Leaving London

Izzi just phoned me and it was so wonderful to hear her voice (and Timmy's in the background). It reminded me that I am way, way overdue for a blog update! I shall now attempt to summarize the past two weeks of parties, goodbyes, tears, and new friends. Actually, I think I'll break it into two parts: Leaving, and Arriving.

So. Two Thursdays ago, I packed up most of my worldly possessions (the ones in the UK, anyway), loaded them into a minicab, and took them to south London to my coworker, Corrado's, flat. Corrado and his girlfriend and 2-year-old daughter are/were also moving up to Edinburgh, and offered to let me share their delivery van. So my stuff moved up to Scotland a week ahead of me. I had my "leaving London" goodbye drinks the next day. Lots of wonderful people came, and I had a really nice time. Alex N. gave me a beer pong kit, Maggie bought me two shots (not sure how grateful I am for that), and Izzi tried to throw me in a planter. I did deserve it, though, as I had threatened to replace her and Tim with Corrado and his girlfriend. After everyone headed home, Tisobel and I stayed at the bar for a bottle of prosecco. I can't remember if anything even set me off, but I started crying right there at the bar, surrounded by strangers. But then I pulled myself together and we danced like loons, then "walked," or rather, lurched and meandered back to their flat. Work the next morning was slightly painful, but alas, it was worth it.

Anna and Mel at going-away drinks

I had the day off on Monday, so managed to have lunch with Maggie, tea with Holly, tea with Anna, and then rush off to dinner with Tisobel. Izzi wasn't feeling well but she made me dinner anyway because she loves me that much. Maggie works for a Member of Parliament, so lunch was in the cafeteria at the Houses of Parliament. AWESOME! That means that I got to take a long last look at Big Ben before leaving London. Then, as I was leaving Tisobel's after dinner, I heard a clock chiming. I asked where it was coming from, and they said it was Big Ben! In all the times I've been to their flat, I've never heard Big Ben chiming. He was putting on a special show for my last week, clearly.

On Tuesday, I hung out with James. We went to a weird but cool vegan buffet restaurant in Soho. He gave me a booklet of poems about London just in case I miss the city. Wednesday was my last day at work, so I had after-work drinks with a few girls. Alex N. came along as well, and Carina's friend, Tom. Tom gave me contact details for a friend of his in Edinburgh so that I could contact her if I got lonely.

Thursday was my last day in London. I went to work to say a goodbye to Anna (and also see if there was anything good in the sale), then had to rush back home to check out of my room and get my deposit back. This took longer than I thought, as I had to peel a large sticker off my wall which didn't end up coming off, so I had to go tell my landlady that I'd ruined the paint job. She was very stern, and then took £5 off my deposit for it. She also waived some of the rent that I still owed her. What a sweetheart! Then I rushed off for dinner with my bessies (minus Tisobel cuz Timmy was sick, and minus Tanya and Alex, who are out of the country): Carina, Holly, and Aparna.

Carina likes affection even less than I do

After dinner, I wanted to drop by Tisobel's for one last "see you later," but Tim was heading to bed. I decided to be completely selfish and go anyway. I parted with the girls, lastly Holly, which was a bit hard. When we walked away from each other, she had the most melancholy look on her face, it broke my heart. It still makes me tear up to think about it. She looked like a puppy I had just told to go away and leave me alone.

Ugh, this is really hard. Okay, pull yourself together.

I got on the bus to go to Tim and Izzi's. On the way there, I realized that maybe Izzi was going to bed as well, and maybe their light would be out when I got there. I imagined myself just leaving their gift on the doorstep and slinking away into the night, broken-hearted. Then I started to cry on the bus. As I walked toward their flat, swallowing tears, a man further up the sidewalk was singing opera. It was so beautiful and poignant, London showing me the best she could offer. And then I was approaching the flat, and the light was still on, and Izzi answered the door and I was so happy, I forgot I'd been on the verge of tears moments before. We had a lovely cup of tea while sick Timmy slept, and then I said good night and left.

Sad Izzi

I was fine as we parted, but as I walked away, I started crying again. I choked back tears all the way back to Leytonstone, but then the fresh air must have cured me because I felt better as I walked home. Aparna was up waiting for me. She's such a treasure. I feel like a cheesy weirdo for using that word, but I can't think of another to describe her. She has been so good to me these past few months, offering me a home, making me dinners, giving me advice, throwing me a surprise birthday dinner. She even woke up at 5am to see me off. She's the best flatmate I could ever hope for and I love her dearly.

