Empty Cage

Well, a lot has happened and that is why I haven’t written for so long. In fact, I have to reread my last entry before I post this one. Not even that much time has elapsed, just a lot of stuff has elapsed, and I’ll never be able to do any of it justice on my journal, so, here I go, taking the plunge now.

Well, since the last entry I have broken out of my little social dead zone, in a rather huge way. You see, my dorm with good old Dominic filled up with two more South Africans and two Aussies. All male of course. Yes, I’ve been ‘one of the guys’ for the past — two weeks, which hasn’t been too terrible, as I have had people to talk to. From time to time at least. And only at the cost of having to listen to the lot of them snore in chorus. Seriously, they could have a choir group with their snoring. But other then that they’re all endearing, ish. That and the fact that everything is cold to them and it’s been really warm here lately.

But I need to start from the beginning, way back, what, two or three weeks ago now. Bloody ‘ell, time flies when you’re actually doing stuff. And I have actually finally been doing stuff. No, seriously, I swear! I’ve just been so unmotivated to write about any of it because I’ve been so busy actually doing things, shocking, I know, but there you have it.

For the past few weeks I have been working at the Royal Infirmary doing stuff with their archives, the work is alright I suppose, and there is no asshole breathing down my neck about doing things faster. In fact, the only qualm about the job itself that I have is this: ‘They have no idea how they want these archives to be sorted’ Which, I mean, technically isn’t too big of a deal, except that they tell me to do it one way and then suggest a ‘slightly’ different way of sorting things which only takes a good day to finish. This would be fine if the job wasn’t only three days a week. The best part of the job was when the agency called me, the first thing they say, before when or where I’m working is ‘How are you with the sight of blood?’

Yes, so, riddle me this Batman, if I am working three days a week for £6.50 how am I making enough money to stick around here?

I’m not.

Here’s where I tell you all about the massive trip around Europe I have planned, but I’m not quite ready to share yet as the itinerary still needs some serious tweaking.

Okay, so, all that excessive preamble and still no goods about what I have been doing (well, besides working). I actually need to dig out my paper journal to figure out what I have done, it seems a bit blurry. Not due to substance abuse, keep your minds out of the gutter, simply a lot has happened.

I guess it was about Wednesday when I finally decided to get in touch with Jamie (Hottie McScotland), we planned to meet up on the Friday of last week, which had me a little giddy. Hello, school girl. Not that I planned to really flirt with him or anything, I mean, let’s face it, I was planning to leave within the week of meeting up with him. But, hey, it’s nice to see a friendly face, all-in-all the meeting went well, he’s one of those crazy musicians that I always seem to meet up with, and so we spent the evening hopping from pub to pub listening to the bands of his mates. A number of them were quite good, and while we ended on a hand holding cheek kissing kind of note, I keep reminding myself international crushes are a big huge no-no, they lead to amazing heartbreak AND ruin awesome countries for you, the double whammy of ‘suckage’. We’re meeting again this Saturday evening, so hopefully I can persuade myself that it is a one-shot crush and will vanish from there.

Despite the above being the sort of blushingly awesome part of the weeks, what’s been really fun about hostel life is my room mates, despite the fact that they were a bunch of idiot guys. One of the South Africans (Steve) and I hit it off pretty well and spent a lot of time just talking. He had just broken up with his girl friend of six years, and I was angsting about Andrew’s trek to northland. Because that’s what 19 year olds do, we angst, and we are damn good at it. So Steve and I chatted about whatever for a good most of the week at random points. Specifically about the wild and crazy ways of Canada. It’s amazing how thing like… skating on a pond, that are such an integral part of my childhood can simply… not exist in other countries. In Canada, we skate on ponds, in South Africa… well… they have lions.

Derek and Steve fed me a few times within the week, which, since becoming an international traveller really endears me to people. Haha. In reality the last few weeks have been fun, but not in a reportable kind of way, that is to say, those involved had a good time, but it was a lot of movie watching and Edinburgh wandering rather than grand and sweeping adventures that I try and report to you.

