Where Have All the Blue Pens Gone

When I moved here, I asked Sean if I should take a pencil case. He said no. I brought along one blue pen. I treasured this pen, it was one of those pens that you always seek out to use because it writes smoothly, you don't have to press too hard, it fits your hand exactly in circumference, and it is the perfect colour of dark blue. I used this pen a lot. Anyway, Pen was kept in the exact same spot when I got here and I never took Pen out of my room. Then two days ago I went to take down some information and Pen was gone. I used it two hours before on another note and I still had the note (to prove I wasn't misremembering)! I turned my room upside down looking for it. I mean, it is practically a cell, there are three places it could be: my bed, my dresser, or my counter. Gone.

So, after coming to terms with my loss, with my head hung I walked down to W.H. Smith, broke the bank, and bought TWO blue pens. I also bought a pen cup so I could store my new writers. Yesterday, I went to the pen cup and there is only ONE blue pen! What the fresh hell?! There is a blue pen whore in my room that is stealing away my writing utensils whilst I watch ER.

I will get to the bottom of this.

Also, at night my room is quite bright because I live on ground level and there is a street light that pours into my windows. I sleep every night with a sleep mask and every morning I wake up, without my mask on, and it has been courteously folded and placed on the pillow beside me. REM Katie is quite kind and tidy. I shall try to contract her out for other things such as look for Pen while I sleep.

Well...these are the stories folks. Not much happens when you sit by the phone, waiting to be called in to teach. Looking for Pen and waking up to a folded sleep mask three days in a row gave me quite a chuckle...

Let's all keep our fingers crossed the phone rings on Monday.

Two Wins and a Loss-ish

Sam and I went to a delicious pub roast on Sunday. Apparently this is a tradition to go to a pub for lunch on Sundays and start ingesting brews mid-aft...so we did. We had a full out roast with all the accompanying veg for lunch and a Strawberry Cider.

I noticed I began laughing a little harder at all our jokes about halfway through my potent beverage. But we continued and stumbled into the Westfield Shopping Centre (one of the largest malls in the UK). I was not in my Sunday best, due to the fact I thought we were just hanging out at a local dodgy pub. Unfortunately, where we entered, we were in the fancy section and area I cannot afford aka Prada, Tiffany's, etc...

It wasn't long before in my awe of fancy things, I bumped smashed into someone on my left side. I looked quickly, then stopped dead and grabbed Sam's arm. The guy was the actor who played Shaun of the Dead's friend in the movie. Who can remember his name, hence the delay in explaining to Sam whose shoulder I just dislocated. I made her stare at him as he lumbered along (he is not the most agile looking creature) with a woman. We then quickly looked him up on her phone and he was even wearing the same glasses as in the photo (see below)

I have never been more star struck. It was an unreal experience, meeting the friend of a famous person, who is predominantly famous in Britain for small films he has made with his buddies. Great win. His name is also Nick Frost, for those who want to google him and see why he seems distantly familiar in your memory.

Second on the docket is having successfully achieved Operation Friend. I have made contact with Ms. Next-Door Neighbour and we chatted about life. I know I have successfully made said friendship, because she said I could ask her tomorrow morning if I needed help finding the right bus to get to work. No one would offer unless she fancied me as a bestie. Right? Right.

Two wins in two days. I'd say things are coming up roses. My only other somewhat achievement (but also somewhat loss) is making the cut for a local book club. It was quite an interview. I literally had to apply and explain to them who I was and what kind of purpose I have in life, in order for them to allow me to see what book they were currently reading and meet with them December 6. They even threw in the "well you can meet us, we have a set of the novels however all the copies are out, so you will have to buy one if you want to join." A typical response I would send if I was trying to shake someone off. I responded with "Great! I am super excited! I will get the book tomorrow then meet you December 6!" Player won't get played. Then I looked up the book we were to read. The Night Watch by Sarah Waters. Let me show you a brief review:

"Having won critical acclaim and a passionate following for her genre of 'lesbian Victorian romp', as she once chirpily described it, it's a brave move to exchange the petticoats for an austerity cut."

Oh joy unbounded. Wikipedia says she is best known for her novels set in Victorian society... just my niche. I am sure I will be able to contribute meaningful comments toward the discussion in December. But I will not let them win, I will read it, then read online all the literary strands seen in the novel, and regurgitate them in the meeting. "All the copies loaned out" I'll show you.