Best flatmate ever (plus Carina giving bunny ears)

If I didn't feel so good about being in Edinburgh, if I didn't feel like it was the right thing for me right now, I never would have survived leaving these wonderful people. I also know I will be back soon for visits! I plan to see Carina in Switzerland for her birthday, Holly's family has a cricket match on the farm in July, and I've promised everyone that I'll bring Becky and John down to London when they visit me this summer. Yay!

News

I met the woman who will be my new store manager the other day. She is super nice and has high standards and lots of pet peeves, so I'm really excited about working with her. I still don't have a leaving date, or a flat, but time is running out so I really need to nail down some details.

Yesterday, I met up with Holly and tried out the "Boris Bikes" for the first time. Boris Johnson is the crazy, wild-haired Mayor of London. He's a cycling enthusiast and brought a rent-a-bike scheme to London last summer. It's pretty cool. You pay £1 for 24 hours of access (or you can buy an annual membership for, I think, £50), then every half hour is free. If you just dock your bike every 30 min and take out a new one, you never pay more than the £1 day-fee. The bikes are a bit heavy and only have 3 speeds, but they're a pretty good ride. In the evening, Izzi and Tim fed me roast chicken and baked potato. Yum!

Yesterday's big news was the capture and killing of Osama bin Laden by US Navy Seals. I feel like so much surrounding this news is unknown. They've apparently confirmed it was him by DNA testing, but where did the US get a past sample of bin Laden's DNA? And of course it remains to be seen how people will react to the news, though it doesn't sound like there's been a huge backlash just yet, so that's good. I'm glad Pakistan has so far reacted well to the news.

I had to work on the day of the Royal Wedding, but we all huddled around the laptop behind the tills and gave each other updates throughout the day. During my lunch break, I headed down the road to a place where there was a giant TV screen broadcasting live footage. I was just in time for the balcony kiss, which I have to say, was pretty anticlimactic. But then there was the Royal Air Force flyover, and the planes flew over us in the square about 10 seconds after flying over the palace, so that was pretty exciting. Everyone cheered. I think if I ever get married, I'll have to have a flyover, because it feels like nothing is really official until some fighter jets have flown over your head.

Visiting the UK Feb: The Cotswolds

I just realized I never blogged about my February UK visit. I was sure that I had, but can't find any evidence of it. Anyhoo, it was my friend, Maggie's, birthday at the beginning of February (same day as Izzi, actually). She's from the Seattle area and used to work with me at the Big A. Her boyfriend, Hugo, is English and his family is rich. They own a ridiculously amazing house out in a village in the Cotswolds. Part of the house was built in the 1500s, and the rest was added on in the 1600s, then remodeled in the 2000s. The neighbors hates Hugo's family because they added under-floor heating in their kitchen, which somehow cut through the village's main power line, so the lights in Hugo's house and the neighboring houses flicker on and off constantly whenever the floor is being heated, i.e. whenever anyone is in Hugo's house. Maggie wrote her master's dissertation from the house, on the topic of gentrification in modern society, and used the village as a case study. I wonder if she included a statement on the necessity of under-floor heating and its effect on neighborly relations.



Anyway, it was crazy fun. We went for walks and ate amazing meals cooked by Maggie and fresh bread from the bread maker and Maggie tried to ride Wayne the Pony by throwing herself onto his back. There was even a sword fight! Then Hugo read his granddad's diary, in which each entry ended "I.L.J." for "I love Jill." (Hugo's grandmother's name was NOT Jill.)





Photos here.

Visiting the UK March: Paris

Okay, it's not exactly the UK, but it was a trip that I haven't made since moving to the UK, so it counts, right? And I took the Eurostar, which I've never done before!

The weekend started with a perfect, sunny Saturday in London. For a couple months, Alex had been trying to get me to go to Broadway Market with her some Saturday morning, but I'd been working or she'd been busy and it hadn't worked out. But since my train to Paris wasn't until the afternoon, we jumped on the opportunity to check out the market, which is walking distance from her flat. The weather was amazing and we had a really, really nice time. I spent all my cash on silly, little artsy things, like stickers made from artsy polaroid photographs. Alex bought quality foodstuffs. We walked all the way down to the end of the market before I realized that I'd been there before, possibly twice. Ha! What a goof.