One evening we went to a graveyard to take photos (you must note this was Steve’s suggestion and not mine, and so, don’t be rolling your eyes at me) and it was decided that I would take no more photos of the trip as Steve and Derek got all touristy and dragged out the tripods meaniong they had nice pictures and I got to frolic in the graveyard. Seemed like a pretty fair deal to me.

Another interesting event was the hike to Arthur’s Seat, upon arrival, I had a massive allergy attack and headed back to the hostel, soon to be followed by my two South African friends. I’m not sure why they didn’t go to the top, perhaps it was too cold or something. Regardless, they actually beat me back to the hostel even though I left first, only because I was on the hunt for allergy drugs.

The problem with this entry for a reader is that it is all out of order, but my retrospect for the past two weeks is kind of funny, I remember things in chunks and not chronological order, let’s see if I can actually get everything in.

On his second or third night, (this is back before Arthur’s Seat) Steve brought home a rebound fling to the hostel. He claims nothing happened, but let me tell you, awkwardness does not begin to describe sleeping in a bed beside two people who are uhm… quite obviously doing absolutely nothing. Nothing at all really. And the night before Arthur’s Seat, one of the Aussies, Zach had brought home a girl and they also did nothing I’m sure. The police showed up at the hostel in the morning because the girl’s friends had reported her missing. After being awoken by the police and assuring them that the fling was alive and well the two Aussies and the kidknappee started drinking wine, and they were still drinking by the end of the day when the three of us returned.

Steve and Derek were feeding me in the ‘Southern Hemisphere Kitchen’ so all of room 2 just sort of hung out there. Two sloshed Aussies and the South Africans about to bust out the Brandy and Coke.

But again, before I continue I should talk about what the Southern Hemisphere Kitchen is. Basically in the hostel there are two kitchens. The clothes dryer feeds into the one kitchen and it is always really stupidly humid in there, whereas in the other kitchen it is sort of generally chilly. Chastising me for being in the cold kitchen it was dubbed the ‘Northen Hemisphere Kitchen’ by my almost sneering room mates. If I didn’t want to be alone I was forced to go against my natural inclination and hang out in the Southern Hemisphere Kitchen.

Back to my tale though, though looking at it now there isn’t much to tell. Everyone got drunk and started laughing about god knows what. It whole incident was so politically incorrect I had to shield my poor Canadian ears. I eventually made an almost dramatic exit when an Aussie accidentally dropped a glass of wine in my lap. That was all she wrote for me, and strangely enough it wasn’t long before the chorus boys came back to sleep.

The next day we went to visit Rosslyn Chapel and the beach. Two total opposite ends of the city but we figured since we had a bus pass we may as well see all of the city that would require bussing. Rosslyn Chapel was, well, interesting I wished I had managed to get there before the Da Vinci Code had come out so I could actually see it. The chapel itself is under a tin barn like canopy, making it very unphotogenic on the outside and you are not allowed to take photos on the inside. The only good thing about the canopy is that there were steps along it so you could climb up and see the art of the roof of the chapel exceptionally well. We also hiked to the ruins of Rosslyn Castle and, apparently someone’s house. On the whole, the Rosslyn Hike, while a nice one and such sort of suffered in that it seemed very much like Canada, but Steve and Derek seemed to enjoy it. Only to be let down by the beach which they seemed to expect would be something like the beaches at home. This is Scotland, beautiful white sand is as common here as it is in Canada.

I finally got myself something from Scotland, it only cost me 50p so I don’t feel bad having bought it. A half penny from 1888. The person who guesses why I picked that year wins… something. I’ll think on it and decide once someone figures it out — it’s really easy and only took two tries.

Yesterday Steve left for Dublin, and the day before the Aussies vanished into thin air. Dominic (The old South African and my lifelong room mate it seems) is in London, so it’s just me and Derek now, and to be honest, I almost miss the snoring. Though not enough to ask for it back… trust me.

