*Vintage 1984

On Ross' Painful Flirting

2010-07-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

So I am watching Friends right now, and it is the episode where Ross tried to flirt with the pizza lady. It's really funny, but also quite painful to watch. I always cringe when people flirt poorly. I am quite bad at flirting myself; or at least I think I am. I'm not entirely sure, to be fair. Its not often that we get to see ourselves in action. It really is bad though, to watch other people flirt. The worst is watching my students flirt. Ugh. It makes me want to vomit, most of the time. Their flirting is like that early days, preliminary stuff, where you just giggle all the time if you're a girl, and make macho jokes and act like a general buffoon if you are a boy. They don't really know how to be subtle....ugh. Barf. I can't even describe how disgusting it is!

Anyways, I was going to blabber on forever, but I'm not in the mood to be long winded. Speak soon!

On Moving To A New Blog

2009-01-18T05:20:00.000-08:00

Alright, so I'm going to very briefly update here to let you know that I've decided to use my Janey Canuck blog as my only blog from here on in; it's just one that more people read, since I advertise it on my Facebook. I will keep this one online, mostly for myself, since it's always nice to look back of my past and remember...

please see the new blog at:

http://janeycanuck.blogspot.com

Cheers, see you there!

On Wasting Time At School And Other Business

2008-11-24T13:28:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in my classroom, and it's 5:07. I'm waiting patiently for Rachel to finish marking up some exams, whilst freezing my ass off. I'm not entirely sure why, but it seems as if the temperature in my room is constantly evading my comfort zone. It's either ridiculously hot and stuffy in here, or else bone chillingly cold. There is no happy medium, rather just a constant fluctuation that annoys me (and my students) to no end. Tonight it seems worse than usual though. My finger tips are actually a touch purple, which is never a good sign. That is why I decided to try updating the blog. A steady stream of blood to my fingers, spurned on by the insane pace at which I type, should help induce some warmth. My toes, however, are a lost cause.

In fact, it was just the other day that I realize that my feet are being left literally in the cold these days. It appears that with all my planning and packing, I've failed to sufficiently provide for my feet. The shoes I brought over were summer shoes, no doubt about it. Cute flats, a crummy pair of slip on trainers (that my mates affectionately call the ugliest shoes in the world, bless), and my tried-and-true red patent leather peep toes. Not the type of shoes that would see you through winter, in any country. No, I clearly was not thinking in terms of the distant future; winter.

I was watching Jason play football on Saturday, when I was struck with the complexity of my situation. It was minus SOMETHING for sure, and sitting on a bench watching the game was hell on earth (if hell happens to be an extremely cold place instead of extremely hot. It's a place of extremes, and that's all that matters). For all my bragging about being a 'tough and hearty' Canadian girl, it didn't take me long to admit that I was freezing my ass, and in this case toes, off. the flimsy little brown flats that I was wearing were doing nothing by way of protecting my toes from the elements. I tried in vain to position myself so that my feet were covered by some part of my body. I tried folding my legs up and sitting on them, but this was only comfortable for about five minutes before the bones in my heels started to dig into me. I tried to sit cross-legged on the bench, only to realize that sitting in this position is only feasible for children. Apparently I can't stretch well that way any more. It felt like I was going to pull my groin out, not to mention the fact that my tailbone was effectively placed in the most uncomfortable position ever; directly on the hard wooden slab that was my seat. I didn't last long sitting that way, that's for sure. I even took off my scarf, and wrapped it around my feet, in what surely must have made me look mildly retarded. Again, this did not provide me with the comfort I sought.

Instead, I took to bouncing my feet up and down off the pavement, in an attempt to get the warmth of my blood flowing to them. This tactic worked somewhat, but it still did not keep my feet from feeling detached from my body at the end of two and a half hours.

The entire time I was jiggling my feet, the thought of my lusciously padded Emu's was swimming through my head. I recalled a time last year, in Thunder Bay, when my previous winter boots and succumbed to the harsh realities of a true Canadian winter. The zipper had split down the side, as I tried to cram my increasingly warmth-protected feet and lower calf into them. Turns out those boots could only accept my bare leg, and not the jean and long-john clad one I tried to stuff into them. Shame, really, as they were a rather cute pair of boots.

The Emu's had been purchased after hours of deliberation in the Mall in Thunder Bay. Faced with -50 degree temperatures, I simply could not brave the elements without the best in foot protection. I looked at a few pair of Uggs, and nearly bought some, but the Emu's offered me something the Uggs could not; a stylish lace up look. The laces, I reckoned, would allow me to wear as many layers on my bottom half as was necessary. No bursting zippers here! I remember sinking my feet into the thick sheep's wool lining of the boots, and feeling an instant surge of heat. They were the toastiest thing I'd ever experienced. They were Divine. I laced up both pairs, and sauntered around the store, getting a real feel for the boots. My feet, even in my socks, felt as if they were snuggled deep within the bouncy, springy, soft confines of a sheep's back. I cooed at the way they looked on me in the mirror, and instantly was sold.

The true test was wearing them out of the store. Would they withstand the cold temperatures? Turns out they did, and then some. I was never with cold feet last winter. It was a delight.

It was these thoughts that were swimming through my head as I was shuffling my feet in vain. Why, oh why, hadn't I thought to bring my boots with me? My feet were screaming there discontent at me, as was my brain. Silly, silly girl. I suppose that's just my punishment though, for assuming that England wasn't nearly cold enough to warrant Emu's. All I know for certain is that they will be lodged solidly on my feet for the return flight. I want my first steps back in England in January to be in my snuggly warm Emu's.

But enough reminiscing....

Things are going relatively well at school. I feel like I am finally getting into the swing of things with my groups. They're finally, for the most part, starting to respect me. This means that they're actually taking what I say seriously, and participating more in lesson. It was a constant struggle last term, as you are likely well aware. Students are finally getting to know me, on a personal level as well, and I them. More and more of them are stopping in after classes to talk to me. This makes me feel well liked, as I rarely stayed after to talk to my own teachers, unless I a) liked them and b) felt comfortable with them. The only downside to this is that I think some of them like me a touch too much; not necessarily on a 'romantic' level (though some do, I'm told), but on a 'friend' level. I had always hoped to come across as a friendly, approachable teacher, but had hoped that I could draw the line at 'being a friend'. It has not,nor never will be, my intention to befriend the students. As a professional, it's impossible to be an effective teacher and their friend. You just lose too much authority in the process of becoming a friend. Some of my students, though, are increasinly telling me a tad too much. I won't get into it here, for privacy's sake, but some of them tell me things I don't really want to hear. These aren't things that are alarming on a safety level, but are more alarming on a 'shit, I don't want to know you're into that stuff at your age' level. Mind you, I was likely into at least SOME of the stuff they're on about when I was their age. Or perhaps not. I'm not sure, and frankly I would rather not go there.

I have, however, had more than one student come to me and tell me things about other teachers that is not very professional to hear. I make absolutly no comments back, either for or against what they say, but I still feel like it puts me in an awkward position. I don't really relish the idea of hearing students bitch and moan about my co-workers, and I certainly cannot comment on what the students are saying, as that would be 100% unprofessional of me. I also cannot, in good conscience, take their word over that of the people I work with. Rest assured, nothing they say is incriminating, but they do a great disservice to my co-workers on a personal level. It's a tad awkward to listen to, but in most cases I turn off my ears and then switch the topic of conversation. As much as I like to hear that I'm a well liked teacher, I don't like to hear it at the expense of my friends and collegues.

Well, I do believe that Rachel is ready to depart now, which means I must log off! I will try to update this a bit more frequently, but really it's all a matter of when time affords me the opportunity of leisure.

Until then, cheers!

On My New Man

2008-11-12T13:40:00.000-08:00

Alright, so here is the bit that I can't include in my Janey Canuck Blog. I can't post it there for a number of reasons. First, I think Trevor reads it. Second, I know my mother reads it. Third, I know Jason reads it. All of these reasons combine to dictate that I do not, under any circumstances, post what I am about to write now in my PG blog. So, without further ado, here is the juicy details.

Three weeks ago, on the tail of the fiasco I had with Jon, I was out with a female staff member, Nima. She's a really wicked chick. She invited me out to introduce me to some of her boyfriends mates, which was a welcome distraction to me. For awhile it was just Nima, Marc (her boyfriend), his friend Ricky, and myself. Ricky was all over me, and while he wasn't totally ugly, he wasn't really my type at all. A bit hefty,if you catch my drift. After about half an hour of small talk, I decided I wasn't going to meet Mr. Man tonight, and turned on the friendly vibe. That's when I noticed this retardedly hot guy walking up the stairs. I openly stared at him, unconcerned, and thinking it was going to be a passing moment. Turns out it wasn't. He walked up to Marc, gave him that buddy-buddy hand shake that turns into a body hug. Then Marc introduced him to me. Jason. I put on my sexiest grin, and shook his hand while batting my lovely lashes. He grinned back.

We made small talk for awhile, then did a shot or two, then bought some drinks. The night was progressing well. I asked Nima if he was single, and she laughed while telling me he was.
"I KNEW you would like Jas!" she said.
"Oh yes, oh yes!" I giggled back.

Suffice it to say, I brought him back to St. Ives with me that night. In the morning, he was the cutest, most snuggly guy EVER. He told me he was infatuated with my accent, and that he thought I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He kept putting himself down, saying that a guy like him could NEVER get a girl like me. It was well cute. We stayed in bed all day. It was kind of nice. We chatted, fooled around, and chatted some more. I felt a crush developing.

Things moved on from there, with a few lunch dates, dinner dates, and movies. And sex. Lots of really amazing, mind blowing sex. The best. Hands down. Amazing.

Did I mention he's only 19? Oops. Yah, he's only 19. And he's an amazing lover. It's....weird. He's TOO good. He likes to think it's just because we 'work well together'. You see, he's totally in love with me, already. He talks all the time about how amazing I am, and how he's never felt this way (though I know you are likely scoffing at this, saying he's too young to have a breadth of experience. To you nay-sayers, I say eff off. Rachelle. I'm talking to you, here. Ha ha ha!). He really does treat me like gold though. However, I should gualify this with the fact that he doesn't treat me TOO nicely. As you should be aware, I balk at being kept on too short a leash. Too nice guys get the boot sooner rather than later, with me. It's a sad but true thing.

Jason is the perfect mixture. He's mysterious enough at times to keep me guessing, but he's also adorable most of the time. He worships the ground I walk on, which is pretty nice.

I dunno...I like him quite a bit, which is well surprising, especially considering how I feel about the Trevor situation. That is MAJORLY confusing, as I still have feelings for Trevor. I keep trying to overanalyze the situation, and really guage my feelings on the two boys...but it's so hard. Obviously I like Trevor a lot. I think sometimes that he might be the one for me...and other times I think I'm kidding myself to think he'd wait around for me. Obviously I had thought I would wait for him, and look at what's happened? So with that in mind, I keep trying to justify my relationship with Jason. But what if Trevor is a tougher person than me? What if he really does love me too, and he's so committed to the idea of us that he isn't even entertainin the thought of another woman? What if I'm just a weak person? I worry about this sort of thing all the time. However, at the same time, I keep thinking that a) I don't expect him to wait for me, and b) he can't expect me to wait for him. Ugh. I dunno. Or maybe he can. Maybe I'm just such a huge whore.....

..but now, I'm not. Cuz I genuinely have feelings for Jason as well. It's not just about satisfying bodily cravings. I enjoy his company. But...if I am totally honest, I don't share the same intellectual bond with Jason that I do with Trevor. At least, not yet. Trevor and I talk a lot more on MSN, which is more emotionally sustaining at this point, and not physical. Perhaps if I lost the physical with Jason, and was forced to only do emotional, we'd reach that level too. Who knows? I haven't the foggiest.

I am well confused about the whole situation. In all honesty though, only time will tell. When I go home for Christmas, I will figure out for certain where I stand.If I am with Jason, but I feel intense feelings for Trevor, then I know what I have to do. But if I am still with Jason, and I realize I feel less for Trevor, then I again know what I have to do. Hopefully it is as cut and dry as that.

But enough for now. I am tired, and this mental stimulation is draining me.

Cheers.

On Copying and Pasting a LOT of Missed Posts

2008-11-12T13:34:00.000-08:00

I am sooo sorry! I have been updating the Janey Canuck blog more frequently than this one. For those who read this for it's R rated material, you shan't be disappointed after today. I am going to cut and paste a bunch of 'lost' entries. Be prepared to read a lot, darlings...

Wednesday, November 12, 2008
On the Hunt Being On
The hunt is officially on. For what, you ask? A new place to live, in Cambridge. Yes. You've read right, my dears. I'm planning on making the momentous leap into big city life. Some of you may be wondering why. My response can be summed up in one word: convenience. Ever since I made friends with the staff, I've been out in Cambridge nearly every weekend. It was always a bit of a hassle, because I had to mooch a place to spend the night off of my co-workers. This didn't always end up working out too pleasantly, and I had more than my fair share of awkward moments. Anyways, over the past few weeks, I've spend an ever increasing amount of time in the city, not just on weekends. As such, the cost of commuting as started to outweigh itself in simplicity. I've had to catch a few cabs home, at the hefty cost of thirty pounds. If you convert that into Canadian dollars, it's around sixty bucks. For a ride that costs 6 bucks Canadian via the bus. Talk about a gigantic rip off. They hose you for everything you're worth in this country.

But I digress. The point is, while I can afford to keep commuting to my 'life' outside of school, I am putting my foot down, and refusing to do it. That is why, starting just the other day, I am actively searching for a new place to live in Cambridge.

I must admit, however, that my knowledge of the area outside the city centre is lacking immensely. Lucky for me, I've got a lovely boy who can help me pinpoint the location of prospective places. I'll also try to get him to come view a few places with me, should I ever reach that stage in the renting process. I'm picky, so I rarely agree to view a place unless I've been swept away. You've got to have the right feeling for it! It's kind of like dating; if you don't feel the initial spark of interest, there's no sense wasting your time!

I'm hoping to move after Christmas, but you never know. It could very well take longer (though I certainly hope that it doesn't, for a number of reasons). It would just be ridiculously convenient, and frankly a lot for fun, if I were located in Cambridge. The only downside is that, should I live close to the city centre, I will be tempted to shop more than I already am. Bad combination. Very bad, indeed.

I'll just try to limit my shopping addiction, that's all. I'll see what I can do. With Christmas coming up, and so many lovely people to buy presents for, it's a touch hard.

But anyways. Enough of that.

I haven't talked about school lately, so perhaps I should provide a brief update in that avenue.

Things have been going fairly well since half term ended. I really feel I came to a turning point with my year 10s. I won some of their respect, in allowing them to listen to their iPods while doing individual work. The only problem with that is that they try to put them in during group work, or even when I am talking, and I have to crack the whip and get them to put them away. However, I can't let them push me around, so I should really take no issue with having to constantly reprimand them for improper iPod use. Frankly, I could get into a lot of trouble with the school, should they find out I'm breaking the iPod rule. But it really does get the kids to work quietly during individual learning time, so I don't want to give it up. I had the assistant head principal sit in on a lesson with my 10s before the break, and they were absolute angels. Someone once told me that you can always tell whether a class likes you by how they behave when someone else is in the room. If they know its an important thing for you, and they like you, they will be on their best behaviour. If they don't give two shits about you, they will carry on like normal. If that is true, than I have to take their behaviour to mean they do like and respect me...they've just got a weird way of showing it.

My year 9s continue to be my problem class. The last lesson I had them, they would not settle down. When I tried to do a group discussion, they went absolutely ape shit. I had to shut off the lights, raise my voice, and threaten them with after school detentions in order to get them to work as I wanted them to. It's a constant frustration to me, as I don't think I should have to threaten them to get them to work. That said, again, when someone is observing me in lesson, they act like civilized beings...so they must, on some bizarre level, like me a little.

I was off 'sick' yesterday (mental health day...heh heh), and was told this morning that my 9s were the worst behaved children the supply had ever experienced. She told me that if she had to deal with those kids every day, she'd be handing in her notice and quitting. She asked me, with real concern in her eyes, if they were like that every lesson. I kind of smiled at her knowingly, shook my head in the affirmative, and told her I was a very strong woman. She laughed, and agreed wholeheartedly. I can only hope she goes to the department head, and lets her know exactly what type of children I deal with, because I think sometimes she doesn't believe they're that bad. I think she thinks if SHE had them, she could tame them. I think she's wrong. But then again, what do I know?

My 11s are alright. The top set ones, anyways. We've been doing exam preparation, which is INSANELY boring bookwork...there really is no way to jazz it up...and they've been, for the most part, taking it seriously. Hopefully they do well on the exams; that'd make ME look good, as a teacher. Fingers crossed. My bottom set, however, are likely to all bomb it, with the exception of perhaps two girls and one of the boys. They don't take any of the prep work I do seriously, and only do it half assed. In fact, its not even half an effort they give. For a response that requires a good solid 5 paragraph essay response, they write down 5 basic sentences, and then moan the rest of the period about how 'boring' my lessons are. Ugh. They are in for a rude awakening after the exams, that's for damn sure. I hope their parents care. They should.

My 8s, as per usual, are little dolls. They listen to me, do my lessons, and are generally sweethearts. I maintain my position on wishing to teach only year 8s and 7s in the future. They are the perfect age, and I would take on all the 8s and 7s at a school, just to not have to teach any of the other year groups.

But that's just selfish, isn't it? Everyone needs a challenge now and again. Even....me...unfortunately.

Hmm. Well, I have definitely yammered on enough for one evening. I am deathly tired, for some reason, and plan to hit the sheets shortly. I need a day of solid sleep, I think, to rest up my weary head. I think too much. It's a curse, really.

Cheers.

Friday, November 7, 2008
On Saying Some Stuff
Alright, so I am aware that, as per usual, I haven't updated much lately. To be fair, I've had an awful lot going on lately! It was a wild and crazy half term break....well less wild and crazy, really, and more breathtakingly amazing. I needed the break more than I thought, and seriously enjoyed it immensely. If I'm being 100% honest, it was probably one of the best weeks of my life. Edinburgh was, to put it lightly, the most amazing place I've ever been. Everywhere I looked was something ridiculously beautiful. This sheer history of the place awed me. I also loved the atmosphere of the city. It was so vibrant and fun, bubbly and amazing. I loved every second of it, and I would seriously consider moving there some day. It was amazing. I am officially in love with the city of Edinburgh.

Anyways, more than that happened over the half term as well. I'd love to get into it here, but some things should remain personal. If you really want to know, ask me! The only tidbit you'll get is that I'm happy, and I think I'll be happy for awhile now. :)

Well, perhaps when I get bored this weekend I will write more. Right now my heart is just not in it.

Cheers!
Posted by Krista_Carson at 7:52 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, October 22, 2008
On Knowing I am NOT a Crap Teacher
So today I had a good day teaching. I had my lovely year 8s, and my bottom set year 11s. My lessons went well, and the kids don't hate me. My 8s.....I wish all my classes were like my 8s. Teaching them has really made me want to go home and get my Junior/Intermediate qualifications, because I much prefer teacher that age group right now....not so much the 9s, as they are Intermediate...but the Juniors....they're dolls. I can work on my 9s though.

Anyways...I just really wanted to get that out there...that I've realized, after a really really shit day...that I am NOT a shit teacher. I am a very good teacher. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't.

I can't let them get me down, and I'll try not to in the future.

Cheers.
Posted by Krista_Carson at 8:33 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
On Letting Staff See Me Cry
Well, I've given the story away with the title today. I cried at school. Again. The only difference between this time and all the other times is that people walked in today. I also cried more than once, in front of different people. God, I am weepy. So green. So embarrassing. Here's how it went down...

Tuesday I usually dread, because I start the day off with my year 9s. There is a staff briefing every Tuesday and Thursday, where they give us coffee. Usually I inhale a cup of super sugary brew, because I need the extra caffeine to deal with them. I sat through the meeting today, chugging my coffee, and hoping that it wouldn't go as badly as it went last week.

It started off alright. A few of the students weren't there at first, and when the kids came in they quietly got down to work. I was pretty impressed, and even commented on how pleased I was with how they'd entered the room and gotten down to business.

As I was doing the roll call, a group of fairly bad students wandered in. They were already late, so common courtesy would dictate that they SHOULD enter quietly. Instead, they stormed in, making as much noise as humanly possible.
"Sorry Miss," one of the boys said, a stupid cocky grin plastered on his face. "We got held back in form time...had to have a private conversation with our tutor. Man to man..."
"That's fine..." I said, "But if you're going to come in late, at least do so quietly"
"Yah, Jimmy (name changed, for obvious reason)...remember what we were told. Smarten up," the other boy said, sarcastically.
I glared at them until they sat down, then continued on with the lesson.

I was reading 'Lord of the Flies' aloud. I can't let the kids read it themselves, because they'd never do anything. Usually there are minor disruptions while I read, and today was no exception. Usually I roam around while reading, which is a feat in itself to do without tripping and falling, so I cruised around putting out one interruption after another.

The two boys who'd wandered in late though, could not settle down. They kept shouting each other's names out as I read. I'd go stand by one, giving my hard teacher stare between words, only to have the other one do something stupid and distracting. So then I'd have to move over there, and repeat my actions. I guess I should have removed one of them, but it's so hard to think of the right thing to do in the heat of the moment. Regardless, it was obvious to me, and to the entire class, that they were playing with me. Other boys in the class started to pick up on it, and decided they wanted in on the game. Random coughs started throughout the room. I could never figure out who was making what noise, so it was hard to stop it. I'd stop reading, stare at the clock, and wait for their silence, but as soon as I started to read again the minor irritations would begin again.

A different boy, who is always a bit of a firestarter, started to really act up. He put his hand up while I was reading, so I stopped to ask him what his question was.
"Nothing, " he said. "I'm just bored."
I felt myself getting pretty angry, but I chose to ignore his bratty comment, and plowed ahead. The girls in the room were all devotedly following along with the reading, and I didn't want to deprive them of learning, just because the boys were deciding to immature.

The distractions didn't stop though, as the boys started to really push me around. A cough would issue in one corner, followed by a fart noise in another, followed by a name being shouted in another. Finally, having had enough of this nonsense, I finished the chapter.
"Alright. Since you guys aren't going to let me read aloud, you can finish the book independently. I want everyone to turn to chapter 12, and start reading. If I hear a single peep, even one little noise, you're asking me for an after school detention," I said.
The girls all started reading instantly. The boys were hesitant. I could tell most of them didn't want to chance an after school with me.

I started to stroll around the room, to ensure everyone was reading, and instantly heard chatter from the front when I was at the back.

I whipped around, to see who it was, and low and behold, it was young Jimmy. I walked slowly towards him. He saw me the entire time, but gave me a rebellious look.
"Diary please," I demanded when I got to him.
"Why Miss?" he asked.
"You were talking. You heard what I said. Diary please."
"Oh MAN...this is bullshit. Other people were talking, but you ALWAYS pick on me. This is retarded. I hate this class. This is a crap teaching group, and you're even more of a crap teacher. We don't learn anything, and you ALWAYS pick on me and never anyone else. I hate you and I hate this class. Everyone hates it," he ranted. "This is complete bullshit."
I tried to calmly write in his planner that he had a detention with me Thursday, but my hand was shaking, because I was getting a bit upset. The entire time I was writing, he was causing a huge scene, bitching and moaning about what a "crap" teacher I was. I'm not going to lie, it was really really hard for me to not cry right then and there.

I finished writing, and then turned to face the class.
"Anyone else want to join Jimmy?" I asked.
Silence.
"Good."

I started to walk away, and instantly heard Jimmy mumbling under his breath about what a shit teacher I am, and how crappy the lessons are.
I wheeled around to face him, and gave him quite possibly the dirtiest look on the face of the planet. He gave it right back. It was 100% evident that he HATED my GUTS. I'm not sure if you've ever seen a kid look at you that way....but it's really hard to take. It crushed me a little bit, and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it goes back to my being completely naive and stupid. I guess a ridiculous part of me wants to be liked. I know that's not important, and I also know it's impossible ... you can't get everyone to like you, especially not people you're supposed to have authority over. I definitely have to get over that. But I haven't yet. I'm working on it.

I stared him down though, until finally he gave up and opened his book.

Meanwhile, the firestarter boy I told you about earlier fed directly off Jimmy's behaviour, and started talking as loudly as he could to the person behind him.
I strolled over to him, and asked for his diary. Jimmy instantly started bitching again. I couldn't deal with that now though.
"WHAT?!" the other boy screamed.
"Your diary. It should already be out. Get it out now," I said, trying to stay calm.
"I don't have it," he said defiantly.
"Right, well you know the automatic response to not having your diary with you," I said, knowing he would cave.
"FINE!" he said, bending to rummage in his bag.
He pulled the diary out, throwing it on the table.
I opened it, and started writing.
"What are you writing?" he asked.
"That you have an after school with me," I said.
"WHAT?! BULLSHIT. This school is fucking anal. Every FUCKING thing I do..." he said.
"Wow. You're really heaping on the reasons today, aren't you?" I said, as I wrote more.
"Fuck you, and fuck this school. I'm NOT coming. I'm going on holiday anyways, so it's pointless to assign one," he said.
"Well, you'll just serve it after half term," I replied.
"The hell I will," he said.
"Try skipping it, and see how that turns out for you," I said.
"Fuck this, I'm out of this STUPID class. You're an asshole," he yelled at me. He threw his chair down and whipped past me and out the door.
I stared after him, unsure of what to do.
The class started to giggle.
I looked over at Jimmy, and he looked back at me, a smug grin on his face. It was like he was telling me he wasn't the ONLY one who thought I was crap.

"Keep reading," I said meekly.

They all bowed their heads, and read silently for the last 5 minutes. I wandered through the room, aimlessly, going over all the things that had JUST happened. Finally, it was time to dismiss them.

"Jimmy, I need to talk to you a moment," I said.
Everyone filed out, all of them giving me either looks of total disgust and hatred, or sympathy.
Jimmy was staring at the floor.
"Give me your diary," I said.
He started to protest, but I told him it wasn't a bad thing.
I crossed out the after school detention, and wrote in lunchtime detention.
"I shouldn't even do this, but maybe it'll serve as a warning to you. I expect way better from you. And frankly, when you say, in front of the entire class, that I'm a crap teacher....well on a personal level that's not nice. I don't like that. I'm a person too, Jimmy. That hurts."
He glanced up at me for a second, then looked back at the floor.
"I know. I'm sorry. I said it in the heat of the moment, and I shouldn't have. Ask my Mum...I do that a lot. I didn't mean it," he said.
"It doesn't matter if you meant it. You said it, people heard it, and it's rude and disrespectful to me for you to say that. It makes me look bad, and it makes you look bad. You need to control yourself...."
"Yah. Okay. Sorry Miss," he said. He was squirming. It was obvious to me he wanted to leave.
The mean part of me wanted to make him squirm some more, but instead I told him he could go....but that his mother would be hearing from me.
He shot me a worried glance, before hardening, and turning away.
"Things have to change, Jimmy," I shouted after him.

I walked around the room, pushing in chairs, collecting forgotten books. My mind was racing a million miles a minute. I kept replaying in my mind Jimmy calling me a crap teacher. The venom in his voice rebounded in my head. I walked to my desk, and collapsed into my chair. I stared at the computer monitor, my eyes starting to well up with tears. I tried to fight them back, tried to think of anything else. Anything but the fact that I was officially a crap teacher.

Louise walked into my room at that moment.
"Are you alright?" she asked, "How were they?"
"Crap," I said. "Totally awful."
"Aw, what happened?" she asked.
"I....I....." I started to say. I couldn't finish. I hid my face in my hands, and started to cry. I mean, really really cry. None of this watery eyes, emotional shit. Actual hard weeping.
"Oh my god, Krista, no! Don't let them do this to you! Don't cry!" she said. She put her books down on the nearest table, and walked over to me. She put her arms around my shoulders, and pressed her face against mine. It was actually very comforting. I haven't had someone, especially a woman, be so intimate with me in awhile. It was very motherly, and it was kinda nice. I couldn't stop crying though.

She let me cry, rubbing my back, and nuzzling my hair.
"It's alright. You can't take what they say personally. You are NOT a crap teacher. It is not your fault they are a difficult group. You're doing everything you can. And we will work to make this right. It is NOT you. Don't EVER let them tell you it's you. It's not you."
Allison walked in at this point. She saw me crying, and walked over.
"Jesus. The little shits...don't let them get to you. They are not worth it," she said.
I started to suck it up, at this point. I opened my desk to get some tissues, and started to dry my eyes.
I explained to them what had happened. Louise was indignant, and told me to talk to Leslie.
"They have to know they can't get away with bullying you, which is what they are doing," she said.
I agreed with her, and resolved to not only talk to a LOT of mothers, but to talk to Leslie too.

I did talk to Leslie, later in the day. It was between my double period with my 10s, at lunch. She came in, asking if I was alright. I don't know what it was, but the look on her face made me burst into tears again. I started to weep harder than before, as I tried to explain the story to her.

She was livid. She told me she would pull the two main boys out of class that afternoon, and exclude them from my next lesson. Then she gave me some words of wisdom, and some professional advice. I could tell she felt bad that I was crying...I felt bad too. Its horribly embarrassing to cry in front of your boss. I felt like such a rookie. I still feel like the biggest rookie on the face of the planet.

But this class...this class is getting the best of me. The worst thing is, I don't know how to fix it. I was trying, trying really hard...and I was making SOME headway....but obviously not enough.

Anyways, I just felt like shit the rest of the day. I had to try to teach my last period, after balling my eyes out to Leslie, as if nothing was wrong. I'm sure the kids could tell. You can always tell when someone's been crying...and I'd cried TWICE in the day. My eyes were a bit puffy....not very attractive.

It's just such a huge embarrassment to me. I hate being such a sensitive sap. Such an open book. I wish I could learn not to wear my emotions on my sleeve. I wonder when I will grow that hard skin that so many teachers have? Maybe by the end of the year? I can only hope.

It doesn't help that on a personal level, my life is pretty bland right now. I come home, and all I really want is someone to turn to, to talk to...and I'm met with the solitude of my own room. My roomies are nice, but they've got their own lives, and I don't factor in very high...plus the language barrier makes it a bit hard. The thing I want more than anything right now is to just rest my head on someone. A hug'd be nice. Just a hug, where I could take a deep breath, close my eyes, and forget about how crap my job can be sometimes. Just melt into nothing. And I don't just mean a dude here. It could be my Mama, or my sister, or my best girl pals. But a fellow'd be nice too.....cuz they've got nicer arms, and no boobies to get in the way of a nice lay-down. Oh how I'd fancy a snuggle. Ha ha ha!

God, I want to go home. God, I want half term to come....I need a break from my life, and Scotland will provide just that.

I need a drink.

I need a lot of things.

I need a hug most of all.

Cheers.
Posted by Krista_Carson at 7:08 PM 0 comments

Monday, October 20, 2008
On Laughing at Myself
Oh dear, dear me. Ha ha ha! Do you ever get in those emo moods, where all you want to do is punch something really soft and malleable, just to feel better? I think I was definitely in one of those moods the ENTIRE weekend. I was a snarly, nasty bitch....to everyone and their mother. One of my students told me today she saw me walking down the street in St. Ives (on my way home from my horrendous night in Cambridge), and she said I looked like I had just gouged someone's eyes out...in other words, I looked very very angry. Go figure. I was. As such, I probably should have stayed AWAY from this blog...and quite possibly Facebook AND MSN...because after re-reading what I wrote....well...holy shit....anger abounds. Anger and a little bit of self pity.

Alright, heaps of self pity.

Whatever. I'd like to think that happens to the best of us. Or at least the best WOMEN out there. We're emotional weirdos, and you know it. Hormones fluctuating on a monthly basis, and all that. That is 110% my excuse. Also, booze and tiredness added to the general shittiness of my mood. Yikes. Watch the eff out.

Anyways, I am totally out of my funk today, and back in typical Krista Carson form. Ready to talk on the world, one day at a time. I'm still missing a TON of people back home...one or two more than others....and I'm still regretting SLIGHTLY my decision to come here. Again, the career reasons are all right....but on a personal level the timing couldn't have been more shit. Although, I do blame myself for that as well. I took my sweet ass time this summer, realising right from wrong. Wasted a loooooot of time. Stupid, stupid. Ah well. I figure next summer I can make up for past mistakes, and take what I should have taken ages ago.....And all that. I've likely said too much, but I doubt highly that the person in question reads this rubbish...and if they do, I'm not very ashamed to admit the truth....Though I am embarrassed JUST enough to not actually come out and say what I mean. Ha ha. Again, typical Krista Carson form.

If that person DOES read this...well shit. You should have a pretty clear idea of my intentions now, so consider yourself warned. I'm used to getting what I want, so....yah....it's basically game over for you.

Ha ha. Unless, of course, I've misread the situation AGAIN....which wouldn't be very surprising, considering I ALWAYS do. Ha ha ha ha! Ah well. One day I will get it right.

But I digress.

I leave for Scotland in a few short days. I am very very excited about this trip. I'm going with a few other teachers that came over with Dream, the stupid company that recruited me. At least two of the guys, if all goes as planned. Should be interesting. At least I know they'll protect me from Scottish weirdos...should those exist. Though I'm not sure who will protect me from these blokes, should that situation arise. Ha ha. Naw, it won't. Though...I AM pretty irresistible. My girlish good looks, and outrageous personality win over even the most skeptical of men....even if just for awhile. Ha ha ha. Jokes, jokes. I'm not full of myself, honest.

But I do intend to be a touch flirty with any Scottish honey's I may run into during my travels. The plan is to hit a lot of pubs at night...and if I go dressed to impress, with my face and bod all sexified, speaking in my.....irresistible Canadian accent (yah right!)....well I'll be the hit of the century. Mmmmmm. Gerard Butler, watch out. It's time for the return of the mack.

Jokes, jokes.

But seriously, amped for the trip.

I'm also looking forward to Friday night. A girl from work, Nima, wants to take me out on the town with her. Girls night out. I plan to look super duper sexy, and just work the ego all night. I'll be sultry and coy all night. See how many hearts I can break in an evening, perhaps. I'm good at that. I can put up an amazing front, ha ha ha. It's all in the eyes. Even though I'm probably the nicest, sweetest, un-sex kitten girl on the face of the planet. Hence why I always get s-crewed (and NOT literally, thank you. Figuratively. Remember...nice Canadian girl here).

Well...I mostly just wanted to write to let you all know that I'm fine and dandy. Back to being my confident and strong self. Ain't nobody going to keep me down. I'm a damn fine lady, and fuck you if you don't know it!!

Cheers, my darlings.
Posted by Krista_Carson at 7:34 PM 0 comments

Sunday, October 19, 2008
On Hating My Life
Well, when I last posted, on Tuesday, I was on my way to having a pretty shit week. Turns out that I wasn't even close to thinking how shit it could get. Wednesday was alright, as it was the trip to the Think Tank. Thursday was pretty tough, and Friday was a shit storm. All of my classes were like hyperactive, yet uninterested twats. Nothing was going the way I wanted it to go, and the students were pushing me around like never before. After last period, I sat at my desk and just wallowed in how awful the day had went. I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry. I did. Then people started to wander in (which never happens), so I had to suck it up and try to appear alright. I doubt that worked well, since I've never been good at hiding my feelings. Like a goddamn open book. I wish I wasn't, because there's nothing I hate more than people's pity. I got a lot of that Friday...and it makes me want to be sick. Don't feel sorry for me. Everything that goes wrong in my life is my own fault. I make my own choices, and the fact of the matter is most of those choices are the wrong ones. I am notorious for being a stupid, stupid, naive girl. Very naive. I believe everything people tell me...and then wonder why I'm always getting hurt. People lie. I should know that by now....

Sometimes I really wish I'd never made the decision to come here. I get that it will be good for my career...that I did it for that reason alone. But there are so many personal reasons why I shouldn't have come. I'm a strong person, but only up to a certain degree. I don't know how much longer I can put up this front. I'm not happy here, and I haven't been in awhile. I thought maybe I was starting to enjoy it...but no...I was kidding myself. When it comes right down to it, when something goes wrong, and I need someone to talk to, I've got no one. I miss my family, and I miss my friends, and I miss....a lot. And when I think about what I COULD have had, if I had stayed...well it's frustrating. I'm very tempted to book a last minute flight home for half term....but I think that'd just make life a lot harder...cuz I wouldn't want to come back. I'd spend time with the people I miss, and realize that this isn't worth it. As it stands, I think my best bet is to throw myself into this last week, go to Scotland, and try to just forget how much I miss home. I dunno......I'm so fucking mad right now. Mostly at myself though.... but that will pass.

Anyways, I was just listenin to a song by The Script, and was like "damn, this song describes me to a T".....so I'll leave you with that, while I go sulk some more.

Cheers.

Don’t keep yourself away
Don’t live your life that way
Of course he’s gonna say anything you want
Then leave quicker than he came now you got yourself to blame

Don’t put yourself back in the fire again
It’s the same damn things you’re so quick to believe
You do it over and over again
And it’s the same mistakes that I’m watching you make
You do it over and over again

So before they bring you down
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything

Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down

Oh, please don’t be so naive
Don’t wait ‘till your heart bleeds
Love wasn’t built for speed, listen to me girl
He keeps fuckin’ with your head, tryin to get you into bed
And in the morning you’ll just hate yourself

It’s the same damn things you’re so quick to believe
You do it over and over again
And it’s the same mistakes that I’m watching you make
You do it over and over again

So before they bring you down
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything

Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down

And you give until there’s nothing to give
Until there’s nothing to give
Until there’s nothing to give

Before they bring you down
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for everything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything

Before they break you down, down, down
Cause girl they’ll bring you down, down, down
Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down
Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down

On Not Posting In Awhile

2008-10-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

Geez! It's been awhile since I've posted, eh? One would assume, with the lack of posting that I've been doing, that I'm a busy little beaver (like the Canadian connotation there? I do)! Well, you'd be dead on! I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off for the past little while. Mostly, I've been attending meeting after meeting after meeting, much to my discomfort (and physical pain, in some instances). In case you were wondering, the physical pain mostly came from wearing heels for a twelve hour day...but you could also factor in uncomfortable seating at uncomfortable meetings as well.

Anyways, I could bore you by going into detail about what I've been up to the past week and a bit, but I will spare you. I will give you a brief update, and then continue with today's issues (and yes, there are issues to discuss...it's been a rough week, and it's only Tuesday).

So....let me think back. Last week was the Open Evening. Basically, the school competes with a bunch of other secondary schools in the county/area, to get parents to send their children there. Competition is apparently pretty stiff, so they really try hard to impress. Interested parents of children currently in year 6 come out for the evening, get schmoozed by the Head Teacher, wander the building with preppy student guides, and watch entertaining presentations put on by the staff. Myself, I got tricked into helping run a giant game of scrabble. It was....interesting, to say the least. Just building the damn thing proved to be a challenge and a half. The string we were given to "map it out" was bloody awful, and the tape in which to stick it down was worse. It just would not stay. Rachel and I kept having to slap it down, as hard as we could, and it almost always bounded back. Eventually, we went to the Science department to get more string, and were magically given a much BETTER, and more co-operative, bundle of string. We ripped out the shit we had laying, and re-did the board with our new magically co-operative string. Then we went about setting out the board pieces, and arranging the letter tiles into piles of seven.

After we had the board set up, we had some time to kill. I wandered into the Orwell Office, and found a bunch of women cutting and pasting book photos and blurbs onto coloured paper. A new display was being constructed, and they asked for my help. I glady did so. I am rather glad I did, because it turned out to be quite funny! Ann, the second head of English, proved herself to be a very funny lady! She had us rolling on the floor laughing. Literally. Putting up the display proved to be a continuation of the good time. Before we knew it, however, it was time to get down to business.

Showtime (and I aptly call it that) approached, and I settled into "Game show host" mood. As children and their parents entered the room, I bombarded them with words of encouragement, trying to entice them into playing the game. A few refused, shyly hiding behind their parents, but most were quite eager to play. In fact, I quickly found that the parents were highly competitive, wanting their kids to get the best score etc. It was a bit daunting, to be honest! I felt bad for a few of the kids, whose parents really pushed them to find "better" words, or to exploit the letters they had. A bit weird to see, that's for sure.

No major problems arose. I met a few of my students parents, as they came in with their younger siblings. It was nice to put faces to names. I had a feeling some of them were rather shocked at my appearance though; I'm not sure if it's my age, or my nose ring, or what, but a few seemed a bit surprised to realize I was "the Miss Carson". "The" indeed. Legendary.

Anyways, the night went off alright. We didn't leave the building until around 9 though, which was a tad horrifying, considering I am there at ten to 8 every day. Ugh. Long long day. Rachel and I ended up joining the Geography boys (who are an hilarious and jovial bunch) for a pint in Fenstanton before going to bed. I slept well that night.

Not a whole lot worth writing about happened between then and now. Aside from the weekend, which started off slow (I went to bed early Friday night), and then ended up being probably the best weekend I've had here so far! I just had a wicked fun time, going out, seeing people, having some drinks, and sharing more than a few laughs. J ended up coming back to mine with me, and we had a pretty fun time together. In the morning, we went out for breakfast, and I waited with him for his bus to come. He was quite cute, and awkwardly affectionate (not awkward in a bad way, but awkward as in I could TELL he wanted to be MORE affectionate with me, but he was afraid of scaring me off - he would go to take my hand, then kind of hesitate and pull his hand back etc - it was quite cute). We also made plans to head to Paris together after half term. We're going to get together NEXT Wednesday, at his place after school, to plan it all out for a weekend in November. He said he'd even make me dinner, that night! How adorable is THAT?!

Coming off that weekend, I was really hoping to have a good week. In fact, I kept thinking this week was going to be GREAT, because I have a nice break in the middle (a trip to Birmingham with the Science department on Wednesday). However, it's now only Tuesday, and I already want to shoot myself in the head.

You see, last week the year 9 reports went home. As you should be aware, my year 9 class is a total terror. They constantly push me, and make me question my desire, if not my ABILITY, to teach. In an effort to "shock" them into realizing I mean business, I wasn't exactly nice when I assessed them. In fact, I was tough as nails. I gave a lot of people really crap marks. In my defence, they totally deserved them. Their attitude towards learning (ATL) was total rubbish, and they're kidding themselves if they think otherwise. So I was brutally honest in my reporting, and I think the marks were indeed "shocking" to a number of students.

