Turns out, I'm a tourist.

So it has been brought to my attention that general consensus is that once I get a job I won’t be able to come up with enough interesting things to post in my blog every week. Today marks the end of my third week here and so far, so good. Thus, I was challenged. The challenge is that I MUST come up with at least one new post every week (midweek-ish) AND, it can’t be boring…otherwise I have to buy the Challenger dinner. Luckily, this blog is based on NON-day-to-day events, so it doesn’t matter that I’ll soon be routinized. I pretty much talk about anything, as long as it relates to being in London, or some weekend trip that I could do, or someone I saw walking down the street…the point is, I will not disappoint. Plus, I’m not even in my own flat yet…not that I’m bragging, (in fact, that’s more depressing than anything), and once all of the setup stages are done and the partying becomes standard practice, I will continue to prove myself to you, the readers. This is attempt number one:

Do you know those fluffy top hats with the union jack on the front that you always see tourists wearing on TV? (You know: the kind that you would never actually wear in public even if it was given to you as a gift on a dare but secretly want one because it’s so cliché?) Well, I’ll cautiously admit that I secretly want one; although I guess it’s no longer a secret. And I also want an England t-shirt. I’ll probably be able to resist the urge for now, but I can definitely see myself getting one before I move back home for good. I was at Buckingham Palace a couple weeks ago (yes, for the changing of the guards – which on a side note was way better than I expected since everyone really bummed it out before I went) and all I saw everywhere I went (in addition to the ceremony) were Italians wearing those hats. This got me thinking. Could this be a new fashion fad that the crazy Italian designers picking up on? Could you imagine Versace English fluffy hats? Dolce & Gabbana Union Jack flags? Giorgio Armani Big Ben logoed blazers? No. I doubt it. “Damn tourists”, I thought. But then it occurred to me: I’M A TOURIST! (Which means I’m technically allowed to buy a hat; and if there’s a will there’s a way!)

My being a tourist REALLY hit me last Saturday, (I know I wasn’t going to talk about day-to-day stuff in this blog, but I need a timeline for my stories, otherwise they’d become unrealistic and could easily be made up) when I went on a quest to find Abbey Road. Yes, the same Abbey Road that the Beatles shot their notorious “Abbey Road” album cover, the same Abbey Road where Abbey Road Studios are, and the same Abbey Road that tourist FLOCK to just to have their picture taken crossing the infamous intersection. I did the same, but due to technical difficulties and me apparently not being able to walk properly I didn’t get a good picture. Plus, it was cloudy…unlike the picture on the album. It’s clear I am not a Beatle.

This morning the scale of my life really hit me. Exactly one year and two days ago I was watching the Rolling Stones in Seattle, WA. One year and three days ago we dressed up for Halloween and made a “shark attack” video on Robson Street in Vancouver after a full day of driving through the Rockies. And the days leading up to that…one year and six days ago I had one of the single-most expensive day of my life – traveling in taxis, buses, airplane - a day where I touched ground in 4 different Central American countries and flew over all of the others – ranging from northwestern Yucatan peninsula in Mexico to Belize City to San Salvador to San Jose, CR all because of one huge bitch they called Hurricane Wilma. Madness, it was. Memories – the kind that would put Cats to shame. And now, just one year later I am once again not in Canada, so that just means there is still hope for the world, I reckon.

I counted my countries the other day. After now being in the UK, I counted 19. My cousin’s flat mate has been to 55, which needless to say, dwarfs me. I definitely look forward to increasing my number, but in my current state of not having expendable income (or ANY income, for that matter), I’ll probably start it up again in winter.

Also, Halloween was yesterday. I celebrated with candy and beer. (I drank the beer and ate the candy.) Kids don’t really DO Halloween here, save for grocery store advertising and drinking-aged costume shop purchases. That being said, I’m close to in Camden Town at the moment, so seeing people in goth uniforms/emo-trash pants (trousers) and/or crazy makeup is not uncommon practice.

Oh, and I got a job. No, I’ve never been so unexcited about accepting a job; no, I don’t see myself being in this place for very long; and if you ask me about the details, no, I won’t tell you. But that’s not the point. Job = Money = better life than having not money.

Better with pictures?

Oh, and Challenger: I accept.