I’ll probably remember something I forgot to say as soon as I sign off this entry, so the next entry my be incredibly long like this one. Apologies in advance. Next entry will hopefully detail the itinerary for my last hurrah. I should be home June 11th 2008 and I expect 24 hours to sleep, and then people offering me gifts and love. Or gifts of love.

To my commenters:

Amber, glad you liked it! Despite the grammatical errors in it. I don’t want to leave yet, curse making the mature decision! Curse it to heck! Hopefully you’re feeling better since last night, lav.

Mom, naw, I would never make that face at you.

Val, Brazil was pwnt. But seriously, ghost tours are so much fun, I think I’d like to lead one.

Kassi, argh, I’m going to miss your return! I hung out with Will just the other day, we sort of wandered the Burgh and talked. I have to catch you later, maybe you should come to Canadatown.

I had had more than my fill of being poor in London. And that’s not to say I dislike the city at all, it was simply that I had no money, and I didn’t want to feel like a poor colonial cretin any more. I will go back one day and become a proper Londoner, until then I have moved to Edinburgh.

But I have so much to write about! My last entry hardly covered everything that has happened. It didn’t really even scrape the surface.

My last week in London (for now, I still have to see the Jack the Ripper exhibit at the Docklands exhibit, as well, I WILL see the Phantom when I get more money) was so full of stuff I’m still reeling from it. It’s amazing how much you still want to do once you realise you’re leaving.

I went out clubbing (I use the term extremely loosely here) with an American girl I met in the hostel named Cassie. We headed to some pub first, where she starts drinking and I peacefully drink my coke. (I swear people who read this must think I’m insane or a complete liar… I assure you, it is the former) So, we invited the Belgian girl from our hostel and she came along later, with, oh yea, six Spanish guys in tow. Well, permit me to correct, five Spanish guys, and one guy from “nowhere” (that’s actually where he told us he was from) but he was twitching seemingly uncontrollably, and kept saying weird things, he left early, Danke Gott.

Initially the main language used by the group was English, which is lovely, because it’s the only one I’m completely fluent in. But then some Dutch guy comes to our table and asks if anyone smokes, Cassie does. So she leaves. Belgian girl lived in Spain for three years, guess what happened next?

=D

Yes, we all started speaking Spanish. Well, they all started speaking Spanish, I started counting the bubbles in my coke. One of the Spanish guys (who I think was probably sweet on me as his hands kept accidentally finding it’s way on my knee or shoulder… Andrew told me laws of seduction lesson one, casual physical contact is key) gave me play-by-play on the conversation ‘Now we’re talking about sports’, and ‘Now we’re talking about the English’ I nearly politely excused myself, but then, I guess Canada came up as the topic of conversation, as I was left all alone, (Cassie is now sitting with the Dutch guys laughing and carrying on) I had to try and decipher broken drunken English as the Spaniards pelted me with questions about North America, then got frustrated because I was talking to fast and speaking ‘too well’ I kept my cool, but when the bar closed and they invited me ‘dancing’ I politely declined, and fled with guy-crushing-on-me and Belgian girl in tow.

It’s funny, they could not believe I had never learned a word of Spanish. I think I got asked a hundred times ‘Never? Not even once?’ ‘No. I’m Canadian they teach us FRENCH. You know, ‘bonsoir’, ‘fromage’, ‘pomme’… Blame the Quebecois.’

The next day I played tour guide in central London for Cassie. It’s amazing how quickly things become unimpressive when you live around them. “There’s buckinghampalacethereswestminsterabbeyandbigbenandtrafalgarsquare yayz’ I feel so spoiled.

So that evening I was supposed to see Mama Mia in the Leicester (Lester, damnit) Square cheap seats with Hong Kong room mate and Belgian Room Mate, but we lost Hong Kong girl and I didn’t feel like spending £20 to see a show I’ve seen in Toronto all by myself. So I went on a Jack the Ripper walk.