Yesterday, Leslie came to me at the end of the day, to let me know that three of my year 9 girls had come to see her about the grades I'd given then. I instantly knew exactly who the girls were. When I listed the names to Leslie, she nodded.
"I'm not going to apologize for the grades," I said. "They deserved them."
"I'm not asking you to apologize. I have no doubts they deserved them. I just wanted you to be aware that there is some discontent out there," she said. She smiled at me constantly, so I could tell she was trying not to seem threatening. It was clear she didn't want to scare me, or make me feel that I had been at fault.
We had a rather frank talk about what the problem was. She told me these girls had requested a class change. My heart sunk.
"Here we go," I thought, "My teaching ability is suddenly thrown into question because three stuck up girls are pissed I called them on their own laziness and stupidity".
However, Leslie tried to explain to me that my teaching wasn't being questioned, and that she understood I had a tough "group of characters".
We decided to allow someone to come observe the class in action, this Thursday, to try and figure out strategies. We also are going to work on picking ONE person, one truly disruptive person, to move out of the class. I can think of a few I wouldn't mind giving the ol' heave ho - but that'd be a cheap solution. One I can deal with. I have an idea of who I want switched out, but that too might be TOO easy. We'll leave it up to the moderator.
With that in the process of being resolved, I rested easy Monday night.

Today, I had my year 9s first period. As the students started their slow shuffle into the room, there were murmurs of discontent. This was the first period that I'd had with them, since the reports went home.
"Miss, why did I get a lever 3?" I heard.
Not looking up to acknowledge the speaker, I said, "If you want to discuss grades with me, see me after class."
"Miss, why did I get a level TWO?!" I heard a high pitched, and extremely whiny girl ask.
I turned, looked over her head at the clock, and said, "Come see me after class, to discuss your mark."
She huffed at me, and refused to move.
"No. I don't deserve this mark. My mum is going to go bananas when she sees this..." she started.
"Sit down. This is not the appropriate place to discuss this," I said calmly to her.
She scowled at me, then marked to her seat. The entire way there she was bitching and complain about how she'd been given an "unfair" mark.
I rolled my eyes.
Instantly, comments started being hurled around the room.
"Yah, well I got a 3."
"HE got a 3?!? THATS NOT FAIR!"
"Oh yah, well I got a two as well. I've NEVER got a two before...."
I could feel myself losing them, so I shouted at them to do the Word Challenge on the board, and to stop talking about grades.
"If you want to talk about grades, do so individually after class with me," I said.
I was met with grumbles. The hatred for me was very evident, throughout the entire classroom.
Bubbles of discontent quickly surfaced again, and before I could stop it, I was being bombarded with comments about how "unfair" I was, and how "we haven't done anything to warrant these marks".
The worst, however, was when one of the girls smugly shouted, "Yah, well I'M SWITCHING ENGLISH CLASSES!"
The rest of the class turned to look at her. She smiled, smug at having won the entire class over for the moment.
Eruptions of agreement spilled forth.
Devastated at the mob mentality that was being directed at me, I felt myself wilt a little. I must admit, I started to doubt my abilities to teach very much. With 28 eyes turned to me, watching for my next move, I knew that now was not the time to collapse.
Instead, I threw my shoulders back and calmly said, "No one will be switching classes. You can't run away from your problems that easily. If you got a bad mark, it's the mark you deserved to get. I don't give good or bad marks. You earn them."
This shut them up for a moment, as they pondered the meaning of what I'd said.
A few rumbles started up at the back, but with a cold stare, I quickly quieted those.
I prompted them back to the Word Challenge, and tried to carry on with the lesson.

We headed to the PC lab for the majority of the class, and kids seemed to be working fairly well.
There was still some animosity amongst some of the girls, but I tried to brush it off with a firm but fair touch. I felt the end of the period went relatively well, and I tried very hard not to let their stinging criticism of my teaching at the start of the lesson get to me. However, at the end, I was given a rather sound slap on the face, by one of the quieter girls in my class.

All the other students had left the room in a noisy mass of swirling chaos. This last girl was slowly and deliberately putting her books into her bag. As she walked past me on her way to the door, she half turned and said, "I'm going to get out of this class."
"Excuse me? Why?" I asked, genuinely shocked.
"Because I can't work with the people in this class. We never get anything done," she said coldly.
"Yes we do," I said. "And besides, if anyone moves, it won't be you...."
"We'll see about that," she said, haughtily, as she strolled out the door.

I stared looking after her for a good thirty seconds. Maybe it was a culmination of everyone else's badgering, or maybe it was something else...whatever it was, her comments to me, seemingly out of the blue (I'd given her a decent mark), struck me harder than anyone elses.

I could understand the "bad" ones wanting out. Students like that will never take responsibility for their actions. They will always blame someone else for their shortcomings. The easiest person to blame right now is me, and so they are. I can deal wit that. I can brush that off. But to have one of the "good" ones slam me....well that was something else entirely. It really made me question my own abilities. Can I handle this class? Is it THAT bad?! Some days I think it is, and others I don't. I do take responsibility for some of the things that happen (or fail to happen) in my class...but I refuse to take responsibility for everything. If you get a bad mix of kids, it's really hard to get them to perform the way you want them to. At least, it is when you are as green a teacher as me. I will always admit to my shortcomings, and my "newbness" is a very large one. I often have no idea what I am doing, and find that usually my instincts are right. However, with this class, I feel like it's hit and miss. They don't trust me. They don't respect me. They plain don't like me. I cannot, no matter how hard I try, get them to be the class I KNOW they can be. It's very frustrating.

I can only hope that the monitoring I get on Thursday will help me figure out what to do. I'd hate to think that I'm failing at teaching....but right now, it sometimes feels that way (at least with this ONE class).

That said, it IS only one of my six classes. I don't think I am doing bad with my other classes at all. It is just my 9s that are totally out of control, and I have no idea how to rein them in. But I'm willing and able to learn.

But anyways...I really don't want to bitch and moan all the time in here. That was never my intention.

Tomorrow I am going with the year 9s (the entire year) to Birmingham, to what is called the "Think Tank". It's some sort of science museum, or something, if I understand all the e-mails right. I am mighty excited to be able to visit a new part of England "on the company dime".

More to come on that later though. Counting down the days till the weekend!! (Which should, if all predictions come true, be even better than the last). The staff Curry Club (which is really just an excuse to eat and drink together) has their first meeting of the year on Friday. J's already asked me to come stay at his after the Curry Club, so a slumber party is already in effect. Saturday night one of the Geo boys, Tom, has his birthday party in Fenstanton, which is only about 5 mins outside St. Ives. I know J is going, and I'm 100% certain he will be coming back and crashing at mine. It's only logical. :) It's going to be RIGHT FUN!

Cheers!

On Confusing Myself More Than Anything

2008-10-02T13:26:00.001-07:00

So in my "PG" blog I wrote the following today:

I was "this" close to spilling a major can of beans in here tonight. However, I wised up, and realized it's best for me to take the high road, and let people move on with their lives. I've been grasping at straws for awhile now (or at least, it sometimes feels that way), and I've started to think that maybe it's about time I stopped. It won't be easy, if I decide to do it, but I think maybe it's the right thing to do. Then again, I don't know. I'm a bit conflicted about the whole thing. You know how sometimes people say you just "know" about certain things? How some things happen easily for a reason? It all falls into place? Part of me wants to just trust that feeling, and keep doing what I was doing. Another part of me thinks it's a bit futile, and insanely naive, and it's expecting a LOT. Not just from myself, but from other people too. Then again, I know what I'm willing to do...and it doesn't bother me. I can't really know what other people are thinking though...and there lies the rub. Maybe if I wasn't such a pussy, I could be more vocal about this. But again, I've never been one to verbalize when I need help. I'm a stubborn old soul, who refuses to let people see the weaker side of me. I've got a persona to uphold, after all! (Actually, who am I kidding? Everyone knows me as the soft, sweet, big mouthed girl from Tillsonburg...no bad ass persona here). Do you fight the feeling, or do you let yourself be caught up in it? I don't think there's an answer for that question. It's like asking what came first; the chicken or the egg. Or whatever else people say. Bah. THIS IS SO HARD! I know what I want, and I know what it takes to get it, but it takes a lot; A lot of different things, from different avenues of my being. Nothing I can't afford though...now, then, before, whenever. I know I'm talking in circles here, and being ridiculously vague. Obviously I'm doing that for a reason. I don't really want people to (mis)interpret my meaning. Or at least, certain people. Or persons. Or person. Whatever. Decipher what you will from that.

It doesn't really matter what I decide here, or anywhere else. I can say all I want that I'll try to quit this thing, but it won't happen. It's like that Rihanna song....I'd have to check into rehab for it, and it just wouldn't work. I'm irrevocably hooked, no matter how hard I try to disengage myself.

Oh, and case you were starting to get worried. It's not drugs. Unless you count alcohol, in which case, yes, it's drugs. (I'm joking).

-------

In this blog, I can run through the hidden meaning in the posting. I was trying to be evasive, because I wanted to vent, but I didn't want everyone to know what I was talking about. Obviously I could have just vented here, without venting even a little in the PG blog...however, I know a lot of people read the other blog, and I think they'd like to see a more personal post from me; something that wasn't just about teaching. So I posted it.

But here, I can be real. Obviously I'm talking about my feelings for Trevor. My sister messaged me today, and made me feel really shitty about what I'm doing to myself over Trevor. She basically pointed out that I was being completely naieve about the whole situation.
"You have to remember he's four years younger than you. He might not want what you want," she wrote.
I didn't want to believe her a the time, but as I thought more about it, it started ot kind of become true. Obviously when I go back home, my plan at the moment is to fight tooth and nail to get him. To make him mine, to be with him. I want to be with him so badly, it's ridiculous. I think about him on a daily basis. He's the last person I talk to before I go to bed, most nights. I have surprisingly strong feelings for him. I say surprising, because I haven't seen him in over a month now, and I still feel as strongly as I did the last day I spent with him. Talking to him, daily, only makes me feel more sure about my feelings. He just constantly reinforces how amazing he is, every time I talk to him. He's something else...I dunno. I can't stop thinking about how I felt when I first saw him, or when I first kissed him, or when we ... god, sorry, I hate to be an awkward asshole here ... had sex. It was all just so GOOD. There was passion, and tenderness, and everything you'd want. I dunno. Frig. It was all so good. And it all happened so fast...but it felt really natural, and right. More than anything I've experienced before.

Christine told me she thinks he wants to be with me when I return. Sheena tells me he probably won't. I'm telling myself I want it, and if I want it, I seem to think I will get it. I don't know who or what to really believe. I want SO badly for my feelings to be right, for once. I want so badly to give in, and trust my gut on this one. But I also am now afraid I'm wasting my time, my life, my love. I just don't know what to do.

In all honesty, I'm not worried about him being with other girls when I'm gone. I know I will be with other GUYS in this interlude. I'm not going to become a NUN while wait until I return home. Hell, I've already for J waiting in the wings, and he is MORE than ready to sweep me off my feet, for the time being. And I'm more than willing to let him. He's a very sweet guy. As such, I'm sure Trevor will find his "J". His girl to distract him. I just hope he doesn't find his "right girl". What I hope will be me. And maybe that's where I am being naieve. I don't even know how Trevor feels about me. I don't seem to care. I have this insane confidence about the whole situation....and perhaps that's stupid. Maybe he's not the nice guy I think he is. Maybe he is very good at playing me. Who knows. I don't think that's the case, though.

And, like I said in my PG blog, no matter how hard I try to convince myself into quitting him, reducing my conversations with him, it won't happen. I can't do it. I can't not talk to him. I look forward to it, nightly. It's hard enough for me to go one night, and purposely NOT talk to him (which I do, often, to try to show myself I'm not as hopelessly in love with him as I think I am).

But anyways, I'm rambled on long enough. I should either do some work or go to bed.

Cheers.

On the Worst Day EVER

2008-10-02T13:25:00.001-07:00

The following was originally written October 1st:

So today was quite possibly the worst day of my entire life. I don't feel like rehashing the details right now, because it will just make me upset, but I will anyways. Long story short, I ended up being very very stern with my lower ability year 11s today, for constantly "taking the mick out of me". In other words, they've been pushing my buttons for five weeks now, and I've had enough. I've been trying SO hard with this group, and getting mediocre results back. I even changed the seating plan of my room, which affects EVERY OTHER class I have, in order to better accommodate these kids. I have a large central table, that I have the 16 students sit around. I then work with them on THEIR level, talking them through tasks, and getting them to do it as a group. If I left them to do the tasks individually, only a few of the slightly higher ability ones would complete it. The others would need constant supervision. This way, I can supervise them all, and get the work done. Well....today, I had a group of girls refuse to join the table. They wanted to work on their own. I said that was fine, as long as they stayed on top of the work, and weren't off task.

Well, I quickly noticed that they were not talking about the poetry I had assigned. Far from it. I called them on their behaviour, only to meet rolled eyes and sighs. I told them they should join the main table again, to stay on task, but they refused. Not wanting to ruin the learning the others were doing, I set back to the task at hand.

Again, their talking caught my attention, and again I chastised them. This time they started to argue back, saying that they were trying to listen to me, but the talking of some boys at my table was preventing them from hearing. They said I was being unfair, picking on them for talking, when people at my table were talking too. I told them I wasn't being unfair, and if they wanted to hear what I was saying, they should join the table.

They then launched into a tirade about how I was "alienating" them from the lesson, by not including them. I calmly stated back that they had CHOSEN to sit separately from the majority of the class, and that I had ENTRUSTED them to stay on task as a result.

"Maybe it's best if you move over here," I said.
"NO!" they shouted back at me. "We're fine here, just make everyone else stop talking, not just us."
The guys at the main table started to argue back at this point, and soon it was a shouting match between the group at the main table, and these girls off to the side. I tried to interject, but to no avail. They either couldn't hear me over their own shouting, or they chose not to. I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the TA. She looked helplessly at me.

Then I stood up.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I shouted.
"I've had ENOUGH of this! I am NOT going to let this class get out of control ANYMORE! This is absolutely CHAOTIC! There is NO reason for this! I am so sick of you guys constantly talking, arguing, fighting, and NOT DOING THE WORK. I'm TRYING to help you do this! I am TRYING to make sure that you all have a solid grasp over this content! You CANNOT hope to get a passing mark on the coursework, if you constantly talk over me, and shout at each other!"
One of the girls opened her mouth, to say something back at me. Her eyes flashed angrily at me.
"NO! Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you say ANYTHING right now. I'm talking, and I'm sick of you all trying to talk over me. This is MY classroom, not yours."
One of the boys at my table snickered. This caused the three girls to the side to snicker as well.
I stared at them, steely eyed.
"I fail to see what is so funny. This is your future. If you want to sabatoge it, that's pretty damn pathetic," I said, the anger dripping heavily from my voice.

The boys at my table stared at me, their mouths hanging open. They'd never seen me angry before. I think they thought I was a bit of a pushover. Part of the problem, I suppose.

The girls, however, were not impressed. They saw my anger as a call to arms. They started to shout back, saying I was "unfairly" picking on them, and that I was alienating them from learning by allowing others to talk, but not them. Again they tried to say that I forced them away from the main group. I rolled my eyes at them, ready to defend myself, but deciding against it.
"I'm not going to argue with you. I don't have to," I said.

At this point, the TA piped in, saying that I had, in fact, invited them repeatedly to join us, but that they'd refused. She said I couldn't drag them to the table. She was right. I couldn't...though next lesson I will.

Again, I had to strongly reiterate the fact that THEY had chosen to exclude THEMSELVES, and that I couldn't be expected to MAKE them want to learn. I took all the blame they were placing on me, and put it squarely on their shoulders, where it rightfully belonged. My voice remained calm and cold, collected to a T. Inside, I was shaking though. Shaking with anger and pent up resentment, not just at the girls in particular,but at everyone in the class. Everyone who was constantly pushing my buttons, seeing how far they could go.

At this point one of the girls, the most vocal one, stood up.
"I WON'T work in here with YOU," she spat at me.
I stared at her, not saying a word. I don't know how I looked, but I felt utterly and totally bad ass; I hope my face projected my own apathy back at her. She stormed out, saying she was going to her House Office.

The TA looked at me, and I sat, unmoving. Every head in the classroom was turned to me, expectantly. I simply sat there, staring at the remaining two girls, daring them to get up and do the same.
"Do you want me to go after her?" she asked.
"Yes please," I said, calmly.
"You can't use this as an excuse to get out of a lesson..." the TA mumbled under her breath as she walked out of the room.
No one watched her go. Everyone remained fixated on me.
I picked up the poem we were working on, and continued on with it. I've never heard my voice sound so hollow and cold before. It was eerie even to me.
The students were quiet, not saying a word. I asked a question. Repeated it. Finally one of the girls at the main table answered, and some sort of normalcy returned.
When the TA returned, she shrugged at me, and went over to talk to the remaining two girls off to the side. I plowed on with my poem.
I didn't notice until the end of class that one of the girls had started to cry, while talking to the TA. When everyone had cleared the room, I approached her, and asked her what had happened.
"I think they weren't used to you pushing back. I think it shocked them. You put them in their place, and ruined their argument, and the only thing they had left to do was cry," she said.
"I don't think I did anything wrong..." I said, rather sheepishly.
"Oh no, you didn't," she said. "In fact, I don't know HOW you managed to stay so calm and collected. I mean, you were angry, that was obvious, but... it wasn't out of control. It was poised..."
"I don't know what to do to make these kids do the work..." I said.
"Honestly, you're doing more than I've seen anyone else do with them. I think the seating arrangement is ingenious. It works. These kids need someone on them, all the time."
She suggested that I re-arrange the boys in the class, to break up their ability to talk. I agreed.
Tomorrow I have the class again, and I'm going to try out the new arrangement. We'll see if it helps. I'm also going to demand that everyone sit at the main tables with me and the TA. We're going to get through this together, or not at all.

Still, once the TA left the room, I felt everything from the period rush back at me. The raw emotion of the girls, the awkwardness from the rest of the class, my own frustration and anger, everything. I sat in my desk, put my head in my hands, and cried for a good 5 minutes. I am so glad no one walked in. I had my door wide open, and it was entirely possible. If anyone had seen me looking like that, I don't know what I would have done. Likely they would have asked what was wrong, and I would have then broken down into a sobbing, sniffling mess. I don't want anyone in the department to see me cry....I am already afraid that they think I'm "green". Crying would only add to the pile of things that are potentially wrong with me.

I wiped my face dry with my scarf, and spent the rest of my free period trying to compose myself enough for the staff meeting that followed after school. It wasn't easy, but I think I managed it.

Regardless, I am still left feeling like shit. I can't concentrate enough tonight to plan, or do anything productive. Luckily for me, Heroes is on in twenty minutes, and I can watch that, veg out, and then go to bed.

My fingers are crossed that tomorrow brings a better day. If it's another bad one, like the last few........well.....lord help me....

On Apathetic Students

2008-09-30T12:47:00.001-07:00

Well, I can officially say that the students have eaten my soul. Presently, I think they are digesting it, and are soon to pass it through their intestinal tract. Yes. I am going to be crapped out by my students, in due course.

That's how I feel, anyways; like absolute crap. I honestly have never, in my rather short teaching career (and this is factoring in all my practicum junk, and volunteer work I've done), experienced MULTIPLE classes of lazy, unimaginative, uninventive, uncaring students. I'm really doubting that this is JUST a coincidence either. I can't possibly have the only four classes of apathetic students. From what I've heard from other teachers, its a British phenomenon. It is appalling. I think I've explained before, briefly, about "coursework" over here. In case I haven't, I will give you a briefing; students are graded (in Years 10 and 11) based solely on coursework that they submit to an examination board, as well as a few written exams (the GCSEs). Teachers can assign the coursework, and mark drafts of it, but ultimately the final grades are not in their hands. I guess they think that students will be marked on more of a national scale if it's done by an "arbitrary" board of people, instead of "biased" teachers. There is, perhaps, SOME validity in this. However, I still remain skeptical. Anyways, Key Stage 4 (KS4) students are WELL aware of the fact that only the coursework and the exams matter. As such, any homework you assign in class is deemed as "useless", since it's not marked for anything that "matters". This is highly annoying, because I don't assign things unless they matter. Everything serves a greater purpose! I only assign work as a way to BUILD skills that they will need for the coursework or exam. When I try to explain this to the students, they shrug their shoulders, and tell me they'd rather take their chances, and not complete the homework. Of all the assignments I've given, only a select few have completed it all. These students are wonderful; I know they UNDERSTAND that it only aids them in the end. I wish them nothing but success, because they're well rounded, intelligent individuals. The majority of their classmates, however, are rude, ignorant wankers. It frustrates me to no end, that no matter HOW hard I try, they simply do not care.

While I take their indifference personally, I also think they're doing a HUGE disservice to THEMSELVES. I could honestly care less about their lack of respect for ME...it's the lack of respect that they are showing themselves and each other that REALLY gets to me. It's as if their greatest ambition in life is to get through doing the bare minimum; as if they aspire to go nowhere. Their lack of ambition is so frustrating. If I have ever spoken badly about children in Ontario, and their lack of commitment to education, I take it all back. Ontario has it right, in so many ways. Our children aren't nearly has apathetic as British children. I don't know if it's a cultural thing, or what. Frankly, I am very very surprised that more British people my age and older aren't complete assholes. The way their children act, you'd think they'd have learnt it from SOMEONE. Is laziness going to be the next big problem over here? With the current credit crunch, and layoffs, I wouldn't be surprised. At a time when people SHOULD be taking their education seriously, in order to avoid the financial pitfalls that seem apparent, it's even more heartbreaking to see the stance these children take to their education.

I've always said I've believed in lifelong learning. I fail to see how these students will ever catch the lifelong learning "bug". They can't even be bothered to learn NOW, let along on their own in the future.

It's literally crushing my desire to teach. I know. How bad is that?! Back home I had such passion for what I did. I LOVED teaching....here, I find that no matter HOW I try to switch up my lessons, they fall across closed minds. Nothing works. At least, not with my KS4 set. They stare at me with scorn in their eyes, and chatter away as if I wasn't even there. No matter how I try to pull them into the lessons, they constantly ignore me, or disrespect me. At the end of ever lesson with them, I feel drained of all my energy. They make me feel about as big as a flea, and just as effective. It's very depressing. I don't think there's been a day this week that I haven't had to fight back tears, after dealing with my 9s, 10s, and 11s. It takes everything in me to suck it up, and try again with the next class. I do it, but it's very very hard.

That said, my year 8s are everything I could have ever asked for. They get excited with my lessons, they produce excellent results, they partake in discussion.....I can only HOPE and PRAY that when they go into Year 9 they don't instantly change into the unmotivated 9s, 10s, and 11s that I have now. That would be enough to make me cry.

It helps that weekends I can unwind, and get drunk. I know that sounds really really bad, but honestly if I didn't have that vice, that break, that release, I would go insane. I'm not even ashamed to admit that every weekend I feel a VERY strong desire to get lost in the bubbly, happy feeling that accompanies booze. Don't get me wrong though. I don't drink to the point of stupidity. I just drink until everything is funny. Until I can forget how miserable my teaching life can be. I hope it gets better, because honestly, it's starting to really break me down. Maybe I need another release. Who the hell knows. Half term is coming up, that may help. A week to just unwind, in Scotland (or so goes the plan). A hug would also help. I think I've gone pretty much a full month, plus some, without any solid human contact. We could all use some affection, now and again! Just makes you feel nice!

What I wouldn't give to pick up my Gaber-baber (my kitty, Gabriel), and bury my nose in the soft fuzziness on the top of his head. Even just THAT would make me feel a million times better. Amazing how the littlest things can bring you comfort...

But anyways...I didn't really intend for this to be a bitch-fest, though that's clearly what it has become. I'm not absolutely miserable here. Please don't misinterpret what I'm saying. There are many moments, even during teaching (though mostly with my year 8s), that I truly consider myself lucky. Walking to the bank this afternoon, I was struck with the most profound sense of happiness, it it was solely because I realised I was a) in bloody England and b) I feel at home. So....things aren't all bad. I finally feel comfortable in England. I'm not as horribly home sick as I initially was (though I do miss a lot of people...some in particular more than I thought that I would....there are some I think about daily, which surprises me a LOT). Time is also flying by, which is nice...and also scary.

I should get back to work though, I've spent far too much time on this tonight.

Cheers.

On The Monday Blahs

2008-09-22T13:51:00.000-07:00

I've got what appears to be a cold. I woke up with a sore throat and sniffles Saturday morning. At first I thought the sore throat was from....don't kill me, parents....having a few cigs Friday night, but as the day wore on, I realized it was a tad too persistent to be my body punishing me for a drunken decision. I also started to get a little sniffly. Sunday it only got worse. It felt like I'd been awake all night, when really I went to bed at a decent hour. I was so exhausted, visions of having mono all those moons ago (so many moons, BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA) came rushing back to me. It was, and is, terribly unpleasant. I woke up this morning feeling totally knackered, and wanted desperately to go back to bed. However, I forced myself to get up, telling myself it would get better as the day wore on.

Luckily for me, it did get better. I only had to blow my nose a few times during the day. It's always rough when you're teaching, and all you want to do is blow your nose every five seconds. Despite not feeling as bad as I thought I could, I still hated the day. I was in a grumpy mood, for no particular reason, and the kids were being royal pains in the asses. Usually they're pretty subdued on Mondays, because they've just got done with the weekend, and they're all partied out, or whatever else it is they do in England.

Not today though, they couldn't stop talking. I had to use my "stern voice" in all four of my classes today. I knew it was going to be a bad day, when I had to lecture my year 10s on not talking while I was talking...I had to raise my voice within the first ten minutes of the day, and that's never a good thing. I instantly felt drained. I am not good at projecting my voice at pitches higher than a moderate talk. This doesn't fly in the classroom, when you're competing with 30 other voices, most of which have way more energy than you do. I told them that it was "far too early" for me to have to raise my voice, which only got a few snickers. Eventually I got them to settle down, but when I distributed the task, no one seemed interested in doing it. They just continued shooting the shit with each other.

Frustrated, I told them that it was a shame they weren't taking the work seriously, since the play (Twelfth Night) going to require some coursework from them later. This caught their attention slightly, so they worked for about 5 minutes, and then started chattering away again. Inside I wanted to scream at them, but outwardly I just composed myself, and hammered away at the lesson. Eventually people started to notice me talking, and they shushed each other.

Regardless, it was a rough start, and I wasn't too keen on continuing the day in the same fashion.

My lower ability 11s weren't much better. It's hard to get work out of them on a good day, and today was definitely not a good day. One of the girls started to cry while working on a handout on similes. I went over, to see what was wrong, but she wouldn't talk to me, and asked to use the toilet. I let her go, because sometimes we just like to be alone...and besides, why would a 15 year old girl want to talk to ME about her problems? When she was gone, one of the boys told me that she was "hungover". I told him I didn't want to know these things.
"It's true though," one of the other girls said.
"Regardless, that's none of my concern, and it's not yours either. Stay on task," I said.

They worked for awhile, and then the boys at the back of the room started on me again about Canada. It's endlessly amusing to them, to grill me about the differences between Canada and England. No matter how much I try to ignore them, and keep them on task, they always succeed in pulling me into the conversation. Lucky for them, I find most of them to be pleasant individuals, so I really only half-try to ignore their inquisitiveness. They asked me if I knew any British swears. I told them that was inappropriate....but added that I actually had learned about an unintentional swear this weekend....the whole "two fingers" thing, that's the equivalent of giving people the middle finger. It's just the peace sign in Canada. I've made that mistake many a time....and I'm sure offended many people in the process. I just really had no idea.

Then they tried to ask me about "American football". Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of either form of football, so they didn't get much out of me in that regard. I told them I enjoyed hockey, but they didn't seem to care about that. They don't know much about "ice" hockey here. Ugh. I hate calling it that. It seems redundant.

Anyways, they tried to ask me a few other stupid things, but I wouldn't answer them. Then they tried to get personal with me, and ask me if I had a boyfriend.
"Okay, honestly! Do you REALLY care? I mean REALLY!? Let's not talk about this!" I said, trying not to laugh.
In high school, I couldn't have cared LESS what my teachers did in their private time. I certainly never asked them if they had a boyfriend/girlfriend. That wasn't my business, and I was more concerned with getting one for MYSELF. Sooo bizarre.

Eventually, that class ended, and I had my wonderfully angelic year 8s. They're just the cutest, sweetest kids in the world. They do whatever I ask them to do, and they put soooo much effort into it! It really boggles my mind, to think about how my current year 9s could have EVER been like that. I honestly wonder if they were...I can't really make the connection. I just hope that my year 8s will go into year 9 and remain as committed and polite as they are now. Somehow I have my doubts about this though. It seems to me that something "clicks" when kids go into year 9....regardless of where in the world they are. Year 9s, the world around, are hormonal, crazy, rebellious monkeys.

I ended with my higher level 11s. They're usually a pretty good bunch, but today they were a bit off the wall. I also got a LOT of attitude from a pair of them (one student who is supposed to be a Sports Captain dealy....he wears a prestigious 'black shirt'). He was so snarly to me, I thought he'd bite. The girl he was sitting beside was also quite vicious today. I assigned some group work, and split them up, and they tried to fight me on it. They questioned where I had moved them, and feigned ignorance when I confronted them on their failure to follow direction. It was a bit amusing, because the girls around them were listening, and when the snarky girl tried to question what I was asking of her they giggled and said "What's NOT to understand about what she's telling you!? Are you not LISTENING?!"
I had wanted to say the same thing to the girl, but felt it would have been slightly unprofessional for me to do so. But honestly, I wasn't really sure what she didn't understand. I had asked her to move, so she could join a different group, and she kept questioning what I expected of her.
After the other girls chastised her, she rolled her eyes and moved. The guy stalled a bit, but finally went and joined a group of guys.

The whole rest of the class, the girl and the guy averted their eyes every time I joined their group to facilitate their discussion. It was so annoying! Ah well, they're still growing young people, who have a bunch of crazy emotions rolling around in their over-stimulated hormonal heads. I don't envy them at all.

I also think one of the boys in that class got dumped, because he was sulky all class. I also found a note, at the end of the day, that said "Dear ____, You're awesome, don't be sad!"
Seems like something you'd say to someone who got dumped. Or perhaps not. Regardless, I'll keep an eye on him next lesson, just to see.

Anyways, the day's over, and I am quite happy. This week should be an easy one for me. I don't have to teach Wednesday afternoon, because I have a workshop to attend in St. Ives for new teachers. Friday is the Sponsored Walk (kind of like Canada's Terry Fox fun. The kids raise funds for charity/the school though, instead of for Cancer research). It's an all day event, so that should be pretty great! I am just happy that it's an easy day before my BIRTHDAY WEEKEND! Plans are still in the making for that, but I certainly hope it's a fun time. I bought a wicked new Ted Baker dress, and I plan to dress to impress. Who knows, maybe I'll get my flirt on. See what I have time for, ha ha ha! Jokes, jokes.

On that note, I should add that I DID get e-mailed from J today. I definitely think he's interested. If he's not, then he's overly friendly. That could be the case too. I am often wrong at these sorts of things. Who the heck knows...guess I will just have to wait and find out.

Well, I should be off now. I am deathly tired (it's 9:30), and should hit the sheets.

Cheers, darlings.

On Finally Getting a Social Life!

2008-09-20T11:46:00.000-07:00

Well, it's finally, after a month in this country, happened for me! I finally have the beginnings of a social life! I am overjoyed at the prospect of not spending ever weekend alone now! Hurray! Friday morning I got an e-mail from the only other Canadian on staff at the school, welcoming me and hastily inviting me to join a few staff members for a drink in Cambridge that night. I welcomed the idea, and so arrangements were discussed. I ended up catching a bus into Cambridge at 8pm. I had my iPod with me, so I jammed to some tunes while on the bus, and tried to take in the nighttime scenery.

As we got closer to City Centre, I had my eyes peeled for the pub we were supposed to meet at. It was called the Baron of Beef. Sounds classy, right? Eventually I spotted it coming up on the right. Not wanting to have to try to navigate myself back to the pub, I hastily made my way to the front of the bus, and asked the driver if I could possibly get out at the next corner. He gladly stopped the bus, and let me off. Overjoyed at my luck, I walked over to the door to the bar. Before opening the door, I was hit with a few nervous flutters, but I brushed them aside, and opened the door.

Immediately to the right, filling the whole front section of the pub, was a lively group of staff members. Introductions were made, as I wasn't acquainted with many of them, and then I grabbed a pint and settled in for the evening.
I must admit, it was a very very fun evening! I had a total blast, getting to know some of the other staff members. They're all such friendly people, and we had a really good time just chatting, joking, and laughing. Hopefully I make some lasting friendships out of the bunch! I certainly had fun, and I hope more outings occur in the near future!

A few notable things happened in the evening, the funniest being when an unfortunate British fellow puked EVERYWHERE, both inside and outside the bar. I was outside with two of the lovely female teachers, when suddenly a young man stumbled out of the bar, doubled over, and vomited on the pavement. Disgusted, the three of us instantly stepped back. A little of his sick splattered on my shoe.
"SICK!" we shouted, collectively.
"Time to go home, mate," I said to the back of his head.
People walking by heckled him as well, pointing to his vomit and commenting on how gross it was. It was really quite chunky. Looked like Pad Thai, or something.

He stayed hunkered down, with his head between his legs, for a good five minutes not doing anything. I could hear our group inside laughing at the bloke. It was rather funny, I suppose. It's not often you see someone stumble out of the bar at 12:30 in Canada, retching everywhere. The British are absolute lushes. Finally, the guy righted himself, and tried to take a few steps. He was clearly hammered, and couldn't even stand straight without wobbling around, this way and that. He made to go back in the front door, but found it was locked against him.
"Guess we gotta go around the side. Do you have any mates in there?!" one of my colleagues asked him. He mumbled something, with a stupid drunken grin on his face. The three of us headed back inside, and the drunk guy stumbled after us.

We were greeted at the door by the owner, a woman in her late 40s, at least.
"Did you get sick on my floor!?" she demanded of us.
"No, it was that guy," I said, pointing to the guy who was following us in.
"You couldn't make it to the bathroom?! You had to be sick all over my pub?!" she said, angrily.
Giggling, the three of us hurried back to our seats. I had to sidestep a pile of puke on the floor. Apparently he had stumbled to the door, threw up in front of it, opened the door, threw up in the breezeway, and THEN had stumbled outside. That's when we'd seen him puke on the pavement.
Everyone at the table laughed at us, saying it had been hilarious to watch us all jump back instantly when he'd come out. I drunkenly grumbled about my shoes, though lucky for me not a lot had gotten on me.

The owner made the guy help her clean up his mess though, which was poetic justice. You rarely see that in Canada. Unless, of course, you're Mike Holcolm, and you've puked down the stairs at the Mug. Ha ha ha! Oh that story never fails to crack me up.

I also should mention that this week, during staff meetings, I'd started to kind of notice one of the other staff memebers; a younger guy, who was, I later found out, from New Zealand. I kind of developed a teeny crush on him, just talking to him briefly at the meetings.

I also found out that he was the tutor (newly appointed) of one of my "bad" students, Jimmy. I didn't have to make up an reason to e-mail him about Jimmy, since he has a serious problem NOT making fart noises with his mouth. I shot off a quick e-mail, just asking him to speak to Jimmy about proper vs. improper behaviour in class. He e-mailed me back, saying he'd talk to him for me, and then wished me a good weekend, complete with a smilie face emoticon. Solid. Good sign.

Then, when I got invited out, I secretly hoped he'd be in attendance. I was quite pleased when he WAS out, and I secretly endevoured to have a solid conversation with him. The only problem was, that as the night progressed, I got the impression that another of the young ladies on staff (she's the same age as me, actually) also had a crush on him. You know how you can read people's body language? Well, I noticed them up at the bar, ordering drinks, and she was very clearly attempting to lean into him. She was doing all the usual things, that signal to me that a woman is interested in a man. I wasn't sure how to read his response to her, but I knew this could get messy. She is SUPER nice, and we had chatted a lot earlier in the evening. I definitely think we could become pretty good friends, as we're the same age and seem to have a similar personality. I like her a lot, so I really hoped that perhaps I was misreading her interest in J.

Eventually, I did get to have a few decent conversations with him. I tried my best to show a little bit of interest in him, but not too much. I was flirty, but not over the top. I don't want to come across as THAT girl, to anyone on the staff. Slowly, as the night progressed, people started to trickle out. Eventually it was just the three of us, Laura, J and myself.

I ended up missing the bus back, because I just didn't keep track of the time well enough. I was a bit inebriated, and was going to call a cab back to St. Ives. I was convinced this wasn't a good idea though, and a place to crash for the night was offered to me. I gladly accepted. On the way back I also requested, as per usual, some food. They asked me what I wanted, and I drunkenly shouted "poutine!"
Of course, you can't get that in England, so instead I said I would settle for some chips, and perhaps a burger. We caught a cab, went to a little takeaway place, and I ordered a cheeseburger and fries. It was bloody brilliant. Really hit the spot! I can honestly say it was the best burger I've had yet in England. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was something else, but it was freaking great. I scarfed it down super fast, hardly pausing to breath. Food comes first! The three of us headed to Js, were he popped in a movie and we kind of vegged. Laura was sitting next to him on the couch, and was leaning on his arm, with her head on his shoulder. I decided that my initial hunch had been correct. She was very much trying to show that she was interested in him, so I decided to back off. I don't want to burn bridges.

I was pretty hammered, so I started to fall asleep on the couch. At this point, J asked me if I wanted to sleep on the couch or on a blow up mattress. I gladly opted for the blow up.
"Okay, its in my room," he said.
Ooooooo! I thought.

We headed upstairs, leaving Laura passed out on the couch, bless her. I pumped up the mattress with my foot, J got me a sleeping bag, and I settled in for the duration. It was really cold though (this is the honest truth, I was FREEZING), so J told me to bring the sleepingbag onto his bed, and then I could share his blanket. It was totally PG. I really did stay in my sleeping bag, and he just tossed his blanket over me as well. We joked around a bit, had a pillow fight, and then went to sleep. Nothing happened at all, honest. I wouldnt have let it, regardless. When people you work with are involved, you have to be SUPER careful. I don't want to have stories about me started ALREADY! I am just hoping that Laura dosen't get mad, or think something happened between us. Nothing happened, it was legit, 100%.

I don't think she's mad though, as she texted me this afternoon, and seemed fine!

Anyways, when I drink I always find I sleep terribly, so I didn't have the best sleep, but ah well! It woulda been the same regardless of where I was in the world! In the morning, I had to leave super early, as I wanted to make it to the post office in St. Ives before it closed at 11:30. I caught a bus home, and made it to the post office at around 10. I was thinking it was going to be one of the packages from my Mum, but it was the one Meaghan sent me! I was super excited to see what she'd sent, so I didn't waste time opening it. I started walking down the street, ripping the envelope open. Inside was a really adorable card, a very handy book on British slang (I will def. use it against the students, mwha) and a hilarious game called Nun Bowling. It's exactly as it sounds....its a bowling game where you have to knock down little nuns. I laughed so hard, I almost peed my pants. I'm not even joking, I thought it was so cute! People probably thought I was nuts.

Since I was downtown St. Ives, I decided to check out some of the local shops. I went into a shoe store, as I am lacking shoes, and ended up buying a cute pair of mary janes, with a bit of a heel. I figured I could wear them mostly for teaching, but they have the ability to be dressed up. I then went into a clothing store, and bought a dress to wear for next weekend (which just happens to be my BIRTHDAY). A few of the staff members had agreed to come out with me, so I want to make sure I'm dressed to kill for my special day!

It was a GORGEOUSLY sunny day, so I took my time walking home. Once there, I decided to do my laundry, since I could hang it out on the line. It was so warm! I was wearing short shorts and a tank top all day, and was perfectly comfortable. I then decided to relax and watch Hot Rod, have a nap, and mostly just enjoy not having to do anything. Like I mentioned, Laura texted me today, and might come into St. Ives tonight. I'm not sure. I am not super keen on going out, but I will! J also texted me, being very friendly, and possibly a little flirty. Yet another good sign, as it shows he had to ask SOMEONE for my number; I didn't give it to him!

All in all, it was a glorious Friday night, and a wonderful Saturday afternoon.

I am looking forward to next weekend. I hope that it's as fun, if not more fun, than last night.

Cheers!!

On Getting Out Of A Slump

2008-09-10T12:41:00.000-07:00

If you've talked to me at all this week, prior to this exact moment, then you're likely to agree that I've been a bit of a Debbie Downer lately. I feel I must apologize for this behaviour. I really was in a sour mood, and it wasn't really over anything rational. I was just hating life in general, and blaming it entirely on the country of England. If I try to think rationally about it now, the only excuse I can come up with is that it had rained for about a week and a half straight, with little (if any) sign of the sun. I honestly am not sure if this is the sole factor behind my unseasonably terrible mood, but I have a pretty good feeling it plays a large part in it. Being from Southwestern Ontario, I've grown up in a relatively sunny environment. We do get rain, of course. Everyone needs rain to survive. The farmers are certainly hurting when we have dry summers. That said, we don't have nearly as much rain as I've seen here lately. Although, we DID have a rather wet June, didn't we!? I'm trying to remember back that far, but it's proving quite difficult. I don't think I was moody in June, but then again I can't be certain.

I do know, however, that the rain I am experiencing now is definitely having an effect on me. Not seeing the sun for days on end is probably one of the most subtly depressing things in the world. I don't think we really realize how dependent are moods are on the weather until we move somewhere where the weather is drastically different. I firmly believe that part of my problem with England, at the moment, lies simply in my needing to "acclimatize" to the weather here.

Today was the first sunny day in weeks, and I found I was immensely happy for the majority of the day. It also seemed as if things were looking up for me, on a business level as well. I've been having payroll issues since Friday (my payroll fax never made it through, despite REPEATED attempts to send it). Finally it went through yesterday, but unfortunately it was a day too late. Now I won't get paid this week. I'll have to wait until next week to get my first paycheck. The fact that I was going to miss a week of pay was really stressful to me, and definitely added to my sour mood. I am running low on cash, considering I only brought over a small wad of money to sustain myself until my first pay cheque (which was SUPPOSED to be this Friday). I'm not entirely sure if this means I will get paid twice next week, but for some reason I highly doubt it. I think it just means I will be on a two week delay now, instead of one. Bummer. The only plus side is that it will be good for me when I'm done in June, or when I am holiday (I technically don't get paid for the holidays).

Ah well. I also go things sorted with the bank. I had a prep period last today, and the department meeting was cancelled, so I skipped out of the building about ten minutes early ( I didn't tell anyone, so I hope I don't get in trouble). I felt justified though, since I've had such a rough time getting into the bank this week. If I hadn't made it today, I am pretty sure I would have started crying hysterically outside the bank, while banging my fist on the glass, totally frustrated with the world. Luckily, I made it with a half hour to spare.

