Story of a Boy and a Girl #5
Since that night, I started coming down to London almost every weekend in order to spend time with B. When Friday approached, I’d pack some clothes, run to the coach station (I was always running late for my coach for some reason), and wriggle around in my seat annoying the person next to me because I couldn’t wait to get to London! This is a really interesting fact that I observed during that period: every Friday I went down to London, it would be absolutely brilliantly sunny. Every Sunday when I returned from London, it would start raining. It's true! London is totally my destiny location!
I can’t remember everything we did during those weekends, but usually we’d go to museums, watch a movie, hang out in a park, or go for a walk. He’s not really the type of person who’d normally do those kind of things, but he’d still do something he didn’t want to if it made me happy. It must have been a pain to hang out with me at times. I remember one Saturday, it was so freaking sunny, and I felt like I needed to walk in that boiling sun. I’m a walking fanatic (there must be a walking fanatic gene, because my dad is too), I can walk for miles and miles. I suggested we walk from B’s university halls (in South Kensington) to Camden Town. B agreed very, very reluctantly to my proposal, and I bounced outside excitedly to begin our journey. It took us a few hours to get to Camden, then we walked around in Camden Market another few hours, by which time B was complaining that he was tired and was going to drop into bed the moment we got back home. Poor thing. I didn’t even dare suggest that we walk back home.
During these weekends, I gradually started getting to know him better. The more time I spent with him, the more I realised how different we are. Our backgrounds, lives, outlooks on life, future plans, personalities, humour, everything differed. I constantly asked myself whether I could really see us together. Because we were never friends prior to dating, and because we didn’t have much in common (especially not interest-wise, as he absolutely despises Harry Potter, grr!), it was hard to find topics to talk about at first. I felt that whenever we did talk about something, we’d only manage to squeeze out a few sentences before we’d run out of things to say, we never managed to hold a discussion. I also generally disliked having lunch or dinner alone with him, because that’s when we have to sit face to face and have all the time in the world to talk. Sometimes it got really quiet that the only sound audible was the clinging of our cutlery on plates, I hated those awkward moments. Despite my doubts about us, I kept on coming down to London every weekend, as there was nothing stopping me to come. I was also afraid to just give up on us, what if we could potentially become something meaningful and special?
Gradually, the Easter holidays approached, and B had to fly back to Hong Kong due to some very bad family issues, and he was gone for three weeks.
To be continued…!
The last few days
On Monday, when I departed from Stockholm to London, I expected the entire coming week to be busy, but pretty dead and quiet. My plan was to prepare for med-school interviews, look for volunteer stuff and start putting my room up for rent. I thought everyday would be pretty much the same. That has definitely not been the case.
I arrived home on Monday night after, as mentioned previously, waiting ages for my suitcase and filling in a lost baggage form. I was starving by the time I got home, and could not be bothered to cook anything, not to mention I had no ingredients to cook with anyway. Thank God for McDonald's, Big Mac saved my stomach that night. While chewing on my fries and burger, I posted an ad on Gumtree to rent out my room. About 10 minutes later, a guy called me and told me he was interested in the room and arranged to view it Tuesday evening.
I was told to stay at home on Tuesday by the airport baggage staff because they said my suitcase would be delivered to me at some point that day. I also got three more calls from people who wanted to come and see the room that evening. At about midday, two workers came in to replace the boiler in our flat. The entire day comprised of lots of waiting and calling, waiting for my suitcase, for the viewers, for the boiler to be finished so that I can get some water and finally flush the toilet again, calling the baggage staff when they failed to turn up by the evening, calling volunteer centres, etc.etc. At about nine that evening, the boiler was finally installed, and all the viewers had come and seen my room. They all gave me the same answer: "I'll let you know if I'm interested when I've seen a few more rooms". By the end of the night, one of the guys said he wanted to take the room. Woohoo, I ticked one thing off my to-do-list!
He came in yesterday, and we discussed the rent and bills and deposit and everything. He's moving in on Monday, which means I'm moving out Monday morning. The remaining day was spent waiting for the baggage staff and being angry at the airline. When I tried to call the customer service number, I got directed to voicemail to leave my contact details, and they'd ring me up. Ok, so I left three freaking messages, and no one rang me up. Great service. KLM sucks, guys, do not fly with KLM. It feels good to publicly annouce that. This afternoon, I'm going to go to the airport myself and demand I get my suitcase and compensation for making me wait at home for two days and my travel expenses. I need my suitcase, because once I have my suitcase, I can start packing my things for Monday.
