A Slightly Censored Quarter-Century :)

I was fretting my 25th birthday for many reasons. Getting old sucks. But celebrating without all my Canadian friends and family was even more difficult. Fortunately, my London crew made it a blast. It was by far, the most international party I've ever hosted. We represented five countries: Canada, US, Italy, UK and New Zealand. The evening began at Michelle + Dracine's flat in Soho. They prepared cheese and crackers, some delicious creamy olive wraps and of course, WINE AND BEER! I brought crisps and biscuits. We hung around, drinking and chatting for a few hours. Then we were off to Camp Attack at the Astoria. It was definitely one of the more debacherous nights I've seen in London. The international theme continued at the club as we met some French, Welsh and an Australian. Erin probably had the most fun of all us. I ended up closing the club at half four when the lights came on. Oh, the shame. Most of my friends had left by that time. Erin was still kicking around but I couldn't find her. Fortunately a text message from her indicated she was a-ok, so I left for Poplar.



Alexis and I predict: The 'Lamb + Mint' crisps will not go over well tonight.



Michelle, Alexia and the spread.



Italian Sandwich: Marissa, Francesa, Angel + I



Bar star Erin and I.



Erin, Anthony [came all the way from Toronto!] and Brennon.



Yah, that's proper British.

Good times!

Calgary: Canada's Nottingham?

Nottingham is nicknamed the 'guns and gangs capital' here in the UK. I got this email from Chris today and it's so bizarre that I had to post it. I just sat in the office with my mouth gaping open as I read it. The moral of the story is: do not open your door at night. Here it is:

------------

So this morning at around 2:30 am my telephone rang and shook me from a
very deep sleep. At first I was concerned that someone had died, but
luckily it turned out to be the front door. I was told that it was 'The
Plumber' and that the apartment below me had flooded and he needed to
come in to look at my bathroom. Mmmmhmm. Luckily TV and a
non-so-distant alley-way encounter have made me sceptical and scared of
people, so I refused to buzz him in. Not 90 seconds later there was a
knock at my door. I looked out my peephole to see a man with a large
red tool box. The toolbox made me think, momentarily, 'Well, he must be
a plumber then.' But logic set in and I refused to open my door without
some confirmation that he was legit. Of course, he couldn't seem to
produce anything confirming who he was, and Matt telling him there was
no water in the bathroom was not good enough. We suggested that he give
us the number of his work, or get them to call us, or have the people
downstairs come up and confirm the situation (which would have made the
most sense you'd think). Nope, he didn't agree to any of these, we
should just let him in. He finally stormed off saying that if there was
any damage we would be responsible. Mmmhmmm. Then we could hear
knocking on someone elses door down the hall, so we called the Police.

The Police showed up within 5-10 minutes and saw no lights on in the
apartment below, or any sign of 'The Plumber'. Apparently we did the
right thing not letting him in, the normal route for such a case were he
telling the truth would be to have Management call us. So I couldn't
get back to sleep last night thinking of all the horrible things that
could have happened if we'd opened the door (not that I would have).
Sketchy huh? So DON'T either of you ever answer your doors in the
middle of the night to strange people! Seems like common sense, but
apparently it happens all the time. I think the lesson of the story is
'Don't Trust Anyone, Always Be Suspicious'. There could be a terrorist
in your home RIGHT NOW.

But seriously, where do I live? Why am I having such bad luck with
violence and attempted violence? I live in a good 'hood, perhaps too good. Apparently being
associated with our nice building makes people think we have nice things
:) We just rent silly.

Anywho, now I have to try and stay awake at work on a Council day that
is predicted to run until 8 pm. I am the last item on the agenda. :(

Have a goooooood day y'all.

Chris

Stockholm: No one does it like librarians.

Saturday began at 4:30am so I could catch the 4:55am night bus to Liverpool Street and take the 5:30am train to Stanstead so we could arrive two hours before our 8:35am flight. People on the night bus at that hour are NOT a pretty bunch. We however, were surprisingly perky.