I went in to the customer service rep immediately, and explained my situation. She pulled up my file, and said that I had been misinformed, and that everything was nearly complete. I had been told my Visa and Passport still needed to be verified, but bank lady told that wasn't true. She turned the screen towards me, so that I could see. Sure enough, there was a very bold "VERIFIED" next to the question about my Passport. Puzzled, I asked her what the hold up was on my bank card then.
"Ah...we just need a proof of address...for Canada," she said.
"For Canada?! But I'm not living there right now..." I said, even more puzzled.
She then explained that because I was signed up for a temporary "Passport" account, that they wanted my home information. They could get my St. Ives address for my temporary address, but it wasn't my permanent one, so they didn't need verification of it.
I pulled out my drivers licence and asked if that was sufficient.
She smiled, and told me it was perfect.
A few moments later, we had everything sorted. She helped me sign up for Internet banking, told me my debit card was in the mail, and sent me on my way.

I was immensely happy to have solved the problem so easily. Two days of frustration behind me, I walked home in much higher spirits.

Right now, I am currently in possession of two whole hours to myself. I have planned ahead enough to take some time to myself. I am quite glad to be feeling so happy now, as I really was starting to detest the grump that I had become. I still am not 100% happy with life right now, but it's a start. I think the best thing for me to do is make some more friends. That area of my life is certainly laking, and I feel I am missing companionship. I also find myself missing Gabriel a lot, and am really wishing I could get a kitten, or a rat, or mouse, or SOMETHING fluffy to love. The only problem with doing that is that I am leaving in June, and would effectively have to leave the poor animal behind. As such, getting a pet is out of the question. I still hate not having one though...I am a bit of a loser, in that I need to have something to mother in my life. It was Gabriel for two years, and now to not have him, well I definitely feel a bit of a void. I miss his grumpy bum so much! Heh heh.

School is going much better. I still am not sure if I am following the British curriculum very well, but as long as I hit the required coursework that's all that matters. Frankly, I am QUITE surprised that they've stuck me with two year 11 classes. From my limited knowledge of the system, year 11 is a very important year. If I fuck this up, I could potentially fuck up the future of 50 some-odd kids. Oye. That's a load to carry. I don't think I am doing them a disservice right now though...but we shall see. I have been trying to find the course objectives (the end products they want them to be able to produce), and have found them in bits and pieces on the shared drive on the school network. I'm slowly starting to grasp this.

I also have to have some "target grades" put in for my year 10s by next Wednesday. I have to fill a grade quota, which I find really stupid, but I think I've got it done. I will just have the head of English look it over, and then go from there.

I answered my first parent e-mails today. It was quite thrilling, to be honest. It made me feel like a real teacher, for maybe the first time since the very first day. I felt so authoritative!! I also gave my first detentions the other day, to my wild bunch of year 9s. They still are not responding to my attempts to tame them. They did, however, calm down considerably after they saw that I WOULD give detentions. Tomorrow I have them last period (and on my FULL day...5 courses in a row, with only 15 minutes for lunch). I pray I make it through the day! I hate ending the day with the 9s though, because they leave me feeling physically empty. It's amazing what an unruly class will do to you. It's like nothing I've experienced before; you're just frazzled. That's the only word I can use to describe it. Frazzled. Completely spent. Used up.

I may have to issue double digit detentions tomorrow. I need to really crack down on this class. Iknow they are testing me, and I cannot let them win. I have to appear strong. I can't worry about them liking me. At this point, I know they don't. But that's fine. They will learn to respect me. Respect means more, at this level.

I also had a horrible incident with Bobby today. The kid does not belong in my class. I have the two top set year 8 English classes. They're both absolutely lovely, with very very able kids. Bobby is such a drain on the one class though, he brings everyone else down. Today he refused to listen to me, in any capacity. I had assigned him a new seat, which he refused to sit in. When I gave the kids a task to do (silent reading, while working on their task for a Literature Circle) he refused to read, write, or do anything even remotely productive. He simply sat like a bump on a log and sang stupid, childish tunes out loud. At one point, he was singing about how Barney (the purple dinosaur) have him HIV...it was ridiculous. I kicked him out at one point, and told him to stand in the hall until I came to talk to him. He refused to leave. I was not going to argue with him, as that was clearly what he wanted. Instead, I started at him, with the door open, and my finger pointed, until he sauntered out. He didn't do this quietly though, but I didn't respond. I simply shut the door behind him, and then stood facing the class, with one eye out the window in door.

I addressed the class first, asking them to please (again) ignore Bobby's behaviour. Instantly I was met with a wave of complaining and griping. The kids all expressed severe concerns over Bobby being in the class. They felt it was unfair to them, as they could never get any work done due to his constant misbehaviour and distractions. I told them I would try to work on a solution (my solution would be to get him out. He refused to learn, and is taking away from other children's right to learn. He needs to leave. There is no helping this kid. I'm sorry, but there truly is not!). I then went out and tried to reason with Bobby. He walked away from me, turning back every few steps. It was clear he wanted me to chase him. I refused, so I simply walked back into the classroom, not finishing what I was saying to him.

It worked, and he followed me in, chattering incessantly at my backside the entire way in. Once inside, I turned on him, and in my meanest voice (I was surprised I had it in me) told him to SIT down and get to work. He sat, but he didn't work. He started singing again.
"Give me your diary," I said firmly. Their diary is their planner, in which teachers can communicate with parents.
"No," he said. He started me right in the eyes, grinning this ridiculously cocky grin.
"Give me your diary," I repeated, my hand out.
"No. You can't get it either, if you go into my bag that's invasion of privacy!"
"I've no desire to go into your bag. You either give me your diary or you get out of my classroom," I said.
He reached into his bag and handed me his diary.
"You can't give me any more detentions this week, I've got one every day," he said, almost proudly.
"I'm not going to give you a detention. I'm writing a note to your parents," I said.
A look that was almost concern came over his face.
"Fine," he said, trying to sound tough. I could tell he was a bit scared though. Clearly he gets in SOME sort of trouble for his behaviour at home. I certainly hope so, anyways.
I quickly penned a note in his diary, stating that his inappropriate behaviour and unwillingness to take any direction was going to result from his not attending my class anymore. I can only HOPE that could come true. The day he leaves my classroom, the happier I (and ALL my students) will be.

After I had written in his diary, he was silent for maybe a minute, and then he started to berate other students again, picking on anyone and everyone near him.

Fed up, I yelled at him to get out of my classroom.
"No," he said again.
"Get. Out." I said, emphasizing both words. "If you refuse to work, I CANNOT allow you to continue to distract other people from THEIR work. Get out of my classroom, NOW"
He grabbed his bag and stood.
"Fine, I'm out of here," he said.
"Wait outside the door until I can come talk to you," I said.
"Nope, I'm leaving. I'm leaving," he said.
He walked to the door, his mouth never shutting, as he lipped off every kid he saw. He went and stood by the window outside my classroom. I started to walk over, and as he saw me approach, he took off down the hall.
I hesitated a moment, debating what to do, but then decided it would be an error in judgement if I went chasing after him. For the good of my class, I had to remain with the majority. If the school had a PA system, I would have paged someone, but seeing as they don't I told no one. Not right away, anyways.

On my break, I sent a number of e-mails about the days events with Bobby. I can only hope that a meeting will result, in which we will discuss Bobby's future in my classroom. He does not belong. In fact, the situation is so bad, that I had at least 10 students in the class ask me if they could switch classes, because they could not work in a room where Bobby was present. He was too much of a deterrent to their learning. I assured them that I would find a way to fix the problem. I wanted to tell them that I was going to lobby to have him removed from my class, but I didn't think that would be professional.

At lunch, I heard Bobby on the playground brag about having "walked out" of my lesson. One of the students in the class interjected though, saying "Um, no Bobby. You were asked to leave, and then you took off. You didn't walk out of anywhere. She didn't want you there, and neither did anyone else". I couldn't help but grin.

But...that's really just one student in a sea of many. He's really the only student I can honestly say I DO NOT like. While the others are not all angels, they at least are not socially awkward, totally disruptive, and extremely unlikable people. They all have their redeeming qualities, and while they do have faults, they aren't always that bad. Everyone has a weakness, and everyone is not perfect. I know that more than anyone. I can deal with my other students, because I know that at heart they're decent people. Bobby is not a decent person. He's an extremely angry, extremely confrontational person...he's very hard to deal with.

Anyways....I don't really relish the idea of ending this on a negative note. Rest assured, my mindset right now is not at all negative. I am feeling quite well right now. For the first time, I am feeling a few seeds of contentment growing. Perhaps soon this feeling will predominate, and my days of being a Debbie Downer will be at their end. Hopefully the sun stays around long enough for this to happen. No flower can grow without the sun, and neither can my happiness in this strange and foreign country.

Another thing that is causing me "happiness conflict" has to do with Trevor. I've talked to him pretty much every day since I've gotten the internet (he doesn't have it now, but I can text his phone with MSN, so we've chatted briefly that way). I thorougly enjoy even brief snippits of conversation with him, because it just makes me feel more secure in the fact that I can go back and woo him. However, it's also a bad thing, because if really keeps me attached to him. This is bad, because it makes it hard for me to rationalize meeting men here. Like I said last post, any men I meet here will be "distractions". That is to say, I won't take them very seriously. I may consider taking them seriously for a few months (dating until I leave, as a maximum), but I don't think any man could win me over enough to make me want to stay past my year. However, because I am so hung up on Trevor, I am seriously doubting even my ability to have casual-ish relationships here! This is an entirely new thing for me, I assure you. If you know me at all, I think you will agree that usually I am kind of a bad girl, when it comes to relationships. I've made a lot of mistakes, gone for a lot of the wrong types of guys...but right now, I'm not interested in making mistakes. This makes me sound like I was a huge whore, which isn't the case at all. I just couldn't really make it past two months with someone. Suddenly, it seems that each week that I spend away from Canada, I grow more and more determined to make some serious moves on Trevor when I return....and not make any mistakes in the meantime. What is this? Is this maturity? Is this growing up? Does this suck? YAH IT DOES!

Ha ha ha! I have needs, dammit! The only problem is, my newly mature mind is fighting my body, in allowing me to fulfill those needs. Oh brain, why must you torture me so.

I'm conflicted on whether or not I will see Jake this weekend. A part of me is saying I should give him a chance. His extreme hotness definitely is swaying me towards letting a meeting take place. Whether or not my brain allows my body to take over, once said meeting happens, is unknown to me. If my friend booze is involved, then the body will almost certainly win. It's a tough situation. Tough indeed. Should anything actually happen, it would have to remain totally secret though...if stupid flings resulted in my never getting a solid chance with Trevor, I'd be thoroughly devestated.

But anyways, I've rambled on enough.

Cheers!!

On My Second Weekend In St. Ives

2008-09-07T12:17:00.000-07:00

This weekend I had a pretty decent time! Friday night I wanted to go out, because I felt I needed to celebrate making it through my first week as a teacher. However, it was raining pretty hard, and my roomies were apphrensive about going out in the bad weather. We shared a glass of wine, and then decided that it would be a better idea to stay in, and go out Saturday night instead. I wasn't horribly upset at the idea, since it would allow me the opportunity to stay in and chat up my friends on MSN. Usually I don't get to talk to too many of them, because of the time difference. I go to bed at 10 here, which is only 5 back home. Most people are just not online at 5 o'clock at night; they're usually eating, or working, or doing something altogether much more interesting.

I managed to somehow stay up until 3am Friday night, just talking to people and catching up. It was really nice! I especially enjoyed talking to Christine, since I've honestly felt like I hadn't talked to her since I left Canada! It was craziness, considering we used to chat on MSN on almost a nightly basis. It was nice to be able to talk to her again, and just get that goofy banter going again. Made me feel more at home with myself, despite the fact that I am many miles away. I really do miss everyone very much...to a disgusting degree. I worry constantly that people will move on with their lives, and forget that I'm a part of it. My biggest fear is to come home and have my friends change. I know this is a tad irrational, but I can't really escape the feeling. I don't think I will come back from this experience changed. I might be slightly more worldly, but nothing drastic. I'll be the same old me! Besides, anything that I gain here, any relationships that I may have with people, will be effectively ended once I return. Obviously I won't end all communication with the people I befriend here, but it won't be the same. I won't have as strong a desire to return, as I do to go home. The problem with me returning home though, is that in my absence life DOES go on. People WILL make new friends, lovers, enemies. When I come back, none of that will change, I'll just be a new addition. A complication, maybe, or worse yet, someone to be brushed aside as a nuicance.

Like I said, it's troubling to me. This is what I fear more than anything.

But let's get off this depressing and irrational line of thought, and move on to something more lighthearted.

Saturday I slept in until around 9:30. When I woke up, I decided to try to go to Tesco, to buy some teaching supplies, bits of technology, and food. I walked to the city centre, and caught a bus to the Tesco in Bar Hill. I spent way more time in the store than I had hoped. At almost two hours, it was one of the longest single store shopping sprees I've ever taken part in! I started by going into the clothing department. I wanted to try and find a fairly cheap rain jacket, and umbrella. I found the umbrella straight away, and added it to my cart. The rain jacket, however, was elusive. They didn't have a single one in the store. I was baffelled, but didn't let it get me down.

Next, I wandered into home electronics. I looked at the laptops, and picked the one I want to buy when I save up some money (a Sony Vaio). It wasn't even that expensive! WOO! The only thing nagging at me about buying a laptop is that a) their keyboard is slightly different (the @ symble isn't with the two, but instead is swapped with the " symbol. It's annoying, trust me) and b) I'm not sure if I want to get one that has a British style electrical adaptor. I can only hope they will see me a North American one once I get home. I'll have to check and see if that is possible, before I take the plunge. After looking at the laptops, I picked out a speaker for my iPod (I need my music!) and a webcam. They cost 20 quid each, which I felt was decent enough. Next I went downstairs, and grabbed some white board markers, a hole puncher (they punch their holes different here...binders all have two rings, in the middle, so your paper has to have holes in the middle too. It's strange), some markers, and folders. I wanted to buy some whiteboards, but they were sold out. Hugely annoying! I really needed those more than anything!

Once I got my supplies, I wandered around grocery. While down the ketchup aisle, I scanned the shelves looking for Franks Red Hot Sauce. Much to my excitement, I spotted two tiny bottles squeezed into the shelf. Unable to contain my delight, I reached up, grabbed a bottle, and squeeled with delight.
"Franks!!!!" I said, embracing the tiny bottle to my face.
The lady next to me stared at me as if I was insane, but my happiness was uncontainable. I smiled at her, my eyes brimming with tears, and continued on down the aisle. The happiness I felt from finding the Franks was with me for the rest of the trip. I felt euphoric. I realize you may think this is a bit insane, considering it's only a bottle of hot sauce. However, if you've ever been away from home, you will understand the simple pleasures that come from finding something that you take for granted back home. Franks is that thing for me. I can't survive without it. It makes my food experience complete. I will often pour some in a bowl, just to have the flavour in my mouth now and again. I love the stuff, with all my heart. Oh Franks Red Hots....how you make me happy is inexplainable.

I grabbed as much food as I thought I could carry home, and headed to the checkout. Packing my bags proved to be a challenge, as I had clearly bought more than I had expected. My two bags were bulging and heavy. I put them in the cart, and wheeled myself out of the store towards the bus stop. Once I saw the bus coming, I had to discard the cart, and carry the burden of my bags alone. It was not pleasant. The walk from the station in St. Ives to my house was horrendous. I was cursing the entire time, and vowing never to do this again. My shoulders ached from the weight of the bag, and I felt very much like an ox, struggling under the yoke of an overzealous master.

I finally managed to make it hope. I dropped my bags with relief, and set about putting things away. Once I was in the safety of my room, a knock came to my door.
"Come in!" I said cheerfully.
Roland poked his head in.
"Sheet Kreesta, you shoulda aasked me for a ride to da Tesco. I would have dri-ven you, no problem. You stop being the polite, ookay? Sheet! Seriously!"
I laughed at him, and promised him that next time I would ask him for a ride. I told him I just didn't want to bother him.
He waved me off, saying that it "Is not a problem! Just ask the next time, ookay?"
I assured him that I would, and he left.

My roomies really are quite nice. He actually got MAD at me for NOT asking for a ride! What a super guy! They really do go out of their way to make me feel at home here, which is all I could ask for. Great people, really great.

Saturday night we all decided to go out in St. Ives. It was raining yet again, but we found that my new umbrella fit into Victoria's purse, so we popped it in there, and headed out. Frank joined us this time, which was alright. He was drunk before we left the house, having drank quite a bit of wine. I was tipsy, and feeling quite good.

We went to a nicer place called The Lounge first. It was kind of like a martini bar, decorated very modernly, with white leather couches nestled among chic black coffee tables. The music was really loud, with a DJ upstairs spinning some great tunes. We went and grabbed a seat at the bottom of the stairs on the basement level of the club. As people walked down the stairs, I checked them all out. Roland laughed at me, after awhile, saying "Kreesta, you have hungry eyes!"
I laughed, and assured him that I had eyes for no one here. I still found it funny that he thought I was on the prowl though.

We had two drinks there, then decided to go to the Ice Box, where we could dance. The bouncer at the door checked my passport, and laughed when he realized I was Canadian.
"Why the hell come here, darling?!" he asked me.
"Why the hell NOT!" I said, laughing.

The bar was decent enough. Reminded me, yet again, of the Palace. Same kind of music, same kind of crowd. However, taking after it's namesake as an Ice Box, the place was constantly being pumped full of that smoky foggy stuff that so many clubs use. There was a constant haze in the place, and it made my contacts itch a little. I got used to it after while though, as the drinks started flowing. Victoria and I danced the night away, while Paulo had a dance off with some British guy who kept trying to put the moves on me.

I wasn't interested in the guy though, because he looked to be about 30. Gross. I like them younger, not older. Ha ha ha. Jokes, jokes. But seriously, yuck. To get him to leave me alone, I started to try to catch the attention of a tall, handsome fellow. Every time he caught be looking at him, he looked bewildered, like he wasn't sure I was looking at HIM. However, he eventually got it, and came up and danced with me. I was glad for it, because the unwanted attention of Paulo's dancing mate was getting to be too much for me. I was pretty drunk at this point, and started to dance very seductively with the tall boy. He was loving every minute of it, and kept inching towards my neck, nuzzling me softly. Victoria was dancing with Paulo at this point, and was giggling at me. I winked at her, and she gave me the thumbs up. Eventually, she decided to go sit with Roland, so she waved at me, pointed to our table and then looked at me expectantly. I smiled at her, nodding my head, and she smiled back, walking away. I love unspoken girl talk. I continued dancing with my sexy British man, much to my delight. He was quite strong, and he manipulated my body a few times, spinning me around, and then pulling me in tight. It was great fun! Eventually, he spun me so I faced him, and then he moved his head down as if to kiss me. The booze, at this point, had filled me with unwanton desire, as it is want to do, and I hungrily kissed him. You know how drunk dancefloor making out can be...it was thrilling stuff. I giggled in his ear after, and he laughed back.
"You're absolutley beautiful..." he said.
I giggled more, and shook my head.
"I'm alright..."
"No. You're the most beautiful girl in here...but then again, British women are always at a disadvantage to Canadians," he said.
I laughed again, and asked how he knew I was Canadian, since I hadn't told him that yet.
"I have cousins that live in Canada. You sound like them," he replied.
We danced for while more, and then I felt myself getting too sweaty, and decided to get off the dancefloor. I told him I was tired of dancing, so he took my hand and lead me off the floor. No sooner had we appeared in the bar area, than his friends appeared, saying that it was time for them to leave. They looked at me, approvingly, winking at Jake (I had found out his name during a break in our making out). He asked me for my number, and I drunkenly put it into his phone. I was worried that I had gotten it wrong though...you know how it is when you drink. After he left, I went and sat with Victoria and Roland. We decided to leave shortly, and went to fetch Paulo and Frank.

It was a this point that we all realized we hadn't seen Frank in quite some time. He was completely gone. We looked around the bar, which was not big, and he was not there. Perplexed, I texted his phone, but got no reply. Roland told me not to worry, that Frank often disappeared like that, and that he'd turn up in the morning. Feeding off his lack of concern, I let the matter drop. On the walk back to the car, I heard my phone beep, which signalled a text message. Checking it, I was overjoyed to see it was Jake. He said he was sorry for leaving, but his buddies had been keen to go. He then repeated that I was way to beautiful, and that he hoped to see me again soon. I texted him back, and we exchanged MSN addresses that way. I was squeeling with delight the entire ride home, gushing about how I had gotten the number of a super sexy British bloke. Victoria just grinned at me, listening to me rant.

We headed home, and I decided it was the perfect opportunity to call Trevor and wish him a Happy Birthday. Don't think that all this making out with a hot British guy was throwing me off my main goal at the moment; to ensure that I remain in Trevor's head, if not a little in his heart. Obviously I'm a woman with needs, so I'm not going to live in England and become a nun, while I pin away for someone who lives miles away (and who may not even be interested in me!) I certainly don't expect him to be chaste while I am away, so I feel that the same goes for me. Anything that does happen over here is temporary, but my feelings for Trevor are not. At least, I don't think they are. I still feel pretty strongly about him...I just think we clicked so well, on a level that I haven't felt in ages. Even while kissing Jake, I had Trevor in the back of my mind. I'll admit I worried about how my actions would be interpreted, if he ever found out...but I think he's an outstanding fellow, and I think he is realistic enough to know that a year is a long time to remain totally committed to the IDEA of something (we weren't anything when I left, and we're not anything now, but I hope that we are something some day. That's the idea).

Anyways....It took me TEN attempts to get through to Trevor's cell phone, because I kept drunkenly dialing the wrong number, but eventually I got through. I could tell he didn't know who I was right away.
"HEY!" I said when he picked up
"Hi..." he said, in that tentative way that we all have.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" I said.
"Thanks...who is this?!" he asked.
"It's Krista, silly!"
"OH MY GOD! HEY! WOW! Thanks for calling! WOW!"
I talked to him for awhile, with a few brief interruptions(welcome ones) from Holly and Matty. It was so nice to hear familiar voices, and it really made me feel as if I were there. I could picture exactly the scene, in my head, of people sitting around on the back deck, while Trevor spoke with me while inside the family room. I could almost feel the atmosphere, and smell the smells of home. It made me horribly homesick, but at the same time it was just so nice to talk to him, and everyone else! I was pretty hammered, so I'm sure I said some stupid things, but luckily for me I didn't say what I COULD have said...really awful, terrible, embarrassing things....things that I won't even bother to discuss here, as the chance of it getting out is high enough, and I'd rather not be "that girl". I did, however, work on tryin to convince him to come to England. I think he may actually come when Ethan comes, in March...that would be amazing. I would love to have him here, especially after Christmas, because that is going to be the long haul. Anyways, we talked for an hour if not more, and then I decided to let him get back to his birthday celebration. I hung up with reluctance.

When I got upstairs, I noticed I had a new add on MSN. It was Jake! He was still up, so we chatted for ahwile. He eventually called my phone as well, and we talked for a good 45 minutes.
"Hey. We've been talking for 45 minutes!" he said, sounding surprised.
"Yah, I guess so!" I said.
"That's crazy, it hasn't felt that long!!"
"Guess I'm just a good talker..." I said.
"I guess so!" he replied.
We talked for a little while more, and then his phone ran out of time. He messaged me on MSN, embarrassed, but I assured him it was fine. I went to bed around 5, and woke up this morning exhausted. I was slightly mad at myself, for wasting the weekend getting more tired, instead of getting the sleep I so desperately wanted. I am sad that I have to go back to work tomorrow. I wish the weekends were longer...I am almost dreading the week. I think I am starting to get worried about my teaching. I am worried I'm not cutting it as a teacher in England. How we teach at home is completely different, and while I know I am a good teacher at home, I have doubts about my abilities here. Oh well. I can only do my best, and take from the experience whatever I can. I know it will make me a better teacher in the end, even though I absolutely hate a great deal of it (not all of it though. My year 8s make it all worth it, they are so delightful [Bobby aside]).

Anyways, I should probably end here....

Don't expect a lot of updating during the week. We all know how busy I am with school. I will try my best though.

Love and miss you all!

On Filling The Void

2008-09-04T12:53:00.000-07:00

Well, I've been planning and planning and week, and suddenly I find myself with an hour to kill before I go to bed. What a perfect opportunity for me to get a solid blog in! I know Andie specifically requested that I do an update, so here it is, lovey!

I guess I should go more in depth into my week so far. It's been one hell of a week, that's for sure! I'm definitely still trying to find my teaching feet, for lack of a better term. I'm still stuck in the Ontario curriculum mentality, so I make a lot of comparisons, and I find myself thinking in terms of how we teach in Ontario. How we teach in Ontario is better than how they teach here, and I really think they should all sit in on some of my lessons and learn a thing or two about REAL teaching. From what I've seen so far of the British education system, it's totally backwards. They place all their emphasis on getting good test results from their students. I'm not entirely up to par on how the system works, so I may be slightly wrong here, but let me try to explain....

Basically, how their system works is that they test their students, nation wide, using a few (a SELECT few) different exam boards. They test them in Year 7, Year 9, and finally in Year 11. The last exam, in Year 11, is one that they take almost TWO YEARS preparing for. I was given two classes of Year 11s this year, and told that most of their "coursework" for Year 11 was completed in Year 10, so that all I have to do is reinforce what they already know. Looking at the objectives of what they want me to teach, it is all geared towards SPECIFIC types of questions on the final exam (the GCSE). The GCSE is kind of like the SATs in the United States, in that students are rated on their score, and can decide from these scores what they want to take in their "A-Levels". You see, High School in the UK only goes to Year 11, or to the age of 15. That is the HIGHEST age people in this country MUST attend school to. Therefore, you can stop at 15, and start working in the real world. In fact, they have students in the lower performing classes go to co-ops (workplace) classes more than they're in the real classroom setting, working on getting a job. From my understanding, most of these students will simply make the transition from their co-op into the working world. At 15 years of age. Something is wrong with that pictures.

If students get good grades on the GCSE, they can then go on to do their A-Levels, which means they essentially will start to attend a community college, of sorts, which will prepare them to enter a University in two years time. After that, I am fairly certain most people complete a three year University degree. That means that the majority of people MY age have been done university for a year or two, at least, and are working in the real world. It almost seems as if they push people into adulthood, in this country. It's just so mind boggling. I can't wrap my head around it.

Anyways, back to the GCSEs... I really dislike the system, because the school is OBSESSED with getting good results. As it turns out, the school is in the top 20% of schools in the country, with 91% of Year 11 students that wrote the GCSE in July passing in the A* (A star) to C level. The numbers correspond to the same percentages over in Ontario (i.e. an A* is 90% and up and a C is 50 and up). The average in the country is something like 73% (of students achieving an A* to C). The test, from my understanding, is written in a number of different sittings, and has different exams for different classes. Therefore, Math has its own, English has its own, Technology has its own, and so on and so forth. They then add all the scores, and find out the average of the top 8. That's what gets you your final mark. Something like that. It's confusing. Anyways, there are books written every year for teachers to use, and they contain LAST years GCSE test questions. I've been given one of the books, and told to use it as a base to teach my Year 11s. They want me to hammer into their heads what types of questions will be on the test, and how they should answer the quests ions to get the best result.

In my mind, that is not how you effectively teach. That is how you teach children to memorize, and perform based on specific goals and outcomes. That's not learning. That's rote memorization. I fail to see how that leads to successful individuals, who are committed to being lifelong learners. They're simply pumping out students that know how to perform well on specific kinds of tests. I think that the system here really fails the creative kids, because it doesn't allow for individuality, it wants uniformity among people. It's bloody awful.

I also hate the schedule the school runs on. In Ontario, we work on a semester ed system, so every teach teaches 6 classes throughout the course of the year, but they only teach 3 at a time. They also get a really sweet 70 minute prep period EVERY DAY. In England, we have to teach the 6 classes all year, 5 periods a day, in 60 minute classes. You also are not guaranteed a prep period every day. Today, for example, I had 4 classes in a row, with absolutely NO break in between. I didn't get a break until 1:10, at which point I was not only starving, but had to pee like a race horse. I was severely unimpressed. The only plus side was that it made the day seem to go by really fast, which meant that Friday was that much closer.

I also found, in talking to other teachers, that they don't really play very far in advance. When I was told of a "Sponsored Walk" day on September 26th (in which the entire school spends the day hiking around the country), I looked in my planner and said "Oh! I've got to change some lesson dates then!".
The teachers around me started at me, their jaws literally dropped.
"That's impressive you've got planned that far in advance!" one of them said.
I gave a puzzled look, "Yah....it works better for me that way..."
They just nervously laughed at me. Clearly they don't plan a month in advance. Clearly I'M the crazy one....... *rolls eyes*

They also don't make very thorough lesson plans. Whenever I've asked to see what other teachers in the department have done with a unit that I am now teaching, they hand me a file folder that is randomly full of various different handouts and other crap. I can't find a single lesson plan in the bunch, and am starting to wonder how they teach over here. If they don't have formal lesson plans, do they just wing it?! I NEED to have a lesson plan for every lesson that I teach, otherwise I feel hopelessly lost. Maybe that's just me though. I AM a tad over-organized. But it's how I work, and it's proven effective. All I know is that once I become a teaching veteran, should anyone ever ask to see MY units of study, they will be delighted to find that I've got EVERYTHING included; I've got all the lesson plans, the handouts that go with the lessons, samples of coursework, the whole gamut.

Anyways, for you non-teachers reading this (practically all of you), I am sorry if this bores you. However since this is my CAREER, it is very important to me, and I felt the need to really explain my problems with the system. Teaching in England has really shown me how GREAT teaching in Ontario is. Our Unions have fought hard (think back to the strikes of your childhood) to get everything that we have now, and we really do deserve it. We've also go a good curriculum going on, and good teaching practices in effect. I can only hope that some day the teachers in England will clue in to what a horrible system of education they have, in comparison to the rest of the world (or Canada in particular). I may be biased, but I really do think Ontario has a great program in place. People there may complain, but they need only experience education in England for a WEEK to understand just how good it really is.

Anyways, enough of that. Sorry to bore you!

Tonight my roommate Frank made dinner for the rest of the housemates. It was some kind of baked chicken breast, with dijon mustard on top, and melted cheese. He served it with steamed broccoli and cauliflower. It was actually really delicious. I also really appreciated it, because it meant that I didn't have to come home and cook, after my ridiculously long day today.

Ah, I feel I should mention a little more about my classes, specifically. Some of it is entertaining.

My two Year 8 classes are, for the most part, absolutely delightful. They're still young enough that they respect me instantly as a teacher, but old enough to do a bit harder work. The boys especially are sweet, very cute! I adore teaching them, because they work hard, and get excited about my lessons. There is, however, one boy in one of the classes that drives me insane. We'll call him "Bobby". On the very first day, Bobby walks into class and booms at me "Where do I sit, Miss?"
I direct him to the seating plan on the board, and he searches for half a second then declares, "I can't find myself Miss. I'm not on the list!"
I ask him his name, and when he tells me I find him, and point him in the right direction. He takes his sweet time walking to the seat, pausing to smack every kid lightly on the head as he goes.
They all groan at him, and look at me with pleading eyes.
"Bobby! That is totally inappropriate, and I won't stand for that. That's your FIRST warning"
He scowls at me as he sits down, plopping his bag on the desktop.
"You know the school rules, Bobby. All bags under the desk," I say sternly.
"Rules don't apply for me, Miss"
"They apply for everyone..."
He tries to argue with me over anything and everything, but I resolve to try ignoring him. It works for awhile, but he starts to turn from getting my attention to getting the attention of the entire class. He does everything from bang on the desk, to calling people random horrid names, to sticking his head in his backpack and screaming.
Eventually, no one can ignore him, despite my signals to everyone to do so. They look at me with utter annoyance in their eyes, so I decide enough is enough.
He also decides, at this point, to call a passing girl a slut. This puts me over the edge.
"Bobby, you can go into the sin bin now" I said.
"No, I can't" he says.
I walk over, and stand beside him.
"You can go in the sin bin now" I repeat.
He stands up, and walks into the room. I point to the chair, and tell him to sit quietly until I decide to let him back in.
I close the door, and give the students a pep talk on ignoring his behaviour, and perhaps it will stop.
I finish this quick rant, only to hear Bobby SINGING at the top of his lungs in the sin bin. Now, the sin bin is located between my classroom and that of the Department Head, Lesley. There is a window looking into her classroom from the sin bin, so she can see in. She has a class in session, and I see the door open from her side. Nervous, I tell the class to work on a question, and I too enter the sin bin.
"Bobby couldn't make it one class, eh?" she asks me, smiling.
"Afraid not..." I said.
"I'll take care of it," she says.
I turn and leave, grateful for her help.

At the end of the day, I apologize for putting Bobby in the room. She tells me I did the right thing, and that it's not a problem at all.
"Putting Bobby in your set of upper level students is a test...we're trying to see if they can keep him from acting up...we'll see how long he lasts"
I pray that he won't last long, and that they will deem the experiment a failure. I don't want him in my class, and neither do the students.

At the end of that class, one of the girls comes up and timidly asks me if she's in the right set. I know instantly that she thinks Bobby's presence means she's been put in a lower learning level class. I assure her that's not the case.

Today, I also got an e-mail concerning Bobby and another student. Turns out the student I have sitting next to Bobby has gone to his councillor "concerned and upset" about the seating arrangement, asking that it be changed. I'm really at a loss of what to do! That class has 32 students, and I have used up all the available seating. There is also literally no room for me to add a desk, for Bobby to sit in my himself. It's so frustrating! I may try moving him on a class by class basis, but I don't think that's very fair to HIM....so we shall see what I do on that front.

I also have two Year 11 groups, one that is higher level and one lower. They are both absolutely delightful, and I have very few problems with them. The lower level class is full of students mostly with IEPs, but they can still perform, when given he right amount of help and attention. There is on TA (English EAs) in the class. After today's lesson, she gave me a real boost, when she told me that she'd NEVER seen one of the boys participate as much as he did today with me. I beamed, from ear to ear, happy to hear that I was successful with SOMEONE at least.

My Year 10s are also quite good, they listen well, and are hard workers. No complaints there.

My Year 9s I had for the first time today. They proved to be a challenge, with one kid having ADHD, and other being borderline ADHD. They're both really nice boys though, and I think I can handle them fine. They're very vocal, but they do pay attention and give good answers. The only problem with the class is that they're all so eager to talk, that they talk at once. Mind you, they were all trying to talk about the task at hand, which is good. The only problem is, when you've got everyone shouting answers at the same time, you can't hear anything at all! It was total chaos! I'm going to try to fix the problem tomorrow, but sitting down and getting the class to help me write some classroom rules. If I make them think raising their hand to speak is THEIR idea, maybe they'll actually do it.

Anyways, I've rambled on enough for tonight. I will likely add more on Saturday, when I've got the day off.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY to my Mom and Dad, by the way. Tomorrow, September 5th, is their 27th Anniversary. I LOVE YOU GUYS!!

Cheers!

On My First Day At SVC

2008-09-01T12:12:00.002-07:00

I can't type much right now, as I am rather strapped for time. Today was my first day as an official teacher at SVC, though it wasn't a class day. Instead, it was a staff meeting day, where we talked over where we want to go in the coming year. To sum up my day, I felt overwhelmed for the majority of the day. Everyone around me was British, and it was clear they all had a thorough grasp of the education system here. Me, on the other hand, sat listening with growing concern over my prepardness. With everything they said, I felt myself growing smaller and smaller. I honestly was on the verge of tears at one point, totally scared shitless about what I had gotten myself into. It must have been fairly obvious that I was in distress, because Lesley (the head) quickly stopped to ask me if I was alright.
I gulped out that I was "okay", and that I was merely "trying to absorb all the information". Inside I felt like I was overflowing with a jumble of words, all of which made little sense to me. Towards the end of the afternoon, we were allowed to go to our classrooms and get settled.

I had gotten my laptop previously, and wandered into my room. It needs decorating (Mom, send me those things ASAP!). I turned on the laptop, and played around with the projector. After about 5 mintutes, and error message popped up. I clicked "Yes" on it, to make it go away...and it popped up again. And again. And again. I felt my eyes tingle, as I felt the tears start to well up again. However, determined not to cry, I packed it up and took it down to IT.

The school employs two full time IT people, whose job it is to look after all the computers in the school. Clearly they were busy, with many other laptops sitting on a table. I walked in, handed the fellow mine, and explained my problem.
"You've got a virus, love" he told me, matter of factly. "I'll add it to the pile and get to it when I can..."
I thanked him, and assured him I had my own laptop to use, so he could prioritize mine accordingly.
He nodded briskly at me, and I scurried out of the room.
Just another blip in my horrid day, I thought.

I headed back upstairs, and was met by Louise, whose classes I am taking over (she's heavily pregnant). She took me into her room, and walked through some of the year 11 coursework with me. This eased my fears a little, since I had NOTHING prepared for that class yet. I'm feeling slightly better, and hope to have it sorted out soon enough. She was also very friendly, offereing me her schemes of work, and told me to pester her as much as I wanted. Everyone in the department was equally nice, offering to share their resources, and telling me to come to them at any time for help. It's a huge relief to know I have such good support. They clearly want me to succeed, which is nice.

I also met the other new English staff member, a girl my age named Rachel. It is her second year teaching, her first at the school. WE also found out she just moved to St. Ives with her boyfriend, so we're going to carpool together! YAY! A ride!

Anyways, I would love to add more, but I have so much work to do! I will write brief little bits throughout the week!

Cheers

On My First Days In St. Ives

2008-09-01T12:12:00.001-07:00

August 29, 2008

I’ve successfully moved into St. Ives! I spent the morning at the Bed and Breakfast just packing the last of my things up, and then lounged around. Karen’s daughter, who is just starting at SVC this year, came and served me my breakfast this morning. I think she must have asked her mother if she could do it, because she was clearly trying to see who I was, so that she would be able to recognize me once school starts. She was a cute little thing! I’ll try to remember her face, and smile and wave at her if I should see her around campus.

I scarfed down the breakfast, since I hadn’t ate dinner the night before. I couldn’t eat all of it though, so I ate what I could. I was very tired still, from staying up late talking to my friends and family. It was worth it though! In fact, I was pleasantly surprised to find I could steal an internet signal when I got home from London. It was such a relief, because I do miss talking to my loved ones on a daily basis. I spent most of Thursday afternoon and evening chatting on MSN, and watching the television. After breakfast this morning, since I was still tired, I decided to lay down for a bit of a “morning siesta”. I slept from 10 until 12, which was a little longer than I had expected! I woke up, went on the internet for about half an hour, and then gathered all my stuff to leave. Karen and I had discussed what I owed her that morning, so I opened my purse to get the money out for her. Unable to find my bundle of cash, I soon came to realize that I had left it in my suitcase, which Frank had taken with him to the house in St. Ives the night before. Cursing myself, I debated what to do. Karen had told me after breakfast that she and a friend were going on a daytrip, and that she wouldn’t be back before I left. I searched my brain, trying to think of the best thing for me to do, then decided to give her whatever cash I had in my wallet, and write her a note. I had only 60 pounds in my wallet, which is just less than half of what I owe her. I searched high and low for a piece of paper, and finding one penned her a little note:

“Karen, I didn’t realize it last night, but I accidentally sent along all my money in my suitcase, to my place in St. Ives last night. I don’t have all my money with me, and therefore can only pay you 60 pounds. I will stop by on Monday after work to pay the rest of what I owe you. I feel like a sodding idiot. So sorry! Krista”

Hopefully she isn’t too mad! It was not my intention at all to not immediately pay her! I truly do feel like a retard for forgetting my money. Had I been in a real hotel, I doubt I would have gotten away with it. I also provided her with my cell number, so that she can call me if she wants to. Bah!

I took the 1:12pm bus from Swavesey to St. Ives, and upon arrival called Frank to see if he could pick me up. He was free, so he swung around to fetch me. I was glad of it, because while the walk to the house is not far, it was not something I relished having to do with my luggage, even in its reduced form. Once we arrived at the house, he gave me my key, told me that my rent would be due every month on the 29th, and then let me go and get myself sorted. I quickly went to work on unpacking my things, and setting up shop. I quickly started to devise a list of things that I needed to buy for the room; little items that would make it more “mine”. After getting the majority of it out, I decided to put unpacking on hold for awhile, and head to the city center to work out my bank stuff and get some groceries. The walk to city center wasn’t long at all, about 15 minutes maximum (if that).

I went to the bank first, just in case they had wonky hours and closed really early. I went up to the tellers first, since I wasn’t entirely sure who I had to see. I explained what I had to do, and they told me I should go to customer services, which was to my left. I thanked the ladies, and headed to the sign that read “Customer Services”. There was a small desk beside the wall under the sign, with a computer on it. I figured I just had to wait there, and someone would come take care of me. I stood there for about 10 minutes, and no one showed up. I started to feel a bit foolish, so I went back to the tellers and asked if there was someone specific I had to see. They laughed at me, and told me to walk around the corner into one of the offices, if the man was not with a customer. I thanked them again, feeling like a total dumbass. This time I walked around the corner, and a young man, probably around my age, popped his head out of one of the offices.
“I’m sorry, do you need some help?” he asked.
“Oh, yes please…” I said. I went into his office, and had a seat opposite him at this desk. I handed him the form from Dream and HSBC that I had received at training, and explained that an account was already open for me. All I needed him to do was fax a copy of my passport to the HSBC office in Halifax, and the whole thing would be settled. He read the form, then took my passport and copied it, signed it, and then faxed it off. He was very friendly, talking to me about where I was from, why I had come, and a few other things. We sorted out my new address, so that they wouldn’t send my new bank card to Canada (because that was the address currently in the system!), and then we were finished! I shook his hand, and told him I would see him again soon.

My next stop was the “Warehouse Clearance Store”, which Frank had told me previously was where I could find “cheap” stuff. I walked in, and instantly recognized myself as being in what we would call a dollar store in Canada. I wandered around, picking up a mirror for over my makeup desk in my room, and some hangers. Since we only have one bathroom in the house, I figured I wouldn’t tie it up doing my hair and makeup; that I could do in my room, with the help of a mirror. Obviously it being from the dollar store makes it cheap and plastic-y, but it does the job just fine!