As much as I'm looking forward to moving in with my boyfriend, I'm trying to not have any expectations of how it will be. Last time, I enjoyed it, it was by far one of the happiest time of my life, if not the happiest. However, there're no guarantees that it will be the same this time around. Maybe we'll just not be able to get along as well as last time. Maybe I'll be kicked out of the flat when we fight and end up roaming the streets..!
Quirky London Details #9
Although on the other hand, it does give customers a clue about how old the apples must be. They must have been sold before Christmas, so they've been on the shelf for at least 10 days, yuck!!
Home sweet second home
I'm back to one of the most awesome places on earth: London! My trip back was less awesome though. I transferred in Amsterdam again, and for the first time in my life, when I went to claim my baggage in Heathrow, my lovely purple suitcase never arrived on that black-belt-spinning-around-thing. So I had to stand in line for half and hour to talk to one of those lost baggage staff, and filled in a form for another half an hour. It turns out my poor suitcase was left behind in Amsterdam's freaking airport. The staff must be pretty colourblind in Amsterdam to not have noticed a purple coloured suitcase among all the other black-coloured ones. At least I'm grateful it wasn't lost, because I don't think I would ever recover from the loss of all my clothes! They're supposed to deliever it to my flat tomorrow, by which time the food (which was supposed to be my dinner tonight) in the suitcase will have molded and probably stink. Great.
Ok, enough whining. I had a great time back in Sweden! I was only there for 9ish days, and even though my dad wasn't home for Christmas and New Year's, it was ok. I had forgotten how my sister and I usually clash and disagree about pretty much everything and how we have fights about the things we disagree on (siblingish fights, not actual fist/cat fights). So it was nice to have some fights with her again, it really brought back the familiar feeling of home. So did our other activities: playing poker, watching Chinese TV-series, going shopping, and making dumplings. I tried to be appreciative and make an effort to spend each day with my mum and sister well, because I only had 9 days (well much less actually as I was not at home for about 4 of those), which is why I had such a great time back home.
I am glad to be back in London, because I love this place. I'm not looking forward to spending most of this week by myself though, as most of my flatmates and friends are still not back yet. Besides, I miss my boyfriend so freaking much. I've never missed anyone like this before, like I can't be completely happy without his presence even though I do things that make me happy, like meeting up with a friend or watching a funny film. So I hope this week will pass like a swish of wind and let next week come in the blink of an eye!
There are lots of things I need to get done that will keep me busy, which will get me through this week. I need to prepare for my med-school interviews, do interviews for volunteer work in hospitals/care homes etc., put my room in this flat up for rent (I'm moving in with my boyfriend), do more med-school applications for various universities in Europe among lots of other annoying things. Gah. However, I will spend tonight just watching TV series and eating Marabou chocolate (I need to stock up on energy to start my busy week!). Now back to my chocolate, bye!
Story of a Boy and a Girl #4
After that "Happy Valentine's Day" text from B, we continued to stay in touch through texts and phone calls the next few weeks. Receiving a text from him were the highs of my days. During this text/phone call period, I started liking him more and more, and hoped that he felt the same about me. He asked me when I would come to London to visit MF the next time. I said I didn't know because I didn't like sleeping over at MF's room as it got so crowded with her roommate there too, which was half true. I secretly wanted him to tell me that I could sleepover at his place, because he has a spare couch in his room. The lovely merciful God must have heard my prayer, because B mentioned that he has a couch in his room, and if I wanted to, he didn't mind me sleeping on the couch, ehehe.
So after playing a bit doubtful of his suggestion (as I didn't want to appear too desperate!), I agreed to go to London the coming weekend and I was to sleep on his couch. Inside, I was so damn happy, I could have done a funky victorious dance had my au pair family not been at the spot to question my sanity! So that Friday I packed some things and went off to London. On my way there while I was sitting on the coach, I suddenly got cold feet and started doubting my ability to make judgments. Shit, what the hell was I thinking? What am I doing? I'm going to spend 2 nights with a guy I hardly know!
