Empty Cage

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.

I woke up this morning and there was a small finch-like bird fluttering around the house. Now I hate netspeak and all the but surprisingly I could practically feel the thought bubble burst above my head.

“WTF?”

It took me a clean hour to convince the little thing the door was open… I imagine it had probably fluttered into the glass desperately a number of times already. I just want to know when it got in… it was either when Mike left for work this morning or had been in overnight!

I’m booking my ticket to France for tomorrow because the agency just called because they forgot to mention I have orientation for this new job on Thursday. Gee, what a bloody thing to forget. Anyways, I’m still going to France and trying to come up with somewhere else to go over easter. Maybe Edinburgh. As much as I wanted to throw the phone at a wall I think I was very mature about having to completely shift my trip due to a bit of a stupid mistake on their part. And maybe I’ll get to see another new place (or old place that I love) thanks to this largely unplanned break in the trip. Maybe even somewhere closer like Oxford or something. I’ll be paid for the orientation, so I can’t complain too much.

Uhm, in other news, I talked on the phone to Terri last night, and it was pretty much awesome. I’ll probably call Ange or Stacey tonight, because I’m not racking up roaming charges on my phone by calling people from France. Sorry guys, you aren’t worth that much to me after all! Bahahahahahahahah~~! I kid, I kid, but roaming charges means I cannot afford to bring anyone British Sweets, so choose your battles wisely.

Other then that– anyone who has any suggestions as to where to go for Easter send me a Comment… and don’t say Isle of Wight, I hear the place is booked solid, the whole island, during Easter.

The first thing you will notice about employment agencies is that absolutely everyone is so painfully cheerful that it’s scary. I mean, the agency is cheerful to impress the client, the people looking for jobs are cheerful to impress the agency and the agencies clients are cheerful because they know that for a small fee they are on top in this particular establishment. Everyone smiles constantly, post-agency-face-pain is likely a common side effect of being in too many of these places. I’m surprised how amazingly few hospitals there are in Oxford Circus to accomodate for this.

Okay, so I’m registered at the agency, the smiling agent would like me to know that with my skill set I should be looking at a job before the end of the week. I hope she didn’t take the twitching eye of smiling discomfort as me being an escaped lunatic. I snuck a look at her notes on me as she left for a glass of water. She wrote me a rave review, fooled another one Daddy! I type 46 words per minute apparently, that is when I’m copying out a passage about American commutes, which I pretty much fell asleep while typing. I also, for those who have never had the pleasure of watching me type, only use two fingers (well, and one on my let hand to press shift). She that’s mighty impressive.

The other day (Friday, I am tempted to say…) Mike and I headed to the V&A (Victoria & Albert) Museum, which is a pretty amazing little museum, it’s stuffed full of interesting, but less famous items. Like, you won’t find the Rosetta Stone, but you will find some amazing Renaissance artefacts, the Medici are not mentioned very much though(!) Are they a Zimmer hyperbole(!)? Regardless, Mike finally learned the true extent of my museum addiction and cut me off before I got too carried away, and showed me Hyde Park (Yes, I did think of Sweeney, so shoot me) From there we headed back to Milton Keynes. I highly reccomend V&A I neglected to mention, it’s a low key museum with a lot of sculptures, and everyone except me seemed to be running through it which was disappointing because there was a lot of cool stuff.

I have finally experienced British rain, this is the first I have been out in the rain since coming here believe it or not. And, of course, the only day I did not pack an umbrella in my purse, which I’m considering upgrading to something bigger once this job thing hopefully pulls through. I can’t fit anything in it.

One thing I am going to start kicking people about is my friends and replying to my entries… all my mom’s friends, and my friend’s parents are replying, but none of my chums seem to be able to find it in their hearts to reply to me. So, loves, expect some nasty e-mails involving ‘Comment on my posts or die<3′ To the parents replying to my blog I thank you… at least I know some people love me.

And to commenter:

Crystal<3 I hope Sweeney and Jack join me, we can dance around in happy hippie circles until the sky goes out. You should come down and visit, by now I feel like a regular Londoner. Love! No, you see the trouble with poet is how do you know it’s deceased — Try the priest!

As the title suggests, I should be well on my way to the city by now, but before I go I want to write a quick blog. I have been terrible for getting them out lately because in my overwhelming ANGST!: The Musical (My favourite injoke of all time apparently) the days have all blended into an intermeshing superday.

