Movin' on Up?

                So Thursday last week was a BAD DAY. If you ever decide to pick up everything and move away from everyone and everything you know, you will have many BAD DAYS. I definitely have in the last three months. I mean, everybody keeps living their lives without you, your pets die (which you will never get over, by the way), and then there’s the whole money thing. Oh, the money thing. Being an adult is so hard. Nobody ever tells you that. Well, they do, but you don’t listen. Because you’re taught from everyone from people older than you to your school that you will be successful right away. Guess what? Not the case. Especially when you move to a new country. In Canada, you go to school and then you get a job. That’s how it works. But the UK places emphasis on work experience, not your education. I may have spent 5.5 years in university. I could re-enact the Cold War and have the Soviet Union win. Hell, I could probably have found Bin Laden. But as far as England is concerned, no work experience means no job. It’s been a stressful few months. I’ve had to do work I’ve never wanted to do. I made it twenty-three years without doing such work. But you can’ just sit around doing nothing.

                At the beginning of this month I registered with an agency that specializes in providing admin and reception work. Not great, but not hospitality at least. The interview went well (because I give good interview) and I was super optimistic. They implied that I’d be working every once and awhile, but for a week or two at a time, so I planned on using that money for rent and expenses and my money with my current job (which I would do evenings and weekends) for fun money. As with most things in life, it didn’t pan out like that. I didn’t hear one word from them, even when I tried to contact them. I pretty much gave up all hope and continued my fruitless job hunt.

                The last two weeks were hard. Really hard. I had shifts cancelled left and right. I was always waiting until the last moment before I’d be confirmed for work. I could only depend on one of the operations managers (a perk is being ‘favorited’ by a company or manager so that you can see those shifts and think ‘at least I’m guaranteed some hours this week’). It’s just not fun. You’re looking at your bank account multiple times a day, trying to calculate what you need to get you to the next payday, where most of your money will inevitably go to bills before you even hit Monday. I’d had several stressful days over the last couple weeks, usually caused by cancelled shifts. But on Thursday, it was because I was realizing I was about to get back-to-back tiny paychecks. And you can’t pay rent on tiny paychecks. You can’t save tiny paychecks. I had all these high expectations for myself and I felt like I was falling short on every one. So on Thursday, my mother told me if things didn’t get more regular I may have to come back to Calgary. I would hate that. I would feel like a failure. So just the mention of it got me even more upset. I had to go to work and I was still all emotional the entire way there.

                Then, something crazy happened. I was waiting with my co-workers outside the venue when my phone went off. It was someone from this agency I’d interviewed with a month ago. She told me she was recruiting for a position. It pays more and it’s full-time hours. Unfortunately, it’s also something called ‘temp-to-perm’, which basically means I work week-to-week and maybe one day they’ll offer me a permanent contract. But it’s definitely better than what I’ve been doing and is at least more secure for the time being. The recruiter called back awhile later to tell me they wanted me, and that I would start Monday. This could not have come at a better time, truly. Funny how things work out that way.

                So today I started this job. I was nervous. I barely slept last night. Sarah and I tried to have a relaxing evening yesterday watching Gossip Girl and not thinking about it but it was unavoidable. I had no idea what to expect. It wasn’t like I’d had an interview or anything. I had Googled the company, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, but that doesn’t tell you if the people are going to be nice, or if it’s hard work. I tried to go to bed early but I didn’t fall asleep until at least 1:30am. From there I woke up every hour and tossed and turned all night. I had to be there for 9:30am (usually 9am but because it was my first day I was meant to start later so they’d be set up and ready to go for the day) so I woke up at 6:50am because I overbudget for travel time. I slept in an extra ten minutes and I was still ready to go thirty minutes early. Which I actually liked. I was able to watch some TV and calm myself down a bit before heading out. The night before I went from being fine to getting more and more nervous the later it got. This morning I was nervous but also excited. This was to be my first office job. My first job without a uniform. A totally new experience.

                I arrived at the location half an hour early, as I’d planned. I waited outside the entrance for a bit. I noticed people had to enter a code to get through the gate. At which point, of course, your brain goes ‘oh, crap.’ I had no clue where I was supposed to go so I snuck in behind some people only to find myself in a courtyard with still no idea where to go. I saw a stairwell that people were using keycards to get up. I had no idea what else to do so I called the company. So awkward. Turns out I went through the wrong entrance and one of the employees came out to rescue me. Fortunately, the guy at the desk next to me apparently did the same thing his first day. It’s a logical mistake to make…Screw you, Google Maps.