I got to London, and we spent that Friday night having dinner with some of his coursemates. They of course couldn't help but tease us about spending the night together, which we tried our best to ignore and act innocent! We watched a film in his room later that night, just him and me, and he only had 1 chair, so we had to share it. It felt warm and lovely when our legs brushed against each other's.
Next morning, we went to the National Portrait Museum, or whatever it's called, and looked at people's portraits. The portraits were...interesting, but the more interesting event that day was that night when we were just about to go to sleep and he asked me if I wanted to sleep in his bed. Hah, I froze to make sure I heard right, and then got up and crept into his bed. As we continued to talk, he wrapped his arms around me, and put a hand on my lower back. I was babbling about something then, and he interrupted me and asked me if I was nervous. I said yeah, how did you know? He said I started talking twice as fast when he put his hand on my back. When he asked me if he could kiss me, I probably talked x100 as fast, as that made me thoroughly nervous. I said ok even though I was scared to death as he approached my mouth with his lips, because I didn't know how to kiss! That night I slept in his arms and it was lovely. It was all I wanted and needed as waves of happiness and warmth washed through me.
To be continued...!
Story of a Boy and a Girl #3
I struggled to get my speech through, especially because he didn't always respond the way I imagined in my mind! In the end, I gave up following my speech and just improvised, which caused me to stutter a lot as I was pretty nervous. So after some confusion and many repetitions, we eventually agreed to meet up the following afternoon. It's kind of funny now to think in retrospect of my call, going to see an exhibition of dead bodies, and on that day. First, B hates seeing anything internal of the body, let alone dead bodies. Second, I woke him up with my call that afternoon, because he had just come back to London from Hong Kong that morning.
The next day I met him outside his halls, and I wasn't late! I made sure I would be on time, I couldn't give him the impression that I'm always late for appointments on our very first outing (he did eventually realise that during our second, third, fourth etc.etc. dates though). We took the tube for about an hour to the exhibition place, and honestly, I can't really remember our tube journey much. I do remember I was not too nervous meeting him, although I did try to be as funny as possible.
The exhibition was fascinating! I almost forgot I was with him and because I became completely immersed in my own world of brains, kidneys, muscle tissue, embryos and everything there. On our way back home on the tube, I remember how my heart raced when he took one of my hands when he saw the long scar on my thumb. His thumb stroked my scar while I tried to calm my jumping heart, and recall to him how I managed to hammer a sharp tool into my thumb while I was crafting a wooden elephant in my crafts class, how the blood squirted all over my elephant and floor while I was stupidly looking around for the source of the blood, not realising it came from my own damn finger.
We had dinner together that evening with MF in Burger King, and I guess that was his first experience of my weirdness (or at least he claims it's weird, but I still don't agree that it's weird), because I ordered fries and ice-cream, and had some fries together with the ice-cream. Towards the end of the evening, the three of us hung out in his room playing a card game. The loser of each game had to drink vodka mixed with salt, pepper and vinegar. The drink tasted like sour, peppery urine, it was so freaking horrible, and I kept on losing! When it got late that night, I left with MF to go back to her halls. I felt the day went alright, and it was a fun day (how can it not be fun with dead bodies to goggle at??).
I didn't have any expectations of how B was as a person, because I never really got a proper opportunity to interact with him before our date, but my impression of him that day was that he was a bit weird, and a little hard to get to know and interact with. When I got back to MF's room, I texted him, and told him I had a good day. He texted back that he did too and wished me a happy Valentine's Day. I hardly noticed it was Valentine's Day, but in retrospect, I think it's a really cool coindence that our first date was on Valentine's Day.
To be continued...!
2010!!! (+ Some random thoughts)
Today is 01-01-2010. Holy shit.
I spent New Year's Eve at my friend's sleepover. At half eleven I wrapped myself in at least 5 layers of clothing of various thicknesses against the freezing -15 night, and we ran to the lakeside to not miss the midnight fireworks. However, it was a pity that we somehow managed to not realise the clock had struck midnight until 00:03. We had the most perfect and beautiful view for fireworks I've ever seen. We stood on a hill top right along a lake, so we had the view of fireworks on our side of the lake (and groups of drunk people as additional entertainment) while the fireworks on the other side of the lake acted as background decoration.