So, what’s new? Well, I applied for the most amazing job ever that I would have been perfect for… but by the time I got to it it was filled beginning the theme known as ‘my luck’. I’ve never considered myself particularly unlucky before, and maybe I’m only unlucky in the UK. Regardless, the bitter optimism is forcing me to be cheerful, I am not going to hate this trip — damnit!

The perfect job was at the bookstore at Westminster Abbey, and the lady I spoke to was incredibly nice, she said some of their hires would be leaving at the end of March. A running theme, I’ll have ten jobs once April rolls around. I’m reeeeally disappointed about missing out, but I’m keeping with my optimistic theme by saying maybe I’ll get a call April second (not April first, I wouldn’t be able to take it if it was April first) and work the rest of my term at Westminster.

To add to my employment luck, I got another few e-mails with ‘the position is filled’ and one e-mail with ‘Please call me!’ I’m thinking ‘Yes, finally someone appreciates my talents!’ Only to find both numbers provided are not in service temporarily. This is just getting hysterical. If I don’t laugh I’m just going to burst into tears, so I’m laughing.

I finally got out to see some of the sights the other night. It was late and I was on the phone with my Pangeous friend and I decided to wander back to Trafalgar Square (Have I mentioned I love that word? Trafalgar, sounds so epic and archaic, I love it!) From there I wandered down to the Parliament buildings and over to Westminster Abbey. It’s amazing seeing the sights at night.

And for the very first time I was glad I didn’t have a camera. (I think I told Ange this on the phone). Last time I was here it was like looking at the sights in a book because it was always through my camera that I saw anything. I never really looked at and admired all the things I was seeing. I mean, holy crow, for those of you who have seen Big Ben and Lord Nelson all lit up at night laa-dee-dah to you. But to those who haven’t, it’s something amazingly breathtaking. There you are standing in front of something so old and so beautiful, Ange and I listenined to the clock strike 9 before we decided to end our chat.

Big Ben gets this brilliant orange glow to it, and all the shadows cast on it emphasize how imposingly and elegant it is, you almost feel guilty looking at it, as though it is very stern and unhappy to be caught awake at such an hour. Elegant, as I’ve probably thought a hundred thousand times is the best way to invision it.

And Lord Nelson in Trafalgar Square seems to just glow in the dark. I want to know how they light him up like that, he’s so high off the ground! Something very imperial about the lions at night too, I’m reminded of some Jim Morrison Lyrics:

Lions in the street and roaming 

Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming 

A beast caged in the heart of a city 

The body of his mother 

Rotting in the summer ground. 

He fled the town. 

He went down South and crossed the border 

Left the chaos and disorder 

Back there over his shoulder.  

One morning he awoke in a green hotel 

With a strange creature groaning beside him. 

Sweat oozed from its shiny skin.  

Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin. 

I don’t really know why. Probably the first and last lines only, or a Beast Caged in the Heart of the city… That’s me. However, it’s what I thought to myself as I looked at the huge lions at the feet of Nelson. The Abbey is a bit of a sore spot I’ll describe later.

So, there you go, what I’ve done so far. Actually, while I was typing that sentence a recruitment agensy called me back, they may have a few jobs I can do. Isn’t lovely how forced optimism really works. It looks like a grimace but I assume you, it is a smile. I’ll be doing stuff ‘Similar to COIP’ Smile. It’s a job. Shut up and smile. Maybe until Westminster calls and asks where I’ve been all their life. Anyways, tons of love, I’m sending out post cards tomorrow, so e-mail me your addesses everyone or you won’t get one!

To the commenters of this entry and the last one:

To Crystal, now it’s not just Sweeney and Jack the Ripper I have to fear, it’s Youtube abusers D=

To Amber, isn’t that link awesometastic? It kept me amused for ages!

To Mom, I will, I will I promise I will!

To Ange, I totally should as it would be friggan awesome! Do your essay! Ahahahahah! Call you again soon because that was wicked awesome talking to you <3

The reason for the lack of updates is a simple one. I have been doing absolutely nothing interesting. I know that sounds like a bit of a cop-out but it’s absolutely true. I’ll try to sum up some of the high points over the last few days to keep people at least semi-interested. I haven’t even been writing in my own journal though, so that should tell you something.