The final stop was the grocery store. I was a bit annoyed to find that the store didn’t have any carts. All they had was the hand basket. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fit all my stuff in the basket, so I hoped and prayed they wouldn’t mind if I had to stick a few items in the bags I had brought with me. I knew it would look like I was stealing, but obviously I wasn’t. Anyways, it was a small shop, so it didn’t take me long. I picked up a pack of tomatoes, which were VERY tiny compared to the tomatoes back home. All they had were the tiny vine ripened tomatoes, no hot houses etc. It definitely made me miss home a little, especially considering I had planted some tomatoes in the summer, and never got to eat them. BOO! I also bought a pack of peppers, three pieces of chicken breast, some hummus, a small loaf of bread, a pack of buns, some sandwich meat, yogurt, cheesestrings (so glad they have these too!), curry and madras paste, basmati rice, ravioli, a can of Ragu (they didn’t have a lot of selection for sauce, which made me miss Presidents Choice very much. I love their Spicy Red Pepper sauce), a bottle of Tabasco (the Habanera one, extra hot. No Franks Red Hot to be found, sadly. If you want to send me a bottle, I’d be thrilled!), a box of Orange Juice (“with fruit bits”, which I can only assume refers to the pulp), some “chips”, “crisps”, two boxes of battered fish (they were on sale), chicken nuggets, a pizza, and a bottle of wine (for 4 pounds….ridiculously cheap!!!). All in all it came to 50 pounds total. I don’t like to think in terms of converting anymore, because then my modest groceries amounted to $100 Canadian. If had spent that much at Zehrs I would have came home with a bigger haul….but that’s neither here nor there.

I fit the groceries into the two bags I had brought, and headed out. Using re-useable bags is very common over here, much more so than in Canada, where it is just catching on. No one uses the plastic bags anymore, and if you do get them, they encourage you to re-use THOSE as well.

The walk home was pretty rough, because my two bags were quite heavy. I was relieved when I finally made it home. I was also starving, and decided to cook up the pizza straight away. Tackling the oven was something else… It was very tiny, and it did not have a degree gauge. It just had numbers. When I checked the pizza box for instructions I found that this is pretty standard, because it told me to “pre-heat the oven to dial 7/345 degrees”. So I started the oven, which is gas, and put it on dial 7. I could actually SEE the flames shooting up the back of the oven, which was a tad odd. We have a gas range at home, and I’ve never been able to see the flames in the oven. It worried me slightly; I didn’t want my pizza to cook unevenly as a result. However, I decided not to worry about it, and popped the pizza in. I pulled it out when it was done, ravishingly hungry. It was decent enough, though not what my craving had wanted. I ate most of it, leaving three pieces for the fridge. Breakfast, mmmmm.

At around 6pm, my roommate Victoria came home. She is beautiful! She’s tall, I’d say about Sheena’s height, very thin, with long legs! She’s also blonde (though not naturally), with beautiful big eyes, and a pleasant happy looking face. She’s Ukrainian, and she doesn’t think her English is very good. I thought she spoke quite well though! However, I worry that I talk to fast, and sometimes she can’t understand me, so I will make an effort to talk slowly to her. She seemed really happy to have a girl roommate, since I think she’s been living with her boyfriend Roland and Frank for awhile now. She asked me if I liked to shop, and I told her I did. She smiled, clapped her hands, and said that we would have to go to Cambridge soon, to do some shopping. I was fine with that, as I do need to pick up some new clothes and shoes. She also told me that she didn’t like fashion in England, as it’s too casual for her. I laughed a bit, as I find it is very similar to Canadian fashion. I’m not finding that we’re seasons behind in Canada, it’s mostly very similar. We chatted for awhile, and then I went upstairs to finish my unpacking, and to decorate my room.

At about 8, my other roommate and Victoria’s boyfriend, Roland (I believe that’s what it is), came home. He is Russian, and also speaks with a heavy accent; however his English is much better than Victoria’s. He reminds me a lot of Tony, in that he’s built much the same way; he’s a buff fellow, but with a teddy bear mentality. He was also very very friendly, and went out of his way to try and make me feel at home. He told me that he was having two friends over, and that they were going to go out drinking, and asked me to come along. Eager to see what the night life in St. Ives was like, and wanting to make friends with my roomies and possibly their friends, I agreed. I quickly got myself ready, and then joined Roland downstairs to sip on some wine, while we chatted. It was a very nice night! I think that I will get along just fine with the two of them; they are very friendly and warm! Roland also asked me to try and help Victoria with her English, which I said I would do. She really is quite good already. She just needs to speak it more often! Their friend Paulo came over at about 10:30, and at 11 we hopped in Roland’s car and drove downtown. They didn’t know what club they wanted to take me to, but finally decided upon going to one called Music (I think, I can’t really remember that well now ha ha). It reminded me a lot of the Palace/Trappers. It had the same kind of atmosphere and music. The bar was two floors, with a long bar at the front both upstairs and downstairs. Upstairs had places to sit and drink, while downstairs was generally a large dance floor. The top floor was open in the middle, so that you could stand around the railing and look down on the people dancing in the middle. We went upstairs first, and watched people dance. Soon we decided to sit and chat, which we did for awhile. However, Victoria and I soon got the itch to dance, so we went down to the dance floor. The boys came down, but did not dance. They stood off to the side, watching us to make sure none of the men tried any funny business.

While dancing, I noticed a super hot fellow. He had longer hair, kind of like Ethan’s, cut and styled very nicely. You can really only pull of that look if you have fine hair, and he definitely did. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I have a weakness for guys with a stylish shaggy doo. He was also dressed in a very trendy looking pair of jeans (nice jeans on a man is so hot), and a white graphic T that hugged him in all the right places. He completed the look with a leather belt. His ass looked fabulous. In my less-than-shy state I shot him many seductive looks (or at least what I felt were seductive looks). I held his attention a couple of times, and he smiled at me. I smiled back. However, dancing doesn’t allow you much time to flirt, as you’re constantly warding off gross losers who try to grab your body. Victoria and I spent much of the time doing “the lesbian tango”, spinning each other around and away from creepers who came up behind us. A couple of times Roland came down to the dance floor to shoo the unwanted men away. It was nice, because most of the daring boys were way out of our league! A lot of guys also came up to tell us that we were “beautiful girls”, which was a nice ego boost. Towards the end of the night, right before 2am when they shut the club down, I spotted my sexy fellow again. I made eye contact and smiled, and this time he came over! AH! He asked me my name, and when he heard my accent he asked where I was from. I told him I was from Canada. His next question was one I have been getting a lot…
“Why are you in St. Ives?!” he asked.
I explained that I had just moved to St. Ives that afternoon, and that I was a teacher in Swavesey. He laughed, and then asked how long I was going to be in St. Ives for.
I told him I was going to be around for at least a year, which seemed to make him happy.
The lights came on at this point though, and suddenly everyone pushed for the door. Victoria came up behind me, and we left the bar in our group of four. I lost sight of my sexy man, unfortunately. BOO!

Once outside, we stood around in the alley with a bunch of other bar goers, talking and figuring out what we wanted to do next. There are clubs in the area that open from 2 – 6, however I think both Victoria and Roland were tired, so we decided to grab some food and then head home. I spotted the sexy man again, as they were discussing where to eat. He was standing on the opposite side of the alley, and he smiled at me. I winked at him, and he beckoned for me to come over to him. I walked over, and we chatted a bit. He asked me how old I was, so I told him I was 23. I went to ask him in return, but one of his friends came up and told me I was “hot”. Then the friend asked if I was into “threeways”. I was offended, and shouted “NO! What kind of girl do you think I am?”
I turned to walk away, totally disgusted. However, Tom (as I had found out his name by this point) touched my arm and told me not to judge him on his friends’ behaviour. I laughed, and told him we couldn’t be responsible for our friends’ drunken behaviour, so of course I wasn’t judging him.
Then he asked if he could get my phone number, because he’d like to call me some time.
“Really?!” I asked.
“Yah, for sure!” he said. “I’d like to ring you next weekend, if you’d give me your number!”
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, handing it to me. It was an Ericsson similar to mine, but an older model, so I knew how to use it. I added myself as a contact, and told him that in case I put the number in wrong, I had put my full name down so that he could search and add me on Facebook to get my number again. I think I put the right number though, so I hope he does call. He asked for my phone, and entered his number as well; If I don’t hear from him in a weeks time, I might be ballsy enough to text his phone. We’ll see! I hope he makes the first move though, as I definitely hate doing that. It’s so awkward! But he’s so HOT…and it was SUCH an ego boost to have been able to get the ONE guy I’d found attractive at the bar to ask for my number! Score one for Krista!!!! Once we’d exchanged numbers, and chatted a bit more, both my new friends and his friends were eager to be off, so we parted ways.

We went to a place that was full of other drunken people, which was serving American food. I was desperate for a poutine, but since those are unheard of hear I ordered a burger and fries, as well as a can of diet Coke. The fries (oops, chips) were decent enough, as was the burger. The whole thing cost me only 3 pounds, so I was pretty pleased with that. I shoveled it all down quite quickly, to the amazement of Roland and Paulo. Then I gulped down the pop, which lead to a rather loud burp. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth, saying I was sorry. The boys laughed and laughed, saying that Canadian girls were such “ladies”. Seems I’ve given Canada a good name already….not!

Walking back to the car, Victoria took me aside and told me that Paulo had been sad when he’d seen me talking to Tom; apparently he had a bit of a crush on me. I cursed to myself, unsure of what it was about me that endeared me to nearly EVERYONE! Paulo was nice enough, and certainly good looking, but he doesn’t do it for me. He reminds me a lot of that one guy Caily dated…the guy she brought to Lindsey’s reception. Jay? I believe that was his name. He’s Polish, and his English isn’t great either. Often while talking to me he asked me for the words he was searching for, to finish his sentences. Again, this is not a big deal, and really doesn’t factor into my not liking him. I’m not into him because he seems like he’d be one of those guys that falls hard for you, and then becomes a bit of a jealous rage-a-holic. I don’t like to make snap judgments of people, but that’s definitely the vibe I get from him. I will try to keep that on the friend level. It was hard though, as he also tried to get into bed with me. However, I snuggled under my covers, and feigned passing out. Eventually he stopped trying to talk to me, and fell asleep himself. I’m a bit worried at what Victoria and Roland will think, since he did sleep in my bed…however, I know that nothing happened, nor ever would, and will easily explain that to them, should they ask. However, I think Paulo is enough of a gentleman that he’ll just tell them the truth.

So now it is Saturday morning, and I’m writing this as I wait to have a shower. I had a lot of fun last night, and am glad I live where I do. I think we will get along well, all of us. Tonight we might go into Cambridge for a night on the town; we shall see!

Cheers!

On My First Visit To London

2008-08-28T12:22:00.000-07:00

If I've learned anything over the past few days, it's that London really is the most expensive city in the world. They literally charge you for everything, right down to your bodily fluids. Yes, they charge you to pee. 30 pence, to be exact, if you have to go at the train station. Outrageous! Anyways, I suppose I will try to start at the beginning!

Tuesday morning, I woke up early so that I could go to SVC and meet with the second head of English. She was a very nice woman, who was very bubbly and energetic, and eager to get me settled and started. I think I will have a fairly solid support base at the school. They are all aware that I'm Canadian, and therefore not totally comfortable with the British curriculum. They're also very flexible, in that they constantly are telling me I have complete freedom with how I teach, as long as I meet the objectives. Definitely a plus. I also found out that the school will provide me with a laptop! Not too bad at all, eh? I don't think I get to take it home or anything, nor would I, but it still is a great help to be able to have my OWN laptop to do school work on. Every classroom also comes with one of those new-fangled projector boards. They are much more useful than those ancient projectors that we still use too much in Ontario. Now I don't have to worry about making overheads, which I usually dread (its so easy to melt the plastic when you do the photocopy wrong).

After about an hour at the school, I walked back to the B&B, and packed for my trip to London. I wasn't sure what to bring, so I brought a bit of everything, in the hopes that I could mix and match to make outfits that worked.

I had to take a county bus from Swavesey to Cambridge, which was ridiculously cheap and a very nice ride. I got to see a few of the area villages, all of which are equally quaint and cute. I wasn't nervous at all this time, since it felt like I'd just done the trip, in the other order. I knew where I had to go this time, so things were slightly more familiar.

However, once I arrived in London, things really started to go downhill for me. My first impression of London was not good, not good at all.

So I got off the train, and then headed out of King's Cross, with the intention of getting a cab to take me to the accommodations that Dream had arranged. I had, naively, written down the name of the Hotel, but not the actual address or phone number. I stupidly assumed that the cab drivers would know all the hotels in London. I honestly cannot explain where that stupidity came from, because if I tried to think of every hotel in Toronto I couldn't do it either...so why would ANYONE be able to do it in London, which is bigger? So dumb of me!

Anyways, I get in the line for the taxis, and eventually am ushered into one. The cab driver asks me where I want to go, and I tell him the Vandon House. He stares straight ahead, with this stupid look on his face, like he has no idea what I'm saying.
"Where?" he asks.
I start to panic, immediately.
"Um...the Vandon House Hotel? I think it's on Vandon Street..."
"Are you sure it's in London, never heard of it..."
"Yah...positive...." I say.
He goes on his CB, and asks dispatch to call him back after searching for the hotel name in the directory. They call his cell phone, for which he has a blue tooth earpiece. I can't hear anything from the other side, only him as he keeps repeating "Vandon", spelling it out letter by letter.
He finally turns to me, after an agonizing few minutes, and informs me that dispatch cannot find the hotel in directory, and if it's not there, it must not exist.
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
"It does exist, I have an e-mail with the address..."
"Yah well you should have brought that, huh miss?" he asks me, snarkily.
"Well I didn't think it'd be a big deal...." I reply.
He talks to someone a bit more on his phone, asking them to check Google Earth, or Google Maps. However, apparently they don't know how to work the Internet, because they also come back with nothing. Meanwhile, I notice the money is slowly going up. I start to get annoyed, not wanting to pay to SIT in a cab, while the cabby haggles with me over whether or not a place exists.
Finally he turns to me, as cold as ice, and says "I don't know what to tell you...it just doesn't exist. The address is not online, it's not in the phonebook, not even the cops could find it now..."
My eyes start to tear up, as I start worrying about all the ways I could have been scammed. I start thinking the whole teaching job was a total scam, and that they just wanted to get my....my what?! I don't have any MONEY, ha ha ha! Anyways, let's not detract from how scared I was...I was terrified. I was sitting in a cab, with literally no idea of where to go.
"You owe me 5 quid though," the cab driver says to me.
My jaw literally drops.
"What? For what?!" I ask him.
"For wasting my time," he says.
I start to really cry now, totally frustrated that this asshole a) told me my destination didn't exist and then b) wants to suck money out of me for NOTHING.
He locks the doors, and refuses to let me leave until I pay him the 5 pounds. I show it through the hole in the divider at him, and jump out of the cab, yelling "Thanks for nothing, you asshole!"
"Go check the Internet in the station!" I hear him yell at me.
I'm still not sure why he told me to do that, but he did.

So I take his advice, against my best interest (I really didn't have much else to do), and walk into St. Pancras station. The building itself looks like a large gorgeous church on the outside, but on the inside it is the vision of modernity. It's the Eurostar Station (the train that takes you under the Channel to France), but it also has almost a mall-like atmosphere to it. There are cute cafe's and restaurants inside, a grocery store (Marks & Spencer), as well as high vaulted glass ceilings. It was lovely. I walk into one of the cafes, buy a coke, and ask where I can find wireless Internet access. The teenager behind the counter shrugs at me, and says he doesn't know. I leave, frustrated. However, outside there are a number of tables, and many people sitting at them have laptops! I boldly approach one table, and ask if he has wireless access.
"Yes of course!" he says.
Elated, I run into the center of the mall/station, plop myself flat on the floor, and dig around in my bags until I pull out my laptop. Turning it on, I quickly find I DO have Internet access. I thank my luck that it was available to me, because otherwise I'd have been screwed. So I checked my e-mail, wrote down the address, and hopping into another cab. This fellow took me where I wanted to go, thank gawd.

When I got to the hotel, I was less than impressed. Based on North American standards, the hotel was really more of a boarding house, and it wasn't the classiest place. My room left much to be desired, as the pictures on Facebook will show. It was small, like a dorm room, with a single bed, a wardrobe, a small ancient TV, and a sink. No toilet, no shower, just a sink. I cringed, and wondered how I was going to survive. I also found out that to use the Internet, I would have to pay a pound per half hour. That's basically two dollars Canadian for half an hour. What a ridiculous markup! I paid it, anyways, because I had so many people I wanted to talk to. I spent two hours on it, which went by far too fast! After it timed out, I decided I was hungry, so I decided to venture outside alone. I walked up to the first pub I saw, and noticed a tall fellow also reading the outdoor menu. I didn't mind what was on it, but noticed the pub was full, so there was no sense in looking. Unsure of where else to try, I decided to go back to the hotel to ask the receptionist. When I got into the hotel again, I saw the fellow again, and decided to see if he was part of Dream as well! Turns out he was, so we decided to forego eating alone, and join each other. Darren, which I soon discovered was his name, and I went to a lovely little pub (see picture) and had a delicious meal! After, he walked with me to Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Parliament, and the London Eye. It was a nice walk, and seeing London lit up at night really won it a little more respect in my eyes. It really is a breathtakingly beautiful city.

The next morning, I met Darren and his roomie Andrew (a fellow Canuck, from London) for breakfast. We spent the remainder of the day attending a boring seminar/meeting about teaching in England, and about how to get ourselves paid. It was fairly informative, but I found that most of the stuff was kind of common sense. Besides, they provided us with a booklet that explained everything, so hashing it out repeatedly really got on my nerves. I was overjoyed when the day ended, and we headed to a pub for free drinks and dinner.

At dinner, I met the other Canadians, and we all bonded and had a lovely time getting drunk. Hilariously enough, it was the group of Canadians that ended up staying at the pub the longest, just drinking and chatting till our hearts content. We really are a lovely, drunken people. Gotta love that. One of the Brits stayed with us though, the guy that was at my interview in Toronto in May. Wayne. He is by far the most dreamy person I have seen yet! I was staring at him ALL DAY! I tried ti work up the courage to talk to him, but I couldn't do it until I was tipsy. How sad, eh? Anyways, apparently I gushed to everyone how I had a crush on Wayne, so this one girl, Karen, went up to him and chatted him up, saying that "a lot of girls" thought he was very attractive, or something. After she had that conversatin with him, I kept noticing him giving me sneaking glances. I wasn't sure what to make of them! I just smiled coyly back at him. We tried to convince him to come out to the clubs with us, but he had to work the next morning, so he bailed after we left the pub. I was sad! However, Karen told me that British guys are not as straightforward as Canadian men, and she said she'd seen him shooting me glances, and said that was how British guys tried to show they were interested, or something. I complained about how stupid that was, as I'd have "loved to shag" Wayne. Oh drunk me, always a classy lady. Ha ha ha! Anways, after Wayne left we all drunkenly stumbled home. This was at about 9:30 pm. London gets bizarrely dead at night, unless you're on the Thames, so we didn't run into too many people. We were going to go to a club, but decided to just stay in a room and drink beers all night. It was very much like being back in University, drinking in a dorm room. Regardless, it was very fun, and I enjoyed the company a lot! However, it was slightly awkward, as one of the guys, Andrew (Darren's roomie) was clearly in LOVE with me. As he got drunker and drunker, he got more and more ballsy and vocal about his admiration of me. It was kind of cute, but at the same time it was almost too much. He started gushing about how he'd been captivated by me since we'd met at Breakfast, and that he'd been sneaking looks at me all day, cuz I was so hot. He went on to gush about how "cool" and "fun" I am, and that I'm so much different than other girls, because I am "real". What is that??!?! Anyways, he followed me to my room, and tried to get into bed with me, but I wasn't feeling him at all....I think we all know that I still have feelings for M, and I really don't want to fuck that up, even though he'd never find out. It's just not worth it. Besides, I am not interested in Andrew at all. At all. Not for me. Still, made for an awkward situation, cuz even in the morning he was still in love with me....oh well! I won't see him a whole lot now, so he'll get over it.

This morning, the Canadians stuck together again, on making our way back to our prospective towns. As it turns out, most of the people I befriended are teaching near me, so we all exchanged e-mails and Facebooks, and agreed to keep in touch. You can never give up Canadian companionship, because we just GET each other, you know? We can share the same jokes, and all that.

The trip home was uneventful. I took the Cambridge Express, and then bought a Day Trip pass for the bus ride home. I stopped in Bar Hill, at the Tesco, on the way back to Swavesey. I had to pick up a duvet cover, some sheets, a cell phone, a blow dryer, a razor (I left it at home, but brought the blades...stupidly enough), and some towels. It was kind of nice to go shopping for ME again....I liked it. Was a good feeling. Buying a phone was interesting to. I walked up to one I liked, said I wanted it, and was handed a box. Easy as that. I activated it, and was ready to roll.

When I got back to Swavesey, I dropped off my stuff, and hopped another bus to St. Ives, to view that second room. I had a quick look at it, decided I liked it much more than the room in Willingham, and decided to take it instead. I'll be living with a couple, a man and a woman my age, a 23 year old guy, and possibly another 24 year old guy. I just liked the prospect of having people my own AGE around; that's instant friends!! It was also cleaner, my room was nicer (its purple!), and St. Ives is AMAZING! It's so absolutely gorgeous, I can't believe it. I will take pictures on the weekend, for sure. It's just....amazing.

I e-mailed Henry as soon as I got home, to tell him I was unfortunately backing out. I invented a bit of a lie, because I felt bad, but that's that. I !didn't sign anything, so I'm not breaking any contracts or laws, just perhaps being a slight asshole. Oh well. I'll never see him again, so who cares, right?

I move into the place in St. Ives tomorrow. I am excited, and can't wait to get settled. Should be fun!

More later!

Cheers

On The Past Few Days: This Is A Long One!

2008-08-26T08:36:00.000-07:00

August 24, 2008

So I’m initially writing this in WordPerfect, because I don’t have internet access at the Bed and Breakfast in Swavesey (I found out it’s pronounced Swa-veh-say, after saying it Swa-ves-sey to the cab driver)....at least not at the moment. The woman who runs the B&B is on holiday, and no one is really around for me to ask.

Getting here was easier than I had thought. I took the shuttle to Gatwick Airport, from my hotel, and was able to easily find out where I had to go to catch a train to London. I couldn’t get one directly to Kings Cross (the main station) in London, but the sales lady informed me that I could take the underground from London Bridge to Kings Cross. It cost me 9 pounds to get the train to London Bridge, which I thought was decent enough. It took about 30 minutes, so the journey went by quite fast. Unfortunately, I had to stand the entire time...for a train coming directly out of an airport, you’d think they’d have wider aisles in the train, but they didn’t. I couldn’t fit my suitcase down the aisles, so I had to stand in the doorway of the train. It was a bit annoying, and embarrassing, because it made me look glaringly like a foreigner. I wasn’t alone in looking stupid though, as two Americans were standing across from me as well, with absolutely no place to stand. (OOO I must interject here for a moment...I have the television on here as I write this - it only has 4 channels though, since it’s got through bunny ears - and have it on T4...and guess what is on?!?! FRIENDS! Its surprisingly VERY comforting to see my FAVOURITE show on the television here. Makes me feel less anxious).

Once I got to London Bridge, I followed the signs to the Underground. I found a tickets/assistance booth, and asked how I could get to Kings Cross. The man was quite friendly with me, and told me I had to buy a ticket and then use the North Terminal. I bought the ticket for 4 pounds, and went in the direction that he told me. I headed in that direction, and noticed it required me to get up a short flight of stairs. Looking down at my suitcase and other baggage, I wonder how in the HELL I was supposed to lug it all up the stairs. My suitcase is VERY heavy; I did, after all, have to pack my entire life into it. I approached the stairs with apprehension, and then turned and tried to walk up the stairs backwards, pulling my suitcase up step by step. This was a lot harder than I had assumed it would be. I got it up two steps, and was clearly struggling with it. My two carry-on bags were sliding down my shoulders, causing me to lose my balance, and stumble sideways. Frustrated and embarrassed, I righted myself, and tried to figure out my next move. Fortunately for me, a lovely British gentleman saw me struggling, and offered to carry my bag up the stairs for me. I gladly accepted his offer. At the top, I thanked him profusely, and he kindly said “Not a problem!” Next hurdle? In order to get to the different platforms, you have to put your ticket into a machine and then these gates will open for you. I walked over to the oversized turnstile, so that I could fit through with my baggage, and put my ticket in the slot. It sucked it up, but nothing happened. I started to panic, because I didn’t want to have to pay for a different ticket. A lady with a young boy came up behind me, and giggled.
“You’ve just got to pull the ticket out of the top, dear” she said, pointing.
I looked to where she was pointing, and noticed my ticket sticking out. Feeling embarrassed once again, I thanked her and pulled it out. The doors immediately swung open. I walked through, and hurried towards Platform one.

Again, in order to get there, there was a flight of stairs, this time going down. (Off topic...on Friends, it’s the episode where the girls learn to play poker. Joey just said the funniest line of the episode: “I fold like a cheap hooker who got hit in the stomach by a fat guy with sores on his face”. Ha ha! Had to interject!) I sized up the stairs, and decided I should be alright if I just pulled the suitcase down behind me. Bad idea. I got down a few stairs, and the suitcase started to gain momentum, being heavier than me, and crashed down to a small landing. I almost cried, I felt so frustrated. What kind of transit system doesn’t have RAMPS?! I looked around, and never once saw a ramp. How do people in wheelchairs get around these terminals?! Anyways, I was struggling to pick up and organize my bags, when the same gentleman who’d helped me up the stairs earlier came up to me.
“I hate to see you struggle,” he said. “Would you like me to help you?”
“Oh yes please, if its not too much trouble!” I gushed.
He went to grab the handle of my bag, which had broken in the fall.
“I may have broke the handle...” I said.
He laughed, “I believe you have! It’s an awful long way to come to break a bag!”
He must have noticed either my accent of the Canadian flag on my bag, or perhaps my bumbling stupidity and awkwardness had made it all too obvious that I wasn’t from England.
I laughed as well, and said “Yes well, I’m a klutz regardless of country...”
He picked up my bag, and carried it to the bottom of the stairs, then wished me well and took off for his own train.
I got on the underground, which came as soon as I got to the platform, and sat down as soon as I got on. I was sweaty and disgusting, and totally flustered. It took about 10 minutes to get to Kings Cross.

Once in Kings Cross, it was easy to see where I had to go. I got in line for ticket sales again, and bought a train ticket to Cambridge. The man told me to hurry to platform 7, and that I might be able to catch the 11:45 train. I rushed out, but found I had missed it. I walked back to the board with all the train times, and looked out for the next time to Cambridge. I saw that one was leaving platform 9b at 12:15, so I decided to go find the platform. It was a bit of a walk (well actually not too far, but it felt like forever lugging my extremely heavy baggage), but luckily no stairs this time. Again I had to go through some gates, which sucked in my ticket and then spit it back out and let me in. I hurried quickly over to the train, and got on. I didn’t want to have to stand this time. I grabbed the first available seat, pulling all my baggage around me. Finally sitting, I was able to relax a bit. I had my ticket out, in case anyone came round to check it, however no one ever did. In fact, at no one point did anyone PERSONALLY check any of my tickets...I slid them into the machines to get past the gates, but that was it. It seemed a bit weird! Ah well! I got on the train at around 12:00, so I had some ten minutes to pass just waiting. I spent most of that time just watching and listening to people. A very tall, well dressed man got on and sat opposite the aisle from me. He looked a few years older than me, and rather well to do. He pulled out a Blackberry Curve, and was texting on it most of the train ride. Just as the train took off, it jolted rather hard, and my suitcase tipped over, hitting him on the legs.
“Oh gawd, I am SO sorry!” I said to him.
He laughed, and up righted my suitcase saying, “It’s quite alright! Bit startling though, all I saw was a big Canada flag come flying at me!”
He was referring to the bag tag I have on my suitcase, courtesy of Sheena! It’s just a large Canadian flag.
“I’m so sorry, I’ll hold onto it better!” I said back to him.
“Not a problem,” he said, smiling.

Embarrassed, I turned to the window, and steadfastly stared out it. This trip was a tad longer than my first train ride of the day. It left at 12:15 and got to Cambridge at 1. It was a nice trip though, mostly through the country and a few other small villages. When it pulled into Cambridge station, I noticed it was nothing more than a single platform with a few vendors on the outside. Nothing special, that’s for sure. I was, however, dying of thirst, so I walked up to one of the vendors and noticed he had a bottle of Lemonade on display. I asked him for a bottle of Lemonade, pointing to it, but he seemed really confused. He went to the fridge, and pulled out a Sprite.
“Is this what you want?” he asked.
Not wanting to be a bother, I said “Yep, that’ll do!” and passed over the 1.25 it was worth.
Lesson learned: if you want Lemonade, try asking for Lemon juice instead, or perhaps just plain Lemon. The man clearly had no idea what I meant by Lemonade.

I walked outside the station, and saw that there was a place to line up to get a cab. I forget what they call lining up over here....something that starts with a Q....sounds like the letter...but I know it’s not spelt that way. Anyways, I got in the line, and in less than a minute I had a cab in front of me. It was some make of Ford I’d never seen before, but it was nice and spacious, and brand new. A cute little old man got out and came round to the trunk to help me throw in my stuff.

“Where you ‘eaded?” he asked (They don’t pronounce their H’s very much here, hence the accent).
“Is it possible to get a cab to take me to Swavesy?” I asked (pronouncing it the wrong way).
He looked at me, totally puzzled. I started to panic again, unsure of the pronunciation.
“Um....Swavesey? Between here and St. Ives? I’m staying in a Bed and Breakfast there....” I said nervously.
“Ohhhhhh! Swa-ves-sey!” he said. “Of course I can take you there!”
“Great, thanks!” I said, relieved.
I climb into the back seat (I had sat in the front seat my other two cab rides, and had gotten confused looks from the drivers, so I’m assuming people don’t sit up front in England, like they do in Canada), and made myself comfortable.
Driving through Cambridge was a real treat. It was ABSOLUTELY beautiful...to date the most beautiful place I’ve ever been in my life. Everything was so OLD, and beautiful. The streets were quite narrow, and everywhere I looked were ancient looking buildings and churches. It was also ridiculously clean, compared to the brief glimpse I had gotten of London (which was very brief indeed). We stopped at a set of lights at one point, beside a beautiful little church. I was looking at it in wonder, and decided to take a picture (which I did). We also drove past the University (one of a few in the city, I believe), and I caught sight of an utterly FANTASTIC looking old building. I am going to make taking a trip to Cambridge a priority VERY soon, as I would absolutely adore having a closer look around.

The drive to Swavesey took about 10 or 15 minutes; it isn’t far at ALL! It cost me 15.60 to get from the station in Cambridge to the B & B, which is good to know! Not as much as I thought it would be....though if you convert it to Canadian dollars...YIKES. But...lets not think that way. As the cabby drove away, I walked up the driveway to what I thought was the front door. I tried to open it, but found it was locked. Odd. I saw a doorbell, so I rang it. Nothing. I stood there for about 5 minutes, unsure of what to do, then rang the bell again. Still nothing. I turned around, to face the road, and pondered what to do now. A million thoughts ran through my head, one of them being that I had been swindled of 150 pounds (which I had wired over as a money order to secure the room). Almost about to cry, I noticed a car slowing down, and then it turned into the driveway. A young blonde woman waved at me, and I felt relieved. She obviously was expecting me to be there.
“Oi, have you been waiting long?!” she asked, as she got out of her car.
“Oh no, I just got here about 5 minutes ago....I’m a tad earlier than I said I was going to be, so don’t feel bad about my waiting!” I replied.
“Righto! Well, if you want to walk over to that door over there” she said, pointing to a door I had noticed before, “ I will go in and round and let you into your room!”
I nodded agreement, and went over to where she had pointed, waiting patiently. A few moments later she came and let me in.
“Right, so Karen, who I assume you’d been corresponding with previously, is actually on a holiday this weekend, so she asked me to come round to let you in! She’s left a note for you on the table, and I can show you around.”
I nodded, and entered the small hallway. There was a table in the middle, with a chair at each end, a tiny menu resting against the wall, and a note addressed to me in the middle.
“This portion of the place is yours alone. All the rooms are self contained, and this door” she said, pointing to a door at the end of the hall, “is locked from the other side.”
She opened a door on the left and handed me a key, “This is your room, it has its own bathroom through the other side. There’s the telly on the wall there, and outlets all round....”
I smiled, nodded, and made small talk with her, trying to be bubbly and friendly. She asked me what I was doing in the area, and I told her I was going to be teaching at the Village College. She laughed, saying she had went there as a kid. Then she asked me what I was going to be doing for dinner, since Karen wouldn’t be around to help me find something to eat. I wasn’t quite sure, so I asked her if there was a grocery store around that I could go to.
“Ooh, unfortunately no. It’s such a small isolated village, there’s not actual a grocery shop here!” she said.
“What about a convenience store? I could surely pick up SOMETHING to tide me over for tonight...”
“Well, it being Sunday, most things are closed...but how about I take you in my car, and we check?”
“Really? Do you mind? I don’t want to be a bother!” I said.
“Oh my no! I couldn’t possibly leave you here with NOTHING! I would feel awful! I can drive you!” she said.
So we hopped into her car, and she drove me to the shop, which was unfortunately closed. The whole time, she was quite chatty and friendly, so I made sure to be chatty and friendly back. She was very pretty! I don’t know what people were saying, telling me British girls were ugly, because she certainly is not!
“Oh dear, they’re closed!” she said. “Well, I know where I can take you, so don’t fret!”
“Okay, as long as you don’t mind!” I replied.
“Oh no, its no problem at all! I will take you to the Tesco in Bar Hill...it’s 5 minutes away!”
“Oh geez...I can give you gas money!” I told her.
“No, no! Think nothing of it! It’s the least I can do to help you feel settled!”
We chatted the rest of the car ride there. Once we got to the Tesco, she called her Mom to tell her she’d be late, as she was taking me to the store. I could hear her Mom on the other side tell her to invite me to dinner, and she did. They were having chili, I think she said. I politely declined, but thought it was quite nice of them to offer; I am, after all, a complete stranger!!! We went into the store, and I asked Mel how old she was. Turns out she is exactly the same age as me (23, turning 24 in October). We walked around the store, picking out various things, as we talked about how she had been out drinking the night before, and was still feeling a bit off. It was nice to talk to someone my own age, about things that were rather universal! I picked up some juice, two nectarines, a bag of chips (crisps?), a bag of coussants, and a pasta salad. Nothing special, but hopefully enough to tide me over for the time being. She dropped me off, and gave me her number, telling me to give her a call if I wanted to get a tour of Cambridge, or just to hang out with people my own age. I thanked her profusely, and went back into my room to settle in for awhile.

I plan on going for a walk in a few moments, just to see the village, and perhaps walk to the school. Karen, the owner lady, just got home and came to see me. She’s a cute lady, I’d guess in her late 30s or early 40s. She asked me what I was doing in the area, and when I told her I was teaching at the Village College, she said her daughter was starting there in the fall. Interesting! When I asked her about a phone, she seemed surprised that I’d want one. I’m thinking people come here to get away from the world...and just relax, and have no use for a phone. She said I could use the house phone though, so I may try to use that tomorrow. If a phone had been in my room, I would have used it today to call some people, but seeing as I’ll be using her home phone, I won’t bother her much now about using it tonight. I’m now a bit nervous about how I will get around, since this place really is horribly isolated. I should have written down more information. Hopefully she will let me use her internet as well...as I will need to check some things.....

Ah well. For the moment, I will occupy myself without the luxuries of technology. The room itself is gorgeous, so its not so bad. I’m off for a walk now though. I will post the pictures on Facebook, once I get internet access (as well as posting this entry), which will probably be Tuesday when I have to return to London.

Cheers!

August 26, 2008 10:30am

Still internet-less for the time being. I’m currently sitting outside, typing on a lovely little wooden table that Karen has set up. Since none of the windows seem to have screens in there in this country, I was able to toss my power supply cable out the window, to provide the power to run this old beast of a laptop. It seems that my stupid idea of leaving my laptop running all the time, while plugged into the wall, has effectively rendered the battery useless on its own. It can only sustain itself for about half hour to forty-five minutes, before shutting off with little warning to me. This is just another reason why I am chomping at the bit to purchase a new laptop. This one has outrun it’s usefulness to me. I’ll gladly return it to my Dad, at Christmas. It’s still in fine working order, it’s just starting to get a little too old for my liking. The only bad thing about getting a new laptop over here is that I will have to try to inquire about purchasing different adaptors for North American use….I don’t relish the idea of having to purchase an adaptor for Canadian plugs when I return home….Oi!

I went to bed last night at ten, after watched the British version of Big Brother. They do it a bit differently than the Big Brother in the USA, in that there is no “Julie” character; the woman outside the house that the housemates correspond with. Instead, they’ve really adapted a much more “big brother”-ish persona (or personas), in that a disembodied voice, which is either a monotone male or female, will talk to the housemates and tell them their tasks. They don’t interact with any “people” other than the people directly in the house. I quite liked the British version, and found myself really getting into it. I’ll try to watch it when I can, should I get a place with television.

I slept fairly well last night. However, I was up at 4am, and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I laid there until 5 and then finally resolved to get up, proper. I made a cup of tea (a cuppa, as I’ve heard it called) and turned on the TV. Not much was on until 6am, and then I watched GMTV (Good Morning TV, on the ITV channel). It was informative enough, basically just like Canada AM, except a little less informal. Not as informal as CityTVs Breakfast Television though; they still had one of those wishy washy studios with the fake sunrise out the fake window. They ran through the different headlines in all the papers for the day, which was interesting. They also cut to an NBC story on Barack Obama choosing his new running mate, some old fart whose name I can’t recall. Joe something? I think the catch phrase they used was “Jobama”….but I could be wrong. It was something silly like that, at any rate. What I found interesting was that the British population would even care what was going on in the United States. I can understand Canada airing American stories (though we never use their broadcasts as directly as they do over here…they literally ripped the entire story off of NBC’s broadcast), because of our proximity to the US. However, why the Brits would care to air entire stories and segments of American news is quite beyond me. I guess that just goes to show that whatever happens to the US really is of importance to the rest of the world. It’s a bit unsettling really, to think that they’ve got so much control on the entire world. Ah well….if history teaches us anything, it’s that large empires rarely survive intact past a few centuries. Look at England! It’s not nearly the powerful nation that it once was; it cows to the United States now, just like the rest of the world. I think that China’s time will soon come, and the US will be left in the dust. But time will only tell on that one…

Breakfast was decent enough this morning. Karen brought me a nutty, granola cereal and milk to start, then some tea and a standard English breakfast, which is much like the standard Canadian breakfast. The only difference is instead of greasy hash browns, it was served with fried mushrooms and tomatoes. The bacon was also much thicker, and I wasn’t really a fan of it at all. I took a few bites out of it though, so that she didn’t think I was overly picky. The sausage tasted like Canadian sausage, which I never have been a fan of, but again I ate one of the two links. The eggs I asked for scrambled, as there really is no way to fuck that up; the other eggs can be ruined easily, and I hoped to avoid all that. I ate what I could, but couldn’t make my way through the entire thing. When I was sufficiently full, I sat back for a moment, and was hit with another wave of sadness and self pity; I started to miss home again.

I am missing home a lot more than I could be, since I literally have no contact with the outside world right now. Not having a phone or the internet is very difficult. I feel totally cut off, and I am not enjoying this solitary feeling. I am quite glad to be heading to London tomorrow, so that I can get in contact with people at home via MSN and Facebook, and also to interact with people. The Dream induction is Wednesday, for the entire day, and I am hoping to make a few acquaintances at the induction, as well as just enjoy the company of people like me; new arrivals to the country, who are about to embark on a strange journey.

I am a bit scared at the idea of starting my teaching career in a week. On Monday I go into the school for a staff meeting, and then a department meeting. Scary stuff! I have to make a call today, to one of the staff in the English department, to arrange to meet her at the school for a talk and tour. I hope to be able to meet with her on Friday, since the rest of my week is rather full. I also am going to call a fellow named Frank from St. Ives, and inquire about renting a room in his house. I’ve talked to him in e-mail, and he seems to be the friendliest out of all the people I’ve talked with. I am hoping that the room is up to my standards, as I would like to make this as easy as possible for myself. If I can accept the first room I see, that would be freaking awesome. However, I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

Well, I suppose I should get back inside. It’s a bit cold out, colder than I am used to for this time of year. It’d be better if the sun were shining, but we all know that the sun and England aren’t the best of mates. I will write later, to update on how the rest of my day went.

Cheers!

1:56 pm

So I made some calls, to check out some rooms. First I called Frank from St. Ives. When he answered the phone, it was clear to me I had woken up him. I immediately apologized, and suggested perhaps that I call back later. It was obvious that he was likely hung-over, and he admitted to having been out too late the previous night. I apologized again for waking him.
“No, no…I need to get up anyways. Don’t worry about it,” he said.
I asked him when I could pop around to have a look. He seemed a little out of it still, and couldn’t really give me a solid answer on when he’d be around. Finally he said he would be home most of the day on Thursday, and that I should just call before popped in. I agreed to that, and hung up, feeling less than thrilled. Next, I called Henry in Willingham. Willingham is a county bus stop away from Swavesey, and not much bigger. However, I do recall him saying in one of his e-mails to me that there was a grocery store in the village/town, so that’s pretty much all I can ask for, given the present situation in Swavesey. Henry didn’t answer at the home number he provided, but he did answer his cell phone. When I introduced myself, he immediately clued into who I was, and seemed genuinely excited and happy to hear from me. He was very friendly, when asking when I was free to stop by for a look. I told him I was free Tuesday morning and unavailable until Thrusday afternoon.
“Well, what about today?” he asked.
“Ah, well I’d have come today, but I don’t have a car at the moment, and was just going to take the bus,” I said.
“Ah! Where are you staying?”
“In Swavesey, at a bed and breakfast,” I said.
“Oh that’s close, I can easily swing by and bring you around!”
I was quite relieved that he had made the offer, and willingly accepted. We planned for him to stop by around 4, and call the B&B if anything came up. So now I’m waiting around for him to come and get me in a few hours! I am secretly hoping I like it, so that I can end my search today. That would bring a lot of comfort to me. I’m still going to try bringing my laptop, to see if I can perhaps steal some wireless for a few moments.