When the colourful flowers were all exploding in the air above my head and the sound of tinnitus ringing in my ear, I felt streams of excitement shoot through me. A new year, a new decade, with new opportunities, adventures, and experiences. This was the first time in ages that I've welcomed the next year with open arms, excitement and anticipation. There've been too many years in the past when I've been able to basically predict how my next year will be, with it turning out that I'm not such a bad seer, i.e. my predictions have all been pretty accurate. But this year, as I tried to picture the coming year in my head, I couldn't picture it. I love the fact that I have no freaking clue how my year is going to look like, I love this unpredictableness (what's the noun? I definitely made that one up). There are so many questions running through my mind that I couldn't answer: will I finally get into med-school? How will my med-school interviews go? How much longer will I stay in London? What else will happen to me in London? Will I move in with my boyfriend? Will we last the entire year? Or two, three, four years? Will I fall completely in love with him? Will my sister move to America? Will my parents move to China?
I've realised there are two ways to look at New Year. I've always looked at it as a new start even though I've not always been positive about it, usually just neutral. A few days ago, I met up with a few friends in town, and we were discussing what our plans were during New Year's Eve. One of them (the slightly more pessimistic one) who had no solid plans argued that it's quite stupid to celebrate a new year, because it's a day just like any other day if you think about it. She does have a point, it is just another day in our lives as usual. It's not like we're going to feel any significant changes in the range of 24 hours between the 31st and the 1st. We've sort of made up the concept of a "new" year, while it's really just a linear continuation of our days. Right now, I have to argue that I prefer to think of the new year as a a new start. Maybe it's because I've been feeling happy and optimistic lately, but I think the notion of a "new start" is a good thought. It mentally prepares us for another few hundred days of our lives, and gives us determination and motivation to initiate or improve areas of our lives.
Guys, let's make this year a good one not only for ourselves, but also for each other. Let's look out for each other, help and support each other. Have a good year!
Philosophical Musing #4 - Happiness
It's a very true quote, isn't it? We all tend to see happiness as a destination. And maybe that's the problem, maybe that's why so many people are unhappy. For instance, just look at the concept of "happily ever after". It gives us the notion that after an intense victorious battle against the obstacles blocking our path to happiness, we finally each our destination and automatically become happy. However, that's not always the case. We know perfectly well that even after we reach our destination, we'll want and demand even more, or something will happen that will knock us out of our happiness destination zone. So how do we make happiness a method of life instead of merely a destination?
I think what we forget to do is to appreciate the things we already have in life. Last summer, I made a list of the things in life that I am grateful for. It got so damn long that I used multiple pages and I still have things to add to it, constantly. It ranged from not being disabled to having a great (but sometimes annoying!) sister to being able to read my Harry Potter books. Whenever I read through that list, it makes me feel like life is full of oppotunities, like I can accomplish anything I set my mind to, and it makes me feel very lucky and even happy.
So I think being appreciative more often of what we already have in life instead of sulking and constantly demanding more is one way of making happiness a method of life. Yes, one may argue that a person can have very little to be appreciative about in life, but that person would probably gain more happiness from being appreciative of what he or she has rather than depressing about what he or she doesn't have, yeah? Although I agree that it is indeed difficult to feel appreciative when you're feeling very low.
What other ways are there to make happiness a method of life? Enlighten me.
Back Home
Well, I've been back home in Sweden for about 28 hours and 4 minutes. It's been great to be with my mum and sister. We've eaten (well, more accurately, mainly I devoured) in addition to our Chinese version of Christmas dinner, tons of crisps, chocolate, nuts and stuff, gone shopping, spent some (I don't want to know how many) hours in front of the television watching addicting Chinese series, as well as attempted to exercise.
It feels quite weird to be back in Sweden. Everything's so familiar in a way, but at the same time, I feel like everything is worlds apart from what I've become used to during the last one and a half month. I constantly have to stop myself from doing things that I've become very accustomed to doing, like greeting the cashier with a "Hiyaa!" (to which they usually respond with a puzzled look because they can't figure out what I just said) or apologising in English for elbowing or stepping on someone.
