...remember that time?

my vocation

2007-06-20T19:11:00.001+01:00

Him: I need you to print this and then scan it for me.
Me: OK.
Hom: Wait, I need to sign the last page before you scan it.
Me: OK.
Him: Well, you could give me the last page to sign while you start... No no, never mind, just give it all to me.
Me: OK.
Him: Does that make sense?

If I knew then what I know now I would have studied photocopying in University. And printing. And scanning. And then maybe my minor would have been in making tea. Or perhaps a double major? I ought not under estimate myself.

it's like the future...but now

2007-05-23T12:29:00.000+01:00

I had a video call last night on Skype with Adam and Kira. It was amazing. They placed me on the table while they sat at either end smoking cigarettes out the window and we talked. It was seriously like I was right there! I could see the park...

There are no words. It was just really, really nice.

maybe a little sad

2007-05-13T01:48:00.000+01:00

I stayed up tonight when SNL came on. My flatmates were all going to bed, but Rainn Wilson was hosting and Arcade Fire was the musical guest so I thought it was worth staying up for.

What turns me off is that every commercial break is 100% dedicated to adverts for text dating and hot naked women downloaded on your mobile phone.

So how sad is it that I choose to sit up at home, alone on a Saturday night (or 2 am Sunday morning) watching SNL?

success!

2007-05-05T03:45:00.000+01:00

i am happy with the list of wants. perhaps incomplete, but it gives me a sense of accomplishment.

next is the list of lessons learned. it's going to be a bigun...

complete and utter madness and why oh why am i still putting up with it?

2007-04-01T21:42:00.000+01:00

Text 1 - (From boss) Please be in at 8:30 tomorrow so we have half an hour to go over things before I leave.
Text 2 - (My reply) Fine. See you then.
Text 3 - (From boss)Ok. Please call me when you get in.

and furthermore

2007-03-30T16:12:00.000+01:00

unless i can overcome the traumas inflicted upon me when i was a child, i will never be whole and i will never be capable of truly loving another.

i need to go on a soul quest.

this is a promise with a catch

2007-03-28T14:32:00.000+01:00

2 weeks (and a bit) until Montreal. I am so excited for the trip. For the time off work. For the time to be spent with friends. For the Canadian hospitality. For the haircut.

Going to Canada and then coming back here will be rough. It was after Christmas. Like Jonathan Franzen said: it's better not to leave than to leave and come back.

Maybe that's a bit dramatic. The funny thing is, I like London and I don't want to leave.

I need 2 lives to lead simultaneously. At the end I will just choose the one with the better ending. No?

Does this sound like the ramblings of a crazy person?

Reason number 1,234,555 to love Ira Glass

2007-03-19T12:07:00.000Z

He loves the OC. He watches it every week and he cried when it went off the air. He got super-excited when they mentioned This American Life in one of the episodes. He even compared Taylor to Paris from Gilmore Girls.

And every week he and his wife sang along to the theme song.

wish you were here

2007-02-26T22:47:00.000Z

the birthday festivities went strong this weekend. the night before the actual day and i can't celebrate any more. too much hangover.

the party last night was one of those weird moments in your life where you realise that you can be loneliest in a giant crowd. it was such a fun night and the people were fantastic, but i am still unable to really connect to new people.

it's a curse. damn you, people i love!

and happy birthday to me!

home!

2007-02-20T23:16:00.000Z

Me. Mid-life? Crisis!

2007-02-13T10:43:00.000Z

Things are not going to plan. Or maybe they are. I feel a strong level of dissatisfaction, but I don't know how to stop it.
My job is boring me. I don't do interesting things. I am not learning, I am not being challenged. I am simply too smart for this. At least I can afford to buy the ridiculously expensive items that I want but don't need.
I might go back to school. Just might. I need to wait another year before I can go full-time (and not pay international tuition) but this is just enough time to figure out exactly what it is that I want to do.
Options?
1. MA in Victorian Studies
2. Teaching certificate
3. Law
4. Interaction design

Design is what I really want to do, but I am so far away from it, it's basically like starting again. So many options. Aren't we lucky? We really can do what we want when we want and the possibilities are endless.

PS - Crosswalk, I requested my vacation time yesterday. I had a dream last night that I was already there.

a Curiousity

2007-02-10T21:21:00.000Z

I had a dream last night that H. and I were getting married and I was telling everyone (aka, you guys). H. wakes up this morning and the first thing he says is, I had a dream that you were telling everyone that we were getting married and I got very angry with you.

Fate?

Je pense que.

hide the children

2007-02-02T10:03:00.001Z

http://lovegodsway.org/GayBands

what not to say to people about to get married

2007-01-28T04:11:00.000Z

"Hey, it's ok to fight. Fighting is what people do. It's how we remember that we're still in a relationship. One day you won't be fighting and you'll be divorced."

DISCLAIMER: I actually thought I was helping.

(no subject)

2007-01-16T21:04:00.000Z

J and A,

Ok, there is nothing that the rug hasn't revealed but just so the two
of you know: I am anticipating a rather isolated few months and I hope
that you are prepared for whatever accompanies 2.5 weeks + of
self-entertainment. We will be fine. Money is inconsequential, sex
doesn't fucking matter, relationships are just an excuse to not self
evaluate, and the point of this email is actually just to remind you
of my new email account.

why do you want a ring on your fucking finger?

2007-01-14T01:17:00.001Z

I don't remember writing this, but the title was saved in my drafts...

girl can't help it

2007-01-10T00:22:00.000Z

I can't sleep anymore. I haven't had a good night's sleep since last Thursday. Friday was blotto with Alanna and Adam. Saturday was on a plane and robbed me of 8 hours. Sunday I was up. Monday I was up. Tonight I am up.

Is this fate? I forgot Pasty in Vancouver and PT (evil boss) bought me a region 1 copy of the Jackass 2 DVD. It can only be played in North America. Is that a sign?

Must be. So I am thinking of a couple of months in Vancouver this summer. I guess I always sort of knew this would happen once I visited. Even on our uneventful evening it was still so good to be out with people. Friends. It had been so long.

H is upset. He is worried I am going to fall in love with the last person I would fall in love with and I will never come back. I don't know if I will come back for the person who still can't be with me. After all this time. And an international relocation. I came to London to live with him. And I don't. Live with him. And he made that choice. I said last year that the situation needed to be remedied by the Spring, but can I really bully him into being with me? And would he ever give up Flo? These are questions I probably don't want answered.

Here's my resolution: 2007 is the year of me. This is it. I am going to buy a pair of £400 shoes, go where I want, live where I want, do what I want. I am so fucking tired of pleasing everyone else. Looking forward. I can't rely on other people to make my life what I want it to be.

I 'something' you too

2006-12-20T20:07:00.000Z

“I love you” you said.

Then there was that pause that always accompanies cross-Atlantic telephone calls. I think I may have paused too, which must have added a few seconds to the obligatory response you were waiting for.

“I love you too”.

It echoed through the receiver and in my head, and across an ocean and a continent. When I said it I think I thought I meant it. Back then I think I thought a lot of things that haven't ended up being true. But we both said what we thought we were supposed to say. Couldn't we have just said “I miss you”?

I remember sitting on a bench by the harbour. We had only been dating a few months. You started crying, then I started to cry. I had broken up with you over the phone the night before. I told you that day, on the bench by the harbour, that I knew I'd hurt you one day. You assured me I would not.

Much later, like say a year or more later, over drinks at our first apartment in Montreal, you said “One day you're going to tell me I stole your youth”.

At the time I thought it was rubbish. Today I think it is rubbish. There was a period though, shortly after we split up when I resented you, having thought that you had, indeed, stolen my youth. Now I know for myself that I just never wanted to be young.

Later still, beyond our beginning and end, after meeting the girl that I would shortly marry, you told me “She seems nice, you better be good to her, don't treat her the the way you treated me”.

As you said it I brushed it off. Back then I still thought I had been good to you. I know better now, but for whatever reason the affect of your words stuck, and whenever I behave like an ass they surface to taunt and guide me.

With the new girl, the current girl, the wife, I remember we began with something. Instead of “I love you” we'd say “I something you”.