Milk

On my way home from Greenwich (which was awesome by the way!) I quickly stopped by Tesco's Express because my bones were craving some calcium. I grabbed some milk and hobnobs for a late night snack. Unfortunately, I only saw "whole milk" on the container and forgot that in the UK whole milk = 4% milk. WHO NEEDS 4%? That's 2 more than we need back home. I think they literally squirt the milk from the teat into the jug. Needless to say, when drinking from the carton, immediately my mouth was covered with a filmy cream. It was like drinking a delicious glue or cheese. I had to drink twice as much water just to get the creamy coating off my tonsils.

Regrets...for myself and my bowel.

I love me some museums

Five museums in two days. Not so bad. Although after all the walking, I have been crashing on my bed around six every night. I am exhausted too because I have to stay awake relatively late to talk to any of my loved ones on skype. Today, I was at the Cole Museum of Zoology and managed to take some sweet shots. One particular photo, I needed to get more space because even at full zoom out, I couldn't get the entire display. Up until this moment, I was completely alone in the museum, with not a person in sight and it was so silent that the noise of my camera flash echoed. At this particular time, I take a large step back to get the picture I want and BOOM! I smash my entire upper body (including head) into the case behind me, just as a group of people walk by.

It was humiliating for four reasons:
-the loud crash my skull made on the glass
-the expression of surprise then pain that must have exploded onto my face, where the group of people could clearly see
-the age old display behind me, containing priceless specimens, was hit with such force that all the little things standing up in it fell over.
-in case the group were deaf and momentarily looking away, my camera still managed to take a picture with a huge flash, drawing their attention to me and the case

I fled the scene. Great picture though, no? (Snake skeleton)

Badger. Badger. Badger

The British LOVE their badgers. Exhibit A:

Flood

So as I have mentioned earlier, the people in my building don't like to clean too much. This would not be a problem, only that we share a kitchen and bathroom. On the first day, I decided to poke around (especially after seeing the state of my shower downstairs). I happened to fall down the rabbit hole and stumble across a heaven bathroom. It is bright, big, and beautiful. My shower stall, is a stand up with two sliding glass doors that encompass you like a coffin. The upstairs bathroom (equipped with tub) has a nice shower curtain and sparkling walls, I felt like George Costanza when he stumbles on the handicapable bathroom and hides it for his own usage.

When I bumped into the woman who lives next door, I asked if I could use either bathroom and she seemed confused. She said I could use the upstairs one, but why would I? I made up some lie story about being claustrophobic.

So today I took a gamble and snuck upstairs to shower. It was glorious! I smiled the entire shower. I even looked at the floor and noticed how shiny they were...the light was reflecting off of them.

Then, I got out of the shower.

Wet. I had flooded the ENTIRE bathroom. Like an inch of water filled it's huge floor. The shower curtain did not close all the way, pouring water into the bathroom. The shine on the floor that I had noticed, was amplified by the pool of water glistening above it. There was no toilet paper in the washroom (it is better to go to the bathroom downstairs but shower upstairs) and no hand towels. All I had was my beautiful, new towel. It had to take the bullet, mopping all the water, wringing it out in the shower because there was so much water I had to mop several times. I started to see the bathroom in a new light. The water had collected all the dust and hair from the floor, making a disgusting mass.

Needless to say, I have to change my tactics. I also have to buy a new towel, mine immediately went into the bin. Filth.

Maroon 5

When I'm wrong, I say it. (not) BUT I will admit that I was wrong about Reading. Today I fell in love with my city, it might be the best place I have ever lived...ever. I described it as living in downtown Toronto but if the city were built like Uptown Waterloo. Everything is accessible, there are so many stores, everything is in walking distance, and it is truly beautiful. 

My quality of life has sky rocketed because of:

-cobblestone streets

-small coffee shops filled with friends chatting

-winding roads

-beautiful architecture

-old churches and clock towers

-alleys filled with people

-warm, fresh air

It feels like I am constantly walking to the soundtrack of a Maroon 5 cd, easy listening, easy living.

Now I must commence Operation Friend. I must acquire one friend-ish by the end of this week, perhaps I will speak to people in my building (maybe not, anyone who can't clean a shower should not be alive let alone my friend, even if there is an "ish" attached).

One thing that will help me become friends with someone here, knowing the terminology/phrasing. I.E. SO many people say "are you ok?" and I immediately become defensive or awkward, not knowing how to respond. Sam told me that it is equivalent to our "How are you?" or"How ya doing?" So the correct response is to say "I'm fine, are you ok?" Vair vair weird, and hard to get used to. I am always thrown when people say it to me!

Anyway, Operation Friend has begun.