Being back in Sweden, as much as I love spending time with my mum and sister, I've already started missing London! I miss hearing English all around me, I miss the self check-out machines in the supermarkets (especially when I have to stand in line for 10s of minutes because the cashier is taking his/her damn time), I miss my boyfriend, hanging out with him, being in his flat, sleeping in his arms, everything really. I suppose he is the main reason I miss London so much, because to me, he takes up about 90% of my concept of London (does that make sense?).
However, I am very happy and grateful to be back home too. It'll be great fun, spending another 8ish days with my mum, sister and friends.
On a completely different note, I have to display my awesome Santa for you guys. Before leaving for London in the beginning of November, I got a Santa statue as a parting gift. Not only is he sculpted in a sexy squating position, but listen to this: there is a hole in his arse, and if you punch this swith under his feet, it will cause him to shoot out fat-ass poo droppings (brown jelly beans) which you can then stuff your mouth with! Best Santa statue ever.
Oh, and apprently, there was a a teorrist on a plane from Amsterdam to Detroit yesterday. According to BBC, he tried to set off a bomb on the plane while it was landing in Detroit, but was stopped by passengers before the explosion took place. It's kinda creepy, cause I was transfering flights in Amsterdam yesterday, and I think I actually walked past the gate of the flight to Detroit.
Quirky London Details #8
Since I was strolling so slowly, I noticed this tiny alley way that led off from Oxford Street. It was so tiny in comparison to the wide Oxford Street that most people just walked past it without noticing it. But the alley was absolutely beautiful! Despite its smallness compared to Oxford Street, it had much prettier Christmas lightings!
The entrance of the alley
This photo doesn't do the lights justice. The green lights were so much more greener and lit up the entire side of the building it was hung beside. These lights run across the entire length of the alley, in different colours, like an illuminating rainbow!
Sort of like that, but 100000 times more colourful and beautiful.
On my way home, I took the tube back. There was no way I was going to walk back to where I came from through that crowd again. At the entrance to the tube station, there were so many people that wanted to go down that it was causing a freaking queue to get into the station. To make things even more exciting, there was an old lady standing right beside the queue, yelling "You will all be damned to a life in hell if you don't accept God!!" I swear everyone was fighting down the urge to stick their middle finger in her direction.
Story of a Boy and a Girl #2
There was an ongoing exhibition, called Body World, of real dead bodies that had been solidified and were on display in the O2 arena in London. The bodies were donated by people who had signed a consent form that after death their body would allowed to be used and displayed for educational purposes. There was also a display of individual organs, usually a healthy one displayed beside an unhealthy one. I remember I was completely dumbfounded by an unhealthy heart which had undergone such extensive hypertrophy (enlargement) due to some disease, that it had become horrificly humongous. I was so freaking amazed by the body's ability to stand, and to a certain degree repair and compensate for injuries and diseases. Oops, went a little off topic there. My main point is that Body World was a really popular exhibition, and being the medicine freak I am, it was like my destiny to go.
So my masterplan was to somehow get B to go with me. That would be like killing two flies in one go (is that an English expression?) - I would get to see the lovely corpses as well as spend time with B. There was one obstacle to overcome though: I didn't have any contact with B and didn't have any of his contact details either. I could've just asked MF for his number, but that would be a very suspicious action. I went down to London to visit MF again two weeks later, we went to Westfield shopping centre that afternoon. While she was in Zara, she found some clothes she wanted to try on, and I stayed outside the changing room carrying her coat and bag. I made an excuse to use her mobile phone, I said I needed to text someone, but my phone was not working properly. She let me borrow hers, and while she was inside trying on clothes, I grabbed her phone and saved B's number on my own. Brilliant eh!
Next step was to find somewhere to call him without MF being around to overhear. It was getting late that Friday afternoon, and I felt like I really needed to make that call to invite him to the exhibition before he made any other plans for Saturday afternoon. Coming out of Zara, we walked past this huge book shop, and I suggested we go in there. MF raised her eyebrows and looked at me in disbelief, since when had I become interested in book shops! Of course I hadn't, but I knew she couldn't say no to browsing books being the book nerd she is. She would spend ages in there, which would give me plenty of time to take a deep breath, practice on what I was going to say to B on the phone, and actually call him while trying not to freak out. After about 5 seconds in the shop, MF was already completely absorbed in a book, so I sneaked outside to make that call.