From Bethnal Green tube station, I headed to St. Pancras to catch the Eurostar. It was very exciting! I just barely made it! They started boarding as soon as I got there. The journey was uneventful. I did not follow through on my promise to Tim to have a cocktail on the train. Instead, I read comics and slept, despite the fact that it was only a 2 hour ride.




When I got to Paris, I was surprised at how disoriented I felt trying to navigate the Metro. I mean, I have traveled back and forth across the world, alone; I lived in France for a year; I know the London Underground like the back of my hand; I've been to Africa, for goodness sake! How could the Paris subway system throw me for such a loop? I tell you how: Because, of all the countries in the world, France cares the least about whether you reach the destination you were aiming for.

Anyway, I reached my destination without trouble. Jillian rented this gorgeous apartment in the very fashionable and trendy Marais neighborhood. For an hour, I just kept saying, "Wow, this is AMAZING!" We snacked on some baguette, cheese, and salami, then got dressed up for a Saturday night on the town. After wandering for a little while and asking random strangers where to go out, we finally found a bar a short distance from our flat. It was called "Bar Circus," cuz it was next to the ornate Cirque D'Hiver (Winter Circus) building. They played fun Latin music and we befriended the bartender, Alex, and asked him where we should go out from there. As Jillian is more ballsy than me, but doesn't speak French, she would grab a passing stranger and say, "Excusez-moi..." That was my cue to jump in with the mad French skillz, which were much rustier than I had hoped. After we'd been there about an hour, a group of young people got up to leave and Jillian grabbed one of the girls. "Excusez-moi," she started. I stuttered out a query about where they were headed, but the girl's answer completely befuddled me. "Pardon?" I asked. "Just come with us," she replied.

So we followed a group of strangers to the subway and on to a nightclub that played the kind of oldies you wish would just die already. Our new friends had all gone to university together in Toulouse, and were super friendly and welcoming. I very quickly got plastered, though of course I didn't realize it at the time, and we danced and chatted the night away, although somehow I don't think I did much talking. Or listening. I'm not really sure how I passed the time.

We slept late the next day, although I was up every hour or so battling a severe hangover. Since it was Sunday and everything was closed, we decided to go shopping. In France, stores aren't open on Sundays, except in Le Marais, which I suspect might have been one of the reasons Jillian decided to stay in that neighborhood! In one of the first shops, I spent 125€ on a silk top with lace trim that has SKULLS in the lace! Isn't that amazing?!? Yes, it is. Dinner was absolutely delicious buckwheat crepes in a very popular little creperie from Brittany.



On Day 2, we decided to go shopping. This time, we headed into the city, to the Galleries Lafayette where we perused the handbags and jewelry. Then we visited Coco Chanel's flagship store, where I became hyper aware of my holey and very dirty Converse sneakers. We checked out Herve Leger bandage dresses, then hit up Zara where I bought some ballet flats and a couple blouses. Jillian bought an awesome leather skirt and three pairs of shoes! Then we wandered towards the Champs Elysees, where we actually didn't do much shopping at all, but had some sisterly bonding and grabbed a quick drink before meeting up with Thomas, one of the people we had met on Saturday night.

Because he is foolish, Thomas picked as our meeting point a leather purse store near the Arc de Triomphe. Since he wasn't there when we arrived, of course we had to go in and have a look around. The "look" lasted quite a while and Jillian went home with another bag (she'd already bought 3 at the Galleries). But Thomas, who is very sweet, was very understanding. He walked us through a beautiful big park, then across town to Montmartre, where we ate a yummy, fancy dinner in a cute, tiny little restaurant that used to be an inn. After dinner, we walked up to the Sacre Coeur and got there just in time to watch the Eiffel Tower's hourly twinkle-fest.