The implications were the same, but the possibilities were greater. We knew there was a feeling that resisted a label. We knew there was a common phrase, but had tired of it's use. Still today, although we've succumbed to the “phrase”, we fall back on our beginnings to remember how we got to where we are.

sooner or later

2006-12-02T09:37:00.000Z

I got to work just after 9 this morning. I was supposed to be in at 8, but it never happened. My phone was making funny noises last night so I (brilliantly) turned it off. Along with my alarm clock.

Anyways, I don't really mind being here. Probably because I'm still hammered.

I learned something last night. A cheap way to get really drunk. You need to go out with secret pregnant people. They give you all their drinks.

it's alright by me

2006-12-02T00:53:00.000Z

It's a funny thing, stumbling out of a dodgy underground nightclub and being only 30 seconds away from home. Moments like that kick me in the ass and scream, this is London, you fucking twat.

A funny thing happened on the way to the Tesco

2006-11-30T22:32:00.000Z

I bought groceries tonight for the first time in eons and I decided to pick up a bottle of port. And I got ID'd. My reaction was, really? I thought the drinking age in this country was, like 16. I saw a program the other night about Britain's youngest drinkers and I was literally old enough to be those kids' mom. I mean, If my kids can drink, so can I dammit!

Luckily I had my passport on me and I could prove my age. I mean, this isn't BC, this is supposed to be an alcoholic's paradise. This is a city where people were enraged when someone suggested banning drinking on the systems of public transit. 1 in 3 kids live in poverty? Meh. I can't drink Fosters on the tube???? Fucking tossers.

And I thought I was buying grown up food. Organic hummous and broccoli. Pine nuts. Fancy cheese. And what underage drinkers opt for port??? It was so wrong.

Editor's note: This incident did not actually take place at a Tesco, but the store in question has an awkward name. And obviously it didn't really happen on the way, but...c'mon! Creative license.

my dog blog

2006-11-24T10:41:00.000Z

Look at those eyes! H says she is too much the victim here.

I know how that feels.

epiphany

2006-11-10T19:44:00.000Z

Along a road all edged with flowers
which passes time in endless years
between the tracks and grassy verge
I found a puddle made with tears

And with that I wanted to be back in school.

It will pass.

Oh November

2006-11-10T19:00:00.000Z

I haven't updated my blog in a while and there is a pretty good reason why. I have nothing to say. All I do is work work work, and all I can talk about is work complaints. I wonder why I even go home anymore. Wednesday was a 14 hour day, yesterday was a much more reasonable 9 and a half, and tonight is coming up on 10. But I was supposed to be off two hours ago.

It's all par for the course, anyways. I am currently the only employee and I agreed to help out. They increased my salary again and I know (hope) that I am in for a more than decent bonus come X-amas. But can you put a price on spare time? I currently have none.

When I do get home I indulge in the greatest thing of all: series 3 of One Tree Hill. It is amazing. Dare I say it? It's better than The OC. The plot, the characters, the CMM and Sophia Bush tension, it's all too much! 3Way, you were so right.

And when I have a real day off, I go shopping. Not for food, I haven't bought groceries before my Mom was here, but for real treasures of consumerism that make me feel good for days at a time.

I had a dream last night that I went to Montreal for the weekend and that you guys all came to London. Central London looked just like downtown Victoria and we let Transfer drive and she almost got into an accident driving on the wrong side of the road.

Oh. November. It is dark at 4:30.

Happy Guy Fawkes

2006-11-05T17:36:00.000Z

I just did a little Wikipedia research. Apparently Guy Fawkes is celebrated in Newfoundland and Labrador. Who knew? I guess they hate the Catholics too.

We are going to light fireworks off of our roof tonight. And by we I mean they. My flatmates. I have no desire to lose a hand this evening. I don't know if I even want to watch them... I am a safety girl. This seems decidedly unsafe.

not her dog

2006-11-01T13:32:00.000Z

I took this picture from Jessica's MySpace profile.

So cute.

the anniversary

2006-10-26T13:39:00.000+01:00

Today is my one year anniversary in London. I had no idea if I would last a month and now I have no idea when I will ever leave. I like it here. Finally!

However, I really want to go home for Christmas. If I cannot I will spend the holiday in France and that will be lovely, but it would be nice to be home. I just need to come up with £700.

This makes me laugh:

Poor Macca. Divorcing a one-legged prostitute
who accuses him of wife-beating and he's still
the boring one out of Lennon and McCartney.

one cafe in two parts

2006-10-22T22:22:00.000+01:00

c'est fou

2006-10-22T21:59:00.000+01:00

So Paris was gorgeous. What a surprise, right?

H. and I hit a major glitch, but we are back on track. It was all my fault and I can fill you all in at a later date.

And my Mom would KILL me if she knew I had posted this photo...

try not to laugh

2006-10-10T09:23:00.000+01:00

I know why thi s shouldn't be funny. But it is.

I am going to hell.

first thing

2006-10-10T08:02:00.000+01:00

I had to work at 7 this morning. I have not been up this early in a long time, in the shower I felt like I was about to go skiing. Remember when we used to sleep in our clothes in anticipation of an early morning?

I was up until 1:30, tipsy, texting anyone who would respond and watching Gilmore Girls. I spent the evening at a Symposium on Luxury. The symposium itself was fine (but then what would I compare it to?), but the circumstances, the setting were astounding. The event was hosted in a members only club in Central London. An 18th Century house fit for royalty and transformed into a modern day playground for the rich (and their personal assistants). I can safely say it is unlike anywhere else I have ever been...

I got drunk with our bank manager and his PA. The crowd was such a mix, but most people had that unmistakable look of wealth. Or (like me) they were there to assist their member bosses.

So different than the Christian Wives Fellowship. Instead of tea and biscuits, there was wine and roast salmon skewers/pate.

Anyways, it is early to be at work and my body is aching for another cup of tea. It's funny getting up so early, the city is entirely different to me at 7 am. Like I never knew the cafe opened so early, but there was Magda, wiping down tables and preparing for the day. And no queue for the shower!!

plus one, minus eleventy billion

2006-10-05T19:47:00.000+01:00

The cute flatmate was listening to Jeff Buckley. I went and stood in the hall and thought about how foxy you have to be to listen to Jeff Buckley whilst alone.

Now he is listening to Lenny Kravitz. I feel so betrayed.

a reply (crosswalk gets it)

2006-10-02T17:35:00.000+01:00

Number of times I have been drunk in the last week: 5
Percentage of those times that alcohol was consumed at school: 80
Average number of hours I spend at work per day: 11
Ratio of working hours to daydreaming hours: 3:1
Number of books I've read in last 7 days: 4
Number of bottles of Johnny Walker Black Label I have polished off: 3
Number of times a week I consider running away: 14
Likelihood that I will see my best friend before I graduate: 25%
Number of people in Montreal that I phone in a given day: 1
Chances that that person is my boss: 100%
Number of people in Montreal that I text in a given day: 1
Number of people in London that I text in a given day: 2
Number of times I've promised my mother in the past 6 weeks that I'd go home the next weekend: 2
Number of days that tuition is overdue: 10
Amount I would have to drink to make out with someone in Montreal who wasn't my boss: two assloads
Number of people with whom that is even remotely appealing: 2
Chances that those people are in the same class with me: 100%
Percentage of those people who are attracted to girls: 50%
Chances that if given the choice and the right amount of hooch I'd hit on the gay one: 100%
Likelihood of me getting done this week all that needs to get done: 10%
Amount of time I will spend emailing: twice as much as usual

Index

2006-09-20T10:22:00.000+01:00

Number of hours my self-imposed detox lasted: 36
Number of reasons for need to drink: too numerous to count
Number of websites that think I may have a problem: 1
Number of boyfriends that think I may have a problem: 1
Number of friends that think I may have a problem: 0
Number of friends: 3
Number of friends in London: 0
Months spent in London: 11
Months spent trying to make friends in London: 11
Months spent in total and utter futility: 11
Number of jobs I have held in London: 2
Number of times my salary has increased: 2
Work hours per day that my colleague spends talking on her mobile: 7
Number of work hours per day that I spend talking on my mobile: 0
Work hours per day that I spend texting from my mobile: 0.75
Work hours per week that I spend reading celebrity gossip: 15
Number of times I may have exaggerated in this index: 4
Number of flatmates I really like: 4
Ratio of likeable flatmates to tolerable flatmates: 4:3
Number of flatmates I would get drunk and make out with: 2
Percentage of these flatmates with girlfriends: 100%
Percentage of these flatmates with flatmate girlfriends: 50%
How much time am I wasting here: loads
How much do I miss you guys: loads

don't try this at home

2006-09-17T15:40:00.000+01:00

As you may or may not know, I went to comedy club the other night. While most of the comedians were not particularly funny, I heard some new phrases that I wanted to test-drive, since, let's face it "are you shitting in my purse?" is getting a little old.