Strange days. I met a trainee tour guide while on the Jack walk and so I chatted with him the whole time about who I thought the Ripper was and all of my little theories. He said I should be doing the ripper walk. We went to the Ten Bells after the tour, (a favourite hang out of the victims apparently) and they played the Doors there all night, which felt oddly wonderful. Myself and this guy just sat around and talked Jack and Diana and JFK.

I left the hostel for Milton Keynes and from there hit Edinburgh where I am now. Night before last I met up with Cassie again and her friend from the city, again the loosely termed ‘clubbing’ she was already plaaaaaastered beyond concept, so I sat and sipped my coke and watched real-live sexual tension between the two (British guy has a girlfriend in Wisconsin, but seems to have a crush on Cassie as well) by the end of the evening Cassie was proclaiming that she was going to call BUNAC the next day and get her VISA. Okay.

So other then that, calling agencies and stuff is the next step, I plan to stay in this lovely little hostel (with free Wifi) and temp from there. Ah, bliss and easy stuff.

Last night I went to a Chinese restaurant, it was a bit more expensive than my usual fare but worth it. I came out of the place feeling like a princess. (Back to my weekend hostel which smelt terrible and was right in the middle of the party district so it was loud all night and the blankets looked like they were pulled out of a dumpster)

Regardless, I feel somehow happier.

To my commenters:

Mah, yes, I suppose that is a job suited to my talents.

Amber, Danke lav.

Sweeney will not be coming out here until May 15th… Seriously, What the hell? It was set here!

And they have the GALL to call this western civilisation. Frontier territory, that’s where I am… I mean, what do they have to do? Translate it?

However, they do have literally shelves of the Battle Royale movie. No seriously, I have a photo. In the first section of HMV there were several shelves with Battle Royale on them. Definite shock there — thus I actually did take a picture.

I’m so bored and lonely. Honestly, only old people in my hostel, again I say, YOUTH hostel, not old-bloody-age home! I just need someone to spend some time with, you know, lone ranger skit is nice but complete isolation is going to have me chatting up a volleyball.

Hey! I’m alone on an island! It could totally happen!

Possibly Liverpool on the weekend. I should do my Beatlemania thing and past-stalk the Beatles. Maybe I’ll do Abbey Road tonight to get myself warmed up.

The noisy Aussies who hated me, the Indian who was probably  too ill to be in a hostel that night as she made the most amazing sounds from the moment her head hit the pillow until she woke up, the pant(and trouser!)less wonder, Team God Bless America… you certainly meet interesting characters in hostels. Then you meet people like KiwiClare, HottieMcScotland, and ‘I’m not in Mississippi anymore’, and suddenly you remember that hostelling isn’t really all that bad.

HOWEVER. I am going to KILL my only room mate this week. KILL HER WITH KNIVES. Call my BFF Jack, teh rippxxorzxcorelollerskates.

But seriously.

This woman is probablyyyy about 60 something or 70 something. Therefore lulling you into a false sense of security. You’d THINK it would be me pissing her off, after all, I am a strapping teenager full of vitality and life.

But no. Not at all in fact, night one, I politely introduce myself and say ‘I have to sleep now, I need to work tomorrow’ Does she shut up? No! Is it general chatter? Nope! Specific questions that I feel obliged to answer in the interest of peace in the hostel? Abso-bloody-lutely!

Now, generally speaking, talking too much is forgiveable in a hostel, last night is why I want to kill her.

I go to bed nice and early after talking to Stacey on the phone, I notice her bags and stuff are still around but she’s not in yet, I figure I should sleep any ways ‘Hostel Law number five hundred and twenty four states if thou gets to thy hostel after thy first person in the room falls asleep thou shallt get thy shit together silently in the dark, in the mercy of our lord, the manager’ Which I assume she does, because I didn’t wake up when she came in.

It’s not until she turns her radio on at 3:55AM that I wake up. A talk show. First assumption is it’s a mistake, or some kind of seriously funked up alarm system, as the topic of discussion seems to be rice. Then I hear the volume and station being adjusted slightly, to eliminate static.