While I was killing time, I decided to go for a walk around town again. I headed in the opposite direction that I went yesterday, out of town towards Over. There wasn’t a lot to see, except for a really old and awesome looking church. I believe its called St. Andrews…but I can’t remember, and I don’t have the internet to check to be certain. Anyways, it looked quite old, and while not the largest church I’ve ever seen (I saw much larger during my drive through of Cambridge), it was certainly the oldest and most impressive (considering the historical value of it). I walked up as near as I dared, but heard some dogs barking somewhere, and got scared. I would have liked to have walked around it, just on the outside, but I couldn’t work up the courage. Instead I walked around the graveyard outside of it. Some of the gravestones were so old the words had been weathered right off of them. They were also very skinny, which was yet another sign of severe weathering. I tried to read some of the really old ones, but the oldest I could see was 1804. Regardless, that seems pretty old to me! I mean, considering Canada wasn’t even a COUNTRY at the time….pretty cool beans. COOL BEANS! Cool beans. The trees in the cemetery were also impressive. They were very fat, which meant they too were very old. I took a picture of one of the larger ones, but you can’t really get the right impression of the size if you’re not there. I’d have taken a picture next to it to show you, but that was pretty much impossible seeing as I was the only person around.

After walking through the graveyard, I decided to try and find the footpath to the Fen Drayton nature reserve. I walked back to the B&B, and then went down the road that went behind it. Just a short walk away, I saw a sign pointing me towards the footpath, so I followed it. It was just a gravel road, wide enough for one car to get through easily. It wound easily through the countryside, with wild green bush surrounding it on both sides. Every now and again a break would come in the brush, where I would see a gate that lead onto a field. Most of the fields were empty, though two contained some sheep. I stopped to take a picture of these fields as well, since they seemed to me to be the picture of Britain. After walking for about twenty minutes, I started to wonder when I would ever reach the Fens, but finally I saw a blue patch between the brush, and realized it was a pond. Smiling at having finally reached my destination, I hurried my pace to get their quicker. I noticed another gate, and walked over to it. It was locked, so I hopped the fence, to get closer to the pond. I saw that it was full of swans! I took a few pictures, but since I was too far away, they didn’t look as impressive on camera as they did in person. I hopped back over the fence, and onto the path. Continuing on, I stopped at a few other gates, hopped them all, and took more pictures of Mow Fen (as I soon found the pond was called).

Eventually the path came to a fork, complete with a signpost directing me of the paths I could take. I decided to follow the path towards the Great River Ouse. I knew from my research that that’s the river that flows through St. Ives, so I figured I’d see just how “great” it was. This time the fence had a plank to help you hop it, so I walked over, and started my way down the path. The path here was mostly just patted down grass, instead of the gravel of the main path. Wildflowers and marshland plants grew up all along the side of the grass path, and a small crick ran along the left. The crick was full of water lilies, cat tails, and a bunch of other plants I couldn’t hope to know the names of. I found the walk to be very idyllic and quaint. I had to keep reminding myself of where I was. The very history of the land itself put me in awe. I couldn’t stop thinking about how people centuries ago could have been walking through the very field I was walking now.

It was fairly warm out, but not hot, because the sky was clouded over with dark grey clouds. I wasn’t afraid of rain though, as the clouds didn’t look threatening, and the sun poked out every now and again to remind me of its presence. I had worn a hoody sweater, but quickly found I was too hot, so I slipped it off and put it in my purse (if you know me you’re already aware that I have MANY large purses…large enough to hold a sweater. Good ol’ Roots leather bags!). It was also quite windy out, and my hair was constantly whipping in my face. Whenever I tried to take a picture, I had to push it out from in front of my eyes, and position myself so that the wind didn’t whip it immediately back at me. I think I managed to get a few decent shots though, which I will post on Facebook. Shortly, I reached the River Ouse. I must admit some disappointment in the river; it wasn’t nearly as great as I had thought it would be. It was winding, with cows grazing on the bank opposite me. However, it wasn’t nearly as wide as the Thames in London, Ontario. In fact, it reminded me more of the Otter River in Tillsonburg! Ah well, I suppose we call that river the “Big” Otter, and it certainly isn’t big…so why can’t the Ouse be “Great”?

Walking back, I noticed two swans in the crick, which I had passed before but had failed to notice. I snapped a few shots of them, because they were so pretty! They also didn’t seem to care that I was so close. They didn’t get aggressive, like the swans I am used to in Canada. They just watched me closely, and went about their business.

The walk back was quicker than the walk there, perhaps because I knew where I was going this time. Now for some more time killing to take place….I’ll be back in a bit.

5:39pm

Well, I’ve just returned from Willingham, where I’ve viewed a mediocre house. It was a bit messy, but Henry apologized profusely for the mess, saying they’re in the process of moving in….so I kind of discounted that factor. That said, it was mostly a townhouse style place, and it wasn’t too bad at all. It smelled a little of curry, which was a good sign, as it meant they won’t mind me cooking up some curry. They also have a year old kitty; she’s a tiny little short haired tabby named Weeder. I had wished the cat would be long haired, but a cat’s a cat, and frankly I am quite glad to have the addition of a pet. I don’t know that I could live without a kitty around for an entire year. The room itself was of a fair size, though probably one of the biggest I’ve rented from, by far. It has a double bed, with a few shelves around the room. There is no closet, but it has one of those hanging rack things, which I would hang my clothes on. They also said they’d be bringing in some dressers etc. within the coming weeks, as Henry’s girlfriend, Sam, is currently in the process of moving in. I’d have my own bathroom in a short while, as they’re working on adding an en-suite to their own room. This works well for me, as I much prefer the idea of having my own bathroom, considering my stomach issues. There’s also a bathroom downstairs, which means that there should always be a bathroom available to me (again, I use the bathroom frequently…stomach issues…). I think I could do the room up nicely, to make it my own. I also had a decent enough feeling about Henry and Sam, they seemed quite friendly and laid back, and seem like people I could easily get along with. I didn’t foresee there being any problems. I factored in that I could do some cleaning myself, of the place, and that with a bit of a tidy up it wouldn’t be bad at all. The kitchen was a fair size, as was the dinning room. The backyard was also decent, though a bit overrun. However, that seems to be kind of the norm around here. I decided fairly soon that I would rather just settle for living there, because of the proximity to the school (I could bike to the College if need be), and the fact that it was on the bus route to Swavesey, it had a grocery store (a Co-op….I’m not sure if that’s good or bad?!), and three pubs. Henry said the population is about 8,000, which is about the size of Aylmer. He took me for a little drive around, and it seemed nice enough. It reminded me of a slightly larger Swavesey, at any rate; Very old, quaint, and tidy. They asked me a few questions, and I asked some in return, and in the end I decided to take a chance, and make the move. It just seemed the most convenient, as I am just eager to find a place to live…being homeless is quite nerve wracking, and while I feel perhaps I should have viewed a FEW other places…the need to just find a place to live overrode me though, so I accepted. I don’t think I will be unhappy in my decision, and should I be, I only have to give a months notice, and then move out. Henry is going to come pick me up Friday afternoon, between 4 and 5, and then the move will be official. At that point, I will be able to be online 24-7, as they’ve got wireless internet! HOLLA! I cannot wait to be connected to the world again. Being internet-less is really frustrating, as awful as that sounds.

They also have a spare room, aside from my own, in which the said I am more than welcome to have people come stay in. This was another plus to me, since it meant that my friends and family could come and actually stay in the house, should they want to, upon their arrival. I also discussed with them travelling (they told me I could fly out of an airport in Cambridge if I wanted to travel to Europe, instead of going all the way to London), buying a cell phone (they told me to get T-Mobile or Virgin, for better reception in the area), buying a new laptop (Henry has a friend who owns a shop), and finally about getting a doctor (there is one just down the street who is accepting patients). It all seemed to be easy, which is exactly what I am looking for.

However, I had a bit of a scare once I returned. I told Karen that I had found a place in Willingham, and she seemed a bit quiet on the subject. However, I had a phone message while I was out, from the 2nd in English at SVC. She gave me the message, and handed me her house phone, so that I could call the woman back. I did immediately, and was greeted by a very friendly and bubbly woman. We agreed to meet at 10am Tuesday morning, to look around the school, see the department, and my classroom. She also told me that she will show me all their resources, and that I am free to use them as I want. I think I will grab a few resources for the first week or so in all my classes, just so that I have a starting point. Once I get comfortable teaching, and with the students, I will start to add my own personal touch. I just think its almost impossible to start right off the bat with my own teaching. Anyways, after we had arranged to meet, I hung up and set the phone on the table in the hallway. A few moments later Karen came to collect it.
“I don’t mean to be nosy, but where in Willingham are you going to be living?” she asked.
“Oh…I can’t recall the name, let me check, I know I wrote it down,” I said, searching for the paper. “Ah…..[insert street name here].”
“Oh okay, that’s not bad,” she said. “It’s just that I worked in Willingham, as a real estate agent, for a few years…and it has a bit of a reputation. Again, I don’t mean to be nosy, but we [she motioned towards the house, and presumably her husband] thought it would be best to warn you. You see, it has a permanent population of…and we’re not supposed to call them this anymore…gypsies.”
I was unsure of what to say, because I was equally unsure of what being a gypsy meant. If I use my general knowledge of the term, I’m assuming that they’re rather questionable, sketchy people, who talk “white English ghetto” (with really poor sounding accents), and are known to be a bit shifty. I’m thinking like trailer trash people here.
“Oh, okay….” I said. “I will be sure to be careful!”
“Well, I just wouldn’t recommend walking around at night alone. You’d likely be fine during the day…I know that people who live in Willingham love it, and don’t have any problems, but the people in the surrounding villages and towns…well we wouldn’t live there…” she said.
A bit taken back, I was speechless again.
“I don’t mean to scare you, I guess we’re all just biased. It’s not a bad place to live, I am sure, but people around here would certainly not move there….I don’t know how to explain it…it sounds bad…” she said.
“Ah, well I kind of know what you’re talking about…” I said, thinking back to my thoughts about Aylmer, or Langton, or Norwich. I wouldn’t want to live in ANY of those places, because I just think of them as dirty. However, if I am rational about it, they really aren’t that much different from Tillsonburg, aside from perhaps their having larger populations of Mexican Mennonites or the Dutch. I’m going to, in my ignorance, equate these gypsies with the Mexicans and the Dutch. People can be biased and rude about different cultures; it’s been proven to me again and again throughout my life. I might be careful walking around at night, but I definitely won’t refuse moving to Willingham on account of a group of people living there.

I thanked her for her advice, and made sure to make her feel I truly did appreciate the warning. However, like I said, I’m not entirely sure I will take it to heart. I’m sure my Mom will read this and worry about me, but again, I ask you to be rational about it. I won’t discount a place based on village to village rivalry and “smack talk”. The moment something bad happens, I’ll be the first to leave. However, Henry told me that a cop lives next door, a widower across the way, and a single mother with two young children live next door. I’m not concerned.

Here’s to hoping that I can clean the place up, and make it like home!! Hope they don’t mind if I clean like a mother hen!

Hopefully I will be in London tomorrow with internet access, so that I may post all this!! It’s certainly going to make for a long read!!!

Cheers!

On Leaving

2008-08-23T11:06:00.000-07:00

So I'm in England now.... the flight was about as I expected it would be, long and boring. I got the seat in front of the fire escape in the middle of the plane, which meant I couldn't recline my chair. As a result, I couldn't get comfortable at all, and thus could not fall asleep. I nodded off a few times, but the majority of my time I spent feeling my energy levels drop while I struggled to get comfortable. Nothing worked though. I was doomed to be miserable from the start. As more and more time passed on the plane, and I felt myself getting further and further from home, it became increasingly hard for me to hold in my tears. I broke into sobbing fits every hour or so, as I thought about those I was leaving behind and the lack of people waiting for me upon arrival. I started to seriously doubt my decision, pondering the "rightness" of my choice. Is it supposed to hurt this bad? I'm not sure...all I DO know is that I increasingly wish I were not here. As I sit here now, it's 6:20pm England time (2:11pm Ontario time), I'm deathly tired, but I can't sleep because I am afraid to. I know that sounds scary, and in fact makes very little sense. But I am afraid to sleep, because I don't know where I am. I know I am going to wake up cold and alone, and at first I won't know where I am. I can already feel that feeling of panic rising up in my throat, and it brings tears to my eyes. I am so deathly afraid of climbing into that bed alone...I desperately wish I had someone to share it with me...

I am just so scared....

I know everyone expects me to be brave about this, and to enjoy the experience. However, I'm just having a really hard time doing that. I know a lot of people would trade positions with me, and I wish they would. I wish I could back out now, and come home...but I can't. I have to push through this panic, and try to accept it. I am hoping that once I get settled and make some friends, perhaps it won't be so bad. Have your fingers crossed for me as well...

So my last few days were great. Thursday I was supposed to go to the last day of this Teaching Shakespeare workshop,but I bailed on them in order to spend more time at home. I went out for coffee with M that afternoon; he had wanted to take me out the night before but I couldn't go on account of the stupid workshop. We had a great chat, and stayed in Coffee Culture for two and a half hours. Then we went to A&P, to grab some mix. When he dropped me off at my house, I asked him to come in, and then to stay to dinner. He happily agreed to stay. We had curry chicken. While it was good at the time, it definitely gave BOTH of us the 'rhea. Yum! That night Holly, Matt, Steph, SHeena, Meaghan, Christine, Paul and M came over to show me one last good night. It was a really good night, though somehow I got drunker than I wanted. M ended up staying the night with me, which is what I had wanted all along. We had another really great night together, just being really sweet and tender with each other. I had wanted to fall asleep clinging to him, but my drunkeness took over, and I passed out.

In the morning, a bunch of us went to Breakfast. M came, though he didn't eat, because he wasn't feeling well. We held hands under the table the entire time, while I rubbed his back and told him to feel better.

Then Ethan, M and I went to Rogers and rented "Hot Rod", since Christine and Paul told me I HAD to see it. It WAS rather funny, but very very random. I still laughed, and that was what I needed on my last day...

M and I spent the entire day together, before I had to leave and he had to go to work, and it was great. I didn't ever want him to leave, because when he left it would mean it was my time to go. It was so hard, when the time came that he had to go. We stood in the doorway, staring at each other silently for a minute. Then I grabbed him, burying my face onto his shoulders. He kissed the top of my head, and held me there, while I sobbed softly on him. I just couldn't not cry. All the regret about leaving him was starting to pile up, and it got to be too much for me to handle. I could do nothing but wish things were different; wish I wasn't going, or taht he could come....it just felt so profoundly wrong for it to be over. After about ten minues of us holding each other in the doorway, we exchanged a few soft kisses, and he left for work.

Soon after, right before I was about to get into the car to leave, I get a text from him.
"I'm not going to lie, I'm really going to miss you" he said.
"Me too. I don't want to go. I'm sorry I'm doing this. It sucks hard" I replied.
"Yah it does, but I am so happy for you. This is a great thing for you. You deserve to have fun. Just be safe, because it would break my heart if something happened to you" he said.
"I'll be safe. You stay away from crazy bitches. You deserve waay more than that" I replied.
"Thank you. You're the first girl that made me realize that. You're so sweet. I hope that it's not the end for us. If you meet Prince Charming over there, I will try not to get too hung up, because you deserve it"
"Aw hun, don't even worry about that. It's not over between us, eff that. I will be back befor eyou know it" I replied.
It went on like that for a bit, and all I could do was keep myself from balling my eyes out. I just REALLY liked this guy...we clicked, and he is everything I want in a guy...he's affectionate and sweet, and he's a man's man too. We're a perfect match. I know it sounds stupid to say that, but we really are. It's almost stupid how good we get on. I miss him so much, as stupid as that sounds. I can't stop thinking about him...and how I wish I had a phone here, so I could text him...or call him...but I can't. UGH, its so frustrating. I want to be with him, and it's not going to happen for awhlie. I can only hope that it really will pick up when I return. I will cross my fingers that some other girl doesn't realize what a catch he is....and he really is amazing....

But enough of that. I went for a walk today, trying to check out cell phones in the area. I was told by the front desk to go to Tesco, so I walked over. I took a picture of it, and it really reminded me of the Wallmart Superstore...cept this thing doesn't seem as effed, morally. Then again, what do I know? I went in, but they didn't have any smartphones, so I said eff that.

Then I came back to the hotel, and had them call me a cab, which I took to this really cute outdoor shopping carosel, to look at the company's own displays and stores. Only one store offered the Curve on a plan I cod get (12 month!). The cab rides were interesting, because it gave me first hand knowledge of how CRAZY the people around here drive...FAST AS HELL AND VERY RECKLESSLY! It's seriously creepy bad. They wipp around corners, and don't slow down for anyone. At one point I thought perhaps there were no speed limits, because everyong is going at different paces.

Well....I am nearly falling asleep on the keyboard...so I will end now, and perhaps finish this tomorrow. I may be absent on the internet for the next few days, depending on if the Bed and Breakfast has internet in every room. Fingers are crossed though.

Cheers,

On My Going Away Party

2008-08-19T16:29:00.000-07:00

So my Goodbye Party was a moderate success this weekend. Everyone that I wanted to be there was there, at least at some point! I even had a few surprises! For one thing, Britt and Candice came. I definitely did not expect them to show up, because I thought that they (well Britt at least) did not like me. I was very surprised and happy to see them! K also showed up, and I wasn't particularily nice to him. Neither were my friends. Rachelle, Holly and Christine all put him in his place, regarding his flippant treatment of me over the last few months. I wasn't necessarily intentially rude to him, as I was actually preoccupied with a much better person. M, to be exact. Increasingly I am coming to regret my previous decision of hanging out with K. Although, I must admit that if I hadn't tried dating K I would never have met M...so I do owe him some props in that regard. Rachelle was especially succint in making me realize that I have a history of making "bad decisions", and that K was just one in a long line of such decisions. Unfortunatly, I had to admit she was right. I don't have the greatest track record with me. Most of that I chalk up to my being overly nice and naieve about men. I often put up with shit, thinking that if I call the guys on their behaviour they'll just leave me. Go back and read some of the shit I wrote about my ordeals with K, and you will find it glaringly obvious that I made a multitude of excuses for his behaviour, and my lack of saying anything to make it better. A decent guy won't dump your ass if you air a grievance; only assholes will. I've really got to stop thinking that I have to walk on eggshells around guys, to keep them around. I don't, and it's stupid of me to think that I do. I don't think I would have to worry about that with M.

There's a lot of things I wouldn't have to worry about, if I were with M. He's so much like me, it's actually ridiculous. Every time he says something about himself I am shocked to find that I am the same way. It's acually eerie. Our personalities are a lot the same. Here's one example for you...if you REALLY know me, you should be aware of my rather annoying habit of saying "Sorry" for everything. If it's raining outside, and you're standing with me, I will apologize for the rain. If we're out eating dinner together, and something is wrong with your meal, I will apologize for THAT. I say sorry for literally ANYTHING that goes wrong when you are in my presence. Well, the other night I was with Trevor, and he was drunk while I was sober. For EVERY little thing that happened, he apologized profusely. I actually had to say (and I have NEVER said this to ANYONE, though it's always said to me) "Stop saying sorry!"
I immediatly had to laugh, because it was just too ironic.

Anyways, I hadn't intended to get to the topic of my growing admiration for M just yet...I wanted to discuss the goings on of my night.

So the night was going smashingly well. I was well on my way to being drunk, without being TOO drunk, and everyone was being sociable and fun. Then Zack showed up, and immediatly started to be rude to everyone. He didn't bring any booze, and started to try to sneakily steal other people's booze while they weren't looking. Then he started to grab the crotches of women at the party. Finally he grabbed the wrong crotch...he grabbed Hollys. Then he proceeded to flip the table, which contained everyone's booze, and empty beer bottles. I had people coming up to me from all sides, telling me I had to ask him to leave. I asked for the circumstances, and once I found out, I was livid. I tracked him down, and immediatly started to bitch him out. I was freaking out, to the n'th degree. I called him on every dirty thing he'd done since arriving, and pulled out no stops in letting him know exactly what I thought of him.
He cowed down to me instantly, trying to kiss my ass and pander to my nice side. I wasn't having it though. I wouldn't let him get out of it. Suddenly, I felt a circle forming around us, as people crowded around to hear me. I felt Tony immediately behind me, ready to back me up should Zack get billigernet. That scared him a little, I am sure, since Tony is not the kind of guy you want to mess with. Suddenly my emotions got the best of me, and I broke into tears.
"This is my FUCKING party, you asshole, and I shouldn't have to be worried about people cutting themselves on broken glass, or getting molested by a pervert! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE" I yelled at him, tears streaming out of my eyes.
I felt M touch my arm at this point, and I turned to him, burying my head in his shoulder. I hugged him, wiping my tears on his sweater, before storming into the cabin and turning on the shop vac. I angrily started to try and vaccuum up the shards of glass, tears streaming down my face still. I did it for a few moments, while M tried to softly get the vaccuum out of my hands. He finally succeeded, and I passed it to him, and then slumped into a nearby chair, sobbing softly. Someone, I can't remember who, came and took the the vaccuum from M, and he came to console me. Eventually I calmed down, and resolved not to let Zack's stupidity bother me for the rest of the night. We finally got him to leave, with more threats from Tony (merely his presence).

I spent the rest of the night sitting on M's lap, giving him sweet little pecs, as well as talking to my friend from work, Michael. Michael is gay, and probably the funniest person I have ever met. He was also an amazing person to be drunk with, because he got even funnier.

At one point, I don't remember when, I was standing up with my hoody pulled over my head. K was standing directly behind me, and I was talking to Michael. M came up to me, and all of a sudden all I wanted to do was kiss him. He slid his arm around my waist, and I cut off my conversation with Michael, turned to M and pulled my hood hover both of our heads, kissing him. He pulled back, a bit surprised.
"Are you doing this to make K jealous?" he asked.
"No. I am doing this because I want to kiss you more than anything right now" I said. I've never been more honest in my life. I just wanted to feel his hands on the small of my back, while I kissed him under my hoody.
We had what is probably the second most passionate kiss of my life (the first came later in the night), under the comfort of my hoody.
While we were kissing, Holly took the opportunity to rub it in K's face. I heard her walk up to K and ask "Who is that MAKING OUT over there?!?!" in a mock disgusted voice.
"It's M and Krista......" he replied, his voice dripping with jealousy.
M and I both heard it, and shared a brief giggle before resuming our makeout session.
"I'm outta here..." K said a few moments later.
And then he left. I couldn't have been happier.

I don't remember much of the rest of the night, although I do remember going into my tent with M, and having the most passionate kiss of my life in there. We had just finished having pretty great sex, and I turned to him and said "Kiss me."
He rolled onto his side, cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me so softly I thought I was going to die. It was that good. So I kissed him back, equally as soft. We kissed like that for what felt like half an hour. I don't know how long it was, but it was spectacular. It was just a really great, passionate, romantic kiss. It made me melt inside, and regret instantly my decision to go to England.

The following night we all went to see Pineapple Express in London. It was an hilarious movie! I highly recommend it to everyone! I wish I had spent more time with M though...so I invited him to come to Moxies for dinner with the Tills gang the next day, and he accepted.

The dinner was last night, and it went well. It was delicious, and was a great group outing. Afterwards, Holly, Matt, M and I decided to head back to my place to have a few bevy's. I opted out of drinking, since I had a workshop to attend and didn't want to be tired AND drunk. M, however, got very drunk. In his defence, he was only trying to make an awkward situation with Matt and Holly less awkward, by getting Matty really drunk....but he really only succeeded in making HIMSELF horribly drunk. It was absolutly adorable. He didn't want to stay inside, and insisted on going for a walk. So we went for a walk around the block. He could hardly walk a straight line, let alone even stand up straight, so I was holding his hand the entire time.
"I love that you're holding my hand," he said, "It feels so...natural."
I blushed, and giggled, unsure of how to respond. I was actually SO happy to hear him say that, because I felt the same way.
It started to rain at one point, and he insisted on taking off his shirt so that I could cover myself. It was adorably sweet, and I've never had anyone do that. We walked back to my house, him topless and me with his shirt on my head.

We went back inside, and sat on the couch for awhile. However, he got ansy about sitting in the hot house, and asked me to take him home. I agreed, so I drove him over to his place. However, once we got to his house, he made me pull over, and then took the keys out of the ignition.
"I just love spending time with you...come in for awhile!" he said.
"It's 12:30 at night, I am not comin in...your parents will think its all about hanky panky!" I said.
"Okay, fine. We'll hang out in your car!"
I laughed, and said that was fine, if that's what he wanted to do.
So we literally sat in my car, and talked for an hour. Him being drink was absolutly adorable, because he spoke whatever was on his mind.
He professed his anger at the fact that I was leaving in a few days, and that he was so glad that he got to know me.
"I don't usually hang out with girls every night...but I've seen you ever day since Thursday, and I don't even mind, and I wish I could have more..." he said.
I told him I felt the same way.
"I still can't believe I even have a chance with you. I had a crush on you the moment I met you...and I was so jealous of K. I kept thinkin 'Here's this girl with an AMAZING personality, and who is gorgeous to boot, and she's with K...a total asshole'. You have no idea how many times I wanted to punch him for the way he treated you!" he gushed.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I told him that I had had a crush on HIM since I met him, and that if he hadn't had a girlfriend when I first met him, I would have ditched my attempts at getting K, and would have focussed on him.
"WHAT?! Really!? I honestly didn't think I ever had a chance with you...it shocked me when you invited me out...." he said.
I assured him that he was, in fact, very attractive to me, and that I thought he was an amazingly nice guy.
"Yah well, you're the hottest girl to ever touch my weiner" he said.
I had a great laugh at this, and so did he.
Then he got serious, and told me that he hoped I had an amazing time in England, and that I deserved the best.
"You're going to go there, and you're going to get swept off your feet by some Prince or Lord or something, who's going to be rich, and drive an amazing car, and buy you amazing things...and he's going to love being with you, because you're just the sweetest, most amazing girl in the world, and you're absolutly beautiful to boot....and I can't even be mad, because you deserve it" he said.
It was honestly the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me, and all I wanted to say to him was that I don't want to meet a Prince over there, and that if I could have anything in the world it would be to have HIM....but I couldn't. Instead I told him that I wouldn't have time to meet guys in England, and that I wouldn't be looking.
"I don't even have a right to care," he said. "I shouldn't care, I don't care..."
"Clearly you do, and that's alright sweetie," I replied. I put a hand on his leg, and tried to give him my most...my...the look. I can't even name it.
He just kind of looked down, blushing, so I knew it was true.
Then I told him, again, how amazing he was, and that if I wasn't going to England I would date him in a second.
"Yah, well...you're going," he said.
"Well I don't want to..."
We didn't say anything for a minute. I think if I had been drunk as well, I would have spilled my heart out to him. I would have told him that I wish I could stick it out with him, and tell him how amazing I think he is, and how much I beat myself up every day now that I realize...how I wish I wasn't going.

We chatted some more, going from lighthearted to serious. Finally, he realized what time it was, and started to get out of the car.
"Wait!" I said.
He turned to look at me.
"I want a kiss first," I said coyly.
He grinned and leaned in for a kiss.
I kissed him gently on the lips once, pulling away slightly.
"One more," I said quietly, and kissed him again.
"And another," I said after that.
"Give me a good one now..." as I leaned in for one more great kiss. It was just like the one in the tent. He put his hands on my face, and held me there for a good 5 minutes or so. It was so tender, I melted again.
Finally he pulled away.
"One more..." he said this time.
He pecked me on the lips, then opened the door and got out.
"Bye hun!" I said, and pulled away.

I drove home, cursing my life and my luck. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him for weeks....and this weekend made it particularily bad. It's going to be so hard for me to leave...Thursday night I plan to stay up as late as I can, and I hope that he stays up with me. Saying goodbye to him is going to be rough, because I don't want to.

But then again, do I want to say it to anyone? No.

On Suspicions Being Confirmed

2008-08-15T11:08:00.000-07:00

So I hung out with M last night. Before you start jumping to conclusions, slow down. It wasn't a two-per date; Dane was there! Anyways, we went to Kelsey's and had some beers, while shooting the shit. It was cheap pitcher night, so there was quite a young crowd there; I knew most of the people in attendance. It was a pretty carefree, casual thing, with chit chatting and laughing. Holly and Matt stopped by briefly, to give me a parting gift and card. The card was so sweet, and I almost wanted to cry. Inside was some money, which went a long way in paying for all but 4 dollars of my new hair colour (THANK YOU MATT AND HOLLY! Love you guys! Mean it!). I'd be lying if I didn't say it took a bit of strength to hold in the tears! I managed it though, so all was well. They didn't stay long though, because they both had to work in the morning.

At one point during our stay at Kelsy's, M's phone rings. It's K's best bud, R. I guess M had invited him out for drinks, and he was just checking to see what the situation was. He must have asked who was in attendance thus far, because M listed off both Dane and I. A few minutes later he hung up, saying that R and some people were headed our way. Fine by me....

However, time passes, and an hour later they still hadn't shown up. We all were a bit miffed, but we didn't really think a lot of it. Since drinking at the restaurant can be pricey, we decided to go back to M's house and have some beers on his back patio. Once we get there, we find out from M's dad that R had stopped by looking for M, with a carload of people. This must have been just before the call. We pondered amongst ourselves why they never followed through on coming to the bar, when it suddenly dawned on me...it was highly likely that they didn't join us because I was in attendance. Chances are high that K was in the car with R, and at the mention of my presence, he likely balked at being in that awkward situation. Frankly, I am glad he didn't show up. It would have been very awkward indeed.

Anyways, I commented on my likely role in their inability to show up, which lead to a discussion of K and myself, and how the FUCK I ever ended up liking that ass-clown. I shook my head, and was at a loss of words. Then M dropped a bit of a bomb on me...

"So yah...last weekend at the bar, K came up to me and said that you made out with him outside. He wanted to 'warn' me..."
I stared at him, dumbfounded, for a moment.
"I KNEW he was going to do that, I KNEW it!" I said. "The moment I saw him when we came into the bar, I could tell he was pissed that I came with you...and I KNEW he would try to cause shit, just to see what he could get away with. I KNEW it...."
"So...you didn't?" M ventured tentatively. "I mean...I can't really care, I don't really care.....[I feel I must note that clearly he DID care somewhat...but anyways], but I definitely was like wtf when he told me...."
"Pfft...do you want the truth?! This is what happened....you know that first time we all went out for a smoke and he came out too? When you guys went back in, he held me back and asked me to kiss him. Then he basically made me kiss him on the lips...but it was not making out, and it was not something I willingly went for or took part in! HE tried to kiss ME...."
M shook his head, laughing.
"Honestly, I don't have any reason to lie to you...and that's the straight up truth," I said.
"Oh I believe you...that's like K, to do something like that," he replied.
"I can't believe he would go to you and say that...Well actually, I KNEW he was going to do something like that. I knew he'd try to put it on me...but the truth of the matter is he came on to me....and then after that I was so standoffish all night, because I just did not want ANY more drama...standoffish to you AND him, in case you didn't notice that..."
"I definitely noticed you get a little distant, but it makes sense now, "he said.
So we discussed the little white lie, and decided that K just wanted to cause trouble...what a little prick!
Then M told me that he had invited R and a bunch of people to come drinking with us that night, and that he had SPECIFICALLY requested that K not come, for the very reason of his knowing he'd cause shit. I feel I should mention now that NEITHER M nor myself has a problem with K. We just have a problem with the way he treats people, specifically girls, and more specifically me. It's just retarded. I don't understand what he hoped to gain by going to M and telling him that I'd "made out" with him outside...under M's very nose. It's not as if M and I are seriously dating, or anything of the sort. K knows as well as anyone else that I am England-bound in a week (two weeks at the time of the incident). Why he felt the need to cause shit is beyond me. I'm just going to chalk it up to his immaturity, and the fact that deep down he doesn't want anyone else to have me, in any capacity.

Anyways, we really only discussed the situation for about 20 minutes, and then it was off the table for the rest of the night. Dane left at around 11:30, so M and I just kinda sat around and shot the shit, while having a few more bevy's. It was a pretty solid night. Then he walked me home, and that's the end of that.

I still feel like an ass for trying to date K all those months ago...what a stupid waste of time THAT was...I would have been better served to pursue M. Ah well, perhaps it's best that I didn't, because if we had have dated, it would have made leaving that much harder. As it stands, leaving is going to be hard enough, but it won't be heart-wrenching; at least not romantically. Though it is unfortunate that I "meet" a genuine nice guy on the eve of my departure, that's life for ya.

Always a son-of-a-bitch.

Cheers.

On The Finishing Touches

2008-08-12T13:49:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I recieved my Great Britain Pounds, and I must admit they are nothing like I had imagined. They are so FAT! I mean, they are considerably bigger and wider than Canadian money. They are colourful, more colourful than American money, but not nearly as colourful as Canadian money. They also have pretty much all the same security features we have. I just can't get over the fatness of the bills! I tried to fit them into my wallet, and they simply would not fit! That is to say, they fit to a certain extent, but they folded over slightly at the tops...too wide! Makes me wonder if they make wallets bigger in England? I will definitely have to investigate that once I arrive.

I'm starting to get slightly nervous now, about the housing arrangement, or lack thereof. I have some appointments lined up, but I'm still afraid none of those will fall through. However, I keep reminding myself that once I get there it will be very easy to find a place; I will just look in the local newspapers, or perhaps wander around Swavesey or St. Ives, looking for "For Rent" signs. Or would they have "For Let" signs?! They do call renting "letting", after all. I just have to keep thinking positively, and hope that finding a decent, not overly expensive place to live won't be too hard. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

I worked one of my last shifts at Sobeys today. It made me want to kill myself, because this old bitch who has it out for me made me go get carts. If you've never worked in a grocery store, you don't know what a hassle it is to get carts. I don't think there is any time of the year that would be decent for getting carts. In the winter it'd be cold and snowy (and therefore hard to manouver), and in the summer its hot and sweaty. I came in fourty-five minutes later sweatingly like a man, and likely smelling like one too. I scowled at the old bat, as I wiped the sweat off my forehead. I was waiting for her to make some snarky comment about my red cheeks and damp body, but she just ignored me. It's probably for the better, since any comment from her would have recieved an even colder response from myself.

Anyways...at this point I've not nothing new to report, so I am going to call it quits now.

Cheers!

On Awkward MSN Conversations

2008-08-11T19:30:00.000-07:00

Instead of commenting on the MSN conversation I am CURRENTLY having, I thought I would simply put it here, for your entertainment. You should be able to pick up on the characters involved, and the topic, quite fast. Enjoy.

Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (9:44 PM):
i mean whats that about? why aren't you coming anymore
Josh says (9:44 PM):
Last time we talked I told you that if you want me to make an appearance before you go to get in touch with me, you havent done that
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (9:46 PM):
? why should i have to ask you to come, when i ALREADY asked you to come
Josh says (9:50 PM):
i dunno, things change i suppose
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (9:50 PM):
okay well whatever, do what ya gotta do
Josh says (9:50 PM):
why would you even want me to come anyway?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (9:50 PM):
cuz I want all my friends to come? I dunno!
Josh says (9:52 PM):
Well I dont know
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (9:52 PM):
alright, well don't come I guess. I'm just sayin you dont have to feel like you're not welcome, everyone's welcome.
Josh says (9:57 PM):
im just not too amped to watch you fuck whats his face (or someone else).
Im the loser so yeah im a little weird about hanging out.
And I dont give a shit if you and everyone else want to make fun of me and whatnot about it. Random sex isnt really my thing...I guess that makes me a bad person in everyone eyes.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (9:58 PM):
How could you possibly be around to see me "fuck" someone?! Thats a bit much! I don't get why you're so awkward about it, just be chill!!
Josh says (10:02 PM):
You know what I mean
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:04 PM):
what, being flirty? I'm just a flirty person in general....that's how I am. And I'll likely be flirting with a bunch of people on Saturday, so if it bugs you to see me flirt with a bunch of different guys, then I guess you probs shouldnt come. Flirting doesnt mean i'm going to fuck everyone either...... Its flirting.
Josh says (10:04 PM):
lol.....ya
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:06 PM):
Suck it up! It's going to be a fun night
Josh says (10:06 PM):
I dont want to have fun. lol
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:06 PM):
okay? thats fucked
Josh says (10:07 PM):
k
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:07 PM):
You're being retarded
Josh says (10:07 PM):
Why?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:08 PM):
Because, you're not comin cuz you...what? are wallowing in self pity? Grow up!
Josh says (10:09 PM):
lol are you fucking serious?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:10 PM):
Yah
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:10 PM):
I am
Josh says (10:12 PM):
Wow, I have been doing many things latley but wallowing in slef pitty is not one of them. Sure, I was down for a couple of days but ten I realized what a waste of my time it was actually giving a shit.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:12 PM):
Right, so what's with all the attitude tonight then, bout not comin? FUcking gay
Josh says (10:13 PM):
Because im just flat out not sure if I want to.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:14 PM):
well then don't come, I don't want anyone there who's gonna sulk in any capacity
Josh says (10:15 PM):
dont use the word sulk
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:16 PM):
yah well, that's what you did the last time you were at my house
Josh says (10:17 PM):
Because I was not aware that you were going to be fucking someone.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:18 PM):
i didnt fuck anyone, thanks
Josh says (10:18 PM):
well no not the Friday
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:18 PM):
Nope
Josh says (10:20 PM):
But a little heads up would have been the least you could have done. Im glad I was the last to know.
I realize that you are leaving and dont have to give a shit or take any responsibilty blah blah blah. But doing the decent thing usually is for the best.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:21 PM):
The decent thing? I don't have to run my decisions by anyone, least of all you. Also, I didn't know Trevor was comin that night, Matt invited him as we were all sitting on the front porch waitin for people to come
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:21 PM):
not sure how I was supposed to "warn" you.....considering I had no idea. Not that I would warn you, or anyone else, about my business.
Josh says (10:22 PM):
I know you wouldnt.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:22 PM):
That makes no sense. NO one does that
Josh says (10:23 PM):
No why would you.....why would people feelings matter?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:25 PM):
How would a warning like that go? I pull you aside at the party and say "oh hey, josh...fyi, I'm going to bang trevor, you're out. hope thats okay".

Maybe if we had like dated for years and years, and you showed up at a party where I was with my new man...I MIGHT in that situation pull you aside and say "hey hope it doesnt bug you,but im here with my new man".
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:25 PM):
But.....well, I hate to break it to you...but it was one night....and I really fail to see how that constitutes me having to tell you anything like that. Its not like we were ever in a serious thing....how could I be, I'm leaving?!
Josh says (10:29 PM):
you didnt HAVE to tell me. But it would have been nice.
How did you expect me to react being the last to know?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:29 PM):
being the last to know about what!??!?!?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:29 PM):
ts not like I'm dating anyone now
Josh says (10:32 PM):
That it was just a one night stand.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:33 PM):
I thought that was rather obvious
Josh says (10:33 PM):
lol how?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:34 PM):
?!?!? Normally if you want to date someone you have solo time
Josh says (10:35 PM):
Yeah it was my mistake for even trying to bother
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:36 PM):
Well I don't really get it, how'd that have worked anyways? I'm leaving for England. Its not like I ever hid that.
Josh says (10:37 PM):
I know that. But like I said before I was hoping that we would more or less date until you left, that would have been fine with me. Would have made for a great summer.
But like you said last time we talked, even if you werent leaving you wouldnt want to date me.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:39 PM):
That doesnt make any sense, why would I want to date ANYONE before I left?! It seems stupid...it'd just make leaving that much harder. But yah...I wouldnt have dated you regardless of staying or going...or anyone else for that matter.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:40 PM):
At least no one from around here
Josh says (10:40 PM):
What does around here have to do with anything?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:42 PM):
Because no one in this town appeals to me on a long term basis. I know everyone, and they're all douches
Josh says (10:42 PM):
lol im not sure if thats exactly true.
You cant judge people based on where they happen to live.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:43 PM):
I know everyone here....and if I don't know them they're 20, and I've dabbled in the twenty year olds enough
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:44 PM):
I'd only date someone who had the same ambitions as me, as good a job as me....and there isnt anyone in this town that fits that bill
Josh says (10:44 PM):
Do you mean a good job or lots of money?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:44 PM):
I mean a good job. A job on par with mine
Josh says (10:45 PM):
Im not exactly sure what you mean by that.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:45 PM):
a good job! I decent job! Whats not to get?
Josh says (10:46 PM):
I suppose im asking you what your definition of a good job is.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:46 PM):
40,000 plus, stability, that sort of thing.
Josh says (10:47 PM):
lol then date Nick, he has a GREAT job. Just ask him
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:47 PM):
Where's the stability
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:47 PM):
he's on contract
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:47 PM):
and we all know the auto sector is hurting
Josh says (10:48 PM):
I was being sarcastic, he hates it.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:48 PM):
i couldn't date nick anyways, I dont see him that way at all
Josh says (10:52 PM):
oh ok.

Josh says (10:53 PM):
I always assumed that you wanted to teach to help people etc.
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:58 PM):
?
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (10:58 PM):
I dont teach for the money if that's what you're implying?? I teach because it's what Ive always wanted to do, and because I'm great at it
Josh says (10:59 PM):
Thats good, but I was starting to wonder with all your good job=money talk
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (11:00 PM):
Yah well that's part of what Im talking about...ambition. Doing what you want to do
Krista (12) || Bonafide hustler, makin my name... says (11:00 PM):
i doubt highly that working in a factory is someones dream job

On Drama For Your Mama

2008-08-11T06:53:00.000-07:00

So lately I've been inviting M to hang out with the Tills gang. It's been going well, just having a fun time. Saturday, Matty had a party, and we all invited M to come along. Unfortunatly it piss poured, so instead of enjoying some bevy's on Matts gorgeous patio, we ended up hunkering down in the basement, and played Kings. I wasn't too keen on drinking, so I must admit that I faked most of my sips. As everyone else started to get drunk, they really failed to notice I was cheating, which was fine by me.

At around 11:30, we went downtown. First we went to the Mug, and then headed over to the Royal. I walked in with Christine's man Paul and M. I was hoping and praying that K wouldn't be there, but my praryers went unhedded, and I immediatly saw K playing pool with his buddies. M and Paul, being good friends with that crowd, stopped to greet everyone. The girls came up to me, to chat. Britt, the one that I thought hated me, came up, hugged me, and said "Krista! I haven't seen you in forever!". Then she paused, before adding "You WOULD come in with M!"
She tried to laugh it off, but I was instantly cautious of what she had said.
"I came with Paul too..." I said, my voice dripping with anger.
She tried to laugh it off, but I think my disapproval of her comment was visible, because she quickly escaped. I turned to my right, and chatted up one of the boys half heartedly, as I tried to work out what she had meant.

Meanwhile, K was avoiding eye contact with me, which was extrememly awkward. I decided to sit down, so I found a booth and had a seat. M and Paul came and joined me. After awhile, K walked by and M got his attention with a wave. K came and sat with us, winking at me. As he chatted with M, his hand reached under the table to grab my leg. I was shocked, unsure of what to make of it. K quickly excused himself to return to his pool game,and winked at me when he left. Frustrated, I went out for a smoke (something I rarely do, but I wanted an excuse to go outside alone).

