See what I did there?
Today has been a real plus on many fronts.
-I finally found a financial instituion which did not view my transient status as a threat to quiet pubs, Buckingham Palace, understated sweaters and a decent cup of tea. As of Tuesday I will be free from the rather terrifying responsibility of having almost a thousand pounds just laying about!
-On the less exciting, but useful side, I grabbed an appointment with a temp agency office which is just down the road from my cousin's. This one specializes in personal assistent and secretary work, which would pay some bills and build up my CV. The appointment is on Wednesday, but I am much more excited by this last development.
As is habit now, I scoured the internet for job postings this morning and applied for a pile. Later on I got a phone message, ironically while I was talking with the people at the temp agency, from another recruitment office in the same company (Reed). It was in regards to a job as a Conference Producer (where I would basically put together exciting presentations on new books and the like, for corporate meetings et al). The pay was 25,000 pounds annual, so you better believe I called her back!
Unfortunatly it seems that in the hour from when the woman called and when I called back, her superiors upped the necessary qualifications for the job - thus this particular role is a longshot at best. But I did get an unexpected and highly useful bit of instruction over the phone in how to hone my CV so as to bring joy to the leathery heart of any prospective publishing recruitment exec. This alone would have been grand.
But I was then told that though I might not get the CP job, I do sound "very promising" and once I've finished improving my CV - I can schedule an appointment with the publishing recruitment office for whenever is good for me! I'll aim for Monday or Tuesday, since I'd like to dodge secretarial work all together if possible. The added bonus of getting in with either recruitment office is that they can sponsor me to get that all important National Insurance number.
Well, hot crackers! It looks like I might be lucky enough to avoid working an absolute garbage job and if anything has left me feeling good about my decision to move here, then it is that.
On the amusement side of things, my plans have switched once again and we are back to a weekend in Reading. Some unexpected cash came up, so I think I shall use to go out and renew my friendships out west. This time I shall make sure to bring my camera and take some pictures which may or may not incriminate me.
Oi! vs Eh?
Last time I was in England, you could count on all but the after hours places closing at midnight. Luckily it seems that things have changed and it is now possible for most pubs and nightclubs to buy a licence which lets they stay up until the civilized hour of 3am. This bodes well for tomorrow night!
Friday, October 13, 2006
I'm a clever boy who plays with toys
If you scroll right to the bottom of the page you will now find my trailer, embedded. Hurrah!
And if this post works as it should, there shall be a picture of a pub whose name still causes me to pause when I walk by.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Who's a big boy now then? Eh? Eh?
A little update which might amuse some. I finally bought my first cell phone (AKA "mobile) today, so maybe I will finally learn how to use the stupid things. Why, it could only be a matter of days before I send an obscene text message to some hapless young woman sitting across from me on the bus.
Er...
Anyways, good news! The first sniff of paid writing work came in today from a website, which had advertised at the best temp site I've found so far. A good article can net upwards of fifty pounds (with the possability of vouchers, it seems). It would just be a little money on the side, I'm certainly not done hunting for a job....but to have some writing experience on my CV would be marvelous. A few decent articles for these people, who tell me that they want stuff from a student or recent graduate perspective, would allow me to apply for some rather nice jobs I've seen advertised.
With a word minimum of 350 and a fortnightly publishing schedule, I think I should easily be able to fit this in with the rest of the mess.
We are all different...except for identical twins, who don't count as they aren't really human - are they? Really? Huh...
1) Do you like babies? Then England is for you! I have seen basically more babies in the past while than I can remember seeing during my last six months in Canada. While in Broadstairs I overheard on the radio that England is the number one nation in Europe for having "children with children" (14-24). I thought conventional wisdom taught that as nations became more developed, birth rates declined - Japan being a glaring example - but apparently the English have found the secret to fitting more sex into the hectic twenty-first century lives we now lead.
Or maybe their just isn't enough education about birth control?
Er...
Anyways, good news! The first sniff of paid writing work came in today from a website, which had advertised at the best temp site I've found so far. A good article can net upwards of fifty pounds (with the possability of vouchers, it seems). It would just be a little money on the side, I'm certainly not done hunting for a job....but to have some writing experience on my CV would be marvelous. A few decent articles for these people, who tell me that they want stuff from a student or recent graduate perspective, would allow me to apply for some rather nice jobs I've seen advertised.