On Day 3, since I was leaving in the afternoon, we decided to go shopping. We re-scoured Le Marais, convinced that we hadn't yet seen all the shops it had to offer. I bought a magnificent pair of deep red high heels that are slightly too high for me to be able to walk in. Oh well, just need to practice! Then I headed to the train station, and again felt like a fish out of water trying to ride the subway. At the train station, I had the awful run-in with UK border patrol which ruined my entire day and made me pout and cry on the entire journey home. But that doesn't matter, because I had an absolutely wonderful four days of shopping in Paris with my Bonus Sister. Yay!

Photos here.

Saying goodbye

I met Alex for breakfast today and told her I was going to Edinburgh. Her eyes got really big and...she looked almost worried. She asked when and I said late May. She leaves for Africa later this week and doesn't come back until mid June, so yeah...This is hard. But she can come up and visit me, or I'll come down and visit her. Her boyfriend is from Newcastle and that's just a hop, skip, and a jump from Edinburgh.

Holly is still in India (or Sri Lanka or Nepal?) and I haven't told her yet. She's the one I worry the most about. She's not going to handle this news very well. She's been saying since our course ended that she doesn't know what she'll do when we all return to our respective motherlands. Sigh.

Paris post soon. Soonish.

Birthday Fun Timez

Sunday, 7:20am--returned home in the same clothes I left the house in on Friday, 8:40am. One would have to conclude that I've had a pretty damn good birthday, which is surprising, because at 8:30 on Friday morning, I was holding back tears, convinced that I was going to have a terrible 29th birthday, sitting at home by myself watching tv. All of my most beloved loved ones were far away (family on other side of world, Holly in Nepal, Tanya in Sri Lanka, Izzi and Tim in Surrey, Anna in America, Alex in Alex-land, James in Cambridge, etc.) or otherwise occupied (Carina had a wedding). But surely I could count on Aparna to celebrate my birthday with me, no? I approached her with a rucksack in her hand. Spending the weekend with boyfriend in Cornwall. Hm.

So while at work on Friday, I emailed Maggie in a panic (she with the boyfriend whose family has a ridiculously amazing house in the Cotswolds) begging her to hang out with me on my birthday. She was all too happy to oblige. Then I found out that Anna wasn't in America yet, so she could hang out too!

After work on Friday, I headed over to Tim and Izzi's, where they had made lamb and roast potatoes and baked me a delicious cake with cream cheese icing! Yum! And they got me a very pretty green bracelet. Izzi's friend, Katie, was there as well and she is such a sweetheart. We discovered that she shares a room (bunkbead, even) with a guy I used to work with at the pub in Hammersmith. Small world! Tim and Izzi promised me a birthday breakfast if I spent the night, with pancakes and birthday bacon! (It's just like regular bacon, but fried with love.) Obviously, that was an offer I couldn't refuse. I headed to work for noon wearing some of Izzi's clothes.

At work, my French coworker sang happy birthday to me in French over the walky-talky, Anna got me a cupcake, and Alison made me a homemade card! Then Anna and I headed to a pub near work to meet up with Maggie and Hugo. Maggie's friend, Mitch, was there, too, and we had a fun time drinking and eating. Then my phone rang, and it was boy-Alex, my old (favorite!) manager from work, calling to wish me a happy birthday. He and Maggie and Hugo are really good friends, so when I told him I was hanging out with them, he invited us all over to his flat. We had so much fun just hanging out and playing card games (not strip poker, don't get any ideas!) We stayed until 5am. It was absolutely wonderful. Also, Mitch and Anna really hit it off which makes me happy (if slightly jealous) cuz Anna hasn't met any decent men in a while and Mitch is really sweet.

So it was a really, really good birthday and I need to learn my lesson not to feel sorry for myself preemptively. It was bittersweet, though, because Izzi and Tim and I got talking about my 30th birthday (shudder) and the fact that my visa expires just before it. And they were saying that they'll start saving their money now so they can come celebrate my 30th with me in America, and the thought of that kind of upset me. I don't want to go back yet! I've been mentally preparing myself for months now, but the idea of not being in the same country as Tisobel is hard to accept.

Which brings me to other news: Work said I could move to Edinburgh with the company. It would be late May, just two months away. I'll miss all my friends, but in a sort of "oh, haven't seen them in a while, oh well" sort of way. But I'll miss Izzi and Tim the way I'd miss a finger. You don't absolutely need it, but life is so much better and easier with it. Other than that, though, I'm super excited! Finally following my dream of marrying a hot Scot!

