First days in London

Well, I made it to London!! I'm now going on my third day here....and may I say, if the last two days are any indication of how this year is going to go, I'm going to be in for a very interesting 12 months. Where to begin....let's start with my arrival into Heathrow airport....

All was going great....all my flights were right on time, the trip over was virtually turbulence free, and I was on my way to actually meeting Audrey at the time we had arranged to meet at the King's Cross tube stop. But as I neared customs, I noticed there was a very long line, which wrapped around 2 long hallways leading into the customs area. Everyone in line looked to be from a variety of countries...and most seemed to be around the ages of 20-25. My heart began to sink, and as I arrived in the customs area, I looked up to see a sign posted at the entrance of the line where all the people had started from....it read "First time students". Darn it!! I made my way to the back of the line...and slowly inched my way forward every few minutes....for 2 hours. Needless to say, the arranged time to meet Audrey had passed by the time I made it through...so I picked up my bags (which were there waiting for me at the baggage claim....points for that one)....and made my way to the underground. I got off at King's Cross as planned, hailed a taxi, told him the address of my new home, and off we went. The neighborhood we drove through was lovely....brick houses, lots of trees, restaurants and pubs and shops everywhere....the we drove up what I knew was my street....only to stop right outside a house halfway up. The address read 6 Winchester Place....the address of my apartment building. And my heart sank again.

I told the taxi driver that this could not possibly be my place...that I was supposed to be living in a student accomodation, and from the pictures looked to be quite a large building. So we looked around on the street for a bit, then walked up the street a bit, where low and behold, there was a large brick building, much like the one I was supposed to be living in...only it wasn't called WInchester Place....the sign outside read "Elizabeth house". hmmm. The taxi driver was kind enough to drive me up the winding entrance road, where there was someone waiting to help me with my bags. Ok, so not the correct address, and not the correct name, but this had to be the place. As I made my way inside, I saw other people waiting around in the common area. One of the parents of one of the people waiting to be let into their rooms told me that things weren't quite set up yet, and that the rooms that were supposed to have bathrooms (like mine) not only don't have bathrooms, but the few that do had been double-booked for some reason. I didn't think my heart could sink any lower, but it did. I went up to what was supposed to be my room, which I had already paid a deposit and first installment on, went inside, and sure enough, no bathroom....and the room looked nothing like the pictures shown on the website.

I was given 3 options....one, wait around and see if a room with a bathroom opened up (not likely), choose another room without a bathroom, and use the communal bathrooms located on my floor, or transfer into another building which had rooms with bathrooms. Well, I haven't lived in an apartment without a bathroom in about 10 years, so I decided to take the last option, and move to a different location. I thought maybe I'd like the area more, so I'd go ahead and try it out. They called me a taxi, told the driver where to go, and off I was again....2 huge bags and a duffel bag in tow. As we drove out of the neighborhood, which I was noticing was nicer and nicer as we made our way around it....such beautiful homes, families walking about, little cafes everywhere.....the area we were making our way towards looked less and less nice...somewhat run down actually....and kept getting worse. I asked the taxi driver how the area was that I was moving to....he laughed and said "not as nice as where you were"....oh jeeze. I gave it a few more minutes, then told him I was really sorry but could we stop and drive back to the other place? He was so nice and understanding, and even let me use his cell phone to call back to the other place to ask if they still had rooms available....bathroom or not. They said yes, and told me they could arrange one as soon as I got back.

Ok, so maybe my building wasn't at the address it was supposed to be at, and maybe it wasn't even named correctly, and maybe I didn't get the room I wanted or paid for, and maybe the kitchens are about 1/8th the size they're supposed to be, and maybe there's no room to sit down in the kitchens, and maybe the entire place doesn't look like it does in the pictures on the website, but the neighborhood it's in is absolutely beautiful....and there's a tube stop not to far from where I am. I"ve already met some really nice people who live in the building, and everyone i've met and who has helped me up until now has been very kind and understanding. And I'm in London....one of the best cities in the world. So I think I'm going to be ok....more than ok. I think it's going to be a great year.