With a word minimum of 350 and a fortnightly publishing schedule, I think I should easily be able to fit this in with the rest of the mess.
We are all different...except for identical twins, who don't count as they aren't really human - are they? Really? Huh...
1) Do you like babies? Then England is for you! I have seen basically more babies in the past while than I can remember seeing during my last six months in Canada. While in Broadstairs I overheard on the radio that England is the number one nation in Europe for having "children with children" (14-24). I thought conventional wisdom taught that as nations became more developed, birth rates declined - Japan being a glaring example - but apparently the English have found the secret to fitting more sex into the hectic twenty-first century lives we now lead.
Or maybe their just isn't enough education about birth control?
Before it all slips out...
...I shall blather a bit.
Broadstairs is a great beach town and I am lucky to have an Aunt who lives right up by the water in a large home which used to serve as a hotel. She still rents rooms to travelling students sometimes but generally I can always count on there being a spare room for me to sleep in. As mentioned earlier, this a great thing!
Over the course of the weekend I spent a lot of time with a very intense relaxation ("intense relaxation"?) program which I drew up on the margins of something more important - which was in turn written on the back of the train ticket which took me there. Going to Broadstairs is about the same as going to Toronto, in terms of distance. You're looking at about three hours of transit in total if you take the train, which I always do. Thanks to the tube and the national railway system, English buses are still a mostly unknown thing to me - not unlike unicorns and being succinct when I speak.
There isn't a whole hell of a lot to say about Broadstairs other than the sea air is wonderful and it's a rather typical tourist town - not that "typical" is a derogatory term here. You've got lots of sand, places to drink and eat by the sand, a great bookstore (Albion Books) so you can buy something to read by the sand, swimwear stores where you can buy trunks to fill with the sand and on and on. Meanwhile, the family I have there (my mother's sister Liz, her husband Phil and their children) are very friendly and kind. True story!
Coming back into London on Tuesday, I felt very refreshed - which is good because I am now in a frantic rush to get a job which isn't total shit (re: retail/food) and a place, preferably with post-Dickensian amenities, by the end of the month. If this does not happen, then I may have to retreat to Reading and stay with some old University pals of my parents - who, funny enough, are the parents of one of my own pals in Reading. All hope is not lost if I have to go down that path - I'll just earn some money in Reading and then tunnel back into London. Luckily Reading is only about a half hour on the train headed west out of Victoria station, which is roughly in the heart of London...so I am not super worried. It would take some pretty outlandish events to send me packing back to Canada, that is for sure!
Reading, meanwhile, is a perfectly nice town - though maybe not as glamorous as London, there is still plenty to appreciate about it. Most of it reminds me of Kanata, which is fitting because it might wind up being absorbed as a suburb of London as the latter continues to roll across the countryside in search of smaller cities for sustenence.
Anyways, I won't be hitting up Reading this weekend so as to save cash - but I will instead make that planned trip to the heart of London which seduced me in my ill spent youth (of two years ago...). I caught glimpses of it through the high arched doors in Victoria station and even that lifted my spirits a bit - though I had to laugh at how the sun was shining just perfectly so as to suggest that you might spot a winged cherub hiding behing the weathervane on a nearby roof, reading the London Times and complaining about immigrants.
A stand up comedian from the early '90s might say "Ya see, people on this side of the Atlantic are like that and people on this side eat their toast like THAT"
1) Roads are generally much narrower and the single lane's can sometimes feel almost like a tunnel with a sun roof. The breadth of Bank street seems like a footbal field by comparison.
2) Temp employment agencies in London are very popular and numerous. Unlike the ones I encountered in Ottawa, these actually seem to be competent and specialized in a variety of fields. My cousin Suzanne tells me that all of her work in England has been attained through these agencies and that it was been fine for her. Encouraging!
Broadstairs is a great beach town and I am lucky to have an Aunt who lives right up by the water in a large home which used to serve as a hotel. She still rents rooms to travelling students sometimes but generally I can always count on there being a spare room for me to sleep in. As mentioned earlier, this a great thing!