We arrived at our hostel in the early afternoon. This is a view out the window of our private room. It's very typical of Stockholm architecture: about 5 floors high and very colourful with lots of flowers. It also reminds me of a puzzle I had circa 1986.



We spent Day One exploring the city on foot with a bit of shopping, of course. We struggled to find a place to eat that had an English menu AND that was relatively afforable. There is an H&M on every corner, literally. It was really something. I didn't see a single Starbucks though. We stopped to rest on the above bench. I turned around and this boat was headed straight for us. I asked the girls if they were worried about it and they ran off screaming. The relationship between land and water is somewhat undefined. There are no fences or guard rails, just sidewalk and then a drop right into the water. Apparently, we were sitting at some kind of ferry dock but there was no visual indication that it was a place where a boat actually docked.



Showing off our new purchases while predrinking on Saturday night. Swedish posse!



We went to three bars that night. This is the second bar. It was open-air [so cool!], which meant it was a little cold, but there were heaters to keep us warm. Michelle and I were twins/models in our scarves. At the third bar, we met an Australian guy and Italian girl from Amsterdam who commented on our similar appearances.



A post-bar horror: The vegetarian feasts at McDonald's. How many vegetarians will I convert?



Many of the streets look like this photo. This central zone for pedestrians and cyclists shaded by a generous tree canopy divides one or two lanes of traffic and a dedicated transit lane in both directions. It made for a pleasant walk to the Vasa Museum.



This photo shoes the relationship between the land and water. This parking job made me nervous. Certainly, I am not that skilled behind the wheel.



We decided to visit the Vasa Museum. The Vasa was a 17th Century double-decker warship that sunk on it's maiden voyage and was underwater for about 300 years until 1951 when it was found and lifted out of the water. This entire museum is dedicated just to the ship with artefacts, models, reconstructions, films, and of course the massive ship, itself. When you walk in, the museum is very dark and quiet. It felt like we had arrived at a funeral, except that there were intermittent camera flashes from all around. The photo does not capture the massive scale of the ship. But it was taken from the highest possible point in the museum. I think Derek and Joey would have enjoyed it.



Afterwards, we went to the park across the street. Dracine sat down to rest [we were all tired from the night before] but Michelle and I were determined to keep going strong. We stumbled upon the Secret Garden [play the video]!





After the park, we went back to Gamla Stan [the old part of the city]. The sun was setting and all the lights were coming on. It was so beautiful to see the light reflecting in the old squares, on the cobblestones and across the narrow streets and alleys. We had our 'nice dinner' this night. We ate at an Italian restaurant and drank lots of wine!



On Monday, we went to Skansen. We had a very friendly bus driver who was quite intereted in chatting with North Americans. We were caught off guard. We live in London. Bus drivers here are feared. Skansen is an outdoor museum of Swedish history. Buildings of all periods have been moved here from around the country so you can walk around this contained area and view all kinds of examples of Swedish architecture and building types. They also had native animals. There were bears, lynx, moose, reindeer, seals and a crazy little wolverine.



Bears.



19th Century green roof.



The view.



Stay away from that tree!

When we left Skansen, we got the SAME bus driver. I couldn't believe it. He gave us a free ride! I could believe that either. As we drove through the streets, he provided us with a guided tour. He asked if we'd heard of the Stockholm Syndrome [that's when a kidnapped person starts to sympathise with their kidnappers]. I thought, 'Oh my God, he's going to kidnap us.' But actually, he showed us the bank where the Stockholm Syndrome originated. He asked where we were going and we told him we were on our way to the airport and were catching a coach from Central Station. He told us he would go off route to drop us off at the front doors of the station. We were all pretty stunned. Michelle tried to tell him that it wasn't necessary but he made an announcement in Swedish and all of a sudden he was navigating some extremely narrow streets that clearly pre-dated mass public transit. I thought we were going to take out a building or five. But we made it to the station and gave a big thank you.

