Happy New Year LONDONN!!

So I learned what a waistcoat is... its a vest...

I also learned that i need to keep looking for work because the dude never called me back... ughhhhh

But no worries!!! I had the best Nandos lunch today despite the fact that they had no chips (french fries) in the restaurant!! UGH! I love Chips!! I was more upset at the fact that people after us somehow had chips with their meals... like dude... not fair... They knew I was American?

I'm heading out to party for the new year! Yayyy for everyone going back to work soon! hahah

I didn't go ice skating today... they only have hour sessions and we got there late. FYI, British people really can't skate that well... New Yorkers.... you definitely get points for skating... everyone was like walking on the ice... and it looked pretty terrible to be honest. Imagine a circle of people bundled up with skates on just kinda.. walking in a circle...

Happy New Year!

Everything went wrong... How did I do it?

I really don't understand how I managed to get a call back. With the way things went today, I should have been fired before I even got hired. Let me explain to you... EVERYTHING went wrong!

It started with a bowl of "Frosties," (the UK's version of Frosted Flakes) which actually went really well for me this morning, Therrrr GGRRREAT! (haha I made a funny) but the spoons in my flat are just so small and frosties are hard to eat when they hardly fit in your spoon, you get my drift?!

Ok ok, this was the least of my issues, but like I said, everything went wrong.

While eating my bowl of frosties, my wonderful memory kicked into gear and it popped into my head, ah geeze, I need to wear a white button down shirt to the interview today... and guess where that white button down was? Ugh, I threw a small load in the washing machine, hoping it wouldn't take too long because I don't have a dryer in my flat, so I was hoping to have time to iron the damn thing dry, which didn't work out as well as you think it would.

I'll blame it on the stress, but you know those pimples you get, but don't come for days, so your like dreading the appearance of it because you know it's coming and you know it's going to be a painful one and you know you won't be able to hide it. Yea, thats the pimple I had (and may still have coming) on my nose. I thought it would be a smart idea to smother the stuff with a pimple cleanser to just really make sure that sucker didn't show up. Unfortunately, when I woke up this morning to take the cream off my nose, the top layer of my skin came off with it. OUUCHHIIII



So, okay, please envision me, with a huge red and painful patch of missing skin on my nose and a half wet button down shirt running down the streets of London leaving myself 20 minutes to get to my interview. I get to the station with a minute to get to the hotel (the interview spot- read previous blog about my interview set up) so I decide to get a cab to save myself a couple of minutes of walking time. Genius me read the location spot wrong, and instead getting dropped off at the Westminster H. Hotel, I was dropped off at the Westminster Hotel! I called my interview dude and I told him, "um I think I'm in the wrong hotel."

I showed up to the correct spot 30 minutes late without my CV (aka resume) which interview dude requested I bring. I was a complete mess and I had to wait to be seen because he was in the middle of another interview, an interview I continuously interrupted with my stupid phone calls about how lost I was.

At this point I felt like a bullfrog with holes in it.

While I waited for my interview, I met the receptionist of the Hotel, a nice timid woman from Romania. She assured my panicked state that the dude was really nice and doesn't really get upset as easily as I would expect. She liked working for him at least. 

Overall the interview went amazingly, which I'm still really thrown off about. It was weird, I went in to interview for a waitress position and I ended up speaking to him about a possible receptionist position at the Hotel. The dude owns a hotel and a restaurant and told me I could probably do a trial shift for both! YAYY I have a back up. Plus there may be an opportunity for a live in position, so that might save me some bucks! (A live in position basically implies that you live above or near the place you're working and they pay you a bit less, but all utilities are included!)

Any who... I guess not everything went wrong, but I was surprised my outcome came out as good as it did. I will await a call from about further details about work as I go grab a NANDO's lunch with Al and my plumber. HAHA who gets lunch with their plumber?! He's like Al and my best friend here... he brought me Mc Donald's earlier!!! (And I don't think i'll ever be as excited about getting Mc Donald's ever again.) 

I called in sick...

I've been recovering from my christmas with the australians it seems!

Everything was closed on Christmas!! EVERYTHING!!!!! Where are the cars and buses to run me over?!

Here is my explanation of Christmas in London.... Explanation

Coming SOON!!! CRIBS LONDON!!

Observations...

I've been spending some of my days wandering around London trying to get a feel for things...

Here are some things I noticed:

1. FOOD: Food is much better here! It's not the flavor. It's not the amount you get for your buck. It's the comfort in knowing when you order eggs/buy eggs, you are eating an egg from a chicken... that once lived... on a farm... not on meds... just living the chicken life.

*** I do think that nothing can top an American Burger however! no burger, no matter how hard a burger tried, could top a good ol' greasy diner burger!!
It's kind of like a fat European trying to look better than a fat American. Fat Americans just rock their fatness a lot better... so why bother trying.