Over the course of the weekend I spent a lot of time with a very intense relaxation ("intense relaxation"?) program which I drew up on the margins of something more important - which was in turn written on the back of the train ticket which took me there. Going to Broadstairs is about the same as going to Toronto, in terms of distance. You're looking at about three hours of transit in total if you take the train, which I always do. Thanks to the tube and the national railway system, English buses are still a mostly unknown thing to me - not unlike unicorns and being succinct when I speak.
There isn't a whole hell of a lot to say about Broadstairs other than the sea air is wonderful and it's a rather typical tourist town - not that "typical" is a derogatory term here. You've got lots of sand, places to drink and eat by the sand, a great bookstore (Albion Books) so you can buy something to read by the sand, swimwear stores where you can buy trunks to fill with the sand and on and on. Meanwhile, the family I have there (my mother's sister Liz, her husband Phil and their children) are very friendly and kind. True story!
Coming back into London on Tuesday, I felt very refreshed - which is good because I am now in a frantic rush to get a job which isn't total shit (re: retail/food) and a place, preferably with post-Dickensian amenities, by the end of the month. If this does not happen, then I may have to retreat to Reading and stay with some old University pals of my parents - who, funny enough, are the parents of one of my own pals in Reading. All hope is not lost if I have to go down that path - I'll just earn some money in Reading and then tunnel back into London. Luckily Reading is only about a half hour on the train headed west out of Victoria station, which is roughly in the heart of London...so I am not super worried. It would take some pretty outlandish events to send me packing back to Canada, that is for sure!
Reading, meanwhile, is a perfectly nice town - though maybe not as glamorous as London, there is still plenty to appreciate about it. Most of it reminds me of Kanata, which is fitting because it might wind up being absorbed as a suburb of London as the latter continues to roll across the countryside in search of smaller cities for sustenence.
Anyways, I won't be hitting up Reading this weekend so as to save cash - but I will instead make that planned trip to the heart of London which seduced me in my ill spent youth (of two years ago...). I caught glimpses of it through the high arched doors in Victoria station and even that lifted my spirits a bit - though I had to laugh at how the sun was shining just perfectly so as to suggest that you might spot a winged cherub hiding behing the weathervane on a nearby roof, reading the London Times and complaining about immigrants.
A stand up comedian from the early '90s might say "Ya see, people on this side of the Atlantic are like that and people on this side eat their toast like THAT"
1) Roads are generally much narrower and the single lane's can sometimes feel almost like a tunnel with a sun roof. The breadth of Bank street seems like a footbal field by comparison.
2) Temp employment agencies in London are very popular and numerous. Unlike the ones I encountered in Ottawa, these actually seem to be competent and specialized in a variety of fields. My cousin Suzanne tells me that all of her work in England has been attained through these agencies and that it was been fine for her. Encouraging!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Oh my!
Okay! So it turns out that my cousin would like me to move out by the end of the month. This is doable, but definitly sooner than I was expecting. I expect things to be pretty frantic - so I thought I would just toss this up to let you guys know why I might be unusually cranky and bad about correspondence in the near future. I will continue to update this site, but I am afraid that all bet's are off with email until I am set up. Anyways, I need to get back to The Task At Hand right now, but I will do a wordy little number before bed tonight.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Sloe Gin Goes Fast (Clever!)
Let's see now, today I...
-Got up at 11am.
-Had some orange juice, then took a long walk along the coast.
-Came back into Uncle Phil and Aunt Liz's house for five hours of good food, drink, stories and two hilarious looking boxer dogs. They are named Harvey and Webster, and you know they are a good breed of dog because they are big enough to wrestle with, while friendly enough to be left around small children. Plus their default expression make's me want to burst out laughing almost every time.
-...recharged my iPod?
I normally wouldn't consider this a productive day, but this time I will. After a brief strut across my internet catwalk, I reckon I'll go read some more of my Hunter S. Thompson by the seaside. Take that, productivity!
Broadstairs has done wonders for me. Yesterday I pierced the thick, stodgy veil of jetlag and felt like something other than Oliver The Lump for the first time since I got here. I felt more like Oliver the Hustler or Oliver the Writer (or Oliver the Setting Himself Up for an Easy Joke) and proceeded accordingly. But then, it would be hard not to get inspired when the English channel is maybe one hundred feet from your bedroom. Two nights in a row I've been treated to a full moon reflecting off the water. This has been rendered equal parts lovely and horrifying, thanks to H.P. Lovecraft - but I'll take it.