Last night I had the perfect opportunity at a silly drunk party on a houseboat moored near Canary Wharf. I selected the drunkest guy at the party and I approached him and initiated a banal conversation. Then, I interupted him with, "you know, you have exactly what my Grandmammy used to call a five cock mouth."

I am not sure the reaction I was expecting, but he did not respond well and I made a quick exit. My results thus far have been pretty inconclusive and I will probably need to collect some more data. It may be the perfect way to start a fight. I just got called a crazy bitch, but I am sure I could have gotten him to punch me if I had put a bit more effort into it. Maybe seven cocks next time?

first

2006-09-17T15:38:00.000+01:00

The picture isn't great, but muah... It is love.

i can be bought

2006-09-12T23:28:00.000+01:00

i was so distraught over sarah's departure that my bosses gave me a marc jacobs handbag to cheer me up. and it worked.

it is a sea green blake bag from the spring 2006 collection. pictures to follow.

and when i make my fortune you will all get bags too!

not a word

2006-09-10T23:26:00.000+01:00

Alphabetise. It's not a word in England. Or Australia.

They make me doubt myself... I didn't make it up, did I?

quite too utterly utter

2006-08-28T20:02:00.000+01:00

If you open it in another window, it will be much clearer. And clarity is important here.

The story of my life

2006-08-27T10:42:00.000+01:00

I was reading the news in bed this morning, when I came across this article. Pretty fitting, I'd say.

I never had a TV in my bedroom before London, and now I practically sleep with my computer.

saturday morning coming down

2006-08-26T11:47:00.000+01:00

It is almost noon. I am at work, but I am not working. I am trying, but it is Saturday morning and this just feels like free time.

I am drinking tea, I am reading the news. I am updating my blog. I could be doing all of these things at home, but I am "needed" at work. I am trying to reach Sarah, but it goes straight to her voicemail. She is either on the tube, or talking on the phone, but she is not here! She is supposed to be like I am supposed to be.

I love being here when no one else is. Crosswalk, I am sorry you did not get to come visit my office. You could have had tea, and biscuits and free jeans! I failed you, I think.

Crosswalk leaving was really terrible. It reminds me of Jonathan Franzen's father - it is better to not leave, than to leave and have to come back. Your departure coinciding with Sarah's (soon) departure and I am quite depressed. For one week I had two girlfriends and in a matter of days I will be back to none.

I am going to stay in this city and I am going to make more friends. I am also perfecting the art of having no friends. There are loads of people I like, but the people who become mates are much harder to locate.

God, this reads like the blog of a 17 year old. I have a crush on so and so, but he likes her and no one understands me. Why God?? Why??? I cannot wait until I graduate. And so and so is a little slotsky.

it's all for charity

2006-08-20T11:35:00.000+01:00

I just picked up a brand new edition of The OC series 2 for £8.

Hurrah!

how naughty

2006-08-15T20:07:00.000+01:00

Somehow I have come to prefer Prince Harry. He's rich, famous and has access to a sick amount of ass. We're talking boyband ass. But where is Chelsea? Naughty boy.

Obsess Much?

2006-08-14T19:40:00.000+01:00

I spent the better part of today searching for a job and an apartment in Vancouver. I wouldn't be moving there for at least another year (probably more), but I am already planning. I want a cushy job and a cushier apartment. Big views of mountains and oceans.
I put a picture of Vancouver on my desktop and stared at it longingly (and it was not a nice photo).

I need to stay in London until I make some serious dosh. I worked too hard to get here to give it up for nothing.

I just miss ready-made friends. I miss being able to snob people, I certainly do not have that here: I have to take what I can get here.

And on the topic of obsession, I am getting married in these shoes.

So now I just need Crosswalk to graduate and get her ass west, I (maybe) need H. to apply for his PhD west and I will be set. There is nothing wrong with this codependency. I have been alone long enough now to know that for sure.

i must put this forward

2006-08-11T18:26:00.000+01:00

We have a new client at work whose surname is Labia.

His first name is Andrew.

A. Labia.

I work with A. Labia.

she says

2006-08-10T13:43:00.000+01:00

Last night was excellent. Excellent, like my flatmates came home at 1 am and I was sitting in the lounge, drunk off my face, watching Mr. Boogedy on YouTube. Excellent, like my boss started a water fight and almost got us beaten up. Excellent, like we had to pour him into a cab and had to convince the cab driver to take him.

Excellent, like my ex-intern walked me home and I know he came upstairs, but I have no memory of him leaving.

This morning was not so good. There was an unfortunate incident with a toothbrush and I threw up once I got to the office.

I told them all about you, Crosswalk, and I am hoping for a similar evening while you are in town. There is fun to be had!

how wild

2006-08-10T00:18:00.000+01:00

Drunk. Had to put my boss in a cab. Literally standing in the middle of the road, flashing some thigh, hailing a cab.

Benji walked me home.

I wish you knew these people.

too close for comfort

2006-08-06T23:26:00.000+01:00

I just leaned outside to close my window because I thought it was raining and the noise turned out to be my neighbour pissing out his window.
Big fat guy.
Tiny penis.
Just a silhouette, thank God.
Ahh city life.

today is the day

2006-08-04T18:20:00.000+01:00

Good things are happening. No doubt this will be coupled by bad things, but for now - enjoy the good!

First. My debit card showed up this morning. I am officially a bank account holder. My boss called and yelled at the branch manager (really) and they finally let me open an account. Hurrah the cranky American!

Second. I work very hard at my job and I usually feel a little neglected, so yesterday, to make up for my poor salary, I received a cash bonus. A big'un. I want to treat myself to a little something special like a Chloe/Marc Jacobs/Luella bag from work, but then again, perhaps my laptop which is less than a week old is a little something special. Perhaps.

You know what I am going to buy? My degree. Concordia is holding it in hock.

Speaking of the new laptop, I can rarely talk about anything else. So clean, so white. The Mac is a little hard to get used to. It has an Intel chip, but I do not find it to be as fast as the PCs I am used to. I get incredibly impatient and the programs crash. I thought Macs were beyond crashing! Is it me? Am I too much for Mac?

Crosswalk will be here in less than two weeks. There are no words. No words, she mutters.

je suis hilarious

2006-08-02T11:39:00.000+01:00

H's Indian name is Lives With Two Others.

Ahahahahaha. Clever clever.

hello lover

2006-08-01T20:43:00.000+01:00

My new Macbook is stunning. So incredible, slick, swish, amazing that I cannot get over it.

I can listen to any BBC station right on my desktop. I can play Sudoku. I can keep in constant contact with my lovely friends (and I do mean constant).

It has a big, glossy screen, remote control, built in webcam.

This is it. This is love. Now he just needs a name.

hello hater

2006-08-01T20:28:00.000+01:00

My application for a bank account has now been rejected four (count 'em) times. Four! On four separate occasions with three different pieces of identification, at two different banks and two different branches of the same bank.

What is a girl to do?

Seriously.

What the fuck am I going to do? It's been eight months and my options are running out.

Bastards.

how funny

2006-07-31T16:07:00.000+01:00

Up for auction is this broken framed print of St Paul’s Cathedral from the Thames River.

Included in this auction is 1 cranky American Boss with an MBA.

He owns his own business and flat in a prominent part of London.

Don’t miss out on this SPECIAL eBay bargain.

A quick sale would be appreciated.

is it me?

2006-07-28T16:13:00.000+01:00

My colleage just came into my office to show me what some "asshole had stuffed down her mail hole." As soon as she said this I burst out laughing because it's hilarious, right? Right?

They all think I'm crazy.

Hamcake on Home

2006-07-28T13:47:00.000+01:00

Almost one year on...isn't it time for new nicknames? I KNOW 3-way will be back me up on this one.