Did I mention the fire alarm went off last nite as I was falling asleep and everyone had to evacuate the building in their pajamas? No? Well that's another story.....

Retail therapy

For all of you out there who have either worked retail, or have enjoyed a shopping spree to lift your mood on a day where you might otherwise have been in a bit of funk, you know what retail therapy is. It is defined as shopping with the primary purpose of improving one's mood or disposition. This is, the ACT of shopping, i.e., an exchange of money for goods. Now that we have that clear, does anyone think that retail therapy could also be misinterpreted to mean striking up a conversation with the nearest sales associate, and endlessly unloading all of your life's problems upon them? I don't want to sound extremely rude or uncaring, but if you come into the store where I work (which will remain nameless), pick up a pair of sunglasses (that may have given a slight hint), and begin to tell me how you need to buy a pair of sunglasses for your nephew who lives in a different country, but is someone you hardly get to see because you left home when you were 16 years old due to an overbearing father who wanted to plan your wedding and who you were to wed, and came to the United States, and chose to live in Iowa because no one would ever expect that you were living there, and that was the real reason you chose it, because you want to hide out from your family, but you don't actually like living in Iowa, but you do like the fact that you have your independence and you're able to cuss and buy whatever the hell you want, including these sunglasses for your nephew (which you don't actually end up buying), and that what you really want is to marry someone for love (good call), and not because your family thinks it is an acceptable match, that you don't really care about the money and the inheritance you're missing out on (really?), even though, let's face it, it's a lot of money, but you are content, or at least semi-satisfied with the way things have turned out. Alright. Let's get back to the part where you came in the store to buy sunglasses. Is that what you really wanted to do? Or did you zero in on me, standing there behind the counter, with no one else in the store and nowhere else to go once you entered, besides perhaps the other side of the store, but that would be considered a bad sales tactic on my part. On my behalf, I really do enjoy interacting with people who come into the store. I enjoy laughing with them, getting to know them a bit, and talking about what their plans are for the day. I also understand if someone might be in a poor mood, and looking to lift their spirits by treating themselves to a bit of shopping. I do it all the time. But there are lines that need not be crossed when interacting with people you don't know! They're called social boundaries, and apparently some people need a little practice. Let's do that. I am a sales associate. I sell you things. I try to pinpoint what your needs are, then I try to find the product that can best fulfill these needs. I can't, however, help you solve your unfortunate family situation. Unless your dad really likes a great pair of Ray-Bans, and sees them as a peace offering for hiding out in Iowa for awhile, I can't reinstate your inheritance. I'm sorry. And I'm sure Ray-Ban is too. I'm sure they would make quite a bit more money if they could bring families back together again. So if what you really need when looking at that big shiny retail sign is someone to help you through deep-rooted family issues, please go see a therapist, or a close friend. But if what you need is a fabulous new pair of sunglasses to help make your day a little brighter (a bit more shaded really), come on in!

(Note: the instance referred to above may or may not have been a hypothetical encounter...you can decide for yourself)

As for my last blog post, I can report that I am much more comfortable (although not entirely confident), that the possibility of making it to my London apartment from the airport is quite good. After reassuring myself with the wonders of streetview Google maps, I now know that my apartment building is not, as my dream portrayed, lost in a field somewhere, at one end of a road leading to nowhere, and is, however, on a nice-looking street, lined by trees and little brick houses. The nearest tube station is also not a journey, but rather a short trip by foot...11 minutes to be exact, according to Google.

Ahhh, dreams....

So my subconcious must be doing a lot of work for me at the moment. Last night I had a dream that could more closely be characterized as a nightmare for all intensive purposes.