We ate dinner at McDonald's in Central Station [we were in a rush]. I can justify it because it was a nice McDonald's with a carved wood ceiling, mood lighting and tvs on the wall. I recognised the station on one of the tvs. Four girls were walking through it. I commented that it would be funny if it was live. We left McDonald's and saw the same four girls. We thought they might be Swedish celebrities so Michelle snapped a photo.

It was such an amazing trip. The recap was slightly censored. I need to do another.

Fun with numbers?

My pay situation is not working out. My limited company needs to send my p45 to Inland Revenue. You need a p45 from every employer that you leave. It usually takes a month to process by your last employer. I had mine rushed because they actually still liked me and it only took 3 weeks or so. I got my p45 to my Limited Company on Oct 5. It takes about a week for the limited company to process. Next, they send it to Inland Revenue and then it takes a minimum of 28 days to process and then my tax rate may be reassessed. At the moment, I am being taxed at 'Basic Rate'... 40%. I make 9.73/hr. Therefore, I take home 5.21/hr. That's less than minimum wage. Did I mention I live in London? So I have about 30 days until my tax rate MIGHT be reassessed. I'm going home to cry, now.

I've cut corners everywhere. My weekly income is about £20 less than my weekly expenses [that doesn't include 'fun' money]. There's nothing left to cut. I read today that due to a shortage of prison cells, criminals are being offered £2500 to leave the country. Perhaps if I turn to a life of crime... is that the solution? What does it take, Inland Revenue? If I were making twice as much money, I would BARELY be scraping by.

If a Londoner ever complains to me about all the illegal immigrants here, I will hit them... very hard. Doing it the legal way is designed to make you fail. If you can't do it with a master's degree and a few thousand dollars in your pocket, WHAT THE HELL DOES IT TAKE?!

Canadian Thanksgiving

Bren and I hosted Thanksgiving at our flat yesterday. Bren did all the cooking [I did some stirring]. We ended up feeding fifteen people and we still had leftovers. It was one epic meal. We invited our British and American friends. Many of the Brits weren't really familiar with Thanksgiving so we opened the evening with an explanation of the holiday. I never really thought about how North American it is. I also didn't realise how much I would have missed it if Bren hadn't cooked up a storm. My mom always does a pretty huge feast and this was the first year I missed it. The night went smoothly. Everone brought a bottle of wine and only one guest got a little out of control and started saying inappropriate things to others.








The calm before the storm.











The food.













The reason for the season.












Girls.











Boys.






Also, I FINALLY saw Avenue Q last weekend! I went down to the theatre with a friend and we scored standby tickets in the THIRD row for a mere 20 quid [student price]. Avenue Q is sort of an R-rated Sesame Street with human actors and muppets, with classic lines like 'Ethnic jokes may be uncouth, but you laugh because they're based on truth...' The show is about how much life sucks immediately after university: You have no money. You live in the ghetto. You forget who you are. You find love. You lose love. Your ex starts dating someone called 'Lucy The Slut'. You question your purpose in life. Interactually, it may have hit a little too close to home. I have all the music now. It's fantastic.

Surprises @ Ealing Broadway

I'm back safe + sound from Stockholm. It is such a beautiful city. I will post stories and photos later when I'm not so tired. It's a 9-hour trip from 'door to door'.

I just had to share a weird discovery at work today. I was using a coworker's phone [Ben] to speak with my limited company and to prove my identity, I had to state my birthday. When I got off the phone, Ben questioned my birthday. I comfirmed the date [a mere 10 days away people - and it's a milestone, a quarter century!] He told me that he and our other co-worker Zoc were also born on October 13th.

Weird.

I am 1981.
Ben is 1982.
Zoc is 1983.

We're also all working-holiday makers.

I am Canadian.
Ben is Kiwi.
Zoc is Australian.

We're the three newest staff members.

We're also all over-qualified for the work we are doing.

Needless to say, it was the talk of the office today!