It's strange to have a new apartment. I was in Tom Williams House for 8 months. That's longer than I lived in St. Henri for. Like it or not (and I did not) it was home.

The room is tiny, but I will survive. Sometimes it annoys me that I cannot move on either side of the bed, but this is London. One must accept what one can get. I am afraid my flatmates find me antisocial, but it is hard to break into a group of 7 people who have been living together for a year!

I cannot play my music. I need to buy a lamp (or 2). I cannot figure out how to flush the goddam toilet. I have taken to locking myself in the bathroom to practice, but I cannot do it.

It is nice to have my own space and it is amazing to live so close to work. My mornings are so relaxed that I have time to be bored before work.

My Dad did not seem impressed with the new flat. I thought he would like it, but he spent the next day after moving me trying to convince H that if we could just live together we could afford something so much better.

I just moved. I am not going anywhere.

Hamcake on Holiday

2006-07-11T11:18:00.000+01:00

We have driven around three different small towns this morning en route to Dublin looking for an internet cafe. When my Dad suggested we get out and walk, I almost lost it! All this so he can keep up on his internet dating.

Obviously we found a place. The keyboard sucks and the going rate is 1 Euro for 15 minutes, but I am happy to check my emails.

My vacation is great. Ireland is so beautiful. I have not yet seen a woman as lovely as Crosswalk, but I have seen plenty of men who resemble her father. And Matt Law. Loads of men who look like that guy.

It is so green and it rains all the time. All the time! I think the weather is actually better in London! Yesterday we went to Blarney Castle and I allowed a strange man to dangle me off the side so that I could kiss the Blarney Stone. It was quite terrifying for such a popular tourist attraction.

Wales was incredible. All mountains and small towns. Every hill was covered in baby lambs sleeping and eating. Lambs all the way up to the mountain peaks! From now on I will only eat lamb from Wales knowing that they enjoy such beautiful (albeit short) lives.

I am drinking way too much. The combination of Ireland and my Dad has a bad influence. Last night in a teensy town I won a U2 trivia contest and got a free round of Guiness. How did I win the U2 trivia contest against a group of Irishmen? I may never know. Magic.

Dublin today, ferry back to England tomorrow morning and then up tp Scotland. We are meeting up with Sarah and Stuart in Glasgow on Thursday and then they will show us the sights of the smaller towns on Friday. Saturday - train back to London for me. End of the vacation, but only one more week until I move.

I miss you guys. I really, really miss you. Crosswalk, I do hope you make it next month. We are going to a Nuclear bunker. And 3way, you will be seeing me in September. Mark my words. I am coming and I am bringing H. We are going to rent a car and do BC up proper.

Love and kisses.

I must be getting older

2006-07-07T14:19:00.000+01:00

H says he thinks my Dad is kind of a perv. I take this as a bad sign.

Remember when a bag of groceries and a free dinner was enough to make me find my father personable? It doesn't work like that anymore. Maybe some new clothes would help...

He's an ideas man

2006-07-06T15:29:00.000+01:00

My Dad wants to be a grandfather. We are having a nice dinner last night, I am swigging wine like it's going out of style and he reveals this gem of wisdom. It seems that his new lady friend has a four year old grandson and he is just so neat that Dad wants to have grandkids of his own.

My Dad. Wants to be a grandfather. He is teasing me in front of H about this.

My Dad. I had always intend to shield my future offspring from him as much as possible. I figured he would get bored of the child once it entered its teens and he would disappear. This is his track record afterall.

The more I think about this conversation, the angrier I get. He wants me to have a child? He just met H, he has no idea about our relationship.

A grandchild? Maybe I am just in shock. What is up with the half-baked opinions of bunk dads? He failed miserably as a parent, is he hoping for a second chance?

Other People's Problems

2006-07-06T13:22:00.000+01:00

So F and M have hit another rough patch. Rough as in, M's confirmed lover moved to another city, and F was willing to forgive her and it was all behind them, but then lover boy came back for a visit and F discovered incriminating texts on M's mobile and F was so confused and conflicted and he really didn't know what to do. So he did nothing.

The lover came and went. F monitored M as much as he could and he tried to forget about it. But then M left an email open on her computer for F to find. This email went something like, I have always loved you, you are the one. I will leave London and come live with you. Sex with you is so good, you are the best, I love you, I love you. And F is devastated and he confronted M, but she says the email did not mean anything (WHAT?) and that it was her attempt at closure with the lover (again: WHAT?). And again, poor little F is so confused and he doesn't know what to do.

This is a true story, and the main characters are not 12 years old. I need to buy him a copy of She's Just Not That In To You. Immediately.

Somone changed my desktop

2006-07-06T13:08:00.000+01:00

To this.
This is my boss and I think he wants to kill you. Maybe this is a warning for leaving my computer out over night?

The Kind of Day It's Been

2006-06-30T15:00:00.000+01:00

Yesterday morning my alarm failed to go off. I woke up at eight, exactly the time I need to leave for work in order to be on time. Not the end of the world, but annoying nonetheless.

JV (my boss) does not mind that I am late, these days he thinks that the sun shines out of my ass. And maybe it does a little. But my recently added colleague has not fared so well: she has been fired.

I am sent to the bank. I walk to the bank almost every day (same bank that refused to open an account for me) and I always take the same route. I am walking down the hill and there is a pretty cat, but he is a jerk and runs into the road to get away from me. Try not to let it bother me, the tears stinging my eyes, I walk away. Then a car come flying down the road. As the car passes, the driver and two passengers turn around to see if they hit the cat. I am too traumatised to look, I just keep walking. But that cat ran out into the road because of me. I was just walking down the sidewalk, and I might have killed someone's cat. I can't go down that street anymore.

The day is finished out at a Hawaiian bar in South London. The bar has a real Joe vs. the Volcano vibe that I love. I am there for a free rum tasting and all of the drinks made with the featured rums (Jamaican this week) are only £3. For a triple. I get annihilated. I don't even mean to, but I haven't had dinner and one of the rums is 63%. Annihilated.

I am home and in bed by 11:30 even though it takes me a million years to get home.

Might be the hangover, but I just volunteered to work tomorrow. And Papa comes Sunday.

oh Canada

2006-06-23T16:30:00.000+01:00

Like we needed a reminder that Canadian men have no morals. But oh Jose. Jose, you should know better. Just because you come from a corrupt Quebecois family, it is no excuse!

Yet another reason to prefer soccer players.

And how horrible would it be to be left for Tori Spelling? I cannot think of a worse fate.

Hello Time-Waster

2006-06-16T14:51:00.000+01:00

Also known as the best site ever! It is calledGoogle Earth and it is more fun than a bucket of kittens. Or a bag of weed. It might be more fun than you can handle.

I went to my house. And then I went to work. Then I went to Montreal (but I could not really see it because of cloud cover). Then I went to 1010 Queens Street. Now I am going to Mom's because I miss her and last night I had a dream that I went home to see her and she gave me coca-cola for my hangover. What a good mom! Unfortunately, I was not dreaming the hangover part.

Wedding Bells

2006-06-16T11:15:00.000+01:00

Erin Cadorette is getting married next summer and she wants me to be her Maid of Honour. My Mom called to tell me that and I started crying in the middle of a restaurant. Finally! A wedding I get to go to! And be a part of! And someone likes me enough to want to make me a part of it!

Funnily enough, when I was on my phone in the restaurant crying and saying the word marriage, my table of Mr. H and Mr. Badr assumed I was speaking with Ms. Crosswalk. And they assumed you were announcing your marriage to one Mr. Boss-man.

I quickly set them straight. But then, maybe it's a sign!?!

Endless Material

2006-06-15T15:38:00.000+01:00

My boss (who is not really my boss, but my boss' partner has added me to his Messenger list. Have I found my muse? I can write all day about this man...

PT says:
it's nice to have you at my fingertips
PT says:
I've missed you over the last week
PT says:
my working relationship is so harmonious with you

I feel violated. Messenger used to be safe!

A New Beginning

2006-06-14T18:19:00.000+01:00

Well not really, but I am going to write here more often. And I am going to be publishing my pictures on Flickr (please refer to the link provided).