At Passport Control

I generally think it's a bad idea to lie to UK border agents, so that is why the following conversation went the way it did. Now I know better.

Going through passport control to reenter the UK from France:

Agent: "What nationality are you?"

American.

"But you live in the UK?"

Yes.

"What type of visa are you on?"

Post-study work.

"What did you study?"

The control of infectious diseases.

"But you work in retail?"

(Embarrassed smile) Yeah.

(Not smiling) "That's not really relevant, is it?"

Uh, no.

"How long have you been working in retail?"

(I start to suspect I should lie, but decide to go with the truth) A year.

"That visa is meant to be so you can work in your field. Why aren't you working in your field?"

I've been trying to get jobs.

"When was your last interview?"

About...five months ago?

"You're not trying very hard, are you? You know, this is exactly why we're getting rid of the post-study work visa, because of people like you who don't use it for what you're supposed to."



She stamped my passport and handed it back, and I just took it with a forced smile and walked away, fuming. I couldn't even focus on finding my waiting area or listening to boarding announcements, I was so upset. I spent the entire train ride home going over all my many inadequacies. I know I'm not supposed to internalize shit like this. I know when people are horrible to you, you're just supposed to shrug it off and feel sorry for them. I'm not supposed to let this ruin my memory of my three wonderful days in Paris.

But she was right. I'm not trying very hard. I've lost sight of the point, of my dream. I've become complacent and I'm wasting time and resources. Although part of that is precisely because of the mind-numbing and soul-destroying process of applying for jobs, but I need to be more determined. No one else is going to follow my dream for me.

Didn't think I'd need it again!

MERDE!! Just pulled out my trusty old mapbook of Paris and turned to the page that is supposed to have the area Bonus Sis and I are staying in.

It took me a second to remember...they were drawer pulls, I think. I was extremely proud of myself for creating such cool drawer pulls. Inspired by the store I now work in. I even wrote a blog post about how I was gonna cut circles out of maps and hodge-podge them to my drawer pulls.

So yeah. I ripped the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame, along with Le Marais neighborhood, out of my "trusty" mapbook in order to do craft projects. Note to self: when you arrive in Paris tomorrow evening, prior to trying to find the flat you're staying in, BUY A NEW MAP.

Living situation

Why do washing machines in this country take so freakin' long?! I put a load in nearly two hours ago! Arrrrgggghh!

Anyway, yes, I'm off to Paris tomorrow and have no clean clothes. Nice one, Kusems. No complaints, though. Today was a perty good day. Work was easy and I got to spend loads of time shootin' the shit with our stockroom manager, whom I adore (read: have a crush on but will keep a respectful distance from as he has a family). And our flat situation dissolved with minimal impact to my finances, which is great!

Basically, I was reluctant to move in with this girl because she's neurotic and patronizing (despite being a full 8 years younger than me) but didn't realize this until I had already agreed to move in with her so didn't feel like I could back out. We put down a £1000 holding deposit on a flat three weeks ago, and it's taken this long for the letting agents (they're like used-car salesmen, but for your future rental home!) to check all our references and stuff. After this girl gave them the money, they sent her a document saying that we would lose the money if we backed out for any reason or if they deemed our references unsuitable. She signed it without noticing that. On Wednesday, they said that our references "failed" because this girl's boyfriend is on a temporary work contract. They said the only options were to provide a guarantor for the whole cost of the flat (not just for his share) or to pay 6 months in advance (again, the whole kit and caboodle). I refused to even attempt to do that, especially as it would require this girl loaning me all the money, so they said we would lose our £1000.

The eminently wise Tisobel said, over and over again, "Talk to the citizens' advice bureau about your rights!" So I went to get some advice from them on Thursday. While I was waiting for my turn, I called the letting agent and spoke to him for the first time. The plan was to be cool and collected and read off of script I had written out beforehand. I did not do any of those things. I was unreasonable and angry and overly aggressive and had no idea what to say. The guy handled it relatively well. He probably gets that a lot. But he was clear and firm: "we" (i.e. my would-be flatmate) signed a paper forfeiting our right to our money. He said he was planning to have a word with her boyfriend about her options. I ended the phone call firmly with, "Well, I'm at the citizens' advice bureau at the moment, so I'll have a chat with them and you have a chat with [boyfriend] and we'll talk later."