2. SEX: It's everywhere!! Not the physical action of sex. (Although I wouldn't be surprised if the crazy amounts of PDA out here turned into a blown out sex frenzy)... This picture is on practically every bus stop in the city!!! Kids cover your eyes!!!


***This sign is my point of reference to where I live...

like I said.. they like their sex here...

3. CULTURE: I'm not sure what it is that makes a person European (besides their passport), but from what I can see, there is a swag here not present in American culture. (Don't get me wrong, No one has a swagger like us Americans!) But, it's like an acknowledgment of culture. I can spot an American from a mile away here. I was sitting at a coffee shop the other day and spotted one: dude walking around with mesh basketball shorts, a hoody, and hair like he just got out of bed. The poor gal with him, who tried so hard to look "European" with her black stockings and flats and peacoat. HAHA, didn't work. Her coat was white and Europeans don't wear white coats... only Italians from Milan.

*** Dude, what's up with Italians (while i'm on the topic) Unlike my homie American boy who didn't give two hoots how he dressed when he left the house, Italians look like they take 8 hours to dress. Sunglasses, big fur hats and shiny puffy jackets... they look like they're ready for a hot chocolate at a ski resort everyday. It's funny because they think they look good.. but I'm thinking not.

ON A RANDOM NOTE: this is how Al and I throw out our rubbish...

RUBBISH VIDEO

Kanye West is a Genius...

"Who's the hottest in the world right now... Just touched down in London Town" and ever since I did I've realized this dude Kanye is a genius! I love the song American Boy despite the fact it's been played out on American and British radio. But thanks to American Boy, I've learned about a new and amazing drink out here! RIBENA!!!! (Not only a 100% all natural drink, but it has the Industry's First 100% Recycled Plastic Bottle) YUMMMM

"Who killin' em in the UK.

Everybody gonna to say you K, reluctantly,
Because most of this press don't f**k with me.
Estelle once said to me, cool down down
Don't act a fool now now.
I always act a fool oww oww.
Ain't nothing new now now.
He crazy, I know what ya thinkin'.
RIBENA I know what you're drinkin'.
Rap singer. Chain Blinger.
Holla at the next chick soon as you're blinkin.
What's you're persona,
About this Americana Rhymer.
Am I shallow cause all my clothes designer.
Dressed smart like a London Bloke.
Before he speak his suit bespoke.
And you thought he was cute before.
Look at this P Coat, Tell me he's broke.
And I know you're not into all that.
I heard your lyrics I feel your spirit.
But I still talk that CAAASH.
Cause a lot wags wanna hear it.
And I'm feelin' like Mike at his Baddest.
The Pips at they Gladys.
And I know they love it.
So to hell with all that RUBBBISHHH."

I have another interview for a waitressing position tomorrow... I'm not excited about it because I feel like crapola every time they find out a certain someone is lacking a certain paperwork... ughhhh...

It's actually a pretty weird set up this time so maybe this will work. Get this... Due to paint work at the coffee shop, I'm supposed to meet a dude at 1:40pm at the Westminster Hotel... (like... do I check in?... Is there a key left for me in the Lobby?) Then dude tells me, "wear a white button down and black trousers" (not pants! pants are your underwear here... or now that I think of it, maybe he did tell me to wear blank pants?!) But, the thing is, I don't know why dude asked me to wear a specific colored clothing, He reiterated it was just an interview.

Oh well, I just think the whole thing is funny because I definitely just took up half of my blog yesterday to make fun of people from Italy, and guess what type of cafe this is!!! Bollocks!

I think I'm running out of options, or one would get that impression the way I've been on my grind to find work.

I called the UK immigration office today and they told me ALL of the slots to meet with someone concerning UK visas were full until Feb 4th 2009. (THIS IS OBVIOUSLY WAY TOO FAR AWAY! I will have no money by then)

So! Again, I went into panic mode and went back on the internet to look for off the book jobs.

I thought I had something good when I heard back from a pub that was hiring for a woman to work 15 hours a week for no pay, but would provide me with living quarters upstairs from the bar. Unfortunately, they didn't call me back for the position so I'm going to assume they picked someone else for the position... "D'OH"

I even walked into a bar called "Balls Brothers" to ask if they were hiring. Al figured it was worth a shot because the bar was underground and she said it would be easier to hide from people working here than other pubs... seriously though, BALLS BROTHERS?! who thought of this name?! I'm that desperate that i'm applying to bars called BALLS BROTHERS!

It gets worse...

I arrived home not too long ago after grabbing a late dinner, (I probably shouldn't be eating), and went back on the internet to continue my search for work when I stubble across an add posted for an English Teacher-

"I'm looking for an English teacher (native British, American or Australian), who's helping me to improve my English on my website http://www.thethemeparkguy.com. You would work with me at my place in Notting Hill, look over my shoulders while I'm writing and correct all my mistakes live. I need you to be skilled for the job as a teacher and boast of a charming, perfect English. I will prefer you if you worked as a journalist or creative writer before. Please send your CV, picture and hourly rate. You may start to impress me by sending me a corrected text fragment from the website."

