Empty Cage

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)

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.

Sorry the details of Paris have taken so long!

To all the people who have been to Paris and not been to Pere Lachaise you really did miss the very best part of Paris. Fifteen minutes out of the way was completely worth it. But let me start from the top, shall I? I left for Saturday evening, the bus was packed actually. Amusingly enough, the guys beside me were a group of Canadian backpackers. I talked for a lot of the 10 hour trip with one of them, just about Candianisms and stuff… he kept falling asleep on me and I kept poking him awake, it was rather amusing. As he left he gave me a big west coast hug and said maybe he’d see me in Paris, I said I doubted it, and we parted, I didn’t get his name or anything and so that ended that.

It’s funny how ‘Canadian’ you become when you get over here — I’m hardly an overly enthusiastic nationalist, but I’ve been stopping just shy of singing the national anthem in the street (en anglais et francais!) since being in Europe. My french served me surprisingly well considering how terrible I thought I was. So, after I got to my hostel, I dumped my bags and went straight to Pere Lachaise. It was about 7 o’clock in the morning local time, so there was quite literally no one there. I saw Sarah Bernhardt which was completely unexpected (my grandmother used to compare me to her, so that was very touching), I also saw Chopin (not reeeeally that exciting for me because I’m not a huge classical music buff, but I guess it’s pretty impressive all things considered) Next was Jim, of course, he’s tucked in behind a number of bigger monuments so I had a lot of trouble finding him… however there is a large temporary fence around him, on top of the plot was flowers, cigarettes, questionable looking substances and pictures. The inscription on his headstone is the latin translation of ‘True to his own spirit.’ When I read it I really did hope someone would think to write something like that on my headstone, moreover, I want something like that to be true of me. Jim’s grave, a journey I definitely needed to make.

Oscar Wilde was pretty awesome too, his grave was covered in bright lipstick kisses, mostly from gentlemen I’m sure. I adore Oscar, and the whole visit made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. After I visited him I just toured the cemetery, and it was amazingly stunning, all old and cryptic, but beautiful as well, I felt inspired to write but couldn’t come up with any words once I found my journal. From there I did “the rest of Paris in thirty seconds” The Eiffel Tower, the Arc d’Triomph, and Notre Dame being a majority of my hit list. The poor people were VERY aggressive so I did these places quickly because I wasn’t in the mood for being hassled. The tower wasn’t as epic as I had thought! But the arc was beautiful, and so was Notre Dame, I definitely like English architecture better… ehehe.

I went back to my room and met the incredibly sweet room mate Hallie from Mississippi. Great to talk to, we shared THE BEST CHOCOLATE ON EARTH. 70% Dark Chocolate and Raspberry. I could have bought a case of the stuff. I really liked Hallie, she was in a similar position as I was last year (if I had gone to France, that is) kind of at a loss for the infamous ‘what happens next?’ I’m hardly one to give anyone advice but I like to think I’m at the very least an example of options. Apparently you don’t just have to go to school. We had an Austrian girl in the room too, the three of us when out for drinks with some of Austrian girl’s guy friends, it was fun, the language barrier led to some hysterical conversations and of the seven of us I was the only one who spoke even a word of French. I had a Cappuchino and Hallie had one beer while our Austrian friends got wasted, their English got more and more strained as the evening continued.

The next day I went to Versailles, which, wouldn’t you know it, was closed on Monday. Yes, the whole Palace was completely closed, and under contruction. I did get a chance to wander the grounds without anyone there though. The fountains were off and it was a bit cold, I did the Louvre instead.

I took a lot of pictures of paintings and things. Things like the portrait of the princes in the tower, Joan of Arc and Napoleon of course! Actually, I started laughing like an idiot in front of a painting of the battle of Thermopolae, all of the Spartans are nude, and I thought to myself “And people thought they were under dressed in the movies!” I saw the crowd surrounding the Mona Lisa and maybe caught a glimpse of the tiny little painting it’s self. It’s far less impressive than expected I also saw the Venus de Milo. Though to be honest I would have preferred to visit a more history-centred museum than an art one… plus I couldn’t read any of the museum cards!

The next day I went to Versailles again to actually see Versailles. I took the wrong train, or at least, a train that took me to the wrong Versailles and ended up spending an hour and change on transit to Versailles. However that turned into a real blessing in disguise, as the the incredibly huge line up. I met two Americans studying in Vienna, they were amazingly nice and I spent the evening with them. Versailles, I eventually decided I would have been hard pressed to make leave if there were a fraction of the people there as it stood, I was a bit uncomfortable with the whole thing because of the legions around.