To be continued...!
Story of a Boy and a Girl #1
I met my boyfriend (just B for future reference) through a mutual friend, which I imagine is probably how most people meet their significant others. At that time, I had just started doing my au pairing in Nottingham, and came down to London to visit that mutual friend (I'm nicknaming her MF, because I can't be bothered to type "mutual friend" all the time). MF called up a bunch of her coursemates to hang out together, and we went to see a comedy show. At first, there were so many new people introduced to me, that to be honest, I didn't notice B. He's the quiet type and there were too many loud types around. At the venue though, he sat behind me, and during the break of the show we all started chatting. Well, actually, because I was still rather shy then, I was doing most of the listening while the loud types were doing most of the loud chatty stuff. Then I remember B asking me "Why are you so quiet?" That's when I started noticing B, I was impressed that he paid attention to such a detail.
On the bus home, I was hoping to get to sit next to B, which I did. I remember I was trying to be funny, so I joked about MF's cooking skills, bashing it completely (sorry MF, your cooking really isn't that bad!). I didn't really have any opportunities the remaining evening to chat to B though even though I desperately wanted to. I remember staring at him a lot when I thought he wasn't looking. As people generally don't have eyes on their backsides, my eyes were glued to his back and arse, and I was thinking how hot his body was, how much I'd love to run my hand down his back among other (relatively innocent) things (I swear!). There was just something about him (not just his body), which to this day I can't explain or pinpoint what, that attracted me.
I went back to Nottingham the next day with him popping into my mind with 5 second intervals. The thought of him made me so cheerful for some reason that on the coach ride back home, I randomly started chatting to the passenger next to me (cheerfulness>shyness I guess eh). To this day, I still have her mobile number saved on my phone, but I've never dialled it.
To be continued...!
Random Christmas Thoughts
Random thought #2: I've been asked multiple times by curious people whether I celebrate Christmas, because I come from a Chinese family but we live in Sweden. I think Christmas is a great tradition. It gives people something to look forward to during the dark and freezing December month. It lights up December and infects it with such festive spirit. So hell yeah we celebrate Christmas, and I think even if it is not in your culture to celebrate it, there's no reason not to. Besides the great family gathering part, you must be nuts to pass a chance of getting presents and eating yummy cakes and sweets and stuff!
Random thought #3: I'm really looking forward to flying back home to Sweden. I've been counting down the days, and I have four nights left in this empty flat. I've downloaded tons of happy films to keep my mind occupied so it doesn't start wondering off to think about how lonely I am! 500 Days of Summer and Love Actually are good happy films for anyone stuck in the same situation as I am. The effects of the films are probably going to wear off by Christmas Eve when it's completely dead out on the streets though, because people are all in their homes with their families, which is probably going to depress me.
Random thought #4: I've promised myself to get at least one piece of (cheap) Christmas decoration for my room to increase my Christmas spirit feeling (as I currently have none), and today I found the perfect cheap thing: a chocolate santa lollipop. I intend to consume it when I'm depressed on Christmas Eve. That's why it's so perfect!
(Heh, I didn't realise there was a skull reflected in the mirror. That was not intentional, I love santa!)
On a completely different note: today I received an e-mail from the University of St Andrews with a medicine interview offer! I was utterly delighted and I'm already a little bit excited and nervous about it even though it's going to take place in February. Great surprise!
A Good Year
I remember vaguely that at the end of 2008, I experienced a really frustrating time due to various reasons. I really wanted to get out of Sweden, do something new and unpredictable, be in a new environment with new people in the new year. Because I had such a short time to arrange everything, I decided I was going to do some au pairing. It's a fairly quick process to find a family, sign the contract and just fly away where long-term accommodation is already organised. So I found a nice family in Nottingham, and flew over there on the 17th of January 2009. I spent almost 6 months with them, and it was a good experience. I not only learned how to change nappies and bribe kids with sweets, but probably more importantly that kids are a freaking big responsibility. I also learned and improved a lot of other things, like communication, interaction, independence etc. During this time, I also met my boyfriend in London, and I spent most of my weekends with him in his halls at university. Nottingham was such a relaxing (excluding the kids part) and chill period, which was really nice to have. Eventually, by June though I started to get bored of what I was doing, and by the end of June I went back to Sweden.