I am at work and I am being harrassed and annoyed by my bosses a million miles away. Do they practice at being so annoying?

about a boot

2006-02-12T19:07:00.000Z

Everything is the same here. I am moving at the end of month, I work too much, I am starting to make friends, I miss my real friends and I like to talk with people who are also away from their real friends about how hard it is to get along with new people.

My Granny has put in an offer on a house just off of Linden Lane. How much fun did we have on Linden Lane (9 years ago!!!!!). Oh the calling Todd and hanging up, the kids burning Doritos, the learning to drive standard in the driveway (and failing miserably). And who could forget the time 3-Way threw all of my clothes in the pool. Good times.

Last night was H's birthday and I did not get to bed until 4:30. This is insanely late for me and while I do not feel hungover in the slightest, I can barely hold me head up. Getting older sucks. Does anyone else notice that you cannot drink the way you used to?

All together now.

2006-02-10T12:20:00.000Z

The first thing I did this morning was go check your blogs due to a middle of the night notification that said blogs had been updated. Finally! You guys made me cry in my tea! I love my friends. I miss my friends.
I dig what you are saying 4X (why is that your name? what is the reference?): This is the year when things are going to happen. 25 and fabulous, although I am still 24 and scared as hell.
Talking to my mother the other night, she suggested that perhaps England was not for me, a thought that has of course crossed my mind numerous times. She asked why I had wanted to come here and I replied, honestly, that I had wanted to challenge myself. And if nothing else, this I have accomplished. Consider me challenged (more so than usual). Moving to Montreal was so easy, really. I had my possessions, my friends, my cats. I had a ride. I had a reason to be there. My purpose is not nearly so clear now, but anything is possible. There are so many opportunities in this world, it's unbelievable and if I had never left Duncan (or even Victoria) I would never have known that.
But I am going to be 25 now and I am only ever going to get older (funny thing that) and I need to really think about what it is that I want out of this life before it is over. So you know what I want? You know what I really really want? I want to have kids. I want a family. That's it. So unfabulous it almost pains me. Now I am not in a position to have children at this point in time and I am ok with that. More than ok. I still have plenty of time and many many things I want to accomplish beforehand, but that is basically my goal. My life plan.
For now I want to live in London. Really live here and enjoy it while I can. I am forcing my Mom to come visit me sometime soon. I miss her so much and I want her to be able to see this city with me. I even want her to bring Steven if he is at all interested. As much as I would love to be back in B.C., it is just not going to happen right now. Not anytime soon, anyways. I have too much to do here, I cannot just walk away...So you come visit too, 3-way! Why not? All you need is the plane ticket. This goes for you as well, Crosswalk and Transfer. Don't be such squares- []. 25 and fabulous means taking vacations, I am fairly certain.
Oh, and my father is coming in July. He is going to take me to Scotland and Ireland, so I am down. Which lady friend will he be bringing? Should I be taking bets?
Crosswalk, I would like to move to Galliano with you. That is perfect, actually. I imagine I will end up a single parent to H.'s secret love-child, so I had better have a place to live. Not a chance I will let the Frenchies lay a hand on my offspring...if baby speaks French before me I will send him to Brat Camp (they have that here!!!!). Let's try to get a house with indoor plumbing. Please?
I digress. I am sitting in the sun listening to Dante's demo. I am waiting for some sort of response on the dozens of job appplications I made this week... Come visit. come visit. come visit.
Love Always,
Hamcake.

are you lost little girl?

2006-01-27T19:09:00.000Z

So last night I am at a bar and there are these two Italian guys trying to pick up me and Malou. They are pouring the delicious wine, they are making the necessary small talk and they are asking me the dreaded: so what do you do? And I have to reply nothing because that is the truth. I do nothing. What do you want to do then? I have no idea!! Seriously! What do I want to do? I am going to be 25 in a month and I am unemployed and as directionless as ever. It was supposed to be better here, but it is so much worse. I am overstimulated and completely underwhelming. In fact, I deem my current status so decidedly UNfabulous that I am postponing my birthday until I can see a marked improvement. That's it! For the first time in history I have decided not to get older. Just for a little while. Just until things get better. And they will get better, right? Right?

The plus side is that I might be back in BC very soon. I mean, I have nothing else to do. And I miss my Mom! It's only a vacation, but H. is already worried that I won't return. I think I will. I hope I will. I want to make this work, but I am living off of Monsieur Visa and he can be quite temperamental. Can I afford to go? Can I afford to stay? If I were not this confused all the time then who would I be?

And if I do decide to turn 25, all I want for my birthday is my friends.

sigh double sigh

2006-01-24T12:32:00.000Z

still unemployed...i apply for (no joke) five jobs a day and it is not getting me anywhere. plus, my friends no longer update their blogs and they have stopped e-mailing me. why god??? why????

it's colder in there

2006-01-04T10:48:00.000Z

things have gone from bad to worse for poor the poor t-willy house. how is this even possible??? you might be asking yourself. i don't even know, man. it's not good. the other jenny hates me with a murderous passion that would be admirable if it were not so terrifying. and i threw a proper blind rage of my own, one that leaves my other blind rages only to stare in awe and wonder. i had to be restrained!
i write this to my friends because you are the only people who know that i would never go after the boyfriend of my friend, especially when said boyfriend is 5'2, 75 lbs. and has nauseating facial hair. give me some credit!
the problem is that jenny is willing to blame me for the entire thing because i did not scream loud enough and i did not fight him hard enough. although she admits that she heard something odd that made her enter the room, she claims it was my moans of passion! ugh, just writing that makes me throw up in my mouth. grrrrrrrr. writing this is making the rage boil up again, i must stop.
i miss you all, my friends, so much. i am very upset about everything that is happening here and i want to come home. i want to go to my mom's house and hide out in bed for a few weeks, at least. and i wish to castrate that creepy little fuck, hector. do not let this be a blemish on my permanent record, i promise that all of your lovers will be safe from my whorish ways even though my mother never taught me morals.
heart.

Tom Williams House takes the show on the road!!

2006-01-02T10:33:00.000Z

So I am relaxing in France for all of 24 hours when Elie calls and tells us that he will be joining us in the countryside. He was invited for two days...he stayed for four. This means that four of the six Tom Williams House inhabitants are now staying together in a house smaller than said flat. This means that poor moi is now drowning in a sea of French as Elie brought his impossibly cute girlfriend (daughter? cousin?) along and she does not speak a word of the English.
However, it takes more than a bunch of slurring Frenchies to get me down, as you well know. I persevered! I drank a lot! I spoke their "language" when necessary. Mathieu (intellectual Melgaard) came for a visit (in his porsche, no less) and I completely understood as he explained to the table that only whores turn him on. Salut hamcake!
On December 30, Elie (forever a soldier) insisted on us going deep into the woods, lighting a bonfire (despite the freezing rain that fell ALL DAY), drinking hot wine and singing from his Foreign Legion songbook. The 15 litres of boiling wine, mixed with a generous helping of rum and one kilo of sugar helped make this experience as joyous as Elie had imagined it. We sang our little hearts out and when they asked me to serenade them en anglais, I did not disappoint. Unfortunately, my repetoire of songs I know by heart is limited to: Duke of Earl, I Will Follow Him, Leader of the Pack, Jeremiah was a Bullfrog and some song about asking Daisy to marry (Daisy Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you...) Apparently I have not learned a new song since 1997. It was all I could do not to bust into some Little Mermaid.
Anyways, I am home now and happy to be back in London, less then thrilled to be back in the flat (and by less than thrilled, I mean crushingly depressed). H's papa is here and F's girlfriend is homeless and apparently staying with us. I am unemployed and with nowhere to go and J, my lone female friend, is furiously angry with me over an altercation on Christmas that involved her boyfriend. I did one too many shots of Christmas cheer, passed out in her room (the party was raging on in my room) and woke up with her slime-weasel/pervert/fuckhead boyfriend trying to take my pants off. If this attempted molestation was not bad enough, she then walked in and now seems to think that I was trying to seduce him. Seriously! My life has become a bad after-school drama because he is a fucking creep. So my time at Tom Williams House might be coming to an end...I hope. Happy new year. Keep you posted.
Love,
your favorite hamcake.