I wasn't even out there for a minute, when K followed me. He too lit a smoke, and started chatting me up; asking when I was leaving, and that sort of thing. Then he asked me why I hadn't talked to him the past few weeks. I asked him the same question back, and he replied that he thought I hated him. I assured him that I didn't, and he said the same. Things seemed to be all right. Then he started to get a bit handsy, which put me in an awkward postion. M, Paul, and Sheena came out for a smoke, and we all stood in an awkward circle. I wasn't sure what to do. K got even more bold and flirty, in M's presence, and I realized what he was trying to do. As the others left, K held me back, and asked me to kiss him. I tried to laugh it off, but he pulled my sweater, causing me to lean into him, and kissed me on the lips.

I was shocked, and terribly confused. All my past feelings for him came flooding back in an instant. I still find him ridiculously attractive, so it wasn't easy for me to resist him. A part of me really wanted to take him back and ravish him. Another part of me wanted to hurl. It was so conflicting. I walked back into the bar, with K trailing after me. I tried to ignore him though, and eventually he left me to my own devices.

After stewing in my emotions for about half an hour, I decided to leave. I grabbed Paul, Sheena and M, and we made the trek back to my place. For the record, nothing happend with M and I that night, as he passed out on the couch.

I did,however drunkenly text K as I was laying in bed.
"You better come to my party! It's going to be hella good times!" I said.
"I will. Me and you should hook up one last time before you leave" he replied.
"That could be arranged..." I sent back.

In the morning, I regretted that last text....it was mostly the result of conflicting emotions within myself. However, I talked to Paul about it, and he really made me realize that K is an asshole who only wants what he can't have...and for the limited amount of time I have left, M is the best choice. He's a much nicer guy, all around.

I will try my hardest to resist K this weekend, should he show up and try to follow through.

Wish me luck!

On Man Drama

2008-08-04T19:16:00.000-07:00

So this weekend was the August Long Weekend, though it wasn't very long for me. It was, however, quite fun.

Friday night my parents were still off camping, so my sister and I took advantage by hosting a shindig. We invited as many people as we could, and a good number actually did show up. Before the party really started to happen, it was just the "gang" of Sheena, Holly, Matt and I. We were all joking around, and I mentioned that I would have to hit on someone in front of Josh, if I had any hopes of crushing him enough to make him stop liking me. Holly mentioned that I should hit on one of K's friends, M, because she knew I had always had a little bit of a crush on him. Matty jumped in, saying that he thought it was an excellent idea, and he would text M to see if he was doing anything. At first I was against the idea, but slowly it started to gain on me. Why not invite M, get a little shameless flirting in with a very cute guy?! So I gave Matty the go ahead. We all got to talking, and didn't hear back right away. The mosquito's started to get annoying at this point, and seeing that we didn't have any Power Pads left, I volunteered to walk to Shoppers to pick some up, so that we wouldn't get eaten alive. When I returned, I noticed that M's car was in the driveway. I mentally thanked Matt, and walked into the house.

There he was, sitting on a stool! I smiled at him, and asked him if he wanted a beer. At first he refused, saying he couldn't stay long, since he had to work in the morning. After a few gentle verbal prods, however, he changed his mind, and I fetched him a beer from the basement. After that, the party really started to pick up, and I started to get tipsy, and hence bolder. My flirting got dangerously out of control, and I started to focus in on M like he was the only one at the party. At around 10:30, Nick and Josh showed up. I gave Nick a hug, as is our custom, but didn't pay any attention to Josh. I continued to rain flirtations down on M. I could tell that Josh was getting ticked off, but this is exactly what I had wanted. The kid needed to get a dose of reality; I was not, and never would be, interested in him. Whatever happened between us was a fluke occurrence, and not something I wanted to pursue.

At one point, Sheena took me aside and told me that Josh was outside flipping out, throwing around beer bottles and cursing about how I was "flirting" with Matt's buddy. At one point he stalked me into the bathroom, and tried to confront me as I left. However, I spun past him, merely saying "He's just a friend, get over it". What I should have said was "You're just a friend, get over it". Anyways, everyone else wanted to go downtown, but Matt, Holly, Ethan, M and I decided downtown wasn't for us. So we all stuck around at my house, drinking, chatting, and flirting. At around one, M got up to leave, and I walked him to the door. Nothing happened, and he took off. I was slightly bummed, but meh, what can you do!

The following day, I get MORE MSN messages from Josh, where he again poured his heart out to me. He said he was hurt at seeing me flirt so shamelessly with another guy. Then he again asked me what I felt towards him. At this point, it was starting to get very grating to me. His constant whining and bitching was making me not want to spend ANY time around him, in any fashion. I decided at that moment to avoid being around him, at all costs. If he was going to be at a party somewhere, I would make sure not to attend. Thank god I only have a few weeks left here, and that won't be hard. Anyways, after him incessantly asking me what I thought about him and about "us" I had to stop being nice, and start being nasty. I told him in no uncertain terms that I was never interested in dating him, and that even if I wasn't leavin for England I would never date him. I told him I was not interested in him beyond a friend AT ALL, and that with his present actions even THAT was questionable. I also, rather bluntly, told him that he had been in the right place at the right time, and that whatever had happened had meant nothing to me. I know I made him cry again, though he didn't admit it this time, but I don't really care. I can't help but think of him as a total loser now. He annoys me to no end, and is one of those creepy whiny guys you hear about, but never want to meet. He's a crybaby loser, and isn't near good enough for me. Thank god I can wash my hands of him now. YUCK. The whole thing sends shivers down my spine. That's one number I will not count as real on my counter, because it's just too damn embarrassing.

Anyways.....The next day, while I was at work, I get a text message from Holly. I call her back on my break, only to find out that someone from my party told M's ex-girlfriend that he had been at my party, and the stories were escalating to the point where it was being said we had had sex upstairs while everyone was at the party. SO DID NOT HAPPEN! Anyways, I had invited M to come to a party Saturday night with me, and was afraid that this garbage was going to prevent him from coming. However, Holly said Matt was working on him, so I was content with that.

I got done work at 10, and drove out to the party. When I got there, I saw my tent was set up, which was a good thing. Also, M was there! He had brought two friends with him, which was just peachy keen! At first, he was pulling another nancy, and was intent on not stayin over for the night. He said, again, that he had to work in the morning, and besides he "had nowhere to crash". I scoffed at this, and told him he could share my tent with me.
"I won't even try to do anything...honest. Although, if it's already being said...."
He laughed, and then agreed to stay.
At that point, the drinking began in earnest.

It ended up being a really fun night! I got drunker than I have been in awhile. Once everyone started to peter out, I grabbed his hand and lead him to my tent. The rest, as they say, is history. Needless to say, the rumours (at least part of them) came true Saturday night.

Anyways, he's a much nicer guy than K ever was. It kind of sucks that a) I didn't put the effort into HIM first, instead of K and b) that I am leaving for England. I always meet the nice boys at the wrong time. It was kind of funny though, because he drunkenly told me that he never understood why I was with K, since he's "a bit of a douchebag, especially to girls" and that he "didn't treat me nearly as good as I deserved to be treated". As he got drunker, he even ventured so far as to say that he wished he could beat the crap out of K for me, for treating me like trash. It was rather adorable, and I had a nice little smug giggle about it. What a nice boy!

Alright, well that's it for now!

Cheers!

On Network Switches on Facebook, and the Deluge of Men

2008-07-31T20:04:00.000-07:00

So I recently decided to make a pre-emptive network change on Facebook, and have switched from London, Ontario to London, United Kingdom. I also dropped my security features, so that people can find me. The way I see it, students don't even know about my existence yet, so they won't be searching for me. Once I start teaching, I will get those features back up and running. In the meantime, I want to be available to anyone overseas. Gotta make friends SOMEHOW! Also, I'm finding that the people I am talking to, in terms of finding housing, are keen to befriend me, and they've all asked for my Facebook, to get an idea of what I'm like as a person. So it made sense to drop the high level of security.

Well, I've been hit on a lot, since making the switch. Most of them have been duds, but there was one extraordinarily hot man that I've started to chat with. He's 31 though, but he certainly doesn't look that old. He's blonde, with a killer bod, and is a lead firefighter. Can you say rawr? Anyways, we're just kind of chatting it up, and he's giving me some advice on living in the area (he lives in Cambridge now, but he grew up in the village I will be teaching in). He hasn't really hit on me, which is pretty fabulous, but I definitely think he is buttering me up. Who knows, if he doesn't give me the creepy vibe before I depart, I may arrange for him to show me around the town. Can't win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket!

But enough of that! I have other news to disclose!

If you go back a few months, you will recall me talking about my friend Adam in Thunder Bay. The one that had a girlfriend, and was always hitting on me. You know...the one I'd fooled around with on more than one occasion, and whom I professed a certain "love" for? Yes, that Adam. Well, I get a message from him on MSN last night, saying that he is going to come to my goodbye party! AH! I am so excited for him to come! He's going to be bringing some of his friends, which will be fine, because it will mean more fun times! As it stands, the party will be mostly girls, or at least that's what I am thinking. Anyways, I am just amped that he wants to come and see me off. Secretly, I think I know why...I think he kind of feels the same way I do about the whole situation. We definitely had a spark of some sort, that we started to try and deny, because of his girlfriend. I think if he comes, and if he is attentive to me (which I think he will be, why else would he come all this way), that something may happen between us. Maybe one last go at it, before I leave the country. I know he still has a girlfriend, but I don't think that I will be able to stop myself. There is just something about him...something that is so irresistible to me. From the very first night we met, I wanted him....which is weird, because he's not stereotypically attractive. In fact, I'm thinking most of my friends won't even find him cute...but to me, he is stunning. Plus his personality wins me over, every time. He just makes me laugh. Ugh. If he does come, I can guarantee I will be totally smitten by him.

We'll have to wait and see how that plays out. Regardless, I was surprised that he is going to come, and remained amped about it. It's going to be an amazing night, I can feel it now.

There may be some awkwardness, as many of my former lovers will be present...but that's nothing I haven't coped with before. I just hold my head high, and keep the past where it belongs; in the past. The night isn't about what happened, but about what is going to happen.

OH! Gosh! I almost forgot! Remember how a few posts back I was talking about my friend Josh? He's the guy who clearly had a mega crush on me, despite the fact that I am going to England. Yah well...his puppy dog affection for me took a turn for the worse, when I went with our "gang" to his cottage in Long Point, this past weekend. Unfortunately for me, I got drunk and ended up sleeping with him. If I had been at all sober, this would not have happened, as I not in the least bit attracted to him. As vain as this sounds, I am far too good looking for the guy. Also, he doesn't have nearly enough ambition or drive to date me. I'm a very picky girl, and I like my men to be as driven as myself. Case in point, he is going to back school in the fall to complete High School. I teach it. He's in it, at the ripe age of 23. Not for me. I mean, kudos for him for making the effort to go back, but its too little too late for a girl like me. Besides, I'm going to England. But I digress. He got lucky that I was drunk and horny, and let him sleep with me. It was still awkward, despite my drunkeness, as he gushed to me that he "liked me a lot" and that being with me was "everything he hoped it would be". Barf! In the morning I tried to be as casual as possible, but it was obvious to me he was already in love. He fawned over me the rest of the day, trying to do every little thing for me, while staring at me with these big pathetic eyes. What was worse was the fact that everyone else heard us doing it, and wouldn't stop teasing me all day. They started to call him "Jackrabbbit Josh", which was immensely embarrassing for me. I wanted to die. I shot dagger eyes at Sheena all day, but she wouldn't stop. I could have embarrassed her just as much, since I had heard her having sex with Holly's brother Nick, but I refrained from doing so out of respect for her. Too bad she couldn't return the favour.

Anyways, after Saturday night, I was bombarded with messages from Josh, asking me to hang out, or watch a movie with him. I kept avoiding his suggestions, and resolved to only be around him when the rest of the gang was present. Tuesday night, everyone came over to play Rock Band, have some drinks, and watch a movie. He was there, and all night he kept looking at me with this disgusting look of longing. To make matters worse, my friend Meaghan was there, and she has a huge crush on Josh. I was fairly certain she saw the looks he was giving me, but I ignored him all night. I literally said two words to him. I hoped he had gotten the message. Everyone started to filter out around 11, though he tried to linger behind. However, I faked exhaustion, and he reluctantly left with Meaghan. Thank GOD.

About ten minutes later, as I was about to shut down my computer, I get an MSN message from him. In it, he asks me if he can rant to me a minute. Knowing where this is going, I reluctantly say yes.
He immediately launches into a sob story, about how he's such an idiot for falling for me. He said that from the moment he met me he knew I was leaving, but he couldn't help liking me.
"There's something - no, a lot of things - about you that draw me to you," he said at one point. "I'm such an idiot, because I always fall for the girl I can't have. I like you. A lot. A lot a lot."
Gawd. I had no idea what to say to that. I felt bad, because I feel nothing for the guy, short of sheer revulsion now. I can't stand when guys are pansy ass silly nannies. Grow a pair, and be a man for facks sake!
Anyways, I tried to handle the situation with as much tack a possible, letting him down as easy as possible.
He didn't make it easy for me though. At one point he asked me if what had happened on Saturday would ever happen again, because it had been "Everything, and more, than he had expected" and that it had been "Amazing, but that he knew it was just sex to me, and that hurt more than anything".
Good gawd....I tried to tell him that I didn't think it could happen again, because I was leaving in a few weeks time, and it would just be "mean". I also played the "Meaghan likes you, and I don't want to make her mad" card as well.
In the end, he admitted to me that he had "shed a tear or two tonight" over me, which made me want to vomit in disgust. He cried over me? Over one night of drunken, meaningless sex? What the FACK!?

I was talking to Christine on MSN, as all this was going down, and made a comment about him being a stage five clinger. She got a good laugh out of that, and called him an "F5", and then said she may as well call me Helen Hunt. It was a pretty good laugh, and definitely took my mind off the awkwardness that was taking place in my conversation with Josh.

I held in my disgust, as I tried to reject him as nicely as humanly possible. In the end, I think I succeeded. I still broke his needy little heart, but that couldn't be helped. In the meantime, I've resolved not to go anywhere where he is going to be, without a large buffer of people. He is having people over to his cottage next weekend, and I am determined NOT to go. I wouldn't make the mistake of sleeping with him again, even if I was shit canned half way to death. However, I just want to avoid the awkwardness. I think the best thing for the entire situation would be for him to see me out, flirting with another guy...perhaps even leaving with one. That'd make him think I was a slut, would be a lot better than the saint he thinks I am now.

Ugh.

Why is it that we can get men to fall hopelessly in love with us, but its never the men we want?

I shake my fist at you, life.

Cheers!

On Doing Something Socially Awkward...Or Rather SomeONE

2008-07-28T20:06:00.000-07:00

Friday night I decided to get good and drunk about life, and the shitty curve balls it has thrown at me lately. So I invited a bunch of people out to drink on my back patio, and for the first time in ages EVERYONE that I invited came! It was actually quite nice, and despite my initial plan to not get drunk...I got shit faced. Eventually, like every other Friday night, the gang decided to head downtown. We skipped going to the Mug, and went right to the Royal too, which is a rare occurrence. It was fairly busy, and got busierwith every passing moment. I grabbed myself a Rum and Coke, found a place to sit, and proceeded to get more drunk about life with my friends. Christine and Paul, who are now officially a couple, sat with me the majority of the time, while everyone else mingled and smoked, respectively. At one point I convinced Christine and Paul to come dance with me...which is a sure sign that I'm wobbled beyond repair. After sweating it out dancing, I decide to go pee. Christine comes with me, and tells me that Paul has told her he loves her. I am so so happy for her, since she deserves that more than ANYONE right now (a decent man who loves her, and worships the ground she walks on). However, it also highlights how fucked over I got, with my twenty-year old experiment. Their relationship, which started over a one night stand, has unexpectedly turned into a very real relationship, while what I had initially hoped would be a relationship with K has turned out to be a total sham. I had a five second pout about it, as I was peeing, and then resolved to not let it bother me anymore. I came out of the stall, slapped on a happy face, and decided to get even more drunk about it.

Walking out of the bathroom, I saw a guy I went to high school with out of the corner of my eye. His first name isn't important right now...but his last name certainly is. If you read the titles of these posts, you'll notice that this one is about doing someONE socially awkward. It doesn't get much more socially awkward than doing someONE with the same last name as you. Which is what I did.

Now. Before you start freaking out and throwing up...I can assure you, 100%, that this boy and I are not related. At all. When I first met him in grade 8, I had a mega crush on him, and I blatantly came home and asked my Dad to see our family tree. Then I asked him if we were at all related to this boy. He laughed at me, and told me that we have ZERO relatives in this area, and that NO, we are not related to this kids family, unless it was eons and eons ago. I can't stress this enough...WE ARE NOT RELATED. We just share a last name. Think of it this way...there's an awful lot of Smith's out there, and they aren't all related. It wouldn't be that much of a stretch for a Smith and a Smith to meet and fall in love. Hell, my Mom has a friend whose last name is Reed, and she met and married a guy whose last name is also Reed. They conducted a full family study before they even had sex, but they made sure they weren't related. They weren't, and neither am I and this guy.

Regardless, you can understand how it would be a tad socially awkward for people to find out that we messed around. Anyways, now that I got THAT out of the way, I can finish my story.

So I noticed him, and noticed that he noticed me. We've ran into each other a bunch of times since I've moved back home, and he was always quite friendly to me, always coming over to say "hello". Since I suffer from ugly duckling syndrome (I was ugly in high school, and am not now), my ego really eats up people like him coming and being nice to me. It just makes me feel like a better person, because I escaped high school and turned into this desirable woman. Anyways, I digress. Like all the times before that night, he came up to me and said "hi". In fact, he choose a moment when I happened to be sitting alone at the table. He came over and sat in one of the empty chairs, and enquired as to why I was sitting alone. So we chatted it up, and he eventually offered to buy me a drink. I accepted, of course. We continued chatting until I saw Christine talking to the Cadman kid. If you knew the history behind Cadman and Christine, you'd have been horrified to see them talk.
Her man, Pauly, was looking rather worried about the chatting that was taking place, so I asked him if he wanted me to go break it up.
"Would you?" he asked me.
"Damn right I will!" I said. Then I turned to the boy.
"I gotta go break that up" I said to the boy, "Wanna come help me?"
"Fuck yah I do," he said.
So we went up, and chatted up Christine and Cadman, while I worked on pulling her away from his toxic grasp. After I succeeded in getting her back into Pauls arms, I stood standing with the boy awhile, talking and generally flirting.

Thats when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, K's best guy friend come sauntering into the bar from one of the side doors. I held my breath, hoping and praying that K wouldn't follow him in. My prayers were not answered, as K quickly followed his buddy into the bar. My spirits sank considerably, but my brain acted much quicker. I changed my body language instantly, touching the boys arm while I giggled seductively at something he said. I think put on my coyest smile, and glanced up at him from under my bangs. It worked.
"You know what I think you should do? I think you should come back to my buddies place with me..." he said.
"I don't think I can," I purred back, "I have to work in the morning."
"I'll drive you home whenever you want. You gotta be up at 7 or something? I can do that!"
"No...I just have to be home for 10," I said.
"Shit, ten is nothing. I can get you home for ten..."
"Well...alright..." I say.
He grabs my hand, all smiles now.
"Alright, lets not waste any time!"
We walk back to the table, so that I can grab my purse.
K is sitting at the table directly beside the one I was at. I look at him, and see that he was already looking at me.
"Hey Krista!" he says. He has that look on his face, like he wants me to join him. His stupid grin, that used to win me over every weekend before this one. He gives his head a shake, and his bangs flutter out from over his eyes.
Ignoring all this, I grab my bag, and merely wave at him. Then I turn around, take the other boys hand, and say "I'm ready!"

In retrospect, I must admit that some of the courage that allowed me to accept his indecent proposal was spurned on by seeing K walk into the bar. I wanted so badly for him to see me with this other guy. I wanted him to get jealous, and I wanted him to know that he wasn't in control. If he was thinking that he could date other chicks, while I waited around for him to call me for sex, he had another thing coming. I wanted him to know he wasn't the only one that could wheel.

Well, he certainly knows now.

The next day I get a text message from him.
"So you went back with another guy eh?
"Naw!" I said.
"That's not what I heard"
"Yah, well people talk a lot of shit. I heard you were on a date at Boston Pizza and I didn't give two shits"
"I was on a date was fun" he says.
This text really makes me laugh, because it becomes painfully obvious to me at this point that he is SUPER bothered by the fact that I went home with another guy. So much so, that he thought making a comment like that would hurt me. Oh, how wrong he was.
"Ha ha! Well then what's the problem?" I ask.
"Nothing. It's not like we're dating, we're just buddies, right?" he replies.
"Exactly, dude!" I say back, chill as fuck.

The best thing is, I finally feel like I won. I have absolutely no feelings for K, and I haven't for weeks. Not since the whole mono fiasco. I love that he was bothered, because it shows that, despite everything, he did like me. He might deny it, but his text message proves it. I contemplated texting him when I found out he was on a date, but I didn't, because I realized I didn't care. He must care, otherwise why would he have texted? I won, and it feels amazing to know it.

By the way, even though it has socially awkward undertones, the sex with the other boy was amazing. Even he commented that it should happen again. I must really know how to throw it down. It helped that he had a fucking amazing body. He was also the first hockey player I've banged, and one of many ego trip fucks I've had. Going back to the ugly duckling syndrome, he's just another guy from high school that I can add to the "wouldn't have fucked me in high school, but loves my life now" checklist. It just makes me feel so good inside, when these kinds of boys gush about how gorgeous I am now. I know it's a little bit pathetic, on my part, to get off on that crap, but it really does do wonders for my self esteem.

Well,I guess that is enough for one night.

Cheers!

On K Being A Total Douche, And Making Me Feel Whorish

2008-07-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening, I was sitting at home wasting time on the Internet before I had to go into work at 7pm. As I was sitting there, I get a phone call from my friend Holly.
"Hey, I'm in Boston Pizza in Woodstock, and guess who's here," she says.
"K" I say, already knowing exactly where this is going.
"Yep...and he's not alone. He's with some blonde chick. She kinda looks like that Nikita girl that works at Kelseys"
"Oh yah? Who knows, maybe..."
"It clearly looks like he is on a date. I mean, he came in alone, and she came in after...but Matt and I both agree it looks very date-like. It's a date," she says.
"Wow, unreal," I say. I don't know what else to say. I can't decided how I'm feeling.
She pauses for a minute, before asking, "Are you mad? I debated whether or not I should call you, because I wasn't sure that you'd really care, but then I thought I would like to know...and Matt said that you deserved to know, so I called you..."
I hesitate a millisecond before replying, "No. I'm not mad....Well. I'm a little hurt, if anything. Not about him being there with some girl...but just at the fact that the entire time I was 'seeing' him, he never took me out for dinner...and now here he is with some random blonde....makes me feel like such a whore. Like all I was good for was sex..."
Holly sighs, "Well, we all knew he was a douche bag...I'm sorry. I mean, I know you don't really care, and yet I know that you do"
"Yah. I don't care...I mean I was over this ages ago. And I'm leaving for England, so what the fuck do I care, I mean really? It's just the principle of the thing that really gets to me. I feel like trash..."
"Don't. Do you want me to try to see if I know who the girl is?" she asks.
"Sure, why not. Just for shits and giggles," I say.
We hang up, and she tells me she will call me once she leaves.
About 10 minutes later she calls back, unsure of who the girl is. She didn't get a good look at her face, and she didn't want to make it look TOO obvious that she was looking.
"Did K see you?" I ask.
"I don't think so, he was pretty engrossed in the girl..."
I frown to myself, and shake my head.
"Whatever, fuck that. At least now I know not to let him touch my body. No more booty calls for him. Dick..."

I briefly toyed with the idea of texting him, and saying "How's the date goin?". In fact, I even asked my good bud Rachelle if she thought this was a good idea. She texted me back with a resounding NO, saying that it would only make it look like I cared. I thought about it, and realized she was right. Doing that would make me sound like a jealous bitch, which is not something that I am. For all I care he can go date the world. I just don't like the way finding out made me feel about myself...I felt very used and disgusting.

You see, I had recently resolved to be over the guy. He just wasn't worth the effort. However, last Friday I saw him out at the bar. I panicked a little, unsure of what to do that night. I was adamant that I would not approach him, since he had hardly spoken to me in weeks. My friends all urged me to go say hello, but I was stubborn with the idea that he had to come to me. Rightly so. There was no way in hell I was going to go crawling for him. I saw him leave for a smoke around 1. Coincidentally enough, I get a text message from him while he is outside.
"Should come to the bar" he says.
I smile smugly. I know he's seen me, and this is his lame attempt to try to act like he hasn't.
"I'm already at the bar" I reply.
As I predicted, the moment he comes in from his smoke he walks directly towards me. He clearly saw me previously, but couldn't figure out how to come over and say hello. He used the lame excuse that he talked to my sister outside, and that she was the one that clued him into where I was sitting. Regardless, I am more than a little pleased that I "won"; he DID come to me. We flirt shamelessly for awhile, and then he asks me to come sit with him and his buddies. I happily oblige, thinking that things are going back to the way they used to be. We go over to where his friends are, and he sits down, beckoning me to sit on his lap. He's all hands, touching my legs, my thigh, my stomach, my back. He pulls my head down for a kiss more than once. Drunkenly, I kiss him back, and get equally as handsy. We end up fooling around that night, and it's as good as ever.

And then I don't hear from him again. Then I get Holly's call. It all comes crashing in my face. I feel so used. It's not even a week since we screwed around, and he's on a date with some tiny blonde. I'm nothing more than a roll in the hay to him. It smacks me in the face, hard. This is why I struggle for a moment when Holly calls me. This is why I'm unsure of how to feel. Up until that point, I had always thought that I while K and I were casual, there was never a threat of anyone else. Now there is. Suddenly I don't feel as secure in our casual relationship. Now it's not casual. It's a pure booty call on his part, and I am nothing more than an easy catch. That stings me more than I thought it would. Not much has changed, and yet I go from feeling like I have some control on the situation to having none at all. I'm purely a play thing to him, at his beck and call.

Well...now that I have this new found knowledge, rest assured that his days of playing with me are over. If he tries to booty call me again, which for some reason I highly doubt he will, I will call him on his disgusting behaviour. However, like I said, I doubt the opportunity will arise. I'm guessing he will be able to wheel the new girl fairly fast. Most girls are pretty keen to take off their panties these days, so I doubt he will have much of a struggle to get into her pants. He's a charmer, anyways. He puts in all the time at the start, to get you into thinking he likes you. He's good that way. I wish whoever this new girl is all the luck in the world, because once he tires of her like he tired of me, she'll be just another girl chucked into the used pile.

Anyways, the whole situation made me realize that I have really great friends. Holly is a great friend for calling me as soon as she realized what was going on, and for being honest with me. Rachelle is also a great friend, for giving me the insight I couldn't see right away. And she gave it to me while on a date! So kudos to her. But it also highlighted the fact that I miss my best friend, Andie. She's gone for 5 weeks to Quebec, to take part in this really amazing program to learn French. It's such a great thing for her! I am so proud of her! But I also miss her like crazy, and I miss being able to talk to her. I was sooo tempted to call her cell phone, but then I worried that she'd be busy, or that it would cost us both too much due to roaming and long distance charges, or whatever! Also, it was such a trivial thing to call her about, so I decided against it. Still...it really showed me how much I miss being able to talk to her. We used to talk on MSN like every day, at least for a little bit. And I always knew she was there. I know she is there now, she's not even that far! However, I guess what's really bothering me is that it's really showing me how hard it's going to be when I am in England. The good news is it is making me determined to try and talk to her as much as I can while I am overseas. I really need my Banandie, and I won't let some stupid ocean and time distance get in the way of that! But anyways, I am sad that I am going through this shitty K crap without her around...cuz I know she'd offer some insight that no one else can, cuz she knows me better than anyone. Ah well. I can't wait for my going away party. It's going to be really good, but really sad. I didn't cry at Andie's goodbye party, cuz I knew I would see her soon. This time I will cry, because the distance will be so much further...but I know that I will make every effort to stay connected, not just to her, but to all my dear friends (Rachelle, Holly, Christine) and my family (Sheens and Ethan especially). It might take a lot of work on my part, and maybe require some odd hours for me to be up, but I am determined that I will do it. I don't want to be cut out of everyone's lives, just because I am in England. I will still need them, perhaps more than ever, as I make this huge leap. But enough of the sad stuff for now....
Cheers.

On Being Bloody Hot

2008-07-17T20:17:00.000-07:00

I don't mean looks-wise hot either. I mean temperature wise hot. The weather here is bloody awful lately. A heat wave is going through, and its absolutely awful. Makes me want to die, sometimes. I am a sweaty girl, so I don't just glow, I glisten. I drip. The sweat beads down my breasts and back, like a fat kid. It's nasty, and very very unpleasant. I also worry about how unattractive it makes me. I can't imagine any man feeling sexual desire for a woman who is flushed and sweaty. The classic sweat stains on the back of the shirt doesn't scream "DO ME" to anyone I know of. I certainly don't find it attractive on men, so I can only imagine the damage it does to my own sexual appeal.

I often fight the sweatiness as much as I can. I wear as little as possible. I stick to cotton only. I stand in front of fans. I move around as little as possible. I do not exert myself, in any way. Despite all this, I still sweat. It's horribly embarrassing.

I honestly wouldn't mind the temperature either, if it wasn't so damn humid out. The humidity is what really drains me; it really gets my sweat glands working in overdrive. It's disgusting when you can feel the heaviness of the air on your skin. Currently, I am laying in my bed, with a floor fan and a ceiling fan beating down on me, and all I can feel is hot, damp, heavy air being circulated around my body. It clings to my legs, and whips my hair lamely against my face. It's not at all cooling, and I am wondering whether or not to just turn it all off. Maybe if I let the air stagnate around me, it wouldn't feel as sticky hot. Or maybe it would be worse. It's so hard for me to judge.

Anyways, I really didn't want to rant on endlessly about the heat. It's kind of lame when people can only talk about the weather. I can't help but wonder if there isn't something more exciting people can discuses. Sorry for inflicting a weather rant on you.

Cheers.

On Being Well Again, and Other Developments

2008-07-16T08:50:00.000-07:00

After three weeks, a trip to the Emergency Room, and endless nights of no sleep, I am proud to say that I feel 100% better! I think I may have finally managed to kick this mono, which is a huge load off! Now that I feel normal again, it really is astonishing to me how debilitating the infection was! I really did feel a lot more lethargic and tired. I am just glad that the laziness had a reason, and wasn't just some random change in my personality. I was very afraid, prior to my diagnosis, that I was simply aging, and my laziness was a result of my body telling me it was time to slow down. I should have known that 23 was far too young for that change to be taking place! What a relief that I can now return to my normal, energetic self! I went to the gym today for the first time in a week, and it felt good to sweat again. My muscles were starting to miss the strain I put them through, and I was definitely starting to worry that I would lose all those weeks of hard work. I like my tight new legs, and wasn't too keen on giving those up.

I've finally got my timetable for the first semester e-mailed to me. I was a bit afraid of what I was going to be expected to teach, but now that it is all before me, I am very at ease. There is only one book I have to teach that I am unfamiliar with, but I will hastily order it from Amazon.ca, and start reading it as soon as possible. The rest is all literature that I am familiar with, having read it at some point in my life. Obviously I will re-read everything, this time taking an educators perspective, and taking notes on what I think I could do with the material. The English department head said there are detailed lesson plans available for me to use, but that I am free to do my own thing, so long as the end result is the same. I can work within those confines quite easily. I do hope to be able to bring my own techniques and style into teaching the lessons, and hopefully add to their ways of teaching the content. I would hate to think that I go all the way to England and fail to teach the STAFF anything. After all, part of getting someone like myself to come over is to get a fresh perspective into the department, for staff and students alike. I really hope that I can contribute to the school in a number of different levels. I am confident enough in my abilities that I will do that, but sometimes I think it's just wishful thinking. Ah well. I can only do my best, and hope that someone gets something out of it.

I still haven't talked to K since I ran into him at work on Saturday. I'm not at all concerned though. In fact, I really am quite indifferent to the entire matter. As the Maroon 5 and Rihanna song goes "If I never see your face again, I don't mind". It couldn't be any truer for myself, at this point. I harbour no ill will, and don't feel one way or the other about him. I'd be content with being his friend, at this point, but if he decides he wants to cut all contact, that's fine too. I really don't care, either way. I certainly don't need him for anything. In fact, I'm increasingly beginning to realize that there's never really a shortage of men in my life that wouldn't gladly fill any male vacancies I may have. As it were, a few weeks back I was introduced to a lovely new fellow from town. He's a friend of my friend Nick (who is Holly's older brother), and his name Joshua. I'll skip calling him by his first initial, since it doesn't particularly matter if anyone knows about THIS crush. I'm leaving in 37 days, so whatever gets out there will get out there and then crumble after I've left. Anyways. He's only a year younger than me this time, instead of the 4 year difference between K and I. I still find it slightly amusing though, that he is still technically younger. When will I learn? Heh heh. We both find it rather bizarre that we grew up in this town, and have never met each other until just now. I thought I knew everyone, but apparently not. He went to Otterville Public School and then Norwich High School, like Nick and Holly did, so that probably accounts for my failure to know him. Anyways, he's pretty much your average next-door-neighbour type guy; not drop dead gorgeous by any means, but cute, with an endearing personality. He's shy, which sometimes gets me going - shyness in men can bring out a saucy streak in me. I tend to want to corrupt them. We talk on MSN most nights, and it's never awkward. This is a huge difference than talking with K, who never really disclosed much of anything, and was terrible at maintaining a conversation. I should have guessed from that that he was a dud. Ah well. C'est la vie. Anyways, Josh is probably the most honest person I've met in awhile, and I find his frankness is often surprising. He doesn't seem afraid to admit that he likes me, and often complains about how unfair it is that we met now, just as I am about to leave the country. He also told me the other night that he fears I will never return, and that it makes him sad. I'm never sure how to reply to these things. We've never even so much as hugged, so it's a bit odd to have someone admit to feeling this way, while getting nothing in return. This isn't to say I didn't want to try, however the mono really put a damper on anything ever progressing. Then, when I talked to him about it, he told me flat out that as much as he'd like to try "these things" with me, and how he knows it would be "amazing", he would rather not go there because it would make things very hard when I left. It makes a lot of sense, because often when you take that leap, feelings get involved. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone, so we've kind of agreed to keep things on a familial level. I know my feelings wouldn't get hurt, should anything happen, because I am already prepared to go. I'm ready to cut all ties of that nature, in the hopes of making new relationships over there. However, I can't expect a guy here to be ready to do the same. They go nowhere, their feelings will remain. Mine won't. It's a sticky situation.

Anyways, the whole Josh thing has just really shown me that there ARE nice guys out there, who like me for more than just my body. I can get whoever I want, if I put my mind to it. So I will take this new found power with me to England, and be sure to woo whichever lucky bloke catches my eye. He better be a looker!

Cheers.

On My Growing Excitement About Going to England

2008-07-14T19:19:00.000-07:00

I realize that I am posting twice in the same day, but I feel like the difference in topic of the two posts entitles them to their own space and title. If I had stuck with one post, it would have been exceedingly long, and you'd have been less pick up where you left off, if you stopped reading for the night. I'm just doing you a favour, darling!!

So, I thought it would be prudent of me to let you know that I have finally made my trip to England OFFICIAL. Obviously, it was official before, in that I had a job lined up, and was determined to go. However, I never had any of the nitty gritty stuff accomplished. Last week, I recieved my Working Holidaymaker Visa. This is the four hundred and change dollar Visa that I had applied to in June, that would allow me to work in England for a period of up to two years. I was excited to have gotten the Visa, because, as I mentioned in a previous post, I was afraid my money situation would hinder my application. Turns out it wasn't an issue at all, and it was approved within days of my appearing in person to submit it. I was overjoyed when I recieved it, and instantly started to plan for trip over.

I went online, shopped around for flights, and after a half hour of comparing, I booked a flight for August 22nd with Zoom. It leaves Toronto at around 8 at night, and arrives in London at 10 in the morning, London time (which means that the six hour leap ahead in time is factored into the arrival time). I am a tad nervous that I will effectively lose 6 hours of sleep, so I am planning to sleep for most of the plane ride there, if I can. I may take a gravol or two to aid in this plan, but we shall see. I want to avoid jet lag as much as possible.

I also went ahead and booked a hotel room for the night of August 23rd. I booked the room off of the Gatwick airport website, since that's the airport I am flying into. It's apparently a 4 star hotel, a five minute shuttle ride (free) from the airport. I plan to check in as soon as I can, drop my stuff off in the room, and then find a way to head out to view London on my own for the day. I want to stay up all day, and go to bed at around 10pm London time. I've been told that it's best to try as soon as possible to get into a normal sleep pattern, so I am going to try my hardest, right from the start. The following day, Sunday the 24th, I am going to find my way to a train station in London, and attempt to figure out how to get from London to Cambridge. I am told trains run that way, so this shouldn't be too hard. Once in Cambridge, I may just call a cab, and get it to take me to Swavesey, where I am arranging at the moment to stay in a bed and breakfast for a week. During that week, I plan to view flats and rooms to rent, for the rest of the year. I've already made three appointments, so things are moving along quite nicely.

I can only hope it all goes as planned. I am very nervous at the prospect of having to do this TOTALLY alone, and in a foreign country. However, the best I can do is plan a LOT before I go, and hope that nothing goes wrong. If it does, I will have to rely on the kindness of strangers, and try to use my Canadian charm to help myself out.

As the flight date approaches, I can't help but start to get more and more excited about it. This is going to be such an amazing opportunity for me...to get to live and work in England...I mean how many people can do that? Sure, lots of people go teach English as a second language in Korea....but that's not the same. I don't think that holds as much weight as teaching in England, where the curriculum is much more like the curriculum in Ontario. I feel that I will be much more qualified, when I return. It will be a much more real teaching experience, and one that I could use to help me progress as a teacher, both in England and in Canada.

I also would be lying if I didn't say I an harbouring fantasies about meeting someone in England. Someone really special. Maybe even THE someone. Maybe the reason I am having so much trouble over here is because HE'S not here...he's over there. I can't help but think that this is happening for a reason. I am going to England not just to teach, but maybe to find the life that was meant for me. I'm a hopeless romantic in that sense. However, my Mom keeps cautioning that if I go there looking for love, I won't find it, because we never find what we're looking for when we're openly seeking it; it has to find us when we least expect it. So, in that vein, I will try very hard not to have any expectations. In fact, once I get there I will probably be so busy with working and planning, I won't have time to look. So maybe it will hit me, after all!

Anyways, that's all I wanted to say on the matter, for now. I will keep trying to update you on the progress, as it comes.

Cheers!

On Having Mono.....Yes, Mono

2008-07-14T18:44:00.000-07:00

I realize it's been awhile since I posted, and I apologize. However, if the title of this blog caught your eye, then surely you must be aware of at least one possible reason for my literary absence. As I boldly stated in the title, I have mono. Yes...the so called "kissing disease" that afflicts so many youth, past and present. I will remind you, yet again in case you were wondering, that I am no mere youth. I'm 23 years old, and would like to consider myself above being classed as a youth. However, at the ripe age of 23, I contracted what is typically a disease of teens; mono. How utterly embarrassing.

If you're wondering how I managed to get mono, you will have to get in line. I've wracked my brain endlessly, trying to figure that mystery out. I've been scrutinizing all my friends, even mere acquaintances, to see if ANYONE within the past 6 weeks has shown any signs of having mono. No one in my recollection has been through what I have been though, these past three weeks. No one has taken ill, complained of headaches, fever, body pain, and most importantly, the dreaded sore throat that accompany symptomatic cases of mono. However, as everyone loves to remind me, many people can be carriers of mono and never know it. These people have no idea how lucky they are.

Three weeks ago, the Thursday before I was to attend Andie's going away party, I started to get a headache. It's important to note that I rarely get headaches, so when I do it's usually a sign of something bigger to come. I viewed my new found headache warily, wondering what it could mean. However, I was just starting my new job at Sobeys, and didn't have time to wonder too hard. I simply popped the Advil's every six hours, and fended it off that way. However, after the pills started to wear off, the headache would always return. This was especially odd, for me. I went to Andies party anyways though, headache temporarily suspended with my good friend Advil in tow, and had a fabulous time. However, the following morning, I woke up to extreme muscle pains in my arms. I chalked it up to sleeping on the floor though, and thought the headache that day was a result of alcohol overdosing. I drove home, and napped for the remainder of the weekend.

The entire week that followed the headache persisted, along with it's new friend muscle pain. Going to the gym became a huge struggle, and I started to feel lazy. I started to rationalize going to the gym every other day, instead of the typical every day. I tried to reason that maybe my muscles were being strained by being worked every day, and told myself that it was healthy to let them rest a day in between. However, I soon found my laziness spreading. I napped every afternoon, often for two or three hours. The headaches remained constant, unless I took daily doses of Advil. A nightly fever started to occur. I felt shittier and shittier as the days progressed.

Entering week two, my throat started to hurt. Bad. This was the last straw. I decided to see my doctor. I called to make an appointment, and was lucky enough to be admitted that day. He asked me about how I was feeling, so I explained to him my symptoms. His first question was "Do you find you're more tired lately?"
"Um...well I've been napping almost every day, now that I think about it..." I said reluctantly. I was unsure what he was getting at. I was pretty sure I had strep throat, the way my tonsils were swollen.
"Well...because you told me the sore throat came AFTER the headache and fever, I think you have mono," he said, point blank.
I stared at him in disbelief.
"How could I get mono?!" I asked, the shock and horror clear in my voice.
"It happens to a lot of people in the teens and twenties," he said, matter of factly.
I scowled, "I'm not a teen...." I said slowly, "but I am dating one...kind of..."
He grinned at me, impishly. I feel the need, at this moment, to mention that my doctor is extraordinarily hot. My mother, sister and I jokingly refer to him as Tillsonburg's McDreamy. He really is very very very attractive. When he gave me his mocking grin, I couldn't help but laugh.
"It kind of makes sense now..." I said.
He made me get on the counter-thing and hike up my shirt, so that he could feel my spleen. Apparently many people with mono get an enlarged spleen, which when hit could rupture. Luckily, mine was fine.
He sent me to the hospital to get my blood tested, to be absolutely sure.
A few hours later, he called me personally to break the news.
"I was right, you have infectious mono. That's what is making your tonsils so enlarged. Unfortunately, I can't give you anything for it, you just have to sleep it off, and drink lots of fluids"
Dejected, I thanked him for his time, and then hung up.