                The training went fairly well I think and everyone seemed really nice. They all know each other better than they know me, but that’s to be expected. They were still very friendly. I found out most of them started as temps before moving into a permanent position at this company so that bodes well, fingers crossed. It’s weird, working in an office for the first time. I have a desk and a computer. There’s a kitchen. Like, an actual kitchen. With not just a freezer and a microwave but an oven. People literally cook themselves chicken up there for lunch. There’s also a staff room with a TV and books and a guitar (!!!). And you get a lunch break. That lasts an hour. What is this nonsense? I don’t think I’ve ever had an actual lunchbreak. It’s always been more like ‘go cram food down your throat while you have a chance’. And the job is 9:00am to 5:00pm. Like real people! I might actually be able to go out and do stuff!

                I was back home by 6:15pm. It was crazy. Sarah and I went to the library so I could pick up some more books. Then I made us gnocchi for dinner and we sat on the floor (we still don’t have furniture) and watched – you guessed it – Gossip Girl. I actually felt like an adult today. I’m not out of the woods yet, by any means. My current job is by no means assured. I’m still going to be a hobo for at least the next three weeks.  But it’s something and it came along right when I needed something to make me feel better about my life choices. We’ll see how I adjust to this new development.

Flats Flats Flats

                So we’ve ticked getting jobs off of our list and now face one big obstacle: finding a flat. We’ve been hoboing it up on my aunt’s couch for a month and a half and it’s time I start sleeping by myself. The only problem? Finding a flat is really hard and expensive. The BritBound Facebook page frequently has people advertising rooms but it’s never what we want. Either it’s only one room available or you’re sharing with too many people. I kid you not, I saw someone offering a room in a 3-bedroom flat where each room has three girls sleeping there. NINE people in a 3-bedroom flat. I actually am pretty sure that’s illegal.

                We had already toured our dream flat, the one in West Kensington, but it was time to get realistic. Today was the second day of our weekend and we had purposefully set it aside for flat viewing. We saw three places today. The first two we viewed through an agent. The first flat, in Sydenham, was okay. It was a bit old – the furniture looked very worn – and the second bedroom was basically a closet. We moved on to one in Forest Hill. It was a 3-bedroom but the price was ridiculously cheap. This is when we realized that we would not be using an agent. To get a flat through an agent you have to pay £150 each for referencing. Then you pay a £200 holding fee. All this before you even move in, at which point you surrender ten weeks’ rent. We were expecting a deposit but all those extra fees are just ridiculous. Not to mention you have to prove your combined income equals rent times 30. As in, a combined income of 36-39K. It’s ridiculous. There’s only 12 months in a year, why do we need to prove we can pay for two and a half? The second flat was nice-looking but I hated the building. It looked very estate-like and not very homey until you actually got inside. It’s also smack in the middle of two train stations and picturing walking home late at night, I didn’t feel safe.

                We were feeling pretty dejected about the whole thing when we went to our third viewing in Gants Hill. We had found this one through Spareroom (www.spareroom.co.uk), a flat website where you pick your requirements. The rent was ridiculously cheap but the flat is quite far out of the city: in zone 4 (we were hoping for zones 1-3). The road it is situated on is quite nice. I could definitely picture myself walking it late at night and not worrying about getting raped and murdered. It’s also about five minutes from the tube station. The night bus is excellent, with stops through all the major points of central London. Did I mention the rent is cheap? It’s furnished and two-bedroomed, like we wanted. We would need to buy a couch and a TV but we’re saving so much money it doesn’t matter. It looks like that might be what we do. I just have to find out what the utilities cost and then we’ll give them permission to reference us. Hopefully we don’t get screwed there. We still can’t make times 30 (we’re more like times 28) but I’m going to hope for the best. Who knows? I could have my own flat in the next week or two!

Escape From the Science Museum

         “Crowds prevent you to see the infinite horizons; get rid of the crowds and open your horizons.” - Mehmet Murat Ildan 

       Saturday was meant to be museum day but it turned out to be more of a ‘let’s hide inside’ day. We had the best intentions. We were going to visit the Science Museum and Victoria & Albert Museum before spending the evening doing the usual (watching movies). It took us awhile to actually put pants on this morning and get moving and by that point we were starving, so we walked to Wetherspoon’s and had another one of those delicious veggie burgers. And some badly mixed purple drank.

                We hopped on the train after lunch and made our way to Kensington to go to the Science Museum (http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/). This was more a visit for Sarah rather than me, because she loves science and I dropped that subject the second I had a chance. I had heard, however, that the Science Museum was supposed to be amazing and a must-see London attraction. We were both very, very disappointed.