Then I spoke with the citizens' advice lady, who said we could take them to small claims court and argue that they were unreasonable and didn't try hard enough to accommodate us, etc. This option did not sound appealing, so I went to work feeling hopeless. I spent the entire tube ride going over it all in my head, fretting. Then I called my would-be flatmate in order to inform her that I had lost my cool with the letting agent and had probably blown the whole thing. Before I could say any of this, she told me that her boyfriend had just spoken to them, and they were going to give us some of the money back.

I'm sorry...what??

Apparently, I scared them! Or convinced them that we weren't going to go down without a fight. They are giving us half of the money back, keeping the rest to cover the costs of chasing up our references, etc (which the advice lady said was totally fair). And my would-be flatmate has very kindly only asked me for a small portion of the fee, not one-third. They are able to continue living in their flat for a while longer, and I am able to stay in mine for the moment, so all's well that ends well! I won't be moving to Greenwich :-( but might be moving to Edinburgh :-))))) so things are looking alright at the moment! You can continue sending lovely packages to my current address ;-) hint hint

Anti-pie-mactic

Well.

Tonight reminded me of a day a year and a half ago, when I was feeling stressed and frustrated and alone, and I turned around and standing there, impossibly, was the one person I least expected but most wanted to see. That day, I was sitting in Hyde Park, frustrated with flat-hunting and desperately wanting advice, wanting to see a friendly face, and Alex came jogging by. In the biggest park in one of the bigger cities of the world, there she was when I needed her.

I'm pretty sure everyone wanted to come to my pie party, but all week people have been letting me know that they have to work late, or catch up on their studies, and this and that. I suspected that it was going to be a very small gathering, but I could at least count on my two flatmates and a couple others who said they'd definitely be coming, including a coworker who lives JUST down the road from me. Holly is in India, Tanya in Sri Lanka, Carina in Switzerland, Izzi and Tim at a wedding. I did not at all expect Alex to come. She's hard to pin down at the best of times, and as she is supposed to be leaving for 3 months in Tanzania soon, this is not the best of times. She sent me an email this morning saying that she had to go someplace after work and had stuff to sort out for Africa, but would try to come by after. This is Alex-speak for "see you in three months."

So I started baking this afternoon, not at all sure how many would make it. I was going to make two pies, a chicken pot pie using this crust recipe, and a homity pie. I got started at 4pm. At 6:40, while I was still working on the ingredients of the chicken pot pie, Flatmate One texted to say she needed to sort out her life and would not be coming. At 7pm, still slicing onions, Flatmate Two texted to say that she had been diagnosed with malaria and would not be coming (yikes!) I started taking pictures to document the utter failure that was my Pi(e) Day party.

Filling. Looks good, anyway.

Here's where things get dicey: the top pastry is hard as a rock!!
I almost threw out my shoulder trying to roll it flat.

No one else texted. Nobody at all. The time just kept ticking past, I kept working on my pies, secretly hoping no one would arrive because I was nowhere near having a pie ready for consumption. I became convinced that I would be eating them alone while watching an episode (or 3) of 30 Rock.

When my phone rang at 7:30, I expected it to be my coworker Laura, who I don't know very well and was a bit nervous to spend the evening alone with. But it was Alex, telling me she was downstairs and sorry she was late. It was beyond wonderful to see her. She brought mini steak and chicken pies from Marks and Spencers, and well as mashed potatoes!


Dinner for 10 became dinner for 1 became dinner for 2, and it was perfect. We watched Bridget Jones's Diary and pined after Mark Darcy.



But best of all, my pie was delicious! I even had a witness to vouch for it!

Concentrating really hard so as not to drop it.

I gave up halfway through the homity pie, but will finish it tonight and save it for lunches this week. I'm very proud of myself for making a pie, and a yummy one at that, but I feel weird about the evening. It was an almost complete and utter failure, but not in the way I expected. I've been telling people all week that I'm afraid of burning down the house or causing an outbreak of foodborne illness, but I didn't expect them to take that as a warning to stay away! I didn't even get to read out Becky's pie-ku's. :-(

Oh well. I had a perfect dinner with Alex and that's all that matters. And I have leftovers! AND I now know how to make a pie and don't need to be frightened of it anymore! I am INVINCIBLE!!!