love your bum

2005-12-24T15:17:00.000Z

that is the trademarked slogan of the TP that i just purchased. i had to purchase, really, with a slogan like that.
i hope my friends are reading this now because i need to explain why i will not be calling you this christmas...
so i was going to buy a calling card and ring you all and tell you how much unused love there is in my heart since i am alone, but i cannot do that now because i have run out of money and what remains i need for my taxi ride on monday morning.
i have no money because i am paid weekly, but my money all goes into f.'s account since i do not have a bank account of my own. f. has been out of town for a week now, so all the £ i had is in limbo (or france). oh, and i tried to open my own bank account but i was rejected. it sucked. anyways, i did budget for said phone card but this was before i learned that my flight was at 10.15 in the morning on a day when transit does not start running until 8.30, thus making it impossible for me to rely on transit. my only option? take a taxi from my flat to Victoria station and then take the *shudder* bus. fine, fine, not such a big deal, a little more than i budgeted for, but what can i do? oh, but wait! because it is boxing day and the transit is not running, the taxi companies all charge double. double! so my set fare to the bus station (which is a mere 5 tube stops from my house) is £28! Most expensive cab fare ever I suspect, considering the small distance to be covered. Anyways, so my trip to the airport that should have cost £20 is now going to set me back £50. Hence, no phone calls.
Anyways, I hope that you all have a great christmas. Jenny is having a party at our flat and she has promised we will drink till we are dead and we will not be boring the stuff.
You guys can still call me. In fact, I will probably call you and remind you to call me. And now I owe you all like 5 phone calls, and I will deliver in the new year.
All of my love, it really is not the same here without you. Not to mention, that is is bright and sunshiney and freakishly warm.
You are my heart.
Love,
J.

there's a first time for everything

2005-12-10T20:19:00.000Z

Last night I missed my mom. I missed her so much that I was nearly inconsolable. It was horrible and weird, made stranger by my realization that I could not remember the last time that I had missed my mom. Unless I am mistaken, I have never really missed her. Does that sound bad? I do not mean it to. But now I miss her like crazy. I have not seen her in a year! A whole year! She has missed my twenty-fourth year and this makes me feel so unbelievably guilty. It is something I hope to rectify as soon as possible...Sigh.

Now on a brighter note. There is a bar right next to where I work called the Bunghole Pub. Seriously. I know. Bunghole.

And I bought a flat iron and it has transformed my life. And my style. My style more than my life, to tell you the truth.

I miss Montreal and I miss my friends. I miss the good times. Christmas sucks.

And secondly...

2005-11-26T14:52:00.000Z

I feel the need to follow-up as I just read Crosswalk's blog and she thought I had gone AWOL...

I am going to post pictures here real soon like, I swear. Screw the anonymity, behold the beauty of Tom Williams House and all of its inhabitants!

I could write for days about the things that go on within that flat. I seriously think there is a place where we check our morals at the door. If I had a pound for everytime I had to lie about a flatmates whereabouts to their signficant other I could afford...something really great... This morning was no different:
J. calls T. to tell him that he cannot come over at 11 as planned because she is not home. But she is home and her ex-lover H. (coincidence) is passed out in her bed. J. and H. then lock themselves in the bathroom and have sex for two hours and then she walks him to the tube and in the meantime T. shows up and then J. finally comes home looking both hungover and very glowy from all the doing-it and we are all like, oh J. where were you last night? Out with the girls? Etc. and poor T. looks confused because he has the mental capacity of the aforementioned pound coin. But worthless.

And secondly, just as an aside, T's claim to fame is that he can rap the entire MC Hammer classic, "Can't Touch This". The entire song. And he did it when I was wasted and I had to stop and remind myself to remember the moment so I could write about it here, so it's ok, crosswalk, we all do it.

Oh, and by the way, I told my only friend who you all were so the nicknames will not protect you. AND the above J. and H. are not the J. and H. that I might be involved in, if that was confusing. This world is full of J. and H.'s which is a depressing thought.

new highs (or lows) in lameness

2005-11-26T14:44:00.000Z

i was at work yesterday afternoon when i read about the split of nick and jessica. the news was not particularly shocking of course, and not nearly as upsetting as the separation of cmm and sophia bush but here's the weird part: as soon as i read about it, i jumped up, grabbed my phone and my jacket and headed outside to call 3-way. seriously. forget that it was 6 in the morning, my first thought was gasp! nick and jessica are splitting up! omg! must call 3-way!
i stopped myself, do not worry. i never made it out the door, but i really really wanted to. i am so lame. that is so lame.
i feel shame.

i am titular

2005-11-12T02:40:00.000Z

tonight is a good night; the working week is over. my friend here thinks that in canada mooses are allowed to vote. silly brit.
i never responded to the offer of a date. ummmmmmmmmm... I am out with Matt tonight, tonight, not any other night.
(YOU DON'T KNOW MUSICALS! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!??!??! MISS SAIGON! MORE LIKE MISSING OUT?!?!?!?)
i have made a pact that i will move out within the week. mark my words. you all want to stay with me? yeah, we'll be sleeping in my sweet-ass double bed. Matt does not appreciate the sweet-ass; and he does not think you understand the importance of a double bed. silly brit.
that's all i can say right now. i promise all of the dead that they will rise again! and if you are terrific, you will you get an email tomorrow...thits job sucks my will to live. i am still friendless. except for matt. and i HATE HER!!!! HO HO HO
heart, l.

obligatory update

2005-11-07T19:47:00.000Z

i need to make this quick, but i realized it had been too long since my last update. what can i say that the people who read this don't alredy know?

h. told me he has a crush on someone else. sort of. i imagine she is a boring whore, but perhaps i am biased.

i was asked out on a date today at work. i imagine he is tall and impossibly handsome and so rich, but really nice though not so nice that i get bored and screw him over. and he is so smart.

yeah, that's basiclly it. oh, and i am a film star. and they really do spell aluminum 'aluminium' here, Transfer wasn't making that up. crazy arse bastards.

2005-11-02T11:08:00.000Z

Last night was Clara's going away dinner. Or rather it was a dinner that turned into a getting-wasted dance party. When I saw Clara this morning, about to depart and still quite drunk, I could not help but think of you, Transfer.
The dinner was amazing, anyways. Clara cooked Russian pancakes and despite my apprehensions about her cooking based on her normal diet, the food was delicious. But let me tell you about her diet anyways. First, she eats pickled things constantly. Morning, noon and night, it is pickles. You pickle it and she will eat it, carrots, onions, shallots, beets. She'll even drink the vinegar. In one evening I saw her eat an entire jar of pickles bige enough to keep you, Crosswalk, satisfied for at least a year. Second, she drinks at least a litre of milk a day. At least. She adds a splash of coffee to her cup of milk. She adds milk to everything. She soaks crackers in milk and then sucks them back once they are all soggy. She drowns her canned fruit and vegetables in milk even. Oh yeah, she only eats canned fruit and vegetables...
So now she is gone and I am going to miss her. Sort of. It is definitely nice to reduce the number of people in this room. Now if I can just get rid of H... The thing with Clara is that she is sweet, very pretty and exceptionally smart. She is pretty like a little doll; she sort of looks like the love child of Tina Fey, Natalie Portman and a couple of fairies and elves. And she is intelligent in a way that few people are. She is constantly referring to literature, art, philosophy, etc. and she does it not in a pretentious way. She speaks French, Russian and English fluently and she is learning Chinese. She read Anna Karenina as a teenager and loved it so much that she just decided to learn the language. Just like that. And she is only 20.
Now here's the drawback: she is so out of it and in her own head that one begins to suspect that she is mildly autistic. It's like she really has no idea what is happening in front of her eyes. Going out in public with her is just impossible. She's like, oh let's go here and we go there. Then she sees something else and we go there. And so on and so on. A simple walk through the park becomes a three hour ordeal. We would never get to our original plannded destination. And she has no sense of direction, absolutely none. I honestly have no idea how she got around when she was by herself. When it was the two of us she would constantly be asking where we were and then not believing me when I told her. Oh, and on the Tube she puts her purse on the floor and just stares straight ahead with her dream-face on. She never holds her bag or even looks at it. And she lives in Paris! I don't know how she has not been robbed yet. Especially since I have seen her almost leave her French Identity card on the train and her wallet on the floor of a pub. It's madness, I have never known anyone who was so out of touch with reality.
Anyways, now she is gone and things can be a little more normal here. The room is an absolute disaster and this is my first opportunity to really unpack and settle in. Plus, our little dance party was more like a tornado blowing through. It was fun though, it made me think of my friends. Dance parties are the same everywhere in the world. Even the music. Of course, there was a little more house music than I would have preferred, but there was also some GnR, JLo, Outkast, etc.