Well, genuinely curious about this guy's website, I decided to take a peek, not realizing the absurdity that was to follow! (please click on the website! and make sure you click on the music he selected for North America as well as the other interesting music selections he presumes fit for each continent.)

Guess what I did after I fully went through his website... I APPLIED TO THE POSITION!!!!!

Weekend Update:

Christmas will mark two weeks since I've been in London-

To sum it all up-
I've learned how it feels to really not know what to do in a situation
Refreshed my memory on how an ice cold shower feels due to the lack of gas in your house
I will be spending Christmas with 11 Austrailans and 2 Kiwi's
that when all else fails, your plumber will somehow come to the rescue
and that things oddly work out for the best somehow...

I honestly didn't know what to do with myself today... like what AM I honestly doing with myself?
I want a job in the media so I bounce to another country with nothing...
I cant get a job
I need a visa
My closest friend besides Al is my plumber
I have no family here...
I hardly have hot water?!

I noticed I had no hot water yesterday when I attempted to wash my hair... I woke up with a head cold because I ended up washing my hair in freezing cold water (because of the lack of gas we had in our flat, and because I don't have a blow dryer to dry my hair. The one Al brought here from the states was too strong, and it blew a fuse one of the first nights we tried to use it)

I never thought I'd say this, but thank goodness for Facebook!
My plumber, a young lad himself, found my sarcasm and my accent to be pretty enjoyable and added Al and I as his friends on facebook. Lucky for us, I was able to write him and tell him that he did a "smashing job with the plumbing in the flat. but I especially loved the cold showers. The lack of hot water in the flat made washing my face quite enjoyable this morning!"

He was finishing up some work with the boiler when he wrote back we had no gas on in the flat. For a good 10-20 minutes, I think I grew 5 more grey hairs on my head. In london, they have two types of gas and electric, you can either get it monthly, or have a "pay as you go" plan, which is what we have in our flat. Basically its a way for our landlord to keep tabs on how much heat we use so she can charge us if we get outa hand. (like keeping the heat on full blast all day and night). Unfortunately, our lovely landlord forgot to add money to our gas card and bounced on her Christmas vacation with her phone of course turned off.) Trying not to panic, I decided to call the number on the card to see if we could add money ourselves to the card. Unfortunately, I didn't know the name the card was under. The woman on the line, then scolded me to give my information to her so that she could issue me a new card. I asked her how long it would take to get gas in the flat, she said "Three or more days because of the holiday". I really started to despise Christmas. Three or more days without heat?! A working oven?! hot water!? All I could think about was all the head colds I would be getting in the next week.

Our plumber dude though, came to pick up some of his tools, right when Al and I started to think we would be in closed doors this Christmas due to our lack of cleanliness! He then tells us, "I think you can just top it up, I'll take you to a store now if you'd like to try" I never put on a pair of heels so eagerly, Al and I were both dressed from our voyage out to the embassy. We topped up the card and out heating situation was solved. Yay to the plumber.

If nothing else, I come to appreciate things like heat and gas and having a roof over my head.
Having a place to stay, instead of living out of a suitcase, moving from hostel to hostel
Owning things, having neighbors, knowing ur surroundings

I had the supermarket guy tell me about a community organization project he's working on. The dude was preaching to the choir about inner city youth needing to leave their surroundings to explore more options with their life.
I tried to explain I knew a thing or two about that and he told me as soon as he started it up, he would love for me to help out.
I spoke to him for about 10 minutes. He even sent people to the other cash register just to finish explaining himself.
And all I went for was peas for dinner!

An Australian woman who i know threw a friend invited Al and I to spend christmas with a large group of Kiwi's and Australians.

Despite my troubles, I'm glad i came here with nothing.

Bah humbug!

In hopes that Al and I could also get into the Christmas spirit...

I've been listening to own list of Christmas music, one of my personal favorites.. Baby It's Cold Outside by Doris Day & Bing Crosby

The problem is, I'm not sure if anyone has really listened to this song.. but it's not as "holiday spirit" as I thought... don't get me wrong... Crosby and Day kill it on this track... great song.. but if you really listen to the lyrics.. i think we should learn a thing or two from Crosby...

I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside yea great excuse... it's winter... we know it's cold
I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside can't you see this woman needs to go home?
This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in
So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice werd and that's as far as your getting mr!
My mother will start to worry - Beautiful, what's your hurry woah, don't hold a woman from moma!
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to the fireplace roar this guy has guts, wait till pops hears this song!
So really I'd better scurry - Beautiful, please don't hurry she needs to scurry bro...
Well Maybe just a half a drink more - Put some music on while I pour omg... look he's trying to distract her so he can spike her drink!!! Watch out for these guys ladies!

