I miss looking forward to summer
Anyone else here look back fondly on their childhood and find when ponder growing up they simply think ’Wow, if I had known this was going to happen I would never have eaten my vegetables.’ I miss the days when summer meant doing whatever struck my fancy (within vague reason) and whenever I wanted to. If I wanted to sit on a computer all day I did, and if I wanted to run wild through the streets of Uxbridge, well, that was another option.
Now, my summers are like a preview to ‘the real world’, I wake up at some heathen hour, drive an hour, work all day, drive an hour home, and have no desire to live much less do anything productive, then sleep on edge, because I know the very next day I will be jarred awake at 6:30AM. Rinse, repeat, every day, all summer. Summer is really no more special than any other season to be honest, but our society have given summer standing above all for no reason
Go, winter, go!
Anyways, apart from whining about my job, I’ve been trying to pick my courses for Uni, but it looks like all my compulsory credit courses are filled in the fall semester, making me wonder if, perhaps, I’ll have one course in Autumn, and nine in the winter, which would not be cool at all. I have to call University of Ottawa and find out what I’m supposed to do. I’m hoping to get into a Latin course, and I think I’m the only one ever that finds the idea of one cool.
In the universe of web, I’m going to recode everything… and I mean everything. As well as hopefully update layouts as well and simply make Empty Cage able to make it part of the way through validation before it says ‘funk this’ My coding is abysmal! Thank god for Amber who is my Web Guru, and has been helping me all the way along. Hopefully one day E-C.NET will look pretty.
You can read it now!
I forgot to update but Felicity (Fee) Worthington of the Gemma Doyle trilogy has a new (readable) layout, as well as codes, and some other small spiffy updates that make it look less like I threw it together in my sleep. I’ll even rewrite the content once I reread the books. Go look at it now, even if you don’t know what the heck I’m on about.
Job still blows.
Get yourself a career, employee of the year, only for a pat on the back
I am at work. I was working up until a few minutes ago, when I finished and Rob (my boss) is nowhere to be found. I think he’s in a meeting. So, I’m working in a warehouse for my dad’s company, and let me make it perfectly clear, I did not and do not want this job. In fact, I would sorely like to pluck my own eyes out. I haven’t really had female contact in months, and no Andrew to bring out my feminine side (no, there’s nothing insulting about that, read it again). Everyone here is really pretty gangstahhh and no wonder, I’m in Scarborough… I seriously need some ‘peeps’ My job involved unpacking wireless access points (for large stores like Loblaws) labelling them, and scanning them. Rinse repeat. I’m supposed to learn how to progam these things eventually, but that’s taking a bit longer than planned. It’s an hour commute to and from work. I am not pleased. It’s nice to spend some quality time with dad in the car though. I guess. Albeit, not nice enough to keep the job, my eyes are peeled. $10/hour working 8-5… pain pain pain.
I have a new much loved band called ‘Mad Staring Eyes’ (look them up on mySpace — and while you’re at it visit Sean Dineley at Huck’s Fin) I got their album from a band member at Pearson International while I was picking up my bag, he asked me to come to his show, but I didn’t listen to the CD until yesterday so I missed them, now I’m disappointed! Hahaha! That’s where the entry title comes from by the way, it seemed oddly fitting.
I had my photos taken for some movie audition thing, it was most insane, the photographer was insanely complimentary, I often wonder if that is obligatory in photographers, flatter the hell out of everyone who comes near you. At any rate it was interesting to watch and participate in. They talked about how my face would work for a part if I had bigger bags under my eyes and I stopped just shy of saying ‘Give me a few more weeks at this job, and I’ll give you bags.’
Still no word from Jamie, I’m trying to decide if sending a second e-mail looks like obsession. I abhor crushes.
I almost worked on websites last night but I spoke to Samantha on MSN, and she happened to be playing Pokemon, and obviously I then had to get my DS, and I played it most of the night. So anyone looking for website updates, blame her! Not me!
I’m thinking of learning to play the acoustic guitar that has migrated into my room.
Digital Darkness
I have been planning a new layout for this place but I cannot come up with how I want it to look, so I’m sitting here being a bit crippled. This layout makes me want to be back in the UK, and even if I consider it the best layout I have ever made it’s still a bit awkward to keep it up now that I’m back in Canada.