I am floored by this. As I try to decide if it is quiet enough to sleep through I decide I am too indignant to even try. I try to subtly get across the fact that I am no longer sleeping, by conciously tossing, and sighing. No avail. So I growl over my shoulder, ‘You mind turning that down a bit?’ She offers a gloomy half-arsed apology and turns it off. As though I am putting her out. Hello? It’s 4 AM, don’t funking mess with me.

YHA, Youth Hostel Association my…

Anyways! Ireland!

I was surprised at how ‘hardcore’ Dublin was. I imagine it has a much ‘younger’ population in London. I arrived after about 45 minutes on a plane and met up with Marilyn. Every sign is in Gaelic and English! My room at Marilyn’s was preeetty much like a hotel room (needless to say I was pleased)

Our day around Dublin was awesome, I managed to get all my touristy stuff down. The Book of Kells, Trinity Collage, and of course I am physically unable to enter a city and not see the official museum. And NOTHING makes you feel like a bad person for being English like an Irish museum. You know, every atrocity EVER was committed by the British. EVER. Nazi Rule? The Royal Family is German! You kind of feel like putting on an Irish accent just in case. The surname… uhm… O’Bagg… yes, that’s me, Caitlin O’Bagg, and of COURSE Caitlin spelt with a C and an I what do you think I am? British?

The worst part is I am Irish and I still felt bad.

After doing Dublin Marilyn took me out to the countryside to see the lambs. I nearly died of adorable overload. Especially the little black one, I relate to the little black sheep. I am the little black sheep.

Sunday was… amazing.

We went to this castle ruin. Only it wasn’t a ‘popular’ castle ruin, so I had the whole castle to myself. It was breathtaking, and to be the only one there. On the way down Marilyn and I met up with a local. I think he said he was going to be doing an archaeological dig there, but I didn’t understand a word with his thick accent and the speed he was talking.

We also went to a monastery and cemetery which I would have appreciated so much more if I wasn’t still in awe of the castle.

To my commenters:

Ange, some of the Hardcore Irish boys were pretty swoonable. My joke was most amazingly amusing! My jokes always are! You said so! You have to stop hanging out with me if my jokes stop being funny! You are ultra fabby (my Britishism) Huzzah!

Daniel, Do comment more, or I’ll set… Dana on you!

From the last entry:

Emmadawn, I needed you and your ‘le 1337 (un-trois-trois-sept) skillz francais’ in Paris. I was so happy getting to see Jim <3

If you want to send me le mail de escargot you can send it here:

16 Bowling Green Lane,
London,
EC1R 0QH

And I will get it <3

Bwahahah on the evil Yellow faces which I’m still trying to figure out how to disable.

To Crystal, I know D= I misses real internets

To Amber, I have a few pages for you to start with, how many do you want at once?

To Mah, no only dead people I hero worship get that sort of love. Syd’s next.

For the faint of mind my cute wording of escapes instead of the classic comments was switched back to the cliched comments tag. My mother can rest easy tonight knowing that I have done her will. All is now right in the world, and, do I suddenly hear the sound of beautiful birds singing sweet melodies by my ear? Okay, okay, sarcasm aside…

I’m going to talk about something of no interest to anyone but Amberlove in this next section (Unless you have been stalking the short story I have been writing for her for Birthday-Christmas-Wintereenmas), and that is the story I am writing for her. Basically, I thought of a brilliant plot twist last night a stellar ending almost as good as the one I had originally planned. So, I am at a crossroads as to which ending I would like I am drumming my fingers on the desk pondering it now. A copy of the story in question (bys the by) can be found on my fictionpress site or in the writing section of this site.

Now for some good news — I got into the University of Ottawa! Yes, that’s right, a University actually accepted me despite all my shortcomings and oddities, and you had so little faith too, Miss. Bowley, didn’t you? I’m technically registered for philosophy, (an up-and-coming degree for homelessness I hear!) but I may switch to history (homelessness and alcoholism!) I know I should probably have stuck with technology, but I can only be a young idealist once! Then I have to find a real job.