I arrived at my apartment building in London....same beautiful exterior as seen in the pictures on it's website, but upon entering, turned into something of a run down orphanage (I knew I should never have seen that movie....after more than a year, it's still embedded in my memory....even after all my efforts to simply concentrate on reading the subtitles rather than watching what was going on above them). The rooms in the apartment building turned orphanage were all inter-connected...there weren't any real walls, only partitions and clear shower curtain-looking room dividers, so that no real privacy could ever be established. The first "room" I walked into, which I believed to be mine, was huge, had 4 twin sized beds strewn about the room, and one other girl unpacking her belongings (note: i signed up for a studio with my own bathroom). We got to talking, and I told her that this must be a mistake, and proceeded to go downstairs to talk with any form of authority I might be able to find. I found a front desk/breakfast area (run down), much like one in an old hotel, where there was no real order to anything. The lady behind the counter was old and hard of hearing and had no interest in my distress in finding that I was given the wrong room. After much arguing, she gave me a new room key (which actually looked quite new, considering the decrepit condition of the place). I walked up a few flights of stairs (I thought I had walked down one....oh well, it's a dream), and found the proper room that corresponded to the number on the key. Well, as you recall earlier, there were no doors to turn a key into, so I simply pushed by the shower curtain, only to find a room that was quite possibly smaller than my current bathroom. It contained a failing bunk bed, with a small ladder full of cobwebs, and an old desk with a couple of drawers (storage space?). There was a single window (room with a view...very nice), which, if your eyes could focus past the dust and grime that covered the inside and out, looked out on a very lovely field, spotted by a few very modern looking homes. There was a single road leading from the apartment building into the field, disappearing over the horizon. After considering for a moment how I might actually find the tube station which was supposedly nearby, I walked out of my room, bumping into my former, extremely temporary, roommate. I asked her how I might get to the nearest tube station, and she responded by saying "that's quite a journey".

This whole dream sequence probably lasted around 20 seconds in real time, but as I woke up this morning, I vowed to myself to print off as many maps of the areas in London I might need help in finding my way around. So, on my list to do today: visit Kinkos. Aren't dreams wonderful?

(Please note: this is in no way what I expect to find when traveling to London....I have been twice before, and have found each accomodation has been more than nice. This dream, I feel, has been only to prepare me of my own short-comings on planning, not of anyone else's :) )

In the beginning.... :)

Start of blog...hmmm. Having just seen Julie and Julia.....or Julia and Julie....whichever it is....I feel a little weird posting a blog about my trip over to London to study for the year. I have no plan for this....I'm not going to try to cook 500 recipes in a year....I don't even know how often I'll write....just thought it would be a good way to stay connected with everyone. Read on or not....either way, I'm sure we will all talk at some point, but feel free to post comments! I'll do my best to keep up with this on my end as well. I definitely want to keep in touch, and I think this will allow one more way to make it easier to keep track of each other and our going-ons....along with Facebook and email and Skype...oh, and phone. I don't know much about blogging...maybe there's some way to start a bunch, and connect them all, so we can all read about what's going on in each other's lives....if this already exists, please tell me. That would be great.

Anyways, to update....I just gave my two weeks notice on both jobs. I still have about 4 weeks until I leave, but the way I feel, it might as well be tomorrow. I can't wait to get over there and start things. It has been great living with my dad the last couple of months....I've played a lot of golf....not well, but it's been fun to play again. Mostly, I've been working....finally saved up enough to buy a new computer! MUCH needed. My 's' key decided to go crazy about a year ago, and ever since, it's taken me twice as long to write anything (proofreading entails deleting all the 's's my keyboard interspersed throughout my writing). Along with a few other problems (and Apple offering to fix my computer for a "mere $500"...how kind), I decided to throw down the cash and walk out of Best Buy armed with a computer that can type properly...among other things. Also, I was offered a suggestion on reading before I go, so I looked it up and bought the book "The Anglo Files: A Guide to the British". Very interesting reading. It is from one perspective, but offered much insight into the history and culture of the English. (A couple notes from the book on proper etiquette: don't chew gum and wait to be introduced) I hope I don't make a complete fool of myself within the first week of living in London, but if I do (and if I'm aware of it), I'll be sure to write all about it. Anyways, I guess this will be it for now....just wanted to write a brief intro. Will write again once the date of departure nears....unless something happens and I don't end up going....then that will be the end of this blog....Hope everyone is doing well! Talk soon!!