I’ve been so restless lately. So awkward coming back to this place.
And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make
I’m back in Canada.
I guess the word I would use to describe how I feel right now is wistful. I think it was the second grade when I first looked that word up in a dictionary because I had stumbled upon it in a number of books ’sad, as if longing for something’ and when I thought of the word I thought of a maze with invisible walls. You can always see the prize but the work to reach it is astounding. But let’s not make this an angsty entry.
Going abroad, I need to make some final comments on it, until I return next summer. And believe me, as long as I still have a good Visa I will be returning.
Going to the UK by myself in February has certainly been a learning experience. In fact, that’s what it was more than an job, holiday, or anything else I expected it to be. It was school for me, my remedial classes in life, and I needed them badly. As we can see by the trials, and triumphs.
The first thing, and likely most painful thing I learned is that sometimes the best friends you will ever make in your entire life you’ll meet once and never again. You have to accept this or you’ll go crazy. For all the contact details I’ve accumulated, I’ve only got a fraction of the people I’ve met. And of those I do have most will drift away, even if they are people who I will never make better friends with.
I’ve learned that courage is a rare and valuable virtue, and the valour is something irreplaceable in humankind. And you have to live with as much bravery as you can. You have to be shameless in throwing yourself into life or you lose so much in the experience. I hope I have enough courage to make my life one of greatness.
I’m so jetlagged, I can’t seem to get the rest of this entry out.
Excuses, excuses.
Lunch on the Pope
Well, I guess now is the point in which I finish talking about my trip and talk about my homecoming. Home… such a relative term. Any ways.
At Munich I also toured Dachau, the other concentration camp on my mission. I took a guided tour and it wasn’t quite as moving as Sachausen, but I learned a whole heap more about sort of what when on in the camp itself. On the whole Munich was a pretty average place to visit. I would recommend it to people who actually drink unlike yours truly.
Keyboards in Germany are bizarre. The letter ‘Y’ and the letter ‘Z’ are actually switched, so it was nearly impossible for me to type anything. In Munich I met an Aussie lady travelling actually with her daughter, I tried to imagine how that would go for me and my mom, and who would try and drown whom first in the beer garden.
There were some other strange things in Germany though, like every cup has a line on it to show exactly where, say o.4 litres is so they don’t accidentally give you too much soda, as well, most bathrooms have an automatic seat cleaner, which, after you flush, wipes down the seat with what looks like a wet napkin. So strange, and yet, so German. My German was terrible as expected.
My thoughts are scattered again, so apologies for another entry that seems disconnected, my mind is missing today. I’m just so… But nevermind.
From Germany I went down to Italy, stopping in a small Austrian town in the Alps. It was pretty, but we only stopped there half an hour. I think it was called St. Johannes or something. Regardless, very picturesque… but of course… I have no pictures of it.
Yea, my second camera was stolen in Venice. Go me. Ugh.
Anyways, Venice was quite interesting, but beautifully terrifying. When they say you ‘get lost in Venice’ this is not some sort of romantic sentiment, this is cold hard fact. You will get lost in Venice. I went into the city thinking I’d spend two or three hours just chilling in the city — seven hours later when I found the train station again. Haha. But yea, camera with all of my pictures from the trip… gone. Figures.
Venice is stange and terrifying with an hundred small streets and alleys the walls are all high so it’s almost impossible to navigate properly, and with all the mask shops and other rather eerie looking places it really is a bit of a creepy city. Though it is interesting to go into a shop and see some Italian painting a mask right there on the front counter. Seriously, genuine Venetian or what? I wish I had someone to talk to in Venice though because I felt very alone the whole time. My Visa stopped working for awhile whilst I was there too, thus leading to a little unbridled terror for one of my days in Venice.
The ‘hostel’ in Venice was actually a camp site, right by the airport. Yes, all night it was awesome all you could hear was ‘VAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!’ of the airplanes going overhead. And, my room mates who left on the first day left something rank in the room. Venice was, on the whole a place I was a bit uncomfortable in. I want to go back, but not alone, which is odd for me.