My cold has died down a bit, but I’m still feeling a bit sick, I spent all of yesterday sleeping, much to the dismay of my roommates. I had a french girl who kept checking in with her boyfriend…(Gee, I wonder why she was so upset with me?) and two Japanese girls who were very sweet and kind et all, but spoke loudly in Japanese from dusk until dawn. It was a bit irritating, because I could understand pieces of it but not enough to know what they were talking about, so I had a bit of a headache trying to tune them out.

I read for most of yesterday — The Sweet Far Thing again, Candide, Beyond Good and Evil, and Dracula again meaning I’m all but completely finished my book reserve. I only have Sartre’s Nausea left, and that was a bit heavy even for me to get through while I was ill. So I played some Nintendo DS to while away to thirty seconds it took for my to fall asleep.

Also, I also finally spoke to the elusive Mr. Powers yesterday, and he promises food! And life outside of the hostel and help in finding a job, which I could not possibly be happier about. I also applied at some CD chains and some stationary chains (Staples had to be good for something)

To my commenters:

Amber, of course I am still writing yours story (see above) I am just at a crossroads >>; (And the camera thief shall suffer muchly… just WAIT!) I’m going to try and get on AIM at a time that you are… curse the 5 hours!

Kathy, hehe! I’ve always been a fan of Britishisms, which makes my dear friends roll their eyes– but now I have an excuse!

I’m going to now use text based images to explain to everyone something about my life, back in Canada everything seemed very much like the following line:

—————————————–

Notice, very static and unchanging, I could have lived life in my sleep and still gotten by pretty fine, here in England is a rather different tale, my line looks more like the following instead:

—–^v^v^v^——–^v^^^^^vvvvvvvVVVvv—-^^^^^—^v

(The ‘v’s being low points and the ‘^’s being high points)

I’m not used to this much variance in how things move about. I vowed to myself I would be optimistic this entire trip even if it killed me. I’m finding it difficult as this morning I found my beloved camera missing. I’ve visited most of the places I’ve been since then but to no avail. I guess that’s extremely hard to be optimistic about. I’m going to call Darlington, Middlesborough and Whitby stations as well as my Whitby Hostel and see if anyone turned it in on another leg of my journey, but I’m not holding out much hope. It’s just so bloody HARD to be optimistic about something like that, if it doesn’t turn up by the end of the week I’ll have to replace it, I’m sure there’s a silver lining SOMEWHERE I’m just not seeing it. What a way to kill a happy trip by the sea.

Anyways, minus the huge ragedisappointmentfuryetc at having a vanishing camera (I’m not going to say I’ll bet some arsehole stole it but…illbetsomearseholestoleit)… I might have an interview. I do have someone to call for an interview I did get the e-mail while I was in the North, I just hope the position isn’t filled yet. Right, optimism, the position isn’t filled yet and they are killing themselves for a Canadian for some reason.I’ll try to stop the sarcasm, and say they may or may not hire me, end of story. And called, as I type this and as usual ‘The Middle Way’ they’ve filled the position for right now, maybe in a month they might have space. Count backwards from 10 and breath, it’s a data entry job, not a huge deal.

I’m getting my bank card today finally, so I can put the scary, scary Visa I’ve been living off somewhere far away and hidden. Not that I have any real money, but it’s nice to know I can pretend and people won’t give me the ‘put away your silly Canadacards’ look.

I had the roommate from hell last night, she woke up every hour all night and loudly demanded the time, she smelt strongly of alcohol and she didn’t seem to understand that there were four other women in the room. SHE WORE NO PANTS OR UNDERGARMENTS. I nearly fainted. She slept deep into the morning while I was trying to find my camera and whined that I was making too much noise, while she snorted and sighed all night. Ugh!!

ON THE BRIGHTSIDE–

Which I am dead set DETERMINED to come up with now, I walked past Fleet street today while I was lost, and started humming part of the Sweeney Todd theme to myself and someone joined in my humming. ALSO, I still have my laptop, which I would die if someone stole. AS WELL, I AM IN LONDON. And while I spend most of my existence lost in this city there is so much to see and do. FINALLY! I am about to go out and eat, which should be enough to make anyone happy.