                To begin (and this part is our fault), we didn’t really think about the fact that it was a weekend and that would mean loads of tourists and locals and children until we were already on the train. They were a pain in the butt. We both were very murderous by the end of the day. People stopping their strollers in the middle of busy walkways, people trying to figure out which ticket reader to go through (hint: it’s any of the ones with the green lights, like the one RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU), screaming babies who’s mothers are ignoring them and our personal favorite: the giant family complete with stroller who wouldn’t let us get off before they got on and we almost were trapped on the train forever. Seriously, that was really annoying. Letting people off before you get on is A) common sense and B) there are signs. But yeah, the crowds of stupid people were pretty much our fault. We should have known better.

                The Science Museum has no excuse, though. I could understand me not liking it, because I really don’t like science. But Sarah? This should have been her museum and she was arguably more disappointed than me. First, they say the museum is free but they make you walk by these people who look like ticket sellers and ask you if you want to donate money (as if all the Suggested Donation £5 signs didn’t give us a hint). I don’t mind donation boxes but they should really be done better. At some of the art galleries they just leave boxes in some of the rooms so it’s entirely up to you whether you donate. This felt forced and judged. We really didn’t want to give £5 but we each gave £2 and even that felt like a ripoff. The whole museum was just blah. It’s sad when I’ll admit the engineering gallery was the most interesting. There’s also space. That’s the first floor. There are three more but it’s really like Science for Dummies. There’s some interactive stations we couldn’t even get close to because of the massive amount of children but even the exhibits were just so lacking. We probably spent less than an hour inside. We want our donation back. The most exciting part of the entire experience was trying to escape, which took forever because of the people and the fact there’s only one real exit and we didn’t want to set off an alarm.

                Our initial plan was to head to the Victoria & Albert Museum but we knew it would be crowded and even if it wasn’t, there were signs all around the tube station cautioning that it gets crazy once the museums close. Riding a crowded train for an hour? I’ll pass. So we ultimately decided to check it out during the week when everyone is gone and headed back to the flat where we watched movies and ate pizza. We are super exciting people.

London Day Zero

“If you were born without wings, do nothing to prevent them from growing.” - Coco Chanel 

    So I’m writing this from London! I made it at long last! I left on Tuesday, April 1^st. Of course, I had a mad dash with my luggage. Everything suddenly became overweight. I ended up leaving some stuff behind – pants, a jacket, a hoodie, etc. I also ended up forgetting some stuff, like my computer mouse, camera, and a pair of shoes. Oh well. It happens. I got to the airport three hours early. It wasn’t necessary because the entire airport was totally dead. Sarah and I hung out with our families and friends and at 8:30 (our flight left at 10:00) we went through security. It was pretty sad saying goodbye. Sarah and I were both travelling with lots of medication so we figured one of us would get dinged at security. Sure enough, Sarah was, but it was because she didn’t separate her laptop from the rest of her stuff. I love random ironies like that.

                We grabbed some drinks and spinach dip at Chili’s while we waited for our flight to board, which occurred shortly after 9:00pm. We were flying British Airways (www.britishairways.com) and if you ever fly them you should totally get their rewards card. We got 4300 points each for our flight from Calgary to London. We can pretty much fly anywhere in Europe for free. A few flights more like that and we can actually fly home for free. It’s awesome. Anyways, I had a carry on suitcase but I guess it was too big (it wasn’t). It wasn’t really a big deal. At that point they couldn’t charge me to check it and I was allowed to take my medication and laptop out before they took it.

                On the plane Sarah and I were at the back of the bus. There was a lot of empty seats which was nice. I hate crowded flights. It was a weekday flight so it was mostly businessmen and one family. Apparently the back is where they put the young ones because it was the two of us, and a guy who looked like Opie from Sons of Anarchy across the aisle. The male flight attendant decided to have fun with us. Sarah and I are both children on airplanes and we were both hyper so of course we were being super obnoxious. When the drinks cart came around I asked for a glass of wine. I don’t sleep well on planes and on my last flight to England I found it helped. Well, they don’t serve glasses they serve quarter-bottles. Sarah gets the same. A few minutes later the flight attendant sets down another set of bottles, saying nothing. We found this amusing. We drank one of our quarter-bottles and saved the other one for dinner. He chastised us for taking so long. Unbeknownst to us he was doing the same thing with the guy across the aisle, except with Heineken. Dinner was served – along with a third bottle. Before we finished dinner he brought us another one. Then it was midnight and I guess they can’t serve alcohol after then. Probably for the best. We both slept good, at least. The meal was decent, for plane food. I had some penne which was pretty tasty and a roll which was less so. Sarah had beef and something that we think is potato. We both watched The Hunger Games: Catching Fire and then went to sleep. I only slept for about two hours so I put on Rush and dozed in and out for awhile. British Airways has an awesome entertainment system. Basically every new release for the last two months. I didn’t see a lot of the television choices but they seemed equally extensive. I watched a couple episodes of Modern Family and embarrassed Sarah by laughing out loud. Sorry but that show is hilarious.