The neighbors might think - Baby, it's bad out there
Say, what's in this drink - No cabs to be had out there TOTALLY SPIKED DRINK!! LOOK AND THERE WAS FOREWARNING!!!
I wish I knew how - Your eyes are like starlight now OMG.. she's getting delusional!!!
To break this spell - I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell great now he's a witch!
I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer
At least I'm gonna say that I tried - What's the sense in hurting my pride haha he has pride issues!
I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out
Ahh, but it's cold outside

And this is just the first verse!!! listen to the rest of the song!!

and Merry Christmas!

Christmas is keeping me from work

I've come to the conclusion that I will probably not have a job until after New Years. Christmas is Thursday, but I feel like many Londoners have already started their vacation. My landlord did. (Yes and thank you because I currently have no hot water!)

Christmas is taken a lot more seriously here than in the states. Since I've arrived, every bar, pub, store and restuarant I've been to played an endless amount of Christmas songs. They sing songs, they wear hats, they dress up as Santa, they put up lights everywhere, they take vacations! (What New Yorker or American for that matter takes two weeks vacation for Christmas?! Half of us don't even get two weeks vacation off for the year!)

Example 1: Al and I are having a beer at a pub, the song "A fairytale in New York" comes on, and it was like Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" came on the speakers the way everyone stopped what they were doing to sing the song.

(No wonder we view British people like this.. LONDON SILLYNANNYS

Example number 2: Once again, Al and I went to get a drink (don't think we are alcoholics, it's for socializing purposes!) and on the left side of the bar, 4 dudes are standing on the side, dressed up as Santa Clause!



Example number 3: Waiting to cross the street, a woman drives by in a pink car wearing what... A SANTA HAT! Mind you, I've seen people on the Tube with these Santa hats on, in the street... it's everywhere!

Example 4: They even keep tabs on international Santa!!! According to the London Paper, Santa in Brooklyn got a parking ticket! (apparently I'm not the only one that gets screwed by traffic cops) I bet New Yorkers didn't even know Santa got a ticket... (they are too worried about their own damn tickets).



They wear crowns all day on Christmas, they take off two weeks vacation and despite their own economic crisis, they are still able to spend 450 million British pounds on last minute Christmas shopping sprees (London Times) (add picture)... It's crazy! and everytime I talk about my astonishment with their embellished Christmas holiday practices, they say "Oh, well don't you guys celebrate Thanksgiving more than Christmas?" "NO?!"

Women and Pints

My pint of beer story

SOME MORE CULTURA!!!!

GROUP: MGMT
SONG: Kids

popular group and song out here as well..

No, I don't get these videos

VIDEO

50 Pence

British Word of the day- "Bollocks" is a word of Anglo-Saxon origin, meaning "testicles". The word is often used figuratively in British English, as a noun to mean "nonsense"

Someone is moving into the flat tomorrow. Yikes! I’m kind of excited, but I’m also kind of worried. I read in The London Paper about what the paper described as a 24 year old “thug” who blasted 50 Cent for 22 hours a day. He “terrorized neighbors with rowdy music, swearing and regular fights.” I’m worried. If this dude doesn’t have a place to live, how can I be sure he’s not going to be my new flat mate! I mean, to be honest, I don’t even mind the swearing or loud music… come on now, I’m from the Bronx, this is the stuff that puts me to sleep at night. The fights don’t even bother me, as long as it’s not with me. It’s the 22 hours of 50 Cent music that worries me. How can you even listen to 50 Cent for 2 hours, never mind 22 hours?! Does 50 Cent even have 22 hours worth of music? Ah man, the dude had 50 Cent on repeat for a whole day! No wonder the newspaper described him as “terrorizing.”




No, maybe I won’t get this lucky with wannabe 50 cent as my flatmate. Kelli, our landlord, said most of her tenants hardly speak any English. So maybe I will have an Italian 50 cent playing flatmate? Bollocks.

Despite doing absolutely nothing today, I was really excited... some dude came to fix our broken window and because he seemed like a nice lad, I asked "would you like me to make you some tea?" "Why yea, that would be great." Aw... I made a cultural connection.. how lame am I.

I need to find a Dog Park...

It’s funny… no matter how bad your day is going or how low your moral is, it doesn’t matter if your in America or somewhere international, someone always finds a way to get you at your lowest moment… and make it worse. Those damn high school wankers…

I was already having a rough day. I printed out 18 copies of my resume to hand out to bars and restaurants around Camden Town today looking for work. Sadly, no one was hiring. No one! Forget about finding a job working off the books! I hate it. I’m starting to understand, London is not New York. Maybe I just need someone to throw a shoe at me and tell me to go back home. Click and See: shoe reference.