Currently I’m living with Mike Powers in Milton Keynes, a town outside of London, it is the most ‘North American’ feeling place I’ve been since I’ve gotten here, the roads even have a semi-logical order! I have been walking around the area a lot and cannot pretend that it really reminds me of home. While Mike was showing me around we did a treetop walk and ‘the best fish and chips in southern England’. Other than that it had been nothing but sleep and resumes/CVs and therefore really boring. I’m going to Charing Cross Road “the book district’ tomorrow so hopefully some jobs pop up by Friday. Mike Britishized my resume it’s amazing how little of what I’m done translates directly into Brit.

So, yes, I really have little to blog about right now, hahah. I’ve only talked to parents, Andrew, and Terri since I’ve gotten here despite my kickass cellphone plan, so if anyone wants me to call them it’s always nice to chat with people without crazy accents.

To my commenters:

To mom, laundry was not bad, in fact, it was decidedly dull. I had been expecting satan’s torment from the way people speak of it. As for the weather, yes, it is more spring than not, and I’ve heard about the snow there and I laugh at you all.

To Mike, thanks so much for stopping by to leave me a comment. I hope Jeff is having a good time on his voyages– though I can’t rub in anyone’s face how much nicer the weather is here because I’m sure he’ll one-up me.

To Harvey (Thomas that is), I am having a good time the museums here are about a hundred times better than any museum that I’ve seen in Canada so far, I’m determined to haunt at least one of them. My next destination will be Liverpool/Manchester I think, hopefully the first vacation from my job! The only intense British food I’ve eaten so far was when I was in Whitby I had some Yorkshire Steak and Ale Pie, it was very good, but I was a bit sick the next day, I’d have it again but be very wary. And Pineapple Fritters, which aren’t too bad, a bit too sweet for me though!

To Harvey (This time to Dana), I do understand laziness and the way it prevents typing as you can see by the distance between this entry and the last one. The library pretty much owned, and, as with everything here, I’ve only scratched the surface. The original Beatles lyrics I was tempted to simply bow to, it only seemed right. As for Across the Universe I actually worked on that at Andy Malcolms (cool, huh?) I would not say no to sexy Jude popping over to sing Strawberry Fields Forever with me. I know I’m your hero, after all I got all 150 Pokemon.

Title is a Beatles song quote that has been stuck in my head all day.

Only a short entry today as I didn’t really do too much. I spent most of the day at the British Library, and you would not believe some of the books that I saw there, you would faint with amazement — I almost did.

Let’s see, I saw one of the original copies of the Magna Carta, the originally hand-written hand-drawn copy of Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, a Bible from the Gutenberg press, along with a hundred other beautifully illuminated religious documents, a letter handwritten by Oscar Wilde, a satirical piece written by Jane Austen at 15, some original Beatles lyrics written on paper scraps and a couple hundred other pieces of amazing literary artifacts I can’t even remember them all. The library was massive and I had a heavy bag so I didn’t do too much wandering, but it’s just one more place I positively NEED to go back to.

I am now at the abode of Mr. Powers, having my own room is making me positively glow with glee, and my own bathroom. Overjoyed cannot begin to describe it really. Happiness, elation, I’m just typing in fragmented words today, probably because I’m so tired. Not tired for any reason mind you, just, tired. Tomorrow I will finally get to do laundry! How I miss clean clothing.

Picnic of leftover chicken wings in Regent’s Park first thing this morning, I felt a bit guilty as the joggers gave me the evil eye junk food temptation sitting on a random bench. Why the heck not? I couldn’t believe that I survived.

To the commenteers:

To Mom, as I said, it got cancelled due to lack of intrest. I was very disappointed I have to admit. I’ve decided my new compromise is I’ll work wherever and volenteer at a museum–the British museum is always looking for them apparently.

To Amber, DANKE! I’m so happy about the acceptance really! It means next year I’m going to be getting edumicated, and not work at Sie (ge)Staples, ja! I will be on AIM soon, I promise >.<

To Crystal, comment more lav, or I’ll set Sweeney on thee!

To Janet, I try to be of service, and thank you for all the congratulating, hopefully I really fufill the second congratulation. Osmosis flowering may be a steady bet, and yes, just being here and lugging stuff all over London is a fulltime job.

To Auntie Mo, thank you for commenting, reading comments feels like my pillar in many ways, I see that people love me even if I’m away on some crazy island.

And to Ange, wherever you are, try to comment again, ja?