To my commentors who I didn’t reply to last time:

Bergberg! I’m trying not to! I’m a bit of an inborn personal stresser that comes from my mother as I’ve sure you’ve guessed.

Harvey! I actually transfered all of my York and about a quarter of my Whitby pictures onto my laptop so I still have a few photos to show off yet, I may get a disposable camera for now.

Three big days in a row and I have yet to report on either of them. I am currently at YHA in York. I am ticked at the YHA of course, I get here tired and lost and the front desk guy asks if I want an YHA membership, as usual, I say no and of course he slides in ‘yourroomisanextrathreequidanight’ aha! The catch, doing the math if I pay the three pound a night I’m still only one pound off, but, if I decide to extend my visit then it’ll be worth it, and I can stay at a YHA hostel when I get back into London. It’s just hysterical that last little grab at money. I got a twenty-four hour internet voucher for today and tomorrow, so that I’ll be set until I go back to London. I have to go to London whether a get a job here or not unfortunately because my luggage is still in London.

But let me start at the beginning here, the day before yesterday I died and went to heaven. I went to the Mecca of History nerds; I was at the British Museum, oh my god. It was like heaven, I almost burst into tears of joy when I saw the real Rosetta stone, it was beyond the most amazing thing I had ever seen, one slab of rock that his taught us immeasurable things about the past—it makes me giddy just thinking about it. I had barely scraped the surface of the Egypt exhibit before closing time because I must have gotten lost about a hundred times before I got there. I cannot even come close to describing the sheer joy of being in that museum. Man, I am such a bloody nerd. I plan on going back and actually taking some pictures because the first time around I decided I wanted to look first. I’ve been trying to live my trip and not spend as much time snapping all the sights as I did last time. I only pull my camera out if I am really inspired. I’m sure I’ll need it when I walk York Minster tomorrow. While I do plan on dropping off CVs here I’m treating York like a bit more of a Holiday. I like my prospects of getting a job in London much more than York. I do love this town though; it’s beautiful, like living in a medieval village. I spent five hours on a bus today getting here, I should hope I like it.

The scenery around York is much prettier too; it’s a very tranquil town. Walking to my hostel was a bit of a drag though, it’s about a mile from the train station and I didn’t know what bus to take and so I walked it instead, overshot it by a lot and then was helped by an old lady who seemed to have a half German half Yorkshire accent. I have reason to believe she was both the loneliest lady in the world and a touch senile. She insisted on talking to me until her bus came, and then got the bus driver to take me there. I felt very awkward, but she was very interested in Canada and kept asking if I was sure I wanted to stay at the hostel. I was a touch sketched out, so I declined several times. I’m sure she was perfectly lovely, but all I had wanted to know was if I was going the right way! I’ll be hitting the streets tomorrow, but I think I know my way back here. This hostel is much nicer than the other one there seem to be more families and older people here than at ISH.

It’s hard to avoid being a bit disheartened, despite the fact that I’ve really only been job hunting five or six days, and only looking for actual retail jobs since yesterday. I had been relying on job boards and job websites, when really it’s probably more about just applying at places like HMV, Virgin records, Borders and W.H. Smiths, the big music and book chains. I don’t know, I just miss my family and friends now I think. That or I’m getting really nervous about not having a job.

And to my commentors

Mom, I’ll talk to you on the phone, the cover of the book in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the galaxy is ‘Don’t Panic’ and I’m going to give that a try.

Amber, I love you and will AIM you.

Orientation yesterday actually reminded me exactly how jet lagged I was, because between taxes and accommodation almost everyone had the dazed ‘jet-lagged’ sort of face on — except one Aussie guy and an American girl who seemed particularly loud, though likely only because the rest of us were so tired. Fortunately they both already had jobs so they left us in peace after the first half of orientation. We all sat there in stunned silence as we all half realised what we had gotten ourselves into. Work, that is, lots and lots of work. A booked another two nights at my hostel… I like to only do it in small increments incase I get too ‘comfortable’ and make no moves to get a place to live. Hostels are not comfortable, but knowing I might not get a room puts some fire to my feet.