So being that I was already in a bad mood, I decided to walk back to the tube instead of hoping on the bus… that’s when my day got worse. I already knew those boys were going to give me trouble. I just had a gut feeling they were going to bother me. It was about six high school boys hanging out in the middle of the same block I was walking down. I walked by them waiting for them to say something to me. They must have known I knew something was up. They waited until I passed them to throw something at me. Smack, right on my butt. I turned around, looked down on the ground at what looked like a piece of black leather. I looked up and gave them all the evil eye and continued walking. Despite my efforts to walk a bit faster, not even a second passed when I got smacked in the ear with another flying object. This time, it was a studded leather glove.

Now, I’m usually able to keep my cool, but with the accumulation of issues I was already having… you can see why my first move would not be to turn the other cheek and keep walking. It turned out, that’s what I ended up doing, but wow did that take a lot out of me to do! I really wanted to pick up the glove from the floor and find a nearby dog park and have a dog poop on it. Like seriously, did I have a flashing neon sign on me that said, “Pick on me”?

It’s almost a miracle I kept my cool. I thought back at the time I was mugged in Barcelona and realized that these boys were probably trying to distract me so they could gang up on me and run away with my stuff. The area I was walking in wasn’t the safest and it was dark. It was then that I turned around again, picked up my pace and kept walking.

After all that, Al and I agreed I needed a drink. We met up at a pub for a beer and made friends with the three dudes sitting next to us. They also reconfirmed that the boys were probably trying to steal my bag.

Overall, I’m fine! Please don’t get any ideas that I need to carry mace around with me. (It’s not allowed here anyway- No weapons) Nor do I think I would use mace in that situation. I just wanted to punch them. A good friend of mine told me today, “Keep your head up… you’re gonna make it out there… you from the Bronx remember?”

I feel like Shipoopi!

Why did I eat all that food? They make fun of Americans eating too much food, but they have all you can eat buffets in London too! I ate at one today. I was just so hungry and I really wanted to chomp down as much food as possible. It was actually a waste of money I think. I could hardly down my second plate. I practically forced myself to finish the food left on my plate.
I'm already limiting how much I spend on food. I definitely can't afford to not eat... especially at this spot.




And what’s good with their toilets?



This thing looks like it belongs in a club called Ice Babies or something… not a Chinese buffet!

Cooh Whip

Al and I went to check out a flat today. Although her and I had some disagreements about certain areas to live in, we both agreed to contact this Irish couple that was renting out their upstairs flat for a decent price. Despite the flat being absolutely gorgeous and clean and spacious, Al and I declined the offer. Pauline, the Irish woman who showed us the flat, wasn’t really cool with having guests over and her flat was really far away from the tube… not to mention, right next to a cemetery, which made it pretty creepy to walk by.

Pauline, a fairly nice and quite woman in nature, had Al and I questioning more than just the flat when we left. I don’t actually ever recall feeling this awkward with a landlord before. I left there thinking, WTF does she do with her free time?

After a simple question about the transportation options in the area, Pauline specifically explained that she worked late at a gentlemen’s club and sometimes needed to take the 69 bus home.




(No lie, this is the only bus in the area that ran all night). And she explained that this was the best bus to take home when she missed the last train of the night… I mean the tube… I mean… geeze, what other word for transportation can I use that doesn’t make this story sound sexual?

Seriously, I even regret asking if I could see the closet next to the bathroom. She totally put up her hand and said “oh yeah, that’s my closet.” Whoa whoa! Did she just give Al and I the hand? Like okay! It can’t be that messy. What the hell is she hiding in there? A whip? Some CooH Whip ? A black leather pair of pants and some five-inch heels?

Apparently that closet was for her “seasonal clothing.” What else do you say to that other than what I did, “Oh yeah, I figured.”

Putting you on some CULTURA!!

This is a popular song out here...

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=w9KnuJZkBjg

I don't understand the video... or why she needs to be in her underwear to smash walls, or why she would walk into a random house like that, how how she gets her hair to be so shiny...

PICTURES!!

St. Pauls around Christmas time


Christmas Time LONDON

I need a visa, no not the credit card although that might help

Dec 15th, 2008

SOOooo… I can’t punch anyone in the butt yet. Although the training/trial workday went well, my lack of working papers made me unqualified for the position. GRRR! I’m actually not upset that I am unqualified for the position; I’m upset that they had me come in for the shift if they already knew that I couldn’t work!

The night didn’t go that bad, although I was on the verge of tears when I left that place. I made three pounds that night in tips and I found out that they liked me but couldn’t keep me. This is why Sarina, you can’t get your hopes up, because you feel like shit afterwards.

I went home yearning to find a coffee shop where I could down a yummy latte and calm my nerves. Unfortunately, I didn’t find an open coffee shop, so I went home, downed two cups of tea and a pack of cookies and passed out- the reason this blog is posted late. Sorry! I’ll get better. I’m going to blame it on the jetlag.

