I am alive! I am sure my dedicated fanbase in, you know...Russia...have been very worried about my lack of updates. I'm just sure of it.
Well, here I am, finally on half-term holiday. I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, this has been the helfterm from hell. Work has been, without exaggerating, absolutely life-draining. As is my unfortunate annual tradition, I became ill and missed work. Unlike other years, I was off for 3 days last week and spent most of those 72 hours asleep and/or struggling to breathe. There has been so much pressure put on us at work, from all sides, that it has worn everyone down. Utterly and completely has taken our souls, violently, from our bodies. Well...I have a week to recover and get ready for the next halfterm. Oh joy.
There have been several noteworthy occasions over the past 8 weeks that I just haven't had the time to record. I went to the Warner Bro's Studio Tour where Harry Potter was filmed with Mary and Hannah as a late birthday gift. It was the best 4 hours that I have spent in a long time. The studio is divided up into several lots and, apart from a slightly guided tour at the beginning, it is really wander-and-experience on your own....loved it! Took a ridiculous amount of pictures and had an amazing time. I'd love to go back and see everything again.
Last weekend, I came to Norway to celebrate my brother-in-law's 30th birthday. My sister and I bought him a bottle of 30-year-old whiskey for his 30th birthday and I had to come to help take credit for it. I've told all the other important men in my