I then had the horrible task of informing ANYONE that I had kissed in the past while of my recent diagnosis. That didn't take long. I texted K to tell him. He seemed horrified. We texted back and forth for awhile, debating how I could have gotten mono. He remained adamant that it wasn't from him, and then started freaking about how if he got mono, all his friends would get mono "because they shared drinks all weekend". What a spit whore.

In all honesty, the way he's reacted over this whole mono thing has really put a lot of things in perspective for me. He's been friendly enough, when he's accidentally ran into me working at Sobeys since I told him, but otherwise he's been super distant, if not a little cold. Just goes to show how immature he is, and how little I really matter to him at all. It's definitely pulled me out of my disillusioned crush on him, and put me back in reality. He was never interested in me above using me for my awesomely good body, and the awesomely good sex I could provide him with. Plus I was older, and way hot. He stood to gain a lot by having a sexual relationship with me, but little else. He got what he wanted, clearly. I guess I got what I wanted to...a hot little fling with a sexy young boy. But now that the chips have fallen, and I've seen him for what he really is, I can finally get over feelings I may have had for him. He's just a stupid selfish kid....but I was even stupider to think I felt something for him. I'm almost relieved to have an excuse to end it. However, I think I still may be weak, because a part of me knows that after I'm better, if he asks for a booty call, I will likely give it. It can't really be helped. I'm still pretty physically attracted to the kid. He's effing hot, what can I say...and who am I to deny myself sex? I'd rather sleep with him again, than waste my time trying to sleep with someone else in this pathetic town, for the brief period that I'm still here. So if he comes a-knocking, I won't throw him out of bed.

Anyways, I digress. The past few days have been total fell for me. My tonsils got so swollen and sore, that I could not even swallow my own spit. Sunday morning I woke up at 4 am, sobbing and laying in my spit-drenched pillow. I went downstairs and sucked on ice cubes until my Mom came down at 8, and told me to go to the ER. Reluctantly I did. I didn't want to waste any ones time with my pathetic tonsils, and yet I also couldn't tolerate the pain any longer. I sat there, in the empty ER for about half an hour before a doctor came to see me. I asked a few hurried questions, didn't even look in my mouth, and wrote a prescription for a mouthwash that would numb my tonsils until they got better on their own.
"We can't do anything for mono" he told me, the anger very evident in his voice.
I choked back my tears, as I tried to explain that coming to the ER was a desperate move, by someone in pain. However, because my tonsils were so swollen, I could hardly talk. I made some gurgling noises, tears streaming down my face.
He looked at me, with a mixture of pity and anger, handed my the prescription, and told me to have a nice day.

I walked home feeling like a leech on society...I had dreaded wasting time, and I felt like I had. But I clutched the prescription like my life depended on it. It was my only hope of escaping the pain. I filled it as soon as the drugstore opened, and quickly gargled with the green liquid. It helped a little, but not nearly as much as I had hoped. I spent all day Sunday in an exhausted stupor, going to bed at 10.

I woke up this morning, after my first full night of sleep in a week. My tonsils, while still swollen, felt a little less painful. I didn't feel tired at all. Things appear to be on the upswing (knock on wood). I can only hope that things will start to clear up, because I honestly cannot take another week of this. Mono is the worst illness I have ever had, to date. It's been so painful, and the doctors have been kind of dick headed in telling me there is nothing they can do for me. Mono is just something your body has to fight on its own, which is a rare thing in this overly medicalized age. I can only HOPE and PRAY that you never get it, because it is truly a miserable thing to have.

I just hope my time with it is at an end...

Cheers!

On Conversing With An English Bloke and My Dilema

2008-06-26T18:22:00.000-07:00

So I mentioned earlier how I rejoined the Myspace community right? Well, being the slightly shy person that I am, I had a really hard time of going about actually FINDING British people to add on there as my friends. I know that Myspace is a lot less formal than Facebook, in terms of adding friends. In fact, it's probably the most informal social networking site ever, because the privacy restrictions are few and far between. Anyone can find you, really. They may not be able to search your real name, but they can do a browse of your profile through proximity...the whole postal code thing. Anyways, I've been on there for a few weeks now I think, and just recently I was able to add my 28th friend. Big deal, I know. Try to contain your awe at what a social butterfly I am.

Anyways, one of the first messages that I received was from this rather quiet looking, unassuming English guy. His initial message said something about how he doesn't often stumble across Canadian people moving to England, looking for friends, and thought that he would drop me a polite hello. Based on my previous Myspace experience, which involved a lot of disgusting messages from perverts, this message was quite fresh and light. I decided to take him up on his polite offer, and messaged him back. After a few days of messaging back and forth that way, he asked how he could find me on Facebook today. I explained that, as a teacher, no one can find me, but that I would be happy to find HIM if he would hit up me up with his full name and e-mail address. So five minutes later he provides me with this information, and I search and add him. We chat for a bit using the extremely lame Facebook chat feature, and then I suggest moving to MSN (a logical progression). So we add each other to MSN, and continue our chat there. I must say, this fellow has turned out to be a very welcome addition to my life, thus far!! He is very very helpful about ANYTHING that I ask him about England! I was so afraid that people would find my ignorance on living in England annoying, but he really doesn't seem to detest my curiosity! He even gave me a bunch of different websites to visit, in terms of finding housing, or finding a room in a house with roomies (he told me his friend used the site, and is quite happy where he is living because of it), or even getting a cell phone!! I am so excited to go now! I almost feel as if I have a friend already!!

In fact, he told me today that, by some weird coincidence, he happened to book his holidays (he did this ages ago, apparently) the week of my arrival! Fabulous! He told me that if I wanted someone to show me around Cambridge, he'd be more than happy to do that! AND he said he's a history geek like me, and that if I ever wanted a buddy on my lame history trips around England, he'd accompany me.

Now, I am sure some of you are thinking this is all rather strange. However, I don't think it is at all. Before I went to Thunder Bay, I was chatting to people in my program on Facebook before I even met them as well. In fact, I was invited to a party before I even LEFT for Thunder Bay (via Facebook). I ended up going to the party, on my SECOND night in the city, without knowing WHO would even really be there...and it turned out really well! The people that I met at that party were the people I hung out with for the rest of my time in Thunder Bay. So clearly, in my experience, it is worthwhile to go out on a limb and try to meet new people. Just make sure you've got an exit strategy, in case it turns out to be weird! HA! Although, I usually don't let things get weird, because even though I may be shy, I try to be as friendly as possible in all situations, which tends to diffuse a lot of sticky, awkward situations. I'm pretty good at pretending to not be shy, and fitting in with new crowds.

I think I will continue to befriend Chris, because he seems like a genuinely nice person. If I keep chatting with him, up until my departure, I will definitely arrange to get his number from him, so that we can meet up when I arrive in Cambridge. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, during my first week, because it could get kind of lonely and scary otherwise. He can also show me around the countryside where I will be working, so that I get acquainted with the area before I have to start teaching. I don't see anything bad about this! But...then again, I am a very trusting person, so perhaps someone with a more cynical outlook would disagree with me.

He also kind of reminds me of...and please don't punch me when I say this...Adam. He has the same look about him. Although he's much edgier...I mean, he has a tattoo on his arm, and he dresses much trendier. A bit "scene", if you ask me, but I kind of dig that. NOT that I am looking at this in a romantical sort of light. I assure you I am not. Although, I wouldn't stop anything from happening, once I arrived, if that's the way the cookie crumbled. However, I am NOT implying that I WANT the cookie to crumble that way. I don't. If the world were a perfect place, K would fall madly in love with me and want to stick it out for a year, or something. HAHAHA! Man, even just writing that I realized how completely far fetched and ridiculous that scenario is. HA HA HA! Oh man, I don't really even WANT that, I don't think. God. I want K to fall madly in love with me NOW...and they cry when I leave...but I honestly want it to end there. Honestly. I want to go to England with a fresh slate. No men in sight, so that I may wine and dine (eat fish and chips and drink pints) with Britain's finest and sexiest. Mmmmmm.

Ha ha ha. I'm honestly laughing in my head right now at the fact that I wrote down that outlandish suggestion. Ri-god-damn-diculous.

Oh, I've got other news to blabber about. Alright. This may be news to you Andie, but it probably isn't...either way, don't be mad. Alright. So here's the background story:

I've got this friend, Greg (yep....you know where this is going, don't you). I had a crush on him when I first met him. This was back when I worked at Roots. At the time, he was living with my Boss. Anyways, whatever, nothing ever came of that, and I didn't particularly want it to. Last summer, he had a mega crush on Andie (at least, that was my opinion of the situation...cuz he was always trying to get in her bed, lol), so he was around the house a lot. The three of us had a bunch of movie and junk food nights, strictly on a friendly level. Fine by me. I was seeing someone at the time anyways, who I was really into at the time. All was well. Then I went up to Thunder Bay, had to break it with the boy. C'est la vie. Greg goes off to college, and must have gotten REALLY bored, because he started to message me on MSN more. So we had lots of conversations, and kind of developed a pretty solid girl-guy friendship. He would ask me advice on girls, and I would ask him advice on guys. Turned out we were very similar, when it came to relationships; we hit a stumbling block after a certain period of time, where we became really disinterested in the person we were with, and ended up breaking their hearts. We had a lot of conversations talking about what this meant, mostly debating whether or not were were datable people. We still haven't really come to a solid conclusion on that...though he likes to say that we're just picky, and when the right person comes along we won't get sick of them after an unspecified amount of time. He's probably got a point there.

Anyways, our talking eventually lead to flirting, as it always does. When I came back to Guelph in the fall, Andie had a party welcoming me back, in which I ended the night by totally leaving with Greg. I lied and said nothing happened, but it had to be pretty obvious that we banged. Sorry. I guess I was ashamed that it happened, for whatever reason. At the time, I chalked it up to drunkeness, and vowed that it wouldn't happen again. Greg and I talked about it, and we both agreed that it was just two friends banging.

So I go back to Thunder Bay, we resume our friendly/flirty banter. I return south again. (This is the part you might NOT be aware of Andie.) My first weekend back, I plan to go to Guelph again, to have yet another welcome back party. The only difference THIS time is that, prior to my return, there was some serious serious dirty talk going on between Greg and I. So, I decide that prior to going to Guelph for the evening, I am going to drive to Toronto for the day, hang out with Greg, and then bring him with me back to Guelph for the party. We work out the details, and it's done. I'm not even going to lie, the sex we had was fucking mind blowingly amazing. Best sex ever. We both decide not to tell anyone, because it could potentially get weird...and besides, we'd both agreed that it was mostly friends-with-benefits sex. Just really good friends-with-benefits sex. Ha ha! Anyways, he came and partied with us again, and I ended up bringing him back with me to Andies (SO EMBARRASSING) where we had more drunken friends-with-benefits sex. And it was just as good. Again, sorry Andie. That futon was a nasty sex machine, and you know it. HA HA!

THEN the NEXT time I came up, he was in Guelph again, and yet again we had wickedly awesome friends-with-benefits sex. Fucking amazing stuff. Ha ha!

Anyways, this weekend I am going to Guelph again, and am super amped for it. Greg is also going to be there, which is totally fine. We're still friends, just friends. I talk to him ALL THE TIME about the situation with K, getting his advice and feedback. He helps me realize I'm being a stupid girl, and most of the time decodes K's retarded behaviour (they're very similar in personality, and age ha ha ha!). However, last weekend I had a bit of a spazz out concerning K, and I vented to Greg. He talked me through it, and was a very good friend....I was seriously being a fucking idiot. I can't even get into detail about how STUPID I was being...If I had been Greg, I would NOT have put up with my bitching. Anyways, he did, and he talked me out of my retardardness.

Well...today I was talking to him, after a brief hiatus, and he told me that since he put up with my bullshit on the weekend, I owed him a kiss. Huh. I thought that was kind of...odd. However, I told him that a kiss was pretty innocent, and that I could give him that. Then he told me that if I wanted to gain back his respect, I'd have to do a lot more than that. I asked him what he meant, and he said it depended on what rules I wanted to set. Things were getting decidedly more flirty. However, feeling rather flirtatious, I told him that I really only needed to have "moderately good rules, since I'm technically still single". Gulp. Anyways, it kind of went back and forth this way, until he said something about how I couldn't get pouty this weekend. I replied by saying that I was bringing my party panties, so no pouting would take place. He replied by saying that if I wanted help losing the party panties, I could holler at him (or something to that effect). I said I would keep him in the loop.

Ugh. I have no idea what I am doing. I like K. I like K a lot. However, I really feel like he doesn't like me NEARLY as much as I like him. And Greg made a good point the other day, saying that I put K on a pedestal, when he doesn't even deserve to be on one. I mean, I am not a pedestal for K. If he has me on a pedestal, he is VERY good at acting like he doesn't. He doesn't seem the least bit concerned about not seeing me this weekend, and hasn't really even made any sort of gesture to show that he wants me to be a "good girl" this weekend in Guelph. You know, most boyfriends would say something like "Don't let too many guys hit on you" or something, right? Not K. He could care less. I don't think he would cheat on ME,but then again...who the hell knows. Maybe he would. Obviously I don't want to cheat on him either...but then again, would it even be cheating? I mean, he said we are "something" (direct quote), but he never explained what the something is. We've never had a talk about what we are, about the rules of our relationship, or even if this IS a relationship. It's just "something". I don't even know what that MEANS!? Can you cheat on "something", or are the lines of "something" so fluid that there isn't really any line to cross? I honestly cannot predict how I will act on Saturday. A part of me wants to just give in to the awesome (its sooo good, honestly)friends-with-benefits sex....because it really would just be meaningless sex between two friends. I have absolutely no romantic feelings for Greg. I can say that honestly, and with a straight face (so no worries there, Andie). I DO have feelings for Kyle though...but I don't know if I can trust them. I don't know if it's worth the effort, because I'm leaving, and he's leaving, and at the moment he fails to want to recognize this as anything more than "something". I'm so conflicted...it's ridiculous.

Anyways, I wanted to give the full scope of the situation so that people could comment....tell me what you think I should do. Be a good girl, or be a good girl gone bad? (Just so you know, I'm leaning towards the former...I will more than likely forgo the amazingly good friend sex, because my feelings for K are pretty strong...as much as I wish they weren't, since I seriously doubt he feels the same way about me)

On The Good Times and the Bad

2008-06-23T19:52:00.000-07:00

This weekend was a mixture of both good and bad.

Friday night was deemed Ladies Night, so Sheena, Holly and I headed over to our friend Meaghans to have some fruity drinks before hitting the pub. We started drinking around 8, and by 10:30 I was feeling pretty buzzed. So I did the only logical thing, and I texted K. We got our text message flirt on, and I let slip (on purpose) that my parents were out of town for the night. With this knowledge in mind, he proposed that we meet up later in the night for a throwdown, which I was more than willing to agree too. So all the ladies pack into Meaghans car, which she has named Hank, and we head downtown.

Well...downtown is a total letdown. It's deader than I have ever seen it. There were maybe 10 people in the pub, which is usually pretty jamming. I quickly text K and tell him not to bother going downtown, since it's boring as hell. He texts me back, inviting me to come hang out with him and his buddies for awhile. My sister, meanwhile, has met up with her twenty-something play toy, and is more than happy to leave me to my own devices. Apparently I wasn't the only one who wanted to take advantage of the absense of the parentals. (Isn't it sad that we're in our mid twenties and have to have secret rendevous when our parents aren't home?!)

So I hop a cab to where K is, and join in the drinking going on there. After about an hour, I wink at K, and he suggests we call a cab. Ten minutes later, we're back at my place, rushing upstairs to my room. I push him onto my bed, and promptly tell him to undress. He protests, saying that I should undress first, so I do. Then I repeat that he MUST undress....
"My house, my rules" I say, as sexily as I can.
I'll spare you the rest of the steamy details, except to say that it was well worth the two week wait. ;)

After, we're laying in my bed, talking. It's so carefree and easy to talk to him, and we talk about just about everything, for about another hour. Then he starts to doze off, so I let him. At about 5am (this is a guess) I feel him wrap his arms around me, and he starts to kiss me on the neck. I turn around, and he kisses me on the mouth, which leads to the most impromptu round two I've had in awhile! It was kinda nice. After, we sleep again until my alarm goes off at 6:45...he had to work Saturday morning, so I took him to work, and then came back home to go to bed. All in all, it was a pretty solid evening.

Saturday night was the wedding. He calls me at 5, saying he will be at my house momentarily. Luckily I was ready for him! And, I thought, I was looking quite pretty. So we head to the LCBO, where I help him pick out a bottle of wine for the bride and groom, and then we head to the wedding. It was the most casual wedding I have ever been to, and I can sadly admit that I was the most overdressed person there...and I was only in a 35 dollar dress! However, the high heels really put me over the top. How embarrassing. Luckily for me, K's two girl friends that were there were also wearing dresses (with flats), so I wasn't totally out in left field. Drinking started right after, which was around 7. Everyone proceeded to get shit faced at an alarming rate, myself included. We were all sitting in a circle, chatting away, when I heard someone say to K "Is SHE with YOU?"
"Yah man..." I heard K reply.
Turning around, I state that I can hear them talking about me.
The unknown guy laughs and says, "Sorry, I just couldn't believe that K could get someone as hot as you to date him....I mean....wow"
I blushed, and K beamed. This seems to be a standard thing around here.
I turned away at this point, to let the two boys debate my hotness, and to let K gloat a bit in his being able to obtain me.

At around 9, Candice and her man Eric disappeared. She returned a half hour later, laughing that her and Eric just had sex in his truck, and immediatly after he had to throw up outside. He ended up driving home (bad idea, because he was slammed) to sleep it off. We didn't see him for the rest of the night. Meanwhile, K wasn't doing much better himself. It also started to rain. Did I mention it was an outdoor wedding, with no tent? Yah. So everyone tried to huddle around the ONE small patio umbrella that was around. Lucky for me, K had snagged a seat directly under it, and he motioned for me to come sit on his lap and stay dry. So I happily sat on his lap for awhile, while he rubbed my back.

After awhile, the rain let up, so we went and sat on a swinging chair. K motions for me to come in for a whisper, and tells me that he's seeing double, and he wants to go lay down for awhile. It's about 9:45 at this point. Concerned, I ask him if he wants to lay down in his friend McKenna's car. He nods. I get the keys, and take him to the car. He lays down in the back seat, and tells me to come wake him up in an hour.

An hour and a half goes by, and I go to check on him. He says he still feels like he is going to throw up, and he is still dead tired. He says he was up late with me the night before, and it's hitting him hard. I feel bad, so I climb into the back with him and let him rest his head on my lap. I rub his back, and run my fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. Then I sit there, wondering what to do for about half an hour. Eventually, McKenna comes, thinking we're doing shit in his car. He's happy to see that we're not, ha ha! Eventually he gets me to come out of the car, and I return to drink until around 11:30. Then Candice decides she wants to go downtown. Thinking this is my opportunity to wake up K, I agree. So we head to McKenna's car, and drive to where Kyle's car is parked (I need to get my ID from his car). K gets out, saying he just wants to keep sleeping in his van. I try to convince him to come out, even for a little while, but he keeps saying he is just so tired. He really does look exhausted, and I feel bad because I am the reason he was up so late. He hugs me, kisses me, and tells me he's sorry, but that he just really needs to sleep. So I grab my purse, give him a peck, and then storm off saying "FINE" in that loud, angry girl voice that we all get. The one where its not really fine, but the guy is so stupid he thinks it is. So he gets into the van, and we head downtown.

Well...I can't have a good time downtown, cuz I just miss K, and I'm kinda pissed that I didn't get to hang out with him much due to his drunkeness/tiredness. All of his guy friends razz him in his absense, calling him a pussy, and moaning about how he left his pretty girlfriend high and dry. A few of them try to call him, but either he turned off his phone, or it died. It turned out to be the latter. Anyways, at 1:30 I figure I'd had enough. I ask McKenna if he will drop me off at Kyle's van, so I can check on him before going home. He agrees. As we get to the van, he asks me if I want him to stick around until I'm done, or if I will be okay. I tell him to take off, cuz I'm not sure how long K might need me to stay...if he's getting sick, I don't want to leave him. So I wave goodbye to McKenna and head towards the van.

When I open the door, I can't see K.
"K?" I call into the darkness.
Nothing.
"K? Are you okay?!?!" I ask, a bit louder.
I hear a mumble of yes.
"Do you want me to take you home? I can drive now..."
A mumble of no.
"Do you want anything? Water? Food? A blanket? Pillow?"
Another mumble of no.
"Okay...." I pause for about two minutes, unsure of what to do. "I'm...going to walk home now..." I say tentatively.
I hear him move, and then hear him mumble something...but I can't make it out. I close the door, cursing under my breath, and walk home.

The next day, I have a bit of a freak out, because I texted him in the morning asking how he was, and get nothing. That's not like him. He always has his cell on him, and is prompt in his replies. I start thinking of all the bad things that could happen...like maybe he's mad that I was too nice, or thinks I'm clingy for going to check on him...or any number of things. Eventually I find out his battery died....so it was stupid to worry. He finally texts me at 9pm and says he is sorry for last night. I tell him it's not a big deal.

All is well.

I'm hoping to see him Friday night, since Saturday night I will be in Guelph and he will be in London. It's a shame he can't come with me to Guelph, because I really wanted him to meet Andie, Rachelle, and my other friends, and this would probably be the only opportunity for that. Oh well...I guess it wasn't meant to happen.

That's all for now!

Cheers!

On Finding a Summer Job

2008-06-19T17:12:00.000-07:00

I've finally managed to find summer employment! I couldn't be happier, because it was imperative that I have some money coming in. At the end of the month, I have to go to Toronto to apply for my visa, and in order to obtain it, I have to prove I have sufficient funds to sustain myself for a month or two. I was told that $3,000 would be about the amount needed. I don't have $3,000. I don't even have $3. I'm not even lying. I wish I was! Instead, what I plan to do is move $3,000 from my line of credit, and try to pass that off as real coin when I go for the appointment. I'm a bit nervous to to go the bank and try to get them to print me a statement saying I have $3,000. We'll see. I may go plead my case to them; tell them that I will be bringing in around $48,000 dollars in a years time. But, in order to do so, I have to get to England, which means I have to move that $3,000. If they refuse to print me a statement saying I have the $3,000, for whatever reason, I'm going to move it anyways and print off the page online...not sure how legit that would be viewed as, by the people processing my Visa...but if it comes down to that, I will attempt it. Anyways, I need a summer job so that by the end of August I can have the $2,000 debt I have paid off, so that I can actually switch the $3,000 over and KEEP it there...and then slowly pay it off while I'm overseas. Ugh. Does that make ANY sense? I am bloody awful, I know. It is ridiculous.

Anyways, I probably shouldn't be talking too much about money on here. That's a rather personal topic.

So the new job is at the local Sobeys. I'm not sure where I will be working yet, but it's going to be cash, deli, or produce. The manager is going to call me on Saturday to let me know where she wants to start me, and what day. She told me sometime next week I can start. What a load off. I need the money like nobodies business. I'll have to be sure to book off June 30th as soon as I can...that's the day I have to take in all my paperwork for the Visa. I will lie and say I have wedding that day. I will start right off the bat requesting ONLY that day off, for the entire summer. I will work the rest, no problem. Or at least, I will try.

I'm sure the new job will afford much more to write about in here; there's always stuff going on at work!! I will meet new people, maybe make some new friends, and almost certainly experience some workplace drama. Hurray, can't wait to be a working girl again!

On the plus side, I spoke with K last night on MSN, and found out I am still invited to the wedding this weekend...or at least the reception and drinking that will take place after. I am totally fine with that, since I would feel a bit out of place at the actual wedding anyways, considering I don't know the bride or groom. I just know the grooms son...and am banging the grooms sons' friend. Heh heh. Apparently it's going to be tented sleepover, the night of. I must admit that I am excited about that, because it means (hopefully) a tent for K and myself....which means (hopefully) some time to throw it down. We haven't been able to have a romp in two weeks, and frankly I am ridiculously...amorous...if you catch my drift. I am going to be on him like spots on a dice. He better not get WD (Whiskey Dick) or anything of the like. No excuses! I need to get some, asap! Ha ha ha!

In other news, I've also rejoined Myspace....I've been a bit more secretive this time though, not using my real name. So hopefully I won't run into any problems, like I did last time. Anyways, the reason I did it was to kind of scope out the scene around Cambridge, so I can kind of get a feel for the types of people that live there. I've only added, and subsequently talked to, one guy from Cambridge since I re-inserted myself into the Myspace community. Being the picky person that I am, he's very hot. Ha ha ha. And, some of you might be happy to read this, he is 25. I don't think I will allow my penchant for young men to accompany me to England. I think I'm learning a valuable lesson here now, with my "Summer of Twenty". It won't be something I seek to do again...the maturity difference is startling at times. In England I will be sure to find men that are closer to my age and maturity level. Although, I could argue that no mature man exists, anywhere....so it may just be a hopeless search. But I digress. I've added this sexy Brit in the hopes that I might be able to get some valuable information about living and playing in and around Cambridge. And who knows...maybe I can make a friend out of him, in real time. You gotta start somewhere!

Well, I'm off for now!

Cheers

On Feeling Down In The Dumps (In Brief)

2008-06-18T09:02:00.000-07:00

I don't really feel like I have the time, or the engery, to go into an elaborate blog today. However, I feel like I have been neglecting writing in here lately, and its not for a lack of time. More likely, it is a lack of effort. I've been so down in the dumps lately, that I just don't feel I can exert myself to come on here, and spill the beans. I also must admit that I feel some shame in myself, since most of what I would complain about is petty and irrational. All of it, I might add, has to do with the boy.

You see, I thought things were going pretty well with K. His friends all gushed about how he liked me, and how he hasn't been "this into a girl" in years. I couldn't have been happier to hear this news, and for awhile it put me in good spirits. However, his actions did not betray his feelings to me. While he still invites me out with him and his buddies at least one day per weekend (I should stress that I never see him during the week. I always rationalize to myself that he's a busy boy; he works all day, bikes a lot of nights, and he doesn't live in the same town as me. These are my excuses for his not wanting to see me during the week...). He used to make an effort to message me once a day on Facebook, MSN, or via text messaging. I say used to though, because the past two weeks have seen a decline in any outreach on his part towards me. No more Facebook messages, very little MSN chat (he's rarely even on), and I have to instigate all the text messaging. It's frustrating, because I have this dull but persistant feeling that perhaps he is growing tired of me. I've been in his shoes before, and I know how it goes down. I haven't been the one to get the shaft in years though...and I must admit that it hurts more than I had anticipated.

That said, I could also be acting very "girlish" in jumping to this conclusion. We had a talk on Friday, where he told me that he's just not the best at committments (typical red flag, I am aware), and that he's always been a bit "chill" in his relationships. Casual is just who he is, and I should get used to it. I am constantly trying to keep this in mind, but I can't help but doubt the validitiy of his statements. I think for the right girl, he'd smarten up. Clearly I'm not that girl. If I am, he's got a lot of learning to do, because his actions sure do serve to push me away. He told me he likes me, and wants to keep seeing me...so maybe I should just take a chill pill, and take this thing at face value. It won't go anywhere past September, and this I already know. Even if I wasn't leaving for England, I wouldn't let him go into his first year of College with a girlfriend. That's just not fair to him; he needs to be totally free to have fun. So this thing was going to have a time limit, no matter what. That said, I can't help the feelings I have for him. I am rational enough to know I have to let go in September, and I don't forsee a problem there at all. I'm looking forward to going to England and meeting a lot of hot English men, and getting my mad flirt on. I will be bringing my A game, to be sure. I'm not worried about September. However, I am worried about now. I like him now. I want to hang out with him, now. I want to do crazy things to his body, cuz I find him irresistable (very very attracted to the kid, what can I say). I dunno why he can't be down with that...more often ha ha ha!

Ah well...he invited me to go to a wedding with him this weekend. Although...I am having doubts about it. You see, he asked me when he was drunk, and I'm not sure if, sober, he means it. I am too afraid to ask him if he still wants me to come...so I am waiting for him to give me some more information. I went and bought a modest (35 dollar) dress for the event. It's super casual, nothing special, but I still want to look good (for him). I don't really want the dress to go to waste...although if I don't go to the wedding, I could always wear it next weekend when I go to Andie's Goodbye party...so I suppose not all is lost. Anyways, hopefully his invitation as sincere. If it is, its a step in the right direction. I will feel a lot more secure, knowing that he wants me around for these kinds of things.

I like him a lot, and it's driving me crazy, cuz I just want to know he likes me back. Security until September would be fabulous. I don't think that is a lot to ask, but perhaps it is...

We'll talk later...

Cheers

On Going to England

2008-06-04T18:59:00.000-07:00

...Cambridgeshire to be exact. That's right. In three short months, I will be jumping across the pond and becoming a twenty-something Canadian girl in Britain. Following in the tradition of Carson's before me (namely my father), I am heading to the motherland in pursuit of a job. And possibly a man. Ahaha. Just kidding on the latter. *wink wink*

Today I formally accepted a position in a school small village outside Cambridge. The population is small indeed, but the school has children bused in from 5 neighbouring communities, which allows it to boast a student population that is half the size of the village itself. It's quaint, to be sure. I've been doing some brief research around the area, trying to figure out where I want to live, and have fallen upon two choices; the city of Cambridge itself, which is known for its rather old and prestigious University, and the bustling town of St. Ives. I highly suggest you do a google search on St. Ives, Cambridgeshire, if you're interested in seeing where I am going. It looks like a gorgeous little town, one that would suit me quite well. It's also a bus ride away from Cambridge, which is, in turn, a bus ride away from London. I'm sure there are trains too, that could take me anywhere I desire. Ah, what my weekends will soon be filled with...

This isn't to say the entire trip is going to be a vacation. On the contrary, I was hired to fill a maternity leave, and therefore teaching will be my main priority. I will be entrusted with four (I believe it is four, but we shall soon see the exact number) English classes in a secondary school. Secondary schooling in England is quite different than what we have here. The students enter high school when they are 11, and only have to attend until they are 16. If they want to continue, they have to write an exam called the GCSE, which allows them to continue for two more years in more of a college/university streamed, vocational school. It's still part of the public education system, but it is a much more streamlined program, where the students take classes in what they hope to take in post-secondary education. It's rather like the CGEP system in Quebec.

The school I was hired with is also one of the top ranked academic schools in the country. Impressive, I know. In fact, I was told I am quite lucky, because most Canadian teachers get thrust into rather "difficult" classes, mostly in inner-city London. Frankly, I am relieved to have gotten this opportunity. Apparently the only reason I was offered the job was because I was highly recommended by Derek, the cute old man that interviewed me in Toronto last week. Thank you Derek!!! I am overjoyed to be able to have this experience, and am looking forward to it immensely.

Naturally though, I have some hesitations. I am sad to be leaving my friends and family behind. I worry that they will move on without me. I don't want to come back to find myself no longer a part of their tight-knit circle. I worry about losing my place in their hearts and minds! I know this is silly, and unfounded, but it still is a doubt that exists in my mind. I love my friends and family dearly, and being away from them will be the hardest part of going. I can only hold onto the fact that I will be back at Christmas break for sure, and will be in constant contact with them online, and otherwise. I think letter writing may be brought back for this occasion. Who doesn't enjoy a good transcontinental pen pal? I also have the difficult decision of figuring out when to tell K. Frankly, I don't want to tell him any time soon, because I am afraid that he will decide to end things right now. I'm not sure exactly what is going on between him and I, but I do know that I like him a lot, and I don't want things to end now, just because I am leaving in three months. Three months is a long time, in some regards. I would like to continue seeing him while I am still here. It would be a shame to halt things now. As such, I've decided to wait until I am sure of his feelings for me. Once I get a clear read on what's going on, I will tell him. He's going to college in the fall, so I am hoping that he will agree to let things naturally progress until he and I both depart. Fingers crossed.

Anyways, that's all I really wanted to say right now. More to come later.

Cheers!

On Trying Not To Fall, But Falling Anyways

2008-06-02T15:55:00.001-07:00

Saturday night I got a text message from K, asking me if I wanted to hang out with him and his friends that night. I had committed myself to driving my sister and some of our friends to a Bonfire party, at the very least, so I told him that I might pop around some time after 10. I told him to text me when he got there, and I would see about heading over. Secretly I knew all along that I would go with him; I had to pick my brother up from work at 10, and which point I had planned to get him to drop me off at the party.

All went according to plan, and at 10:30 I was dropped off at the destination. I came downstairs, where the party was happening, and found a seat, thankfully, available next to K. I poured myself a stiff drink, and commenced the partying. Someone broke out a beer pong table, which they called "Water Ball" or something. Kids these days play the game differently than when I was a young lady. Ha. They filled all the cups with water, and then every time they sunk a ball, they had to do a shot. Similar, and yet not at all. I guess it makes sense to play that way, if you're not using beer. Anyways, K ended up playing a bunch of rounds, while I mingled and socialized with his friends. His one friend, Eric, who happens to have a girlfriend (it was her house we were at, actually) was hitting on me to the millionth degree. I was trying very hard not to be rude, cuz getting the approval of the friends is key, but it was very hard. I kept looking at K, to let him know I was all about him. He was looking pretty grumpy, and kept shooting his buddy some warning glances. I am fairly sure Eric was being harmless, but suffice it to say, K was unimpressed. I found out later that night that K had said something to Candice, the guys girlfriend, saying he had been a little more than jealous at Eric's actions. Anyways, the boys quickly abandoned their game of Water Ball, as they were getting too drunk, and settled for a game of Euchre. K indicated that he wanted me to join him in his seat, so I did. He also indicated he wanted a kiss, so I gave him one, to a bunch of "Ewwws" and other such comments. It was cute. Then his friend Paul asked if HE could kiss K. Laughing, I told him I was all for it. K, a bit of a homophobe (I am sad to admit) was against the idea, totally. After some convincing, in which I said that if he was secure with his sexuality it wouldn't bother him, he finally agreed to do it. I grabbed my camera, ready for the photo op of the century. However, just as they were about to meet, they both stuck their hands between their faces, and kissed hands. I snapped a picture of the post-kiss, with Paul laughing gleefully in my face. Nicely done, boys. I razzed them for leading me on. K grabbed me, and puckered his lips for another kiss.
"You really want one?" I asked.
He pouted, so I obliged.
Soon after, we prepared to head downtown.
During this time, for whatever reason, Paul decided to start ranting on about how "Beautiful" I was.
"K...your girl is absolutly beautiful. I mean, seriously. Wow. How did you do it? Gorgeous. Just gorgeous!" he gushed.
It was like he had just noticed me for the first time. It was a tad awkward, but I must admit I did enjoy K's reaction. He kinda puffed himself up, like most men do when they're proud, and winked at me. The compliments continued from Paul all night. Non-stop.

Downtown, we went to the Royal. It was a fairly busy night, though most of the clientele was K's age; younger than me. K asked me what I wanted to drink, so I told him, and then followed him to the bar. He ordered a drink for himself and I. The bartender looked at me, and asked me for my id. Letting out a loud sigh, I fished it out and handed it over. Funny how my man doesn't get id'd, and he's 19, but I do, and I am 23. Oh the injustices of it all. We grab our drinks, and find a table to sit down at. The rest of the group joins us. I sit on K's lap, for good measure. He rubs my leg, and I rest my head on his head. At this point, I get asked for id AGAIN. So I produce it AGAIN, while all K's friends giggle at the irony.

It's at this point that a bunch of random bimbo's decide to approach K. They're all tits and giggles, and vye hard for his attention. He chats to them, while I sit on his lap all the while, feeling like a third wheel. None of the numerous girls even ASK who I am...and frankly, K doesn't do much of a job of trying to introduce me. Although, it should be fairly obvious what my connection is with him...I AM sitting on his lap, afterall. However, I get a bit upset at this situation, and pull myself off him, stalking angrily to the bathroom. I am fuming, I must admit. I text my best bud, Andie, saying that I want to punch myself in the face. She calls me back, as I am peeing. Drunkely, I don't think twice about answering. I vent my frustrations to her, and she tells me I should go and kiss him in front of all the little girlies. I tell her I can't do that...but eventually I take her advice, and I do it. That teaches those idiots a lesson. They keep their distane the rest of the night.

The boys eventually go to play pool. I migrate over with the other two girfriends, Candice and Britt. We all kind of stand off to the side, watching our men play. I get a lot of stares, and more than a few fellows come upto flirt with me. One of K's friends comes up, and starts to talk with me.
"So, you're K's new girl, eh?" he asks.
"Yah, that'd be me," I reply.
"You're a cute little thing...K's a lucky guy!" he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me in for one of those bear hugs.
"Hey, pretend you're leavin with me, I wanna see what he does..." he says
Unsure, I resist.
"Come on!" he says, "Hey Dutch! We're leavin!" he yells to K.
K looks up, not looking too impressed.
I pull away from the guy, and try to laugh it off.
I saunter over to K, who is standing watchin is opponent make a shot. I wrap my arms around his waist, and give him a quick peck on the neck.
"All my friends are hittin on you tonight, eh?" he asks, with a hint of jealousy in his voice.
"Aw, babe, you know I've only got eyes for you" I say (or something damn near close).
He grins, and squeezes my hands. I back off so he can continue playing.
At this point, Candice takes me aside, to give me a pep talk. She tells me that K really likes me, cuz he NEVER invites girls out with them. Then she says that she thinks he is going to make it official soon, but that he's a bit worried about scaring me off, since I'm older. She also says he hasn't had a real girlfriend since he was in grade 9, so that could also play a part in why he seems so awkward and distant sometimes. Grateful for her candid advice, I thank her profusely.
Not too long after that, we leave.
K grabs my hand, as we are leaving the bar, and we walk out hand in hand. As we're walking towards Pizza Pizza, for a post-bar bite to eat, some guy walking towards us points at me, and calls me a bitch. K freaks out.
"What did you call her?" he asks the guy.
The guy stops walking, and looks at me, then at K.
"Oh shit dude, sorry, I didn't mean it. I meant that other chick down there...stay away from that bitch..."
"No. You called her a bitch. She is not a bitch. You don't call her a bitch..." he says, giving the guy a shove.
"I didn't call her a bitch..."
"Yah you did. I heard you call her a bitch, and no one calls my girl a bitch. She is not a bitch. She's the furthest thing from a bitch..."
Throughout all this, I am cowering behind Paul, trying to catch K's hand to pull him away.
"You apologize to her right now, you asshole!" K is saying.
The guy wheels over to me, looking pretty terrified, and says he is sorry. I say it's no problem, and then grab K's hand and start to lead him away.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I just did not like hearing him call you a bitch!"
"It's okay, hun..." I say, squeezing his hand.

More drama takes place at Pizza Pizza too. K's friend Paul is shit faced, and decides he wants to fight someone. His gaze rests on my sister's boss, also named Paul, who is dating the girl my sister works with. I'd met him once before (I believe I blogged about him once) at the Royal. He comes up to me, and gives me a hug. Then he proceeds to hit on me. Luckily, K is up getting pizza and doesnt' hear anything. Paul does. He stares the guy down, until finally he leaves. K comes back with the pizza, and Paul tells him that he wants to fight the guy. I convince him to let it go, though. On our way out, the other Paul calls me over, and gives me a big hug.
"Don't let him treat you bad," he says, looking at K.
K stares at him hard, his face all business.
"I won't..." I say awkwardly. I can see K's friend Paul chompin at the bit to punch the guy, so I steer him out of the store, hoping K will follow. He doesn't.
I push Paul outside, and look back at K. He's leaning against the counter, talking to Paul, looking like business. Eventually he comes out.
"What was goin on with you guys?" I ask him.
"Oh, I was just letting him know I'm with you. I don't like that guy..." he says.
"I want to fight the asshole," Paul says.
"Let it go, guys," I say. I decide not to tell them that he was hitting on me. Not until we get into the car, and are on our way back to Candices. When I do spill the beans, Paul is furious.
"Dude, he was hitting on your girlfriend. Let's go back. I want to beat the shit outta that guy!"
"No, it's not worth it! He's a loser," I say.
K is silent. I grab his hand, and he looks back at me (I am in the back, he is in the front) and smiles. All is well.

So we go back to Candices, have a few more drinks, and then crash on the couch. K is about to pass out, but I am feeling frisky. I get busy with my hands, while kissing his neck. It doesn't take long at all to get a response from him, but we can't do too much cuz Paul is on the other couch. I whisper in his ear that he should meet me in the bathroom in a few minutes, and then climb off of him. He joins me in two minutes, and we proceed to have the most wild makeout-sex fest I've ever had. It was a pretty big bathroom, and we did it on every surface. Delightful, I must say. Then we went into Candices room, as she decided to sleep in her mom's bed, and cuddled up for the night.

All in all, it was a pretty solid Saturday evening. I also gained some confidence on our relationship. All night his friends were referring to me has his girlfriend, and he never once corrected them. I also called him my boyfriend, once, to Paul (my sisters boss) within earshot of the OTHER Paul, and wasn't corrected on that. So...things appear to be going well. I am happy, which is a good thing, cuz I haven't been in awhile.

We'll see how it goes.

On Swooning Over British Boys and BMX'ers

2008-05-29T16:39:00.000-07:00

So! Today I had my interviews for teaching in England. The first interview was with Protocol Education, and it went decent enough. It was in Newmarket, in this really seedy suite on Leslie Street. I was a bit apprehensive when I entered the building, wondering what exactly I was getting myself into. However, the girl that greeted me was quite nice. She took me into her office, and we went over my resume and practicum information, and she asked me some basic questions. It was a little weird, because there was on one from England actually there to see me, it was just this Canadian woman, filling in this form when I spoke. At the end, she told me that she didn't think there would be any problems "placing me" in England, and that she'd e-mail me with the next step (and subsequent forms to fill out). I left feeling much more at ease about the interview process, but not entirely at ease about the idea of working with this company.

The second interview was downtown Toronto, so we took the 404 into the city. It was a quick drive, and we got there with an hour and a half to spare. So we (my Mom and Pops) walked around downtown, and grabbed a bite to eat. I had a Shawarma, some Lebanese wrap thing, and it was bloody delicious. Mmmm. However, it left me with rather bad (re: garlic) breath. Good thing there is this invention called "gum". Saved my life ha ha ha.