The good that came out of the experience- I made friends. The waitress I trained with at the bar really liked me and told me she would love to hang out sometime. Her name is Justine. She’s from Australia. She’d only been working at the bar three weeks, yet looked as if she had been working there three years. She was exhausted. She and I shared the same ambitions; she also just finished school and had come to London looking for work in what she studied. Unfortunately for her, the waitressing job had her working so much, she hardly had time for herself or time to look for other daytime work.

Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t get the job.

I was invited to a party this Sunday. The bar back at the bar, Obi, also took a liking to me, and said he would try and see if any of his friends knew anything about getting a visa. He also said in the meantime, I should come and hang out on Sunday. He’s apparently having a party and Al and I were more than welcome to come. Let’s see how that goes.

So it’s back to square one. (Honestly, where the hell did that cliché come from? Square one? Makes no sense?) Back to the drawing board! (Haha why bother? I hate clichés anyway). Like I said before, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t get this job. They were only going to pay me six pounds 50 pence an hour and with taxes, I probably would have been eating bread and cheese everyday. Besides, this is the point of the challenge! Things aren’t supposed to come this easy. My whole life I’ve somehow been able to wean my way into things. Even playing baseball, I’ve always been able to talk my way onto a team despite the fact that women weren’t allowed to play in the league.

This just makes me more motivated. It’s not even a week since I’ve landed and I’m already panicking. “Tenga paciencia!” (That’s what my mom would tell me.)

I’m happy I finally have sheets and a blanket! Yay to at least a month of warm nights!

Taking Blanket Donations

Dec 14th, 2oo8

I slept until 2pm today. I woke up with my sweats and my 60% wool pea coat over me. I don’t have a blanket or sheets or anything really. I woke up late and couldn’t make it to the stores to buy anything either. Al and I became really sick after taking a multi-vitamin on an empty stomach. Al actually threw up. I curled myself into a small ball until I felt I could walk to the store to buy a sandwich.

With this kind of start, I knew I wasn’t going to get a lot done, which is kind of unfortunate. I’m panicking- I work tomorrow. I can’t even understand people enough when they speak to me, what am I supposed to do when I take a drink order? My plan, just give everyone gin and tonic.
I just have a lot to do to settle in- like I have no sheets or blankets! Funny, I didn’t realize how the small things could make such a difference in how you operate. Maybe sheets and blankets aren’t that small of a thing, but it’s something I often take for granted.

I just can’t stop thinking, what if I actually bag this job?! First off, I will be working till 3 am some nights, which could be a killer. Secondly, I’m illegally working there, so who knows how that’s going to work out. I mean the manager dude didn’t seem to mind. No, I think I’m more excited about working tomorrow and scared to admit it because everything could actually be working out as planned. I knew I obviously couldn’t just come over to another country and land a job as a reporter or producer on a network television station off the bat (give me a month). But, I did expect to get a job.

So hopefully, if this whole job goes well tomorrow, I can punch everyone in the butt and be like, YO, YOU SEE!

What am I gona do about my bed?

I had a large lump on my boob this afternoon and for the first and only time in my life, it was a good thing. I had to stash a bulk of 500 pounds (AKA British dollars not weight… I can’t believe you would think this… I’m not that strong) in my bra. I didn’t really know where else to put the money and I needed it for my apartment deposit and rent. YAY for Al and I, yes we found an apartment! I actually needed more than that, but that was all the bank would allow me to take out. The bank, meaning the ATM machine, the actual bank was closed today, but every stinking ATM machine I went to denied me any further access to my money from EITHER of my bank accounts! Like bro, what if I wanted to really ball out in London? I’m going to be stopped by a bunch of computer ATM machines in London!?

It was pouring rain all day. Al and I were walking in the street drenched with all our luggage and a British dude passed us and was like… “HAHA, welcome to London!” His sarcasm didn’t really amuse me at that point, I really just wanted to get to our damn apartment so I could finally stop wearing the same clothes and imagine myself in something other than a hostile bed.

The apartment itself is not the best situation, but it’s something! Plus it will help me save some money so I can get more situated. Basically, the apartment is a four bedroom flat in East London. It has one bathroom and kitchen for four rooms. Al and I are sharing the largest room on the first floor. We each have our own twin bed (which currently has no sheets). Yes, I am actually rocking out in my Syracuse hoody and sweatpants and my warm wool socks my mom bought me one Christmas. Thanks mom. (Special thanks to Al for taking these pictures of me at one of my lowest moments.)




It’s cold here! But I’m thankful because the flat has good heat. Unfortunately, it didn’t come on right away and I was late to an interview because I couldn’t move far from the radiator.