Back in Sweden, I had to start applying for universities and do all those entrance exams and write applications and personal statements and all that crap. This period was kind of hard, because I was thousands of miles apart from my boyfriend, and my mom pressured me with all that university stuff. It's understandable though, because I had to take another gap year as I didn't get any offers from the universities I applied to for the 2009-entry. My boyfriend had to face some really bad family issues too, and lots of other reasons made it generally a relatively low period. The only thing I looked forward to and motivated me was 1) meeting my boyfriend again and 2) Moving to London. Moving to London had been on my mind for a while then, not only because my boyfriend would be in London, but I wanted to do something different and take a risk (again) before commencing on my medicine studies in 2010 (provided that I get offers this year).
So finally, after my last exams for med-school at the end of October, and after lots of convincing my parents that I will study in London for further med-school admissions exams and not forget about my university applications, and that I won't die in London, they eventually let me go off to London. And from here onwards, my life has been documented through my blog.
Honestly, 2009 has been an awesome year. Not in the sense that everything has been great and happy, more in the sense that it's been a fulfilling and satisfying year. I can look back and say I lived life. To me, living life means doing and experiencing things you never did before, experiencing the dips and peaks, but not regretting anything. I really, really hope 2010 will be an equally exciting and unpredictable year, where in a year's time I will be writing "I can look back and say I lived life" again.
Thanks for a good year everyone! Happy new year (in advance)!!!
Quirky London Details #7
Vrooooom!
Random notes: On Friday, I did my last work shift for 2009. It was a long and super busy shift, from 2pm-01:30am, and needless to say, I was completely dead afterwards. Everyone has been talking about Christmas shopping the past week, and yesterday I figured it was probably time I started too. So, a friend from work and I braved the freeeezing weather and went to Southbank Market and Camden Market for Christmas gift hunt. Besides the fact that our fingers and toes and other various body parts froze to numbness, I managed to get a few Christmas gifts. I just got my salary on Friday, so people who I picked out presents for yesterday, consider yourselves lucky as I was feeling extra generous with the price, hoho!
I love the markets in London, but one thing that really annoys me is the fact that in all the Christmas markets, German Bratwursts have completely invaded the food market. They're not even that good, just weird and too huge and look like genitalia. On a completely different note, Southbank is a beautiful place, and we had the most beautiful view with Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament across the river, look!
Quirky London Details #6
Here's #6, which is my favourite one so far. On a building along the river Thames with a Romanish design, there're these neon lights that light up the words "Everything is going to be alright". So freaking random, but so freaking cool.
Changes
1. I think the greatest change is that I've become a lot more outgoing. Well, actually, I think I've just become more myself around strangers, because I'm rather outgoing beneath my surface of shyness and reservedness (that a word?). Also, that shyness around strangers is much less now. It's so much easier to interact with strangers, and I hardly feel like I need to make an immense effort to interact with them like I did before. In the beginning, arriving at work, I'd always be afraid I wouldn't know anyone there. Nowadays I hardly care about that, because I'll end up getting to know a few more people by the end of the night (including mixing up their names and backgrounds, e.g. a Kate and a Katee studying linguistics and translation). I love chatting to strangers, I love getting to know someone new and getting to know their background and path of life, I love their impressed reaction when I tell them I've just moved here from Sweden a month ago, I love joking and being myself around them. I've even improved my flirting skills, because all the porters at work are young males, and I get along with a few of them, and it's great fun..!
2. Another noticable change is a growth of muscle in my left arm from carrying trays loaded with heavy stuff at work.
3. I've become more independent. I do and sort everything by myself out. Make phone calls, sign contracts, make arrangements, make my own judgments etc.
4. Living with my boyfriend for almost a month, he's really grown on me. Living without him now, I realise what a comfort he's been throughout my life in London. He always takes care of me when I myself can't even be bothered to. He does these little things that make me smile, like buys me brownies (a definite way to win my heart, if any guys want to compete, haha). He's great. I'm happy with him, I think.