I want to go to the National Gallery today.

the debutant

2005-11-01T14:30:00.000Z

Last night was my coming out party; my introduction to London society, if you will. Ok, maybe not but it was definitely an introduction to something. People were very curious about me and right away they were approaching me and "subtly" asking me about my relationship to H. I was with three other girls and you could tell that they all sat around first, trying to figure out which one was the girlfriend...There was some definite hostility from a few girls from his program, not directed solely at me, but at the girls I had come with. Why are women like that? Anyways, it was a fun enough party. My standards for fun have decreased considerably since leaving Montreal, obviously. I was feeling angry at H. when we left (little wonder) and when he tried to put his arm around me I hit him so hard in the chest that I knocked the wind out of him. I can't really remember this: Blind rage perseveres!!

I am going to write a book. It's the story of a girl who moves to London with her boyfriend, but then he decides that he does not want her there the day that she arrievs. Actually, he realizes it a couple of days before, but he is far too much of a chicken shit to tell her this. It matters not. She is fabulous and she can get through anything. She will have a happy ending and I am pretty sure he dies. Painfully. And slowly.

The first day I was here I walked so much that my feet bled. Yesterday I walked so much that the heel fell off of my Marc Jacobs shoe. I didn't even notice until way later and now I am heart-broken. Perhaps it is a sign that I need a new pair.

The weather is so warm, apparently unseasonably so. They are predicting a colder than usual winter to compensate and apparently the Thames is expected to freeze for the first time since 1840!

My diet here is healthier than ever, I swear. Almost all of the food I buy is organic and I am eating rye cracker and hommous at least twice a day. Food in England is good! Who knew? I think this is definitely the country's best-kept secret. Even the McDonalds food is so lacking in grease that it almost doesn't taste good. It did little to calm today's hangover anyways...

I need to go get a job. I can't tell if I am a tourist or an immigrant.

those 3 little words

2005-10-29T22:04:00.000+01:00

holy shopping, batman. holy fucking shopping batman is more appropriate, but that would be four words... but seriously, it's just so good. today was all to myself and i browsed oxford street (horrible on a saturday) and went to h&m. there are no words. really. it's just...so...good...i kind of need to be alone right now...
oh wait, i am alone. right. this is a city for sharing and i am in dire need of some mates. i am going to my first party on monday, hopefully that will be good for me. the problem is, how do you meet new people when the people you have already known have achieved perfection? tell me that.
i am going to bed with visions of skirts and tops and boots dancing in my sleep.
ok and i am developing an accent and it is not british. or maybe this is just the first time i have ever been so canadian-sounding...i am very self-conscious when i speak.

there must be an airport nearby...

2005-10-27T15:58:00.000+01:00

It's weird getting used to the English language. When people approach me I am still ready with a je ne comprend pas. It's hard for me to accept living in a place where I can actually speak the language. I am still uttering awkward pardons and mercis all over the place. I am assuming this will quickly pass.
It feels like summer here. I wear a jacket and scarf when I am out (it's habit, I cannot help it), but I often end up stripping down to just a t-shirt. It is such a welcome break from the frigid onset of another Montreal winter. Nothing personal guys, but I am SO glad to be missing it.
The weirdest thing I find is the housing situation. It is so normal for two or three people to share a room. Every bed is a single and people are often sleeping on the floor. It's just so different than North America (at least my North American experience) and I tell fantastic stories to the peeps about how I used to share a 3 bedroom flat with only one other person. Their eyes are wide as they oooh and ahhh.
The division of class is pretty remarkable, as well. While there are millions of people flat-sharing like I just described, there are many many many who live in mansions. If you are rich in London then you are very rich. Rich anywhere else could only be middle class here...The wealth is kind of sickening.
I am going to be poor, but this is ok. So long as tea remains incredibly cheap my heart will be warm.
I need to look for a job and an apartment.

to my beloved(s)

2005-10-26T20:27:00.000+01:00

my intention was to write each of you a make you cry on an airplane letter that you could read while i was crying on the airplane. but i ran out of time. i still cried on that airplane, though. believe me when i tell you.
leaving was so hard, it was almost impossible. never before have i wanted to duck into a corner and hide quite like i did as i walked through the airport. it's weird with 3way gone, but montreal is my home. that city (and you guys being in it) has done more for me than i ever would have thought possible.
a couple of weeks ago i realized that on the best day of his life, h. could never be my family the way that you are. even if there were three of him. and now i don't even know what to think. i would be lying if i said that i don't care what happens, but i would never doubt my ability to get through it.
anyways, here i am. i am already smitten with this town which is a huge relief. i even think the air smells fresh! it's madness. last night there were fireworks that i could see from the balcony and i am pretty sure they were lit for me.
i think about you all, all of the time. you are in my hearts and on my mind and except for a few (very few) select others, you are all that matters.
love,
ham pancake, esq.

A Quote...

2005-10-23T22:56:00.000+01:00

This is simply too good not to share:

She'd never imagined it like this- when she'd thought of someone (a woman like herself) losing her mind, she'd imagined shrieks and wails, hallucinations; but at that moment it had seemed clear that there was another way, far quieter; a way that was numb and hopeless, flat, so much that an emotion as strong as sorrow would have been a relief.

The Hours- Michael Cunningham

That's Turboarlottetown. T-U-R-B....

2005-10-21T23:57:00.000+01:00

I am leaving in 3 days. 3 days and I am going to the countryside tonight for 2 days. I am a ball of nervous energy about to implode. For all of the dear darlings close to me, it is a blessing that I am getting out of town for a couple of days.
Today was my last day of work and it was un-fucking-believable. Not in a good way, in an unfucking believable way. It is way too difficult to explain what my job is like, you REALLY need to be there, but the supervisor in charge of training is incredibly special. Special like I cannot believe that her obvious learning disability is not more of an issue. However, the last few days have had some really solid moments. Like when Tina, the crazy woman that no one likes called directory assistance and thought that Turboarlottetown was an actual city. A Canadian city, no less, just one she had never heard of...and later when Tina asked a slightly darkish skinned boy to sing in Arabic, and he had to tell her that he does not speak Arabic. She asked the most obvious Quebecois boy I have ever seen to sing in Arabic... gold. These are the memories that I carry with me.

A Girl Called Jeff: In Memoriam

2005-10-19T20:33:00.000+01:00

I had to have my cat put down this past Friday. It was a really hard decision to make, but it was just her time. Actually, her time was Thursday night, but after an unfortunate encounter with those bastards at Co-op Taxi, her time was postponed.

I adopted Jeff in January of 2001. She was already 2 and a half years old and I was soon to learn, came with more baggage than middle-aged, divorced house-wife. She was skittish at first (who can forget the time she did a break-stand on MeatHead's foot?) but she sooned warmed up and became one of the most over-affectionate, annoyingly dependent cats of all time.

You have to remember that when Transfer, Crosswalk and I get together, it is literally the Special Olympics of pet euthanasia. Seriously, those who know us well know better than to ask about the passing of Molly the Mouse in 2001. And they also know to keep us the hell away from their own pets...but I digress. This should be all about Jeff.

As she learned how to love, she also began to get sick. A lot. She was originally diagnosed as having irritated bowel, but as we soon learned her sickness could come on at anytime. We also discovered that she took a perverse pleasure in making herself sick. With plastic. You could put a plastic bag on the kitchen table, leave the room for a minute and come back to find Jeff sprawled out on the groceries, hauling on that plastic like nothing else. She would then wander off and throw up within a matter of minutes. And she did this daily. Sometimes twice a day. We tried our best to get all of the plastic away from her, but she was incredibly clever. The only reason we knew her vomit was still being brought on by plastic licking was because the dyes would color her bile.

I never loved her any less. Even when she threw up on my bed every day for a couple of weeks. She was still my darling. This month she had licked all of the hair off of her stomach and was starting on her tail. She was sluggish and listless, she could no longer keep any food down and she was rapidly losing weight. It broke my heart, but I knew it was time.

Jeff, you were too beautiful for this world. xoxo

i get paid $75 a day to do nothing but this...