As far as the job situation, things are surprisingly looking up. I randomly applied to a cocktail waitress position out of fear that if I didn’t start applying to jobs, I would be going home a lot sooner than I want to. I didn’t expect any reply back, but I do have a lot of New York City waitressing experience. I assume that was the reason the manager called me back. Unfortunately, since I don’t have a visa or working papers, I was extremely nervous about heading over to the interview.

(see video)

The interview shouldn’t have gone as smoothly as it did. Not only was I thirty minutes late, but the application I needed to fill out included every question imaginable on my bank information, visa and working papers. I left half the application blank and stood at the bar waiting to speak to the manager while trying to calmly think of a story as to why I would even bother coming in for an interview without working papers. A tall young spiky haired man came up to me, it was Andy. Nervous as hell, as he sifted through my half empty application form, he looked at me and asked about possible working hours. “So, we close at 3am three days a week, is this okay with you?” (I was waiting for a much harsher question obviously) “Yea, that’s fine!” Eventually, he asked me about my visa, and thankfully, I came up with the excuse that I originally came here with the intention to work for a company who was also supposed to sponsor me, but upon my arrival last week I found out that due to the bad economy, the company would no longer be able to utilize my work, so poor me is now stuck in London hoping to stay but unfortunately is currently without a work visa. Andy shook my hand told me to come in on Monday for a trial workday.

LONDON STINKS, I MEAN SINKS

HOW TO WASH YOUR HANDS!!!! Sinks in London

Second guessing

This morning was hard. With only two hours of sleep, Al and I forced ourselves out of bed out of fear that we wouldn’t be able to afford to stay in London much longer.

We walked to the Syracuse University London School hoping we would get some advice on where to find a cheap flat or for work. Although it was refreshing to go and visit my old school and see some old faces, I was put off by most of the staff’s attitudes about my lack of a visa. “I don’t think you’re going to find anything in this economy.” “How were you expecting to work without a visa?” “You’re going to have to get a visa before you even think about applying to any jobs out here” Yada Yada Yada blah blah shut your mouth!

I tried so hard not to cry in that building. Al even noticed a lost of faith in me. “Everything is going to be okay!” Ugh, easy for her to say! She has a visa. Linda, the main jefe of the University advised that I look immediately for a visa because it wouldn’t be fair if I had to leave Al on a flat contract that I couldn’t help pay for.

Al leaned over and whispered, “We can start looking for a job for you first.”

More than just Jetlagged

I made it to London...

This whole trip so far is an unexpected mess. The parts I assumed would be on the easier side are a lot harder than expected, then again, the obstacles I expected to face never came up. Because I took a connecting flight from Dublin to London, I only had to deal with the Irish customs security and not the British. The security guard only asked me how long I was going to be in London and if I had been kicked out of London before. Jokingly, I said, “No… well, I almost did the first time.” I don’t think he got the joke right away, nonetheless I got through.

This is where it begins.
Its 325 am…. And I am wide-awake. I passed out yesterday around 10pm after downing two gigantic vanilla lattes to keep myself awake throughout the day. It’s a 5-hour time difference over here and I tried so hard to avoid jetlag. Around 9pm, Al and I grabbed a late fish and chips dinner at the bar around the corner of our hostel. (I know how stereotypical right?!) I couldn’t even finish the pint of Guinness I had for dessert.

I hoped the caffeine rush and full stomach would keep me passed out until at least 7am. Even after taking that late night pee, I am struggling to lie back down and attempt to sleep. I am wide-awake and now I’ve woke up Al and one of the other dudes also sleeping in my hostel room.

There are actually two dudes sleeping in my hostel room. Ah, the beauty of Europe and youth. In hopes of saving some money, Al and I decided to skip out on a hotel for the night and book a hostel room instead. (Side note: one of the dudes in the room is now snoring fairly loudly and I no longer feel guilty being awake and typing on my keyboard.)

Any who…
My connecting flight was delayed due to ice on the runway at one of the London airports. I had to recheck my luggage and re-enter security to take a different flight. I then lugged my 75-pound suitcase (don’t worry it has wheels!) and carry-on bags around London from the airport. London surprisingly does not have a lot of handicap/wheelchair accessible tube stations. Regretting that we should have taken a cab, I think I found every staircase on my tube ride to the hostel. Funny, not as many people offered to help Al and I with our luggage as I expected.

We arrived at the hostel around 2pm. A cheery young dude with spiked up hair greeted me with a handshake at the front desk. Ha-ha, I could tell this guy flirted with every decent looking woman that walked in the hostel. It’s a four-person room, with two bunk beds. Al took the top bunk. And although I can’t see her, I know she is awake right now wondering when I am going to fall back asleep.

One of the guys sharing the room with us is a Mexican man named Caesar. I’m assuming he’s in his mid thirties, though, he might just age bad. He works as a freelance cameraman for a television station here and has been bouncing around London for a place to stay for about a month. The other dude staying in our room I don’t know, he came in late last night when the light in the room was already off.