5. I daresay there is a sliiiight improvement in my cooking skills! I can now make salmon for myself which I enjoy eating, yum! I also made chicken soup and fish soup!
Hmm, looking at this list, London has been a positive experience. All worth it, yeah?
Quirky London Details #5
Yup, that's me, ehehehehe!
I have a feeling I will be spending an excessive amount of my salary on more t-shirts from that shop..!
Oh, and a few words about yesterday's work shift. I was based in the iMAX cinema in Waterloo, the one where there is a huge screen and everything is like shown in 3D with people wearing ugly 3D spectacles. Everyone was wondering what the event would be, because all we knew in advance was that it was to be a reception, which could mean anything, from an actual stupid reception to a film premiere. When we arrived there (I was very hopeful about a red carpet and meeting celebrities!), we were told that it was a film premiere for the investors of the new huge film Avatar. Well, not as celebrity-packed as I had hoped, just full of stinking rich people, but it was pretty cool working at the iMAX anyway. I did about 3 hours of wandering around doing nothing, because my task started at 7pm and my shift started at 4pm. I went to the porters to ask if they needed help, and they told me to go away because I might break the glasses, hah, and then went to the chefs, and got to do some pickle and ketchup burger-stuffing for about 10 minutes before all the burgers were done, then back to wandering around. Chillest shift ever. Shame we didn't get to watch the film with the investors.
Quirky London Details #4
Have some effing respect
I meet all kinds of guests attending the events I work at. I guess the majority of them treat us, the waiting and other members of staff, serving them generally quite ok, they smile and usually show their gratitude with a thanks or nod. There are, however, also a surprisingly vast amount of guests at every event that treat us as if just because we are paid to do the work, it is ok to treat us as slaves that serve their masters.
It is freaking difficult work serving guests. You need to serve them with a smile, even though they answer your smile with a cold stare. You need to treat them with respect even though they look at you as slaves. You need to carry their heavy plate of meaty food all the way from the kitchen to their table, which can sometimes be several hundred metres in the bigger venues. Very often it happens that they give a disgusted look at the food and tell you that they're a vegetarian, at which point you have to fight down the overwhelming urge to chuck with all your might the food right in the middle of their face and hope to break their nose, because they should have let the event managers know in advance. You must now carry the food back all the way, and run back with a vegetarian fucking plate.
When clearing away glasses and bottles and plates and all the leftover crap, you carry a tray in one hand, and use the other hand to load the empty stuff on. When your tray is already full and heavy as a big slab of cement, because most of the glasses and bottles still have liquid in them, most guests seem to assume that besides waiting, we all also have the hobby of bodybuilding with unlimited strength in our arms, and pile even more bottles onto the tray. Sometimes it causes the other stuff already on the tray to fall and break, and they look at you apologetically, and then turn around and walk away as if they're still an angel leaving you in a shower or shattered glass (luckily, another Esprit staff will be at your side in seconds to help you though). Another even more annoying thing is that when you're looking one way loading stuff onto your tray, guests come at you from another direction, and without notifying you, just start putting things onto your tray. I guess the most logic explanation of that action is that guests are completely thick, because they can't figure out that when we look in one direction, we can't see them putting things from another direction, and the outcome is very often that the whole tray tilts and falls. Well, they do the same thing and act like angels and float away. More annoyingly is when the venue is packed with people, and you're trying to clear stuff, walking around with a loaded tray. Some guests see you coming, but refuse to make way for you to get through with your tray for some bizarre reason, at which point you nearly yell in utter desperation: OI, YOU FUCKING BASTARD, do I have to slam into you with my tray and cause all the drinks to fall on your ugly suit for you to realise that you need to get out of my fucking way?!!
This is just the tip of the iceberg of the behaviour of guests. So please guys, if you're reading this, remember next time when you attend an event, go to a restaurant, or do anything or go anywhere where people are servicing you in any way, please treat them with respect, do not treat them as slaves. They are paid to do the work, yes, but you will make their work so much easier and also a more pleasant experience for youself, because if you treat them well, they will reciprocate the good treatment.
Puh, now that I've done my venting, I'm going to work at a wedding event today! Hope they will let us have the leftover cake, that will definitely shut my mouth from venting, hihihi.
