, I only really had one resolution, and I took care of it before 2011 started; I've already bought my plane ticket :) The past few months, I've filled this blog with allusions and (very) thinly veiled hints, so I thought today, as the first day of 2011 (I know, it's technically the second. I work graveyard. Sue me.), I would clarify a few things.

The countdown on the side of my blog is to Valentine's day, which just so happens, is the day I land(♥!). I'm going to the UK, where I plan to be blissfully (possibly even ridiculously) happy. I don't have a job yet, or a place to live, or a concrete plan for either of those things, and I'm not worried. I'll find a job, day to day life will be difficult for a while, pinching pennies will be an understatement of the necessary budgeting, I'll be poor. Poor and happy.

This reminds me of being a little kid on one of our roadtripesque* family vacations, bouncing up and down in the back seat, praying to some nameless higher power that soon, we'd just bloody get there. Although, when I was a kid, I was excited but also sullen and angry and impatient and now I'm pretty much just excited and impatient.

So, now to the planning. I have a million to do, and not too much time to do it in (see the counter). Time for more lists. :)

*On normal road trips, my understanding is that you stop and sleep occasionally, instead of driving for 18-26 hours nonstop.