I passed out with my clothes on and I’m now lying on the bottom bunk still wearing the skinny jeans and a tee shirt I wore out to get a drink with last night. I didn’t feel like changing and going through my luggage to find another pair of clothes. I honestly just want to find a place to live a quickly as possible so I can unpack my things.

It’s almost 4 am and I can’t sleep. I think I’m too nervous. What I assumed would be easy like finding an apartment, turned out to be a very difficult task. Getting through customs, which I had been most worried about, was the easiest part of this trip so far. All the apartments we’ve found so far are too expensive. Maybe if the exchange rate was a bit lower Al and I could try and look at an apartment that costs a little more, but it’s still about a dollar fifty to the pound. Since I nor Al has a job yet, we we’re looking for something for around four hundred pounds a month each which I guess would be about six hundred a month in US dollars right now with the exchange rate.

Tomorrow Al and I will try again. First thing on the list is to get a cell phone so at least we can try calling a couple landlords about apartments. We also plan on going by the Syracuse University building out here and see if they can help us out with some advice on what to do.

I’m scared my money supply is going to run out quicker than expected. I feel guilty I ate dinner last night.

Foreshadowing

I’m on the train and there is not only a dude with kilt skirt sitting directly across from me, but a poor begging woman sitting right next to me. Ugh she smells bad too... or is that me? No, it's definitely her!

Ugh, God forbid that's me on the tube in another month.
I usually don’t give money to the homeless; I assume they use their money for things other than food. Plus living in the Bronx, if I gave a dollar to every poor person I saw, I would be one of them. My mother told me in order to help the poor don’t become one! But now this guilt is telling me that if I don’t give this woman sitting next to me money, lets just say what goes around comes around…

I put this front on like I'm going to be okay.
I tell my friends “Hey guys, come on! It’s me! I’m going to be fine!”

Some of my friends are praying I find a nice boy guy out there…
One of them told me, “Make sure you pack your heels!”
I packed three.

Will I be able to eat?
Get manicures?

Buy beer?
Haircuts?

Join a softball league?
Am I doing this for more than just me?

I need to confess that I am scared.
Lets just say I don’t have a specific plan, but I have an order of doing things…
I fly out manana. Let’s see how this goes.

I got a stupid ticket yesterday for waking up 8 minutes late and not moving my car in time for street cleaning.
Yuck!

I woke that morning with my head springing off my pillow like a teenager waking up and remembering that 10-page paper was due today. A nice morning sprint down six flights of stairs with my sneakers untied and my sweat pants falling off my butt… I tried to at least casually walk outside my building pretending my car, parked right in front of my building with a big fat orange parking ticket on my car window, wasn’t mine.
Good morning to you too.
Funny, my car should belong to someone else by now. I have a week to sell it and pay off a 45-dollar parking ticket from some cop named SC. I hope he or she steps in poop.
Maybe I’ll sell the car for 2,045 dollars instead of 2,000.

Something new...

I bought a one way ticket to London.

I'm taking a chance. I'm expecting some difficulties. But hey, what do you think the History Channel makes all their shows about? Historical figures that don't take chances? VH1 Behind the Music is all about old famous stars who went through the abuses of drugs, alcohol and rejection. I'm not necessarily hinting that this is what I would be doing out there (unless I start hanging out with Kate Moss), however, I do think I also need a challenge in my life.


As a young women fresh out of college and a heavy addiction to media, I've realized I don't want to start my life working in New York City, with a nine to five job and renting a little studio apartment in Harlem, spending just as much a month on rent as I do now on my two bedroom apartment in the Bronx.

As a woman trying to still get her foot in the door for a job in radio/television, I would like to at least like live somewhere else, as a way to give myself a different perspective on life, help make connections and if nothing else, have an interesting story to tell the guy sitting next to me at a bar one day.

I'm scared that I will get a job in the city and never really have an opportunity to travel the way I can at this point in my life... no strings attached! The only thing I own is my car, and that's hard enough to get rid of! Imagine if I actually had a husband, a kid, a job! You can't sell those things on craigslist, I checked... although I'm sure someone will try now that I mentioned it.

No way man, I'm out.

I feel people in the media, and actually people in general, need to get a feel for something new. I assume one day I will head back to New York City, plop myself a job somewhere, and have so much more to bring to the table once I've experienced something other than America. Think of how refreshing it is to pop open a new and fresh cold can of Sprite on a hot summer day rather than just guzzling down water from the water fountain that has gum stuck to the knob. Think of all the new commercials we look forward to on Super Bowl Sunday and how awesome it is to see something else other than that stupid Optimum online guy I see all the time on television.

Change is good.

I'm out to London... or as the saying goes "across the pond" hence the name of my blogg... I haven't crossed it yet, but soon...