                After a nine hour flight we landed at Heathrow airport a little early. There was a bit of a lineup at customs but not too bad – maybe fifteen minutes. We were surprised to find we were supposed to go through customs together because we were travelling together. In the past when I’ve travelled elsewhere you’ve always gone up with anyone you’re related to. It ended up being a good thing because at this point Sarah was not looking/feeling too hot so I was able to answer most of the questions. It was pretty simple, surprisingly. She asked what visa we were on, how long we were staying, if this was our first entry and what type of work were we hoping to find. She also asked Sarah if she was feeling okay. Oops. Getting our luggage was no problem and within moments we were officially in London.

                We are spending the next few weeks at my aunt’s flat which is quite far from Heathrow – about ninety minutes by train. We both had two suitcases and a carry-on so taking the train was just not going to happen. A few days before we flew out a booked a minicab on www.greentomatocars.com. They give you the price outright and are apparently cheaper than black cabs as they do not run on a meter. They even come in to the airport to meet you with a sign. Our flight was early so we weren’t sure what that meant. I had originally requested the cab pick us up sixty minutes after landing, which would have been 3:00pm. As soon as we left the luggage area, however, I received a text message saying they had dispatched the driver. Five minutes later they said the car had arrived. They even gave us the driver’s mobile number! We had a bit of difficulty finding him but that’s just because we’re stupid. He was really nice and took our five million suitcases to his car. It was a very long drive but there was free wifi which was so handy! I have an iphone so I was able to text my family and friends that I had arrived safely, as well as check Facebook and just diddle around on the internet. Sarah slept.

                When we arrived at my aunt’s flat she gave us the tour. We were both feeling better and the three of us walked to a pub called Wetherspoon (www.jdwetherspoons.co.uk). I love their Caesar salad. You can add bacon to it now. I also got their garlic ciabatta bread with cheese (flying makes me hungry, ok?). Sarah decided to go full English and get bangers and mash. Apparently they were just ok, but I would never eat that anyway. The three of us split the greatest thing on the menu: a pitcher of purple rain. Sandra and I discovered it three years ago and were obsessed with it. It’s Sourz Cherry, blue curaco or whatever that stuff is called, and lemonade. It’s delicious.

                We got back to the flat around 7:30 around which time my exhaustion kicked in and I died. And thus, my first day in London was over.

“To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan and not quite enough time.”   ― Leonard Bernstein

       Getting ready for a trip can be exciting but you will probably have an emotional breakdown in the days leading up to it – maybe even more. I’ve had two in the last week. Yes, with the delays in getting my visa back I had more time. But I’m a procrastinator. While I’ve been mostly packed for the last few weeks there’s many little things I’ve left to the last minute: cleaning my room, cleaning my car, etc. Even if you don’t realize it, you’re stressed. On top of that, everyone wants to see you. I’ve been out every night for the last month, just about. The earliest I’ve gotten home was 10:30pm and that was once. There’s been four 4am nights in the last week – and I never sleep past 10am. So you’re exhausted. Then there’s all the goodbyes you’ll be saying. I said goodbye to my boss of five and a half years yesterday and we both cried. It happens, especially with people you’ve known forever.

All of this leads to you getting really rundown. And then something happens. My phone decided to stop working yesterday, mere days before I’m due to leave. And me, being stressed and both physically and emotionally exhausted, completely lost it. You would think somebody died the way I was carrying on. But I had just gotten the phone unlocked and now I have to get a brand new one and unlock it again. Why can’t everything be free?

It’s important to just keep yourself calm. Or you can do what I did (I don't recommend this) and lay on your couch crying and watching Romeo & Juliet. This isn’t a perfect world. Did I really think I was going to have a stress-free final month in Calgary? I’m trying to continue seeing my friends for the last time, even though I’m exhausted. I’m still going to their birthdays and dinners, even though I need all the money I can get. Because I won’t be home for two years, minus a few days here and there. I have to make the most of it.