After Versailles my Vienna friends and I wandered Paris, I was actually able to translate the menu! And I could even speak relatively decent french! They wanted to go clubbing afterwards, but we didn’t find anything really, and I had to leave on an 11 o’clock bus back to London, so we parted ways.

The bus ride to London was long (obviously) but I did see some signs off to Vimy, and I got to ride the Ferry! I even saw the white cliffs of Dover! They really are white!

I also started my job, it’s incredibly boring of course, but it’s only for a few weeks, and hopefully I’ll find a new job while I have this one.

I also got two amazing books I’ll review soon. Grotesque and the Black Swan.

I have some abstract stuff I really want to write about right now, but I’m feeling a bit tired… maybe tomorrow!

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!

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.

I know it’s really only been a few days and that I shouldn’t have ever expected this to be easy and all of that lovely stuff, but I cannot help but be depressed at the fact that, holycrap I have no stinking job. I’ve been sort of gradually e-mailing my resume (CV) around but finding an hourly rather than a salaried job is a lot harder than I had hoped. I just want to be working so I can get my stuff in order and move out of the hostel. Bah! While I intend to stay at ISH tonight (and hopefully tomorrow night) I’m going to book Sunday, Monday, and think about booking Tuesday at YHA York, from there I’m going to apply for some jobs obviously, in York. I’d rather not live in London if I can help it — everything costs a fortune! I was thinking of going to Manchester or Liverpool, but the hostels there were amazingly expensive or booked. I’ll visit there at some point, I’m going to have to break into my dollars reserve soon, which is a bit heartbreaking. Alternatively, I may stay in London and hold until I get my first interview. I don’t know — I’m feeling conflicted right now. Is it easier to voyage a bit, or to stay put, afterall, I do have a couple thousand kilos of luggage which I have to keep in mind. I’ll book another night at ISH I think, and then decide over the next few days.

I opened my bank account and activated my phone properly yesterday, so, calling to Canada costs me a tidy 5p a minute, making it 10 cents a minute. The cheapest distance plan I could find, and so I called Andrew, and home last night. It was so great to hear my three boys again! I miss them like crazy. Yesterday was similar to the day before, I went to BUNAC, I applied for a few jobs Kate and I wandered London, I went to the hostel and tried to sleep.

Actually, rather than sleep I watched ‘From Hell’ on Syd until my frenchroom mate came back to sleep. It was nice though, sitting there watching a movie and finishing off some of my plane treats. Finally, a relaxed evening even if I am stressing out about everything I still need to do. I think today I’m going to throw job hunting to the wind a bit and go to the British Museum, it’s open until 8 and has free admission, maybe I’ll get some good old fashioned fish and chips before I head in. I’ve eaten mostly sandwiches since I got here because they are cheap, but maybe splurging a bit on food will lift some of the OVERWHELMINGANGST. It’s not been that bad, I just want the security of knowing I’ll have an income soon.

So! This is what I’m going to do today, first, I’m going to apply for a few more jobs (new jobs on the board every day, it’s worth a try, even if I haven’t got a single reply yet), then, I’m going back to ISH and booking another day or two in case this York trip falls through. I can get my money back from them. From there, I’ll get me some fish and chips and hit the museum (I have to admit I’m really excited about this museum thing!) Then I will head back to the hostel and sleep, rise repeat for the next few days.

As a reply to my comments:

Amber, I am having a good time, see e-mails of love for details, however I hope my resume does not let me down, I would be very sad being the London panhandler! Maybe if I started a pie shop…

Melissa, I’m not sure if Staples misses me, how’s the new kid’s ESP rating? Or have they ESP slapped him yet? I think I had a three week grace period before I got ESP’d! And has Michelle taken down my dramatic closing ’10 Things I learned at Staples 304′ because I always assumed she would… The hostel is nothing fancy, but clean, which according to Kate makes a huge difference. Some of the chaps here are nice looking but they are mostly pretty average.

EMMADAWN!, I miss you lots, I still can’t believe it either if that helps anything… I cannot believe that I am writing this not at home, but in London, England. It’s really hard to fathom– alone, London, five-to-six months, ack! Once I have a flat I pretty much demand that you visit me, even if it costs all the money you’ve ever made I like to think my loving devotion is worth it. And as for the bloke, will do! P.S. I cannot actually comment on your facebook profile, know why? Because the word b-o-m-b is used on it, which is a screened word on the BUNAC internets. XD