For the second interview, I had to go to the Sutton Place hotel, on Bay Street. I walked in, and went to the front desk to announce my arrival. I was told to have a seat on one of the over sized chairs, so I plunked my ass down, and tried to sit like a dainty lady-in-waiting. After about 10 minutes, my British twin (I kid you not, this lady looked just like me, only with an accent and bangs) came and introduced herself to me. She then walked me into another room, with a large puffy couch, and two comfy chairs. Sitting on the couch was the most ravishingly handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. Not a word of a lie. Then he opened his mouth, and let loose the most glorious British accented voice I've ever heard. His name, he said, was Wayne. We had been in contact over the weeks via e-mail. My mind reeled.
THIS was the face, the voice, behind the e-mails? This young, beautiful, man?
He was dressed in a white and pink striped shirt, with dark dress pants, and a lovely blue silk tie. His hair was dark dark brown, as were his eyes. He had it done in a very stylish, messy do. All in all, he looked professional, yet young and edgy. He also had great shoes on. And a killer smile. I was in love.
He stood to shake my hand, and then asked me to have a seat.
The girl, my twin Rachel, told me she would "fetch" me when Derek(the headmaster from England) was ready, and then ran off leaving me with Wayne.
For about half an hour he ran through how their company worked, and what they did for teachers from other countries. I drank in every word he said, loving the idea of going to England more and more. He made it sound so amazing, so easy, and so fun. He also told me that teaching there was no walk in the park, but that he'd be there to help me through it every step of the way, with weekly calls and visits.
"SIGN ME UP" I wanted to say. I held back my enthusiasm though, because I didn't want to scare him off. I just simply nodded to everything he said, and added a few witty comments here and there.
Then Rachel came, and whisked me away for the actual interview.
As we walked into the room, I saw yet another couch, and two more chairs. It was a theme, it appeared. An adorable old man was reclined on the couch, looking as comfortable as pie. He rose to shake my hand, and we all sat down. Throughout the interview, I couldn't help but marvel at how seamlessly easy it was going. I wasn't at a loss for an answer at any point, and at everything I said, Derek seemed to nod and smile as if I was speaking the word of God. At the end of the interview, he asked me if I had any questions for him. Of course I did! I had one great one.
"What, in your opinion, makes a successful teacher in England? What are you looking for?" I asked.
Without skipping a beat he replied, "I haven't a doubt in the world that you would make a successful teacher in my school, or any other in the U.K. I can honestly say that you would flourish in my school, and I have no doubts at all about your ability to be a success. You'd do wonderful things in England."
I was at a total loss of words. I thanked him profusely, and told him it was my pleasure to meet him, and it would be my pleasure to work for him, or any other headmaster, in England, should they want me. We shook hands, and I parted company.
Rachel took me back down to Wayne, who talked with me briefly again. He told me he would be in touch (ooo second date? ha ha ha, jokes), and wished me a safe journey home.

So, suffice it to say, I see England in my very near future. They told me to expect a call in a week or so. We shall see how it goes. Obviously I will keep you posted.

In other news, things with K are going fairly well. I have had a few girly moments of doubt, which are totally unfounded. Last weekend he invited me out with him and his friends, which went fabulously. Then last Saturday was his "guys night out". They went to the Turkey Point Hotel. I wasn't expecting to hear from him, but at 2 a.m. my phone rang. It was K! I was so excited, because a drunk dial at least means they're thinking about you! But it was better than that! They were coming to my HOUSE! My brother was having a Prom after party, and they figured they would crash it. So he came, and we chilled, and it was great. As they went to leave, he snuck me to the side of the log cabin.
"I couldn't leave without kissing you goodbye!" he said.
I melted! So we had a quick smooch-fest, and then I walked him to his car, and they all departed.

Tonight, we were texting back and forth. It was mostly harmless banter, about how his van had broken down. Don't laugh. He has a van because he is a pro BMXer, which means he has to have a vehicle to get the bike from place to place. Anyways, the steering is all messed up, so he has to use his dad's truck for awhile. I told him that one day I want a truck, because they are sexy. He replied by saying they ARE sexy, but they are expensive.
"Yah, but I will be making the big bucks" I said.
"Not me!" he replied.
"That's why you have to find yourself a sugar mama"
"I already have one"
"See? You're golden!"
"Do you even know who I am talking about?" he asked.
DUUUH! I thought...but decided to play along with it.
"No, is she smokin hot? She better be hot!" I said.
"Yah, she's hawt. Some teacher or something"
And so on and so forth. It was tres adorable, and was just what I needed. Lately I've been feelin as if he's kind of friend-vibing me. I don't want to be friended. Not yet.

He's so damn sexy. If I go to England, I am going to miss that boy. Maybe.

Cheers!

On Rocking The Young Vote

2008-05-20T17:41:00.000-07:00

So things with K just took a step forward. Last Friday, I was sitting on the front porch with Sheena, Holly, Meaghan, Daxton, and Zach. We're all drinking, and planning on hitting up the Mug at 11. Ten o'clock rolls around, and Sheena gets a call on her cell phone. It's K, and he's asking for me.
"Hey gorgeous," he says.
I swoon, instantly.
He asks me what I am doing, and I tell him that I'm drinking on the porch, and then planning on going to the Mug.
"Boo....we're going to Julianna's in Woodstock, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me?"
HELLS YAH I DO! I thought. Of course, I had to contain my glee, so I calmly told him I was down with that.
Thirty minutes later, he pulls up with a friend in this gorgeous truck (the friends), and we go to his friends place to have some more drinks.
I ended up playing pool with some of his friends, while he played Uker (how do you SPELL that??!) with some more. After two games of pool, I go sit on the edge of the couch he's sitting on. Their game is ongoing. He motions for me to sit beside him, so I move myself, and settle by his side. He rests an arm on my leg while he plays, rubbing my knee. I am in heaven. After they complete the game, we pile into a car, and the hosts mother drives us to Woodstock.

The entire way there, we make out. Don't be too grossed out; the van was full of two other couples, who were heavy petting way harder than our modest making out.

When we got to the bar, it was pretty dead, which was a bit of a bummer. Regardless, the drinks were $2.50, so we all got slammed, danced, and had a good time. At the end of the night, one of the girls mother, who happened to be at the bar, drove us home. We made out the entire ride home as well.

We got dropped off at K's house. His parents, luckily, were out of town for the long weekend. I stayed the night. Use your imagination. ;)

Saturday night I went to a friends BBQ just outside Port Burwell. This was a pretty fun outing as well, despite the fact that I didn't get drunk. I also managed to have a very eye-opening conversation with Aron and Brodie, Adam's two best friends. We had a chat about how we all wished that Adam and I could reconcile and be able to hang out as a group. They told me that they knew I was mature and "cool" now, and that they wouldn't have invited me to the party if they thought otherwise. I told them that (and this is the truth, I swear) I had no interest in Adam anymore. I admitted that I WILL always love him, but I am not IN love with him. I love him, but I don't want to be with him. They responded by saying that Adam didn't have any problems with me personally, but that he avoided me because Shona (his girlfriend) is uncomfortable with me being around his friends or him. Brodie and Aron both expressed concern for Shona feeling that way, saying they think she should get over it, because she is the only thing holding us all back from being friends. I told them that I wished I could just sit down with Adam and Shona and sort the whole thing out. Lay it all out on the table. Aron said he "could arrange it", and seemed to hope it would happen that night. Unfortunately Adam hadn't showed up by 11, and that was when we decided to leave the party. Ah well, perhaps they talked to him when he arrived, and maybe things will start to get better from here-on-in.

Sunday night Sheena, Holly, her brother Nick, and I went to the Turkey Point hotel. It had been my first night there, and I was fairly impressed with the place. It is quite large, and can hold a lot of people. It also drew in a large crowd of rather hot men. Mmmm. This could be an interesting place to go, come the dog days of summer. However, we didn't stay long, because it was cold. Twelve o'clock came around, and Sheena and Holly decided they wanted to leave. At first, I was annoyed to leave that early, but I was drunk, and blame my weird mood on that. On the way home, for some reason we started to sing "I'm a tumor, I'm a tumor" ala Family Guy. We thought it was hilarious, so we decided to text a bunch of random people and say that. We also left some messages on voicemail. I told Sheena to text K, which she did. He replied with "WTF!?"
Feeling this was my chance, I texted him back from my phone saying "My sister is drunk...and apparently a tumor"
"Krista?" he replied (I wasn't in his phone yet)
This led to a lengthy text conversation, in which he mentioned that he had people over, and was drinking on his patio.
"I'm jealous," I said, "There's nothing better than drinks on the patio"
"Come over" was his reply
"I can..." I said.
He then kind of flip-flopped, saying that maybe it wasn't a great idea, because his parents would be home in the morning. I replied that that was cool, and that I'd just go home. I ended it with "It's all good", trying to be as cool as possible.
A few minutes later I get a text: "Kinda wanted you to come tho, so we could hang :("
Confused, I ask him whether or not he wants me to come, and he says he does...so I ask my brother his advice on the flip-flopping texts, and he grins at me saying "He wants you to come...just go!"
My brother drives me over, and I end up hanging out with K and his friends until 5 in the morning. Tired, I ask him if I can sleep in his bed for awhile. He takes my hand, and we go up together. Use your imagination for the rest.

I should, however, mention something that he said after our....sexy times....he said, and I quote, "That was....the best I've ever had, and I am NOT just saying that!"

Awyeah, that's what I'm talking about. It was pretty good, I must admit. I definitely would like more of that to take place. He also drunkenly told me that I had a gorgeous body, and that he...umm....does his own business...to it. Then he asked me if that was gross, to which I replied that it was hot. I dig it. At least it's me, and not some other broad. Score one for Krista.

So, as you can see, I feel like things are going pretty well with my young man. I am definitely interested in him, a lot. I am hoping that things progress. We shall see. I will, as always, keep you posted.

Cheers.

On London Calling and Twelveteens

2008-05-14T12:36:00.000-07:00

Well, I haven't blogged in awhile, so I figured it was about time I made my way on here. I'm not really in the mood to type a long diatribe, but I will do my best to provide a brief update. Admittedly, I should have re-read my last posted blog, to find out where I left off, but failing to do so I will launch myself into where I think I left off...

So I had decided to officially cut G out of the picture a few weeks back. Unluckily for me, he wasn't on the same page. He kept texting me, and trying to talk to me on MSN. For the most part, I ignored him. A few times, I replied, with rather short answers and responses. I figured he got the point, that I was avoiding him...but he certainly did not. In fact, last Friday he called me trying to convince me to go to this party with him on Saturday. I obviously did not want to see him, so I gave him every excuse in the book for not going. My prime reason wasn't even an excuse; I was having people over Saturday night, because my friend Christine was coming down for the night. He kept trying, and I kept evading. My sister and our friend Holly were in the background the entire time, and were none too pleased that I was entertaining this conversation. Finally they started yelling profanities in the background. G, unable to hear what they said, started to ask what they were saying. I told him it was just Sheena and Holly, and his response was "Oh. Tell China [referring to my sister] that I'll wrestle with her later, and tell Holly to jump on a treadmill for awhile..."

Whoa. Buddy. Big mistake.
"Excuse me...did you just insult my SISTER and my FRIEND?" I asked, indignantly.
"Well, they're insulting me..." he said.
"Actually, they're not...they just don't want me on the phone with you...neither do I," I replied. And then I hung up. Man, was I glad to be done with that.
Five seconds later, I get a text that reads "Hey wave to us".
Unsure of what he meant, I showed the girls, and we entertained the idea that he was somehow watching is at that exact moment. Then I realized that he was likely trying to say "wave goodbye to us", but was too stupid to get the phrase out right. Idiot. I had waved goodbye to you weeks ago, you just didn't notice.

Anyways, we went out that night, and I ran into K, my newest crush. I should mention to you that this young buck is, quite literally, young. He's twenty. I'm twenty-three (twenty-four in September). I don't see this as a problem, but my friends never fail to razz me about it. They call him a "twelveteen". It's kind of funny, and yet not really! Anyways, he was at the bar, so we chatted it up, and got our flirt on.

The following night, I saw him out again. He came right to my table, and sat with me. We were around each other for the rest of the night. I got wobbled. I started to rub his leg. He started to rub mine. We came back here, and had an intense makeout-fest. It was awesome. I am totally crushin on this boy. He seems like a nice guy, and he's cute as hell. We'll see how it goes.

Anyways, on a none-guy-related noted, I have an interview to teach in England the end of May. I've been talking to this one guy at a recruitment company for a few weeks now, working on getting some paperwork done. I'm not sure if I want to go...but I am going through the motions. I mean...on the one hand, I would love to have the opportunity to go to England, and experience European culture firsthand. I know it would be an amazing experience. I am also excited about the prospect of meeting a really sexy Englishman...I mean, that accent is enough to make me swoon. Plus, they'd think my accent was sexy (or at least different), and I'm guessing I could really clean up over there. However, I am nervous at the initial expense, nervous about leaving my friends and family, and nervous about having to leave my kitty. It's very scary, to think about going that far away totally alone. At least when I went to Thunder Bay I knew Alicia was going to be there. This time, it would be Krista on her own. That's a scary thought.

Anyways, I should go watch my dinner...I burnt it once already (but saved it with peanut butter...ask me what I made, and you will laugh your ass off that peanut butter fixed it) and I don't want to do it again.

I'll update the situation later.

Oh, and P.S. I will be running into Adam this weekend. I'm unsure of how that will pan out. I saw him on the weekend, and was overwhelmed with a bunch of different emotions, one of them being total love for him. Again, I will keep you posted on the goings on.

On Closing The Door

2008-04-27T16:51:00.000-07:00

Metaphorically speaking, I am officially closing the door on men. I've had the door open for awhile, and I've even gone so far as to keep peeking out periodically to see if anyone is coming. The problem with doing this is that you end up looking like a creeper, constantly looking for someone that isn't there. I must admit, it looks slightly desperate, to those who can decode the body language. So, after much internal debating, I have decided to close the door. I reluctantly closed it. It was hard to do, but I kept thinking back to the advice my Mom gave me: "Love will never come when you're looking for it. It only comes when you're not ready."

So, in keeping with this adage, I am going to cease all active pursuits of love. I would be lying if I said I was not looking at all. If we stick with this door metaphor, then my door has a window in it. It's a window with curtains that you can see vaguely through, if you press your face against it. From time to time, I will definitely have my face in that curtain.

I did do something the other day that is slightly embarrassing. This happened before I shut the door, so don't judge. As per usual, I went out drinking Friday night. This will never change, at least not for a while. I need the wind-down that it brings. Anyways, I was out with my sister and our friend Holly. We went to the pub first, and then wandered over to the seedier, but more populated (usually) bar. There weren't too many people there though, which was kind of a let down. Resigned to our fate, we grabbed a table and proceeded to people watch and gossip. The only other large group that was there consisted of a lot of younger people. At least two of the people, a girl and a guy, were under aged. The girl was a known rival of my sister (for the affections of a man, of course). We ended up ratting on the girl, who was asked to leave. It's my duty, I feel, as a teacher, to rat out underagers now. But I digress. I noticed this guy, who I have seen around before. I knew him to be the youngest of a rather notorious Tillsonburg family. He has a sister two years older than me, one the same age as me, and a brother the same age as my sister. He's two years younger than the brother. I won't say his age, since I get teased for this often, but if you know my sisters age, subtract two, and you've got him. I couldn't help staring, and I drunkenly tried to catch his eye. I'm not sure if this happened or not, because when you're drunk you judge situations wrong, but I felt like we connected a few times. It was the coy eye catching thing that happens now and again. I kept trying to broadcast the "approach me" vibe, but didn't really get anywhere with it.

We got bored of the bar, and decided to leave, around 2. When I got into my room, I went to turn off my computer, and then did the stupidest thing imaginable; I went onto Facebook. Not only did I log onto Facebook, I also searched for this young fellow, and proceeded to Poke him. I am ridiculously stupid for doing so. I could have come across as a HUGE creepo. I still may.

Anyways, this evening I get a message from Facebook. Instead of poking me back, the young man decided to message me. I debate not opening the message for a minute or two. I am afraid it will be something horrible like "Who the hell are you, and why are you poking me" or "You are old and disgusting, leave me alone".
Instead all it says is a simple "Hey whats up?"

Unsure of how to tackle the situation, I messaged my friend Rachelle, who lovingly laughed at me and told me to make small talk back. I knew this is what I had to do, but I needed the reassurance that it wasn't creepy to do so. So I shot off a "Not much, just having a laaazy Sunday".
I debated whether or not to add a "you?". Ultimately I decided against it, because then it seemed as if I wanted to continue the conversation. The way I left it, he can either let it go, or he can instigate some more conversation. Either way, it is all in his court, because I closed my part of the conversation. I thought it was rather clever, but then again what do I know? I am mentally handicapped when it comes to dealing with men (sober).

We'll wait it out, see what I get in return (if anything at all). Not that I care. The door is closed now. I will peek through the curtain though, to see if I get any mail.

Cheers.

On The State of Confusion

2008-04-20T15:59:00.000-07:00

So lately I've really struggled with what is going on with my life. Obviously, professionally I know where I am going; at least I have deluded myself into thinking I know what's going on professionally. Maybe I really have no clue. Maybe I am fooling myself. I'd like to think I'm not, though. I believe in my potential. I believe that I am a good teacher, and therefore I deserve to teach. I think I have a lot of people on my side, who will do what it takes to get me a job in the near future. However, maybe I am placing too much trust in other peoples hands. This isn't to suggest that I am not taking control of my own future; I am doing all that I can to apply to teaching positions right now. I'm not doing nothing, on that front. However, I must admit that I am relying a lot of the help of the teachers in my school right now. They have a lot of confidence in me, and have voiced, on more than one occasion, their desire to help me get a job. They also state quite adamantly that I will be employed, because I am too good not to be. So I am basing a lot of my professional optimism in their comments. Hopefully I am not deluding myself.

But that's not what I intended to rant about today. I wanted to rant about how frustrating boys are. Again, I want to emphasize the fact that I used the word boys, and not men. I am seriously starting to doubt whether men actually exist. Where are all these elusive men? Are they already snagged up by women smarter than me? Is it seriously possible that there are NO men around these parts? I don't know what to believe...but in my personal experience it sure seems like there are no real men in the world. The boys around here are strong on the head game. I see it constantly; they sweet talk girls as if the sun rises and falls on them. They pull out all the stops in their pursuit...however, little do you know they're pulling out the stops on all other girl at the same time. I've had personal experience with this problem twice in the past week. WEEK! I kid you not. Now, mind you, none of the guys who were sweet talking me had a chance in HELL of scoring with me. I was turning them down every chance I got. However, that didn't stop them from pursuing me to the n'th degree. They tried HARD. I didn't think too much of it, until I started talking to my friend Christine, who informed me that both these fellows were hitting on her, quite aggressively. Shocked that they would be pulling the same moves on her, I told her what they'd been saying to me, and after comparing stories, we discovered that these guys were both trying to run their hardball game on us. Now, you should know that Christine and I had been out on the town three weekends in a row. Both of these guys saw us together. They know we are friends. So why, I have to wonder, would they think we wouldn't TELL each other about their aggressive attempts to pick us up?! These guys aren't friends, so I know they're not collaborating. That'd be weird. But they should both be smart enough to realize that girls talk to each other. We talk about guys, and their horrid attempts to get into our pants. I couldn't believe they would be so stupid as to think we wouldn't talk about getting hit on. When we tried to confront them on it, they each denied their involvement with the other girl. They tried to play the "cool friend" card, but to no avail. Neither Christine nor I are stupid enough to fall for that shit. Not that they had a chance in the first place. However, the fact remains that two guys, totally unbenounced to each other, tried to hit on the SAME two girls...and thought nothing of it. In fact, the one guy even has a girlfriend. What a joke. Boys like this are the reason I have so little faith in the male sex. They are absolutely pathetic.

Actually, what it really makes me think is that they have no respect for women. Clearly they are treating Christine and I as objects. They think if they sweet talk us enough we will sleep with them. Let's be honest, that's all guys want from girls, if they're running a game like that. It disgusts me. I am worth more than a few cheap words. So is Christine. Ugh. Boys make me feel sick to my stomach sometimes.

And then there is the whole "G" situation. I'd rather not go into detail on it, so long story (well not too long, really)short is that we hung out Friday night. I was pretty tired from school, and he was tired from work, so I ended up sleeping there. I didn't intend to at all, but it just kind of happened. Anyways, he was actually a really cute person to sleep with, because he is very cuddly. I mean, VERY cuddly. I've never been with someone who was so cuddly. I would move in the middle of the night, and he would always pull me in and hold me. It was kind of cute. In the morning he gave me a ride home, and said he'd talk to me later..."maybe tonight". However, when I got drunk Saturday night and text messaged him, I didn't get a response. I haven't heard from him since. Not that it's a long time to go without hearing from anyone...and not that we're very involved...I'm still slightly peeved. I'm not sure why, but I am. I find it weird how he can draw me back in, in one night...considering I was pretty detached from the situation a week ago. I'm not sure what it is, but he has this weird bad boy charm that kind of sucks me back in. I've got my guard up though, because I'm increasingly told that he's not as innocent as he seems, and that I should be careful. So I will be. I've got my eyes open. For right now though, I will take what comes, and just enjoy life as it is.

Cheers.

On My Ongoing Issues Of The Male Variety

2008-04-14T18:07:00.001-07:00

Well, I was definitely on to something in my last post, when I discussed the possibility of putting the kibosh on hanging out with G. I haven't heard from him since my snarky "whatever" final text message response. In all fairness, I really don't care THAT much; the only thing that really bothers me is the abruptness of the end. While there wasn't anything to end, I still feel I warranted a "let's just be friends" talk. Or, failing that a "you repulse me, and here are my reasons why" talk. That way, I would have at least known exactly what was to blame. Although...I was thinking through the whole situation moments ago, and I came up with the theory that perhaps he thinks I am mad at him, and perhaps he is waiting for me to make the first move of apology, or whatever the first move would be called in this case. I'm at a loss. However, what it all boils down to is the fact that I am simply not interested in putting in the effort to make the first move, to ask what went wrong. I knew from the get-go that there was no long-lasting chemistry. If anything, I was willing to perhaps try a few weeks and see if something developed. However, my idea of trying does not involve any strenuous work on my part; he has to come to me. I rarely make more effort than the man at the start of any "relationship". That way, I never run the risk of coming off as "clingy", or any of the other horrible things girls get called when they are constantly bothering their new fling to spend time with them. While I may want to spend a lot of my time with a new guy, I always restrain myself and ensure that he's the one asking me for my time, and not the other way around. Tell me if I'm in the wrong, in taking this approach. I'd love to hear some other opinions on the matter.

I don't claim to be the be-all-end-all of relationships, or how to work them. In fact, I've got nothing but failed relationships under my belt. However, I'd like to think that the failures have made me wiser; I know not what to do through trial and error. Often, I find that I can give excellent advice to both my male and female friends, due to my extensive experience in failed relationships. I've had one major one, and a plethora of minor ones, and I've learnt something from every one.

But I digress.

What I wanted to say was that things with G ended before they began, and here I am, back at the beginning with nothing to show for it. It's immensely frustrating, because I've never felt better about myself, physically and mentally. I'm down to 130 lbs - having been at an all time high of 148 in December - and I am hard as a fucking rock. I even fit into my elusive skinny dress pants; the ones in which the zipper broke when I tried to wear them last placement. I feel fabulous about my body for the first time in ages.

I also think I've got sexy down pat, with the addition of my extensions. I honestly feel like a whole other woman when I put them in. They give me so much more confidence, because they finally allow me to look the way I want to look. I go out on the town, and I exude confidence like it's an expensive perfume.

And yet...

...I fail to attract the attention of any males. Or rather, I fail to attract the attention of the males I want to attract. For example, I've recently seen "P" out on the town, and while I had spurned his lame MSN attempts to get with me in the past (labelling him as a perverted creep), I find myself kind of attracted to him. I'm not sure if it was my years away from this town, but I sure do find him much more sexy than I recalled him being. Maybe it's the fact that he looks like a man now, and not a little boy. Maybe it's because in high school I always considered him short...only to realize that he was only short in relation to Adam, who happened to be 6'4". Turns out, upon closer inspection, P is actually taller than me. He's likely of average male height. Hmm. I find his quite sexy. Anyways. I've seen him out a few times, and have always lost all confidence, and failed to approach him. He strikes me as a tad shy as well, so nothing has gone on there. I even drunk MSN'd him, one night. That resulted in my getting his cell phone number. However, as we should all be aware, that does nothing for me, since I am clearly of the belief that the man must make the first move. What's a girl to do? Break her own rules? I'm not sure I am ready to do that. Maybe in a few weeks I will.

Here's another interesting tidbit; a male opinion on my predicament.

I was talking to my friend Dave the other day, and he told me that I am being far too picky. He asked me if I was attracted to any of the single males that I knew in town. Unsure of what he was asking, I told him that, for the most part I was not attracted to any of the single guys I knew. He replied by saying that he felt sorry for me. Perplexed, I asked him what he meant.
"Well, I know a ton of single guys that would die to have a chance with you. They would make you very happy...but you're not willing to see these guys for who they are, because you're too picky. What are you looking for?"
I was floored by his response. I will admit to being picky, sure, but to be totally oblivious to the fact that "tons" of single guys that I knew had serious crushes on me...well that was news to me. However, as I started to think about it, I realized what he was implying.
"Are you implying that guys that I am friends with would kill for a chance to date me?" I asked him.
"Well, the best relationships come from friendships," he replied.
Ugh. Not that chestnut again. If I've learnt anything from life in general, it's that you never date friends. Ever. I don't care what anyone says, it is a huge mistake. If the idea of fate is right, and we are only meant to meet one person in our lives, if we date our friends, chances are they will NOT be that one person. As such, you will undoubtedly break up, putting strain on the friendship that used to exist, as well as all the friendships around you. It's a horribly messy situation, and one that I will never involve myself in.
I tried to raise this point with Dave, but he seemed fairly unwilling to accept my stance. I think he increasingly sees me for what I am; a vain, picky, and yet horribly insecure young woman, who truly has no idea what she really wants.

I know vaguely what I want; I want companionship, and someone to tell me nice things, hold my hand, rub my back, and give me hugs and kisses until I fall asleep at night. I want all the icky disgusting sappy shit, but at the same time I want my space. I want a guy who is nice, but has his asshole moments; tension can be kind of exciting, now and again. If he was too nice, it would get boring and stale. He needs to keep me on my feet, just like I need to keep him on his. I want someone who is athletic, and has a sexy body; I am working on mine, so the least he can do is work on his. Nothing hardcore, but lean is always good. I want a man who has a career, not a job. Again, whatever I can offer, I want given back to me. I don't think I am asking too much, but clearly it is too much for this town to handle. I doubt I can find someone who can fill those qualities in this small town. Maybe the problem is that I need to escape it. I'm not entirely sure how possible that is though...

...but anyways. It's getting late (for me). I'm off to bed now. I realize that this post didn't have much direction - it really was a rambling of my thoughts - so I apologize for that. I'll attempt to be more coherent in the future.

Cheers.

On Filling You In On The Goings On

2008-04-12T16:25:00.000-07:00

I noticed the other day that it had been awhile since I had written anything here, and I felt the need to provide an update. My intentions are to make it brief, but often I find that I am quite wordy, and can ramble on unnecessarily. It's a bad habit that I have, but one that I won't soon be losing.

So, where to begin? I suppose I should fill you in on the whole Ryan situation. As it turns out, he's a bit of a douche bag (go figure). I suppose the age thing is to blame, since I doubt he has the maturity levels necessary to really understand half of the shit that he does. Not a good excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. Anyways, a few Friday nights ago, I was out as per usual, having some bevy's. I got slightly intoxicated, and decided it would be a good idea to send him a text message. So I send one off, asking him if he plans on showing his face at the bar tonight. I get a reply asking who I am, and then saying that he's in London for the night. I text back saying my name, and instantly my cell phone starts to ring. Call display informs me that it is him. I eagerly answer, only to be shocked to find an angry girls voice asking me who I am, and how I know Ryan. I panic, and in my drunken state I mumble something about calling the wrong number, and I hang up on her. She tries to call back a few times, but I don't answer. I feel absolutely mortified, like such a big fat loser. He's with a girl! It was obvious to me that she was younger, because if some girl texted my guy, asking a rather innocent question like I did, I would not freak out and call the person back. Kind of childish, if you ask me. And taking such an accusatory tone? Not adult. Anyways, I sulked to myself for awhile, cursing myself for doing that. It had taken a lot of nerve for me to text his phone, and it had turned out horribly.

As I was sitting there, stewing in my own emotional turmoil, I heard someone say my name. I look over, and see this guy "G", who had gone to my high school. We had chatted briefly a few times since I had been back, and he had tried to take me on a date the week before, but I had kind of blown him off; I wasn't really feeling it. Suddenly I felt like I needed the attention, to prove to myself that I wasn't a total tool. So I put on my best game face, and we flirted it up. Turns out he wasn't drinking, and so at the end of the night he offered to drive me home. I was shit-canned, so I agreed. However, he didn't stop at my house, instead he kept driving.
"Where are we going?!" I ask him.
"Macs...I'm gonna get you some Gatorade...sober you up a bit," he says.
So we grab some Gatorade, then head back to my house. My parents are gone for the weekend, in Niagara Falls, otherwise I wouldn't have invited him in.
So we go in, and I quickly down the drink, thirsty for anything non-alcoholic. We put in Fight Club, and I marvel over how hot Brad Pitt and Ed Norton are. After awhile, he finally tries to kiss me, and I'm all for it. Mission accomplished, I do not suck. Drunken me tries to persuade him to stay the night, but thankfully he does not. In the morning I was glad he had turned me down; that wouldn't have gone over well with the siblings.

I had a buck and doe the following night, which ended up at the bar as well. G was there again, and this time drinking. Again we got our flirt on, and were that disgusting pair that is all hands and lap sitting. I am ashamed to admit it sober, but when I'm drunk I do stuff sober me wouldn't dream of doing. It's unfortunate, but it happens to the best of us.

Anyways, we hung out a few times this week, and I kind of have a crush on him. Not entirely sure where it's going though. He is really not my type at all; he is very rough around the edges. He works in construction, so he has a hot body. However, he smokes, drinks, and does pot more than I like...again, it's more of a side-effect of what he does, more than anything else. He's also a bit crass...very rough when he talks. Not the most intellectual guy, but by no means stupid. He's smart in his own right. He's also very athletic, which I find irresistible. Very hot body. Nice hair. Sexy raspy voice. He's got his perks.

Last night though, I think I may have put a kibosh on things. I was drunken texting him, and got a little bit snarky when he didn't come out, and then refused to come get me. In hindsight, I can understand his refusal, since he had to work today...however drunken me was being kind of stupid, as is often the case. Oh well. If I fucked it up, then it wasn't meant to pan out. I didn't see it going far anyways, but it was nice to have someone around.

Oh well, plenty of fish in the sea, and all that crap n' junk.

Tonight is another Bx 93 Dance. Hopefully my ex won't be at this one to cause more drama. That's really the last thing I want to deal with right now. So not in the mood for it.

Anyways, I have to go straighten my hair, and put in my extensions. My friend Christine should be here soon.

Cheers!

On Being Lonely (For Male Attention)

2008-03-23T12:58:00.000-07:00

This past weekend really highlighted for me the fact that a) I am getting old and b) I am not as confident as I want to be when I am sober. I usually like to have people believe that I am this cocky, confident, straight talking sassy minx; deep down I know that much of this is false bravado, because underneath it all I am just the same old small town girl from Tillsonburg. Underneath it all, I harbour really deep insecurities about myself, and it seems since moving back to Tillsonburg I've really reverted back into this high school coward that I once was. The worst thing is, I still project this self assured outward appearance, which only further isolates me from everyone, because I look so damned unapproachable.

I went to the bar Friday and Saturday night. Friday night it was pretty dead downtown, but I drank an entire bottle of wine at home, and then proceeded to polish off about 4 rum and cokes once I got downtown. Suffice it to say, I was licked. More licked than I've been in a fair while. I went with my sister, Sheena, and her friend Holly. The first stop was the one and only pub in town, the Copper Mug. It's a decent place to go sit down, and have a drink or two. It's not a very large pub though; if you've been to Guelph, it is comparable to Doogies (minus the hole in the wall where you can see into Pablos. We were sitting there, when we saw two guys who are a year older than me; Mike and Andrew Kamenar. They're cousins, not brothers. Andrew is shorter, stalky, with dark hair. He's attractive in his own way, definitely He's not ugly at all. Mike is gorgeous though. He's tall, blond, and hot as fuck all. He is also in teachers college right now, in the U.S. I believe. He just started (or finished, I can't remember which) his second placement in Windsor. I decided that this was the perfect opportunity to move in on him; we have something in common! So I started to chat him up, and was being super flirty. After awhile, we all decided to head down to the Royal (the bar) and see if more people were there. So we're walking over, and my sister is suddenly all over Mike. Once we got into the bar, she sat beside him and was all handsy and super flirty. Any headway I had made was totally out the window. Suffice it to say, I was hurt and disappointed. She had totally moved in on me. I didn't think she could be so oblivious to what I was doing. Holly even leaned over and said "Man, you must be pissed...you did all that footwork and now Sheena is coming in and taking him away." I grumbled my disapproval, and proceeded to sulk in my chair.

Then Sheena and Mike were gone. Holly and I looked all over outside, trying to find them, and we couldn't. It was fairly obvious to me that they likely ran off somewhere to make out or something. I doubt I am being over dramatic in saying that. I know how it goes. Fuming even more, I returned to my seat. However, as I was sitting there, THE hottest young thing in town spots me, and comes over to chat me up. His name is Ryan, and I believe he is 20 or 21. He's a fucking dreamboat and a half, let me tell you. This kid was the star athlete in EVERYTHING he did in high school, which means he is in amazing shape. He's got to be something like 6'2" or so, with naturally blond hair (and when I say blond, I mean like the most beautiful shade of blond ever). None of that mousy blondness. He's dutch, so you know it's the fabulous kind of blond. It's short, and spiked a bit...just the way I like it. I have always thought he had the All-American good looks down to a T. He's stunning. Anyways, for some background information, I saw him out last weekend and we chatted a bit, and I managed to get some lame flirting in. So when he came up to me AGAIN on Friday, I was pretty stoked. All thoughts about my frustration with Sheena and Mike evaporated. He bought me a drink, and then went to talk to his buddies.

Not satisfied with the transaction, I debated with Holly what to do next. I wanted to talk to him some more. She told me to just go over, but lately I've been having mega confidence issues in Tillsonburg, and I couldn't bring myself to be so forward (whereas in Thunder Bay or Guelph, I would have sauntered over, and got my flirt on). So I decided to buy him a drink...I walked over, and whispered into his ear, asking him what he was drinking. He told me he was drinking Rye and Ginger, so I grabbed one for him. I gave it to him, and he thanked me, giving me this megawatt SUPER hot smile. We chatted for a bit...my drunken mind doesn't recall a lot of the conversation, but I swear to GOD he asked me if I would ever go on a date with him. I told him I would, and then he said he would call me some time. I asked him if he had my number, and he said that if he really wanted it, he could find it. Then some other girl came running up, and I kind of got pushed out of the circle. Dejected, I walked back to the table where Holly was sitting. While I was gone, Sheena and Mike magically reappeared. They were being all disgusting, whispering to each other, and laughing, and touching. I looked back at Ryan, longingly, wishing I could get out of this private hell.

Eventually Andrew and Mike took off. Sheena and I decided to walk home. We stopped at Pizza Pizza to grab a slice. As we were sitting in the restaurant, her phone rings. Apparently it was Mike, asking her to come to his place. I nearly died. She said she couldn't go. Wanting to be the good sister, I told her to go.
"Really?" she asked.
"Yah, you should go...I will tell Mom and Dad you stayed at Holly's. I got your back"
She eagerly took me up on my offer. We ate our pizza, and then she hopped into a cab. I started walking back home, which is literally five minutes down the street. I should have been fine. Instead, and please keep in mind the fact that I was straight licked, I started to cry. Hard crying. I just felt so horribly rejected and alone. I was angry that my sister could swoop in and take a guy I was clearly trying to flirt with. I was angry that my lame attempts to get Ryan to notice me when virtually unnoticed. I was just plain upset at being alone. I cried the entire way home. Not wanting to go into the house crying, I leaned against my Dads car in the driveway, and cried some more. At one point I sank to the ground, and sat there on the driveway, against my Dads car, balling my eyes out. I wanted to talk to someone, and knowing that it was late, I decided not to call Andrea and wake her up. I called Rachelle instead, because I knew she was working and would likely be awake, or just have gotten home. So I called her, and thankfully she was around to talk to me. We had a rather lengthy conversation (at least it felt lengthy at the time) that really helped me feel better. Rachelle, if you're reading this, thanks a bunch for listening to my extreeeeemely drunk ranting and raving. Also, sorry that I cried on the phone. (P.S. I was being serious when I said I would come to Guelph and hold your hand, if you ever need it!)

Anyways, after I got off the phone with Rachelle, I went into the house, and climbed into bed. I texted Sheena a really nasty message, that I realize I shouldn't have done. She called my cell instantly, and was extremely apologetic. I couldn't possibly stay mad at her, so I forgave her. Looking back at the situation now, I realize that while she shouldn't have swooped in on me (I certainly wouldn't have done it) if he was interested in ME he wouldn't have cared. Therefore, he clearly knew what he was doing, and made a conscious decision to pick my sister. I guess the better woman won, and I am fine with that decision now.

I still want in Ryan's pants though.

Which leads me to last night. IT WAS JAM PACKED downtown. I literally have never seen the bar so full in my life. You could hardly MOVE, it was so annoying. Getting a drink took twenty minutes. Not that I drank; after the last night, I was not in the mood to repeat the situation, so I decided to be the DD. Anyways, I saw a LOT of really super hot guys, but most of them didn't know who I was, and I wasn't about to go introduce myself AGAIN to them, especially not sober. Drunk Krista might have done it, but sober Krista was all about averting her eyes and shyly staring at the floor all night. Anyways, I didn't see Ryan until towards the end of the night. When I did see him, I was waaay too shy to go say hello to him. Sheena kept pushing me to go say hello, but I was staunchly refusing her, so she gave up. Soon after that, Sheena saw her friend from work, Britt, so we went over to talk to her. Now, this girl is 18, but since the bars in town don't check IDs she was drinking away the night. She was a nice girl, so it's all good. Anyways, I admitted to her that I had a crush on Ryan, and she squealed with delight. She told me she was good friends with him, and that I should go talk to him. Again, I waxed shyness, and refused.
"You look gorgeous! Why are you shy!? Lets go over!" she said.
So she grabbed my hand, and practically dragged me over to where he was. She threw her arms around him, and did the girly "HOW ARE YOU" thing that all young girls seem to do. I hung back, being retardedly shy. My sister kept pushing me towards Ryan, edging me forward with her fingers and her eyes. Finally he noticed me.
"HEY!!!" he said, opening his arms up wide for a hug. It was at this point I realized how drunk he was. He was at that point where your eyes don't really focus, and you can't stand still without swaying. Great.
He walked towards me, and threw his arms around me. I hugged him back. He instantly sank into me, leaning heavily on me. I'm way shorter than him, so this couldn't have been very comfortable for him.
"How are you?" he whispered into my ear, his head planted firmly on my shoulder.
"I'm good, how are you, drunky?" I teased back.
We kinda talked and joked this way, him leaning solidly on me in hug positon, for about two minutes. Then he pulled away, and attempted to stand up straight. We talked for a few minutes more, and then his drunken mind got sidetracked by a commotion his cousin was making behind him. I knew it was a lost cause, since he was so horribly hammered, so I let him stumble away. Britt was looking at me expectantly.
"SO?!" she asked me.
"Ah, you know what, he's so drunk, he has no idea what is going on. I don't think he's into me..." I replied.
Sheena and her both kind of laughed at me, and told me not to be so serious.

We spent the rest of the night wandering around the bar, while Sheena and Britt talked and flirted with virtually every guy there. Myself, I felt like such a third wheel, and I wasn't drunk so I couldn't jump into the conversations without feeling like a retard, so I stood behind them most of the night staring at the floor, or gazing around the bar taking in all the people. I talked briefly with Cole Carson (not related) about how "gorgeous" I turned out to be, which was slightly ego boosting (we went to high school together, and I was so shy and awkward then). He said it was amazing that the quiet girl I was then could be the outgoing girl I am now (he was basing this on my Facebook, which he said astounded him - the pictures especially. Good to know he creeped me. Ha!) I also kept making eyes at this really cute guy all night, from afar. Turns out he's going to be my sister and Britt's boss at their summer job at Courtland Gardens. His name is Paul, and he looked like date-able material. He hung out with the three of us for the last 30 minutes or so, until they turned the lights on. I mostly listened to the three of them discuss Courtland Garden, and smiled shyly at him from time to time.

Ryan came up one more time before he left. He touched my hair, gave me this adorable puppy dog face, and told me that I was beautiful. I shot him the most seductive look I could muster, and said thank you. Then he stumbled away. Not sure what to make of that.

Anyways, Sheena and Britt wanted Pizza Pizza, so I agreed to take them and then drive Britt home. Paul asked me if I could give him a ride home as well, and I happily consented. So we went to Pizza Pizza, and I finally got to enter the conversation. Anyways, lots of stuff was said, but the best thing was that...and I can't recall the context of the comment....but Paul said something about how he "fell in love with me the moment he saw me" and that I was "dead drop gorgeous". I wrote that right. He said dead drop gorgeous. I laughed at him, and asked him what dead drop gorgeous was. He looked at me, puzzled.
"Isn't it a turn of phrase?"
"Drop dead gorgeous is...you said dead drop gorgeous"
We all had a laugh over that.
He also told me he wanted to marry me, because I was so sweet. If only all men could see it. Ha ha ha.

Anyways, suffice it to say, it was a frustrating weekend of me vainly attempting to flirt with the sexiest boys in town, and getting no where. However, I now have a massive crush on Paul (though, fuck, it would appear Sheena does now too...and she will be working with him, so we all know who will win that contest). Ryan I doubt I could date, because he is TOO pretty, and we all know that the very pretty ones KNOW they are pretty, and hence dog it up. But Paul is cute, without being a playboy. He's not retardedly hot, just very small town, guy next store adorable. He seems date-able, like I said.

Oh, which reminds me. We were talking in the Pizza Pizza, and he asked me if it was normal to date someone two or three months and then realize you can't stand the other person. I nearly shit myself, because as we all know, that is MY problem! So we shared some opinions on that matter as well.

So....I'm hoping that perhaps one of these two insanely different fleeting moments will lead somewhere. I just want to have someone to shower me with compliments and attention. A male someone. If I had to pick, I'd want it to be Paul, since he seems like a nice guy, but Ryan would be GREAT for the ego too.

I'll keep you posted.