2005-10-17T23:58:00.000+01:00

I am on a computer all day at work, but every even mildly entertaining feature is denied to us. Pinball is on some computers, but you can only really get away with it if you are sitting in the back and even then it's a gamble. That's why it is truly amazing the triumph of spirit that can be witnessed in the face of such sheer and utter boredom. Behold!! Webdings!!

It's happening!

2005-10-12T20:35:00.000+01:00

I just received an e-mail that my Visa application has been approved and is being sent to me within a matter of days. I should be out of here by this time next week. I am still in shock. Woot!

you can take a picture of this

2005-10-08T14:25:00.000+01:00

Fall has come to Mo-town with a vengeance. The beautiful days are already forgotten as the chilly winds set in and the rain continues to fall. Ha. Fall.

I am feeling nostalgic. Back in Montreal, I am going through the boxes that I packed so hastily 3 months prior. I am reading the old journal, I am sorting through the old pictures. The journal is scary, as it dates back to December of 2001. Scary because it seems like not that much has changed. Sure, I am older, hopefully wiser; I live in a different city. But the ideas are still the same and horror of horrors, the writing reads the same. What am I going to do with my life? Complaints about the boyfriend du jour followed by declarations of devotion to the boyfriend du jour.
The old photographs make me feel content. Especially the ones of me with my ex. Although we have drifted apart and although I may have certain opinions about some of the choices he has made since I let him go (ha!) I can look back on that relationship fondly. Finally. For a long time it just made me feel bad, like I had wasted the better part of three years on a meaningless exchange of half-felt emotions. But no more! What we had was special. It was good (at times). We lived together, we actually did love each other. We travelled together, which means a lot to me. We were so young and excited and curious and easily impressed, nervously exploring the terifying streets of Brussels, and the much more beautiful ones of Paris. Isn't it ironic that it took me two years past the end of the relationship to realize that it was a good thing. I certainly did not recognize this fact at the time. Still, I am glad he is gone. Best of luck to him and his new wife.

The subjects of my photographs have not varied so much over the years. Sure we've mixed up the supporting cast, but the heart and soul of the group has remained. My group of friends, the real friends, the four of us, are chronicled in our photo albums. Of course, we have sometimes drifted, a face may not be seen for months, or even years at a time, but we are all there.

For the record, this nostalgia is not a longing for the past. Quite the opposite. It is a happy acknowledgment of the past and a very hopeful glimpse of the future. That's all now. I can't write anymore.

good form

2005-10-05T20:32:00.000+01:00

Montreal is hot this week, unbelievably hot for October. Indian Summer, so they say. I think summer is being lengthened because I was never supposed to spend another fall in this city. But that's just my theory.

I have am now working for the first time in months. Why do the days seem so much longer? Seriously, what is up with that? I start work (menial beyond description) and all of a sudden I am getting more done. I am going to bed maybe an hour earlier, but I get up at least five hours earlier. Who knew there was so much day to be had?
I would love to write all about the new career path, but unfortunately I signed many a confidentiality agreement. I'll still share the interesting bits, but nothing good has happened yet. Nothing. Not a thing.

Except I am training with a girl that I knew (of) since we come from the same small town. And I only know (of) her because she got a tatoo of her boyfriend's name (they got matching ones, in fact) while he was sleeping with my good friend, Bernard. Of course I have not said anything along the lines of, i remember you. your boyfriend used to date my friend, bernardo. That would be bad form, right? I thought so.

I want to leave. I want to leave! I am ready to go now.

one tree sad

2005-10-01T01:01:00.000+01:00

It is with a heavy heart that I am now writing about the recent separation of Chad Michael Murray and Sophia Bush, stars of the WB's One Tree Hill. It first came to my attention a couple of days ago and I have been trying to fully comprehend the implications of this monumental split ever since.

I mean, I don't want my priorities to seem at all skewed, I understand that this separation must be an extremely difficult and painful time for them both, but what does this mean for the residents of Tree Hill?? Last time we saw Lucas and Brooke were finally going to get back together. Now what? How awkward must it be to stage a reunion with your ex-husband? I think there are a few valuable lessons to be learned here.

First, CMM is only 24 and Sophia is a child-like 23. You are simply too young! And more importantly you are too hot (especially you, Sophia. CMM, your nose is too bulbous) to settle down quite yet. You naive little things, look what happened to Nathan and Hailey! You really never saw this coming?

Second, you are co-workers! Doesn't the WB have some kind of stipulation in your contract to prevent this sort of misguided union? You really thought this would last forever? Yeah, I thought the NKOTB were here to stay, too. How dare you try to seek out personal happiness at the cost of art?

I really tried not to like OTH, but the plot lines were so good and the characters were all people who I loved to hate. Brooke was a bitch with a heart of gold. Lucas was a moralistic jack-hole (his words). Nathan and Hailie got married in grade 10 (enough said). Dan sucked, Keith sucked. Karen was lame, Deb was a whore. Peyton and Jake were the only people you might relate to or wish to emulate and they had troubles of their own (kidnapping and penal institutes and psychotic ex-girlfriends and illegitimate children, to say the least).

I am really sorry that Sophia and CMM have decided to separate after only five months of marriage. I am sure that their decision to do so was not one that was taken lightly. For the sake of art, let's watch them channel all of their hurt, anger and frusrtation into sexual tension. For the sake of their sanity, the OTH writers need to kill one of them off. I vote Lucas.

a cautionary tale

2005-09-29T22:27:00.000+01:00

here are two excellent examples of why not to get drunk and send e-mails. first, to the man i met at the bar only hours prior (names have been changed to protect the innocent):

You can't even see me? You want to me do me.
L.

that's it, that's all it said. what does that even mean? why is "you can't even see me" a question? apparently i am very unpoetic for an english major...
and second, to an ex-lover:

Ohhhhh Michael...
We can meet whenever you may like..
I like you quite a bit,
L.

let's hope his girlfriend doesn't check his e-mail; could i sound more suggestive? my god, my cheeks were crimson this morning as i re-read these. never again, never again. i am no good at drinking and communicating, evidently. never again.

friend...or foe?

2005-09-28T17:11:00.000+01:00

Recently I was enjoying a picnic with some friends on a sunny day when this terrifying creature (pictured at left) crossed our paths. I think he must be a groundhog, but the company I was keeping argued otherwise. They refer to him as a "magic beaver" who will grant your wish if you chase him away. I think they were just high. But who is this fascinating little beast? Where did he come from? Why would he attempt to join our picnic and then refuse the feast that we offered him? In the immortal words of mon ami: "I am going to give that hole-hog a piece of my cookie." Truer words were never spoken...

about bloody time

2005-09-27T22:53:00.000+01:00

I am the queen of spare-time, yet I neglect my blog! WTF? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I get no alone time with the computer anymore...Tragic, but true. So many facets of this glorious internet are now being neglected, not just this modest spot.
My life is teetering on the edge of complete disaster, but I try to remain positive. Or not really, I am sort of numb at this point anyways. I am neither here nor there. I live with my boyfriend's parents, while said boyfriend flans around London. And while these parents are wonderful, they are also kind of crazy. Plus, they go to bed at like 9.30, so when I get home from work all I can do is lie down quietly in my room...
I don't even know if following along to London is the right thing for me anymore, but I will probably end up there anyways, simply by default. Ahhhhh default.
And to make matters worse, one of my best-friends is leaving on Friday morning. Leaving me!!! Seriously. I know. She is going far away and I am staying here (and we really are the funnest people you could ever hope to meet) and it is unbelievable.
Not supposed to be like this. This is barely even my life, or I am not really living it.
Bah. Apathy.

Welcome to Garbagetown, USA

2005-09-19T04:06:00.000+01:00

These photos are from an installation entitled "Garbagetown, USA" the residents advocate peace

Date: 15/09/05, the wee hours of. Location: Montreal's seedy Mile End district

first and foremost...

2005-09-19T01:27:00.000+01:00

According to one of my oldest friends, I am now eight-hundred times lazier than she. I am not quite sure how it came to this, but I have now been on vacation for 47 days and counting... It wasn't really supposed to be like this, summer was not supposed to end like this, but I suppose I can't really complain. Vacation rules! Being lazy rules! Boo work! Eff you, man.