From Venice I hit Rome which was a bit on the surreal side I have to admit. Oh, look, there’s the Coliseum, and… the Forum… and the Pantheon… and a hundred amazing buildings and… well let’s face it, the city oozes awesome from it’s ancient pores. Seriously, if walking London is like walking a novel, walking Rome is like walking a history text book. Who knew the Pantheon was now a Christian church, because I certainly didn’t. Seems, I don’t know, ironic or something.
Vatican City was impressive to say the least, so extravagant, sort of like Versailles, where you sit there thinking no wonder it couldn’t last forever without some serious trouble. I even got to see the real version of my favourite painting, ‘The School of Athens’ by Raphael. And the pope paid for my lunch. Indirectly of course.
I go to the cafeteria and pick up a modest lunch, noting that they take Visa, as to be honest I never had more than 5 Euros cash all through Italy, anyways, I go to pay and wouldn’t you know it, the Visa machine isn’t working. I ask where the nearest ATM is, and she says there isn’t one in the Vatican. I’m starving and probably look it, because she mutters something in Italian and runs off, coming back with a manager looking guy, and they basically say ‘Go eat.’ so there we are free lunch.
Okay.
Sorry this entry is lacking my usual charisma, but my heart isn’t really in it right now. I really want to relate all these stories to you properly, but I’m so dejected about returning to Canada just opening up Wordpress seemed unapealing to the point of nauseating.
Now everyone’s mad because I don’t want to come back, but it’s not the people I don’t want to come back to. It’s that I’ve fallen for this stupid country quirks and all. Everything from the robolady on the Chyuuube, to driving on the wrong side of the road, to the lifts. And I love all you nutty Canucks back home, but this is the place I feel like I should be, and leaving it is hard.
Back to packing.
Whirlwind.
I have 20 minutes to update all of you on what I have been doing for the past week now. And it hasn’t exactly been the most laid back week of my life.
I left Scotland last Sunday or Saturday (can’t even remember anymore) with a tragic good bye to Jamie and Derek, and to Steve in spirit I imagine, I returned to Milton Keynes to get my act together.
Starting laaaast… Monday I guess I was on a plane to Amsterdam, in the Netherlands for the precious few who have not made it their life’s goal to go to Amsterdam. And what on Earth can I really say about Amsterdam that hasn’t been said before? If you’re as straight laced as I am (secret high five for Amber here) you cannot help but feel a twinge nervous about the idea of Amsterdam, even if the city itself is very nice. It won’t surprise most to know that very few people who are actually from Amsterdam smoke, it’s mainly the idiot tourists.
Highlight of the visit was the Anne Frank house where I felt it was safe to let my guard down a little (in all honesty who is going to drug me in the Anne Frank house?) it was interesting, but, like Versailles most of what I saw was the back of another tourist’s head. I went to the house after the New Europe free walking tour ( I love these tours — and not only because they are free but it helps) So, I did technically see the red light district. Technically. I spent the day hanging out with a British guy, who was quite awesome to be honest.
Amsterdam is Andrew’s city, drugs and bicycles. ( I love you too, Shiny.)
From Amsterdam I took a day trip to Brussels, and quickly discovered… there’s nothing to DO in Brussels. Seriously, give me one reason to go to Brussels besides to chocolate? Ah? I win.
From Amsterdam I jetted off to Berlin which was amazingly awesome, now when I read history books and they talk about somewhere in Berlin I can actually draw up a memory and not just use the gigantic mental substitute of ’somewhere in Europe’ Berlin was pretty in such an interesting way, plus they do memorials like no one’s business. The one to the burnt books was especially dramatic, and the holocaust memorial, it was like something you cannot describe. You have to go there and experience that.
Because I’m in a rush now with my clock at 10 minutes, I have to tell you about Sachausen concentration camp at a later date. Needless to say, it was the single most powerful experience of my life so far and literally a human turning point for me. My entire life has been altered by this one day. Scary, isn’t it?
Berlin to Munchen (or Munich if you spracken englisch) I was let down by Munich mostly because I wanted to see Prague or Vienna more but it didn’t happen like that. It was a very impressive city regardless, what with it’s Glockenspiel.
And, okay, this entry will have to be postponed as my clock is about to run out.To be continued (dun dun dunnnnn)
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