At any rate, as a vain stab of hope I e-mailed most of the major London museums yesterday begging them to consider me. I plan to e-mail a few outside of London too. My vain hope continues! Though I also plan to apply at jobs I might actually get, like, office work and retail positions. Though bookstore-retail not Staples-retail. Nothing says bad six months like having the ESP ghost hovering dangerously around my shoulders. Speaking of Staples, I’m disappointed, the four dollar (no dollar sign on my keyboard anymore– haha.) calculator I bought there not more than a week ago had already broken. It is displaying sixes as eights, and eights as eights, so you kind of have to guess whether the number you’re looking at is £600, or £800… a huge difference, let me tell you. (Yes, I was budgeting last night)

I actually walked from my hostel to BUNAC, I didn’t get too lost, it took about an hour and 45 minutes, which is huge considering it’s only a few stops away on the tube, but I got to see the London University Campus, as well, I’m getting more of an idea where things are in this city. It’s amazing how old and new just blend together so easily here. You’ll see some buildings with really contemporary fronts have ancient tops to them. It’s quaint, in a fun kind of way. Londoners seem to be nothing but friendly too, being bitter on my first entry I never mentioned that I never had to carry my huge bag up or down huge flights of stairs, someone was always kind enough to offer. I’m really loving the atmosphere here. I have yet to have anyone comment on my accent, I keep hoping they will.

I’ve met a few people, as I said. Addy from the night before last, the french girl and the hungarian from my hostel, as well last night a woman from Hong Kong was in my room (Addy had left the morning before). Again, I got a chance to try one of my foriegn languages, and I spoke a bit of Japanese with my new Hong Kong friend. All I need is a chance to try my German! I met two people at orientation, Lydia, from the States whom I hung out with for lunch and got my phone with. And Kate, who I hung out with most of the evening, from the States as well. It was a very amusing experience to say the least, we wandered the streets of London for ages then headed out for dinner. I still haven’t gone anywhere too touristy.

Its so hard to remember what I have written here and what’s in my paper journal!

And I got the Mrs. Lovett fanlisting, thanks completely to insert name here, whom I love like no other and shall cling to as soon as I get my flat.

That’s all I really have for right now, apparently comments still aren’t working? I’ll tool around with them more today while I have more time. Love you all!

P.S. Happy Valentines Day — is it really the 14th already?

Well, just to make it completely crystal clear I’m here and I’m completely safe, I’m at BUNAC right now, using my free internet awaiting my orientation, everything that has happened up to now is a bit of a blur, but I’m getting there. The jetlag is starting to wear off, though, oddly, I am craving apple juice like no one’s business. Ahh… Applejuice.

I survived my first night in a hostel, despite the nay sayers who claimed I would be killed in my sleep. It wasn’t that bad, sort of like a dorm room with little-to-no moderation. The people there don’t actually know how to sleep I don’t think, as there were people giggling and carrying on at 12Am as well as 6Am, yikes, not a happy experience. My room mates are very nice, one from France (I tried experimental french with her, though she seemed to under stand I think she was humouring me) as well as someone from the US, and someone from Hungary. The American — Addy — and I were up late talking politics. Go Canada Go!

To my family, I got your e-mail, I called at home and at work and got nothing from you mother. Tsk Tsk Tsk. I’ll likely be getting my cellphone today, so, you’ll have a number to reach me at.

The city of Toronto looks like a bucket of spilt beads at night, and there was a baby crying my whole flight, thank god for the Sweeney Todd soundtrack. I over packed in that my luggage was wayy too heavy, but didn’t as I can’t imagine leaving anything that I brought behind. Fair, and fair alike I suppose.

I hear some people have had trouble commenting on the entries so I’ll try and tweak it so comments are more open, if you still can’t comment let me know asap and I’ll try to fix things again. I have so much more to say, but orientation starts in a few seconds!