I have, of course, forgotten to bring my bloody camera. Ah well, my Aunt Liz has made it clear I'm welcome up here any old time. This is a great resource to have for sure...for as much as I love big cities, I do need a break from them once in a while and Carp is now too far to just sling myself over for a weekend. This particular break is exactly what I needed....and maybe what I should have done during my first few days in the country - instead of trying to be super productive during every waking moment. When I roll back into Tottenham sometime Tuesday, I shall have the fire in my belly necessary to begin shaking my delicious behind under the noses of many a prospective employer. Hopefully enough to justify heading out to Redding next weekend.
Or at least the purchase of a new pair of pants. Three pairs of blue jeans and two dress pants are not enough for this fashion-minded man (who might have been able to pack more pants, but size fourteen shoes take up a lot of room!). Anyways...more to report when I am not stuffed to the point of bursting.
We are all filthy foreigners to someone...
1) Shoe sizes in the UK are all generally one size smaller than the North American equivelent. Ergo my size 14 is a 13 here. Man, that is boring...I'd better follow up with something true, yet engaging and classy.
2) Bare tits, you will see plenty of them in the weekly SUN. I suppose this does put it slightly ahead of our own much beloved Ottawa Sun, the only boobs it features being our local politicians!
See what I did there?
3) Ladies, if you are the only woman within sight and you overhear men (of any age) using the phrase "moose" or "shot-putter" while looking in your general direction...give them a smack. They've earned it.
-Got up at 11am.
-Had some orange juice, then took a long walk along the coast.
-Came back into Uncle Phil and Aunt Liz's house for five hours of good food, drink, stories and two hilarious looking boxer dogs. They are named Harvey and Webster, and you know they are a good breed of dog because they are big enough to wrestle with, while friendly enough to be left around small children. Plus their default expression make's me want to burst out laughing almost every time.
-...recharged my iPod?
I normally wouldn't consider this a productive day, but this time I will. After a brief strut across my internet catwalk, I reckon I'll go read some more of my Hunter S. Thompson by the seaside. Take that, productivity!
Broadstairs has done wonders for me. Yesterday I pierced the thick, stodgy veil of jetlag and felt like something other than Oliver The Lump for the first time since I got here. I felt more like Oliver the Hustler or Oliver the Writer (or Oliver the Setting Himself Up for an Easy Joke) and proceeded accordingly. But then, it would be hard not to get inspired when the English channel is maybe one hundred feet from your bedroom. Two nights in a row I've been treated to a full moon reflecting off the water. This has been rendered equal parts lovely and horrifying, thanks to H.P. Lovecraft - but I'll take it.
I have, of course, forgotten to bring my bloody camera. Ah well, my Aunt Liz has made it clear I'm welcome up here any old time. This is a great resource to have for sure...for as much as I love big cities, I do need a break from them once in a while and Carp is now too far to just sling myself over for a weekend. This particular break is exactly what I needed....and maybe what I should have done during my first few days in the country - instead of trying to be super productive during every waking moment. When I roll back into Tottenham sometime Tuesday, I shall have the fire in my belly necessary to begin shaking my delicious behind under the noses of many a prospective employer. Hopefully enough to justify heading out to Redding next weekend.
Or at least the purchase of a new pair of pants. Three pairs of blue jeans and two dress pants are not enough for this fashion-minded man (who might have been able to pack more pants, but size fourteen shoes take up a lot of room!). Anyways...more to report when I am not stuffed to the point of bursting.
We are all filthy foreigners to someone...
1) Shoe sizes in the UK are all generally one size smaller than the North American equivelent. Ergo my size 14 is a 13 here. Man, that is boring...I'd better follow up with something true, yet engaging and classy.
2) Bare tits, you will see plenty of them in the weekly SUN. I suppose this does put it slightly ahead of our own much beloved Ottawa Sun, the only boobs it features being our local politicians!
See what I did there?
3) Ladies, if you are the only woman within sight and you overhear men (of any age) using the phrase "moose" or "shot-putter" while looking in your general direction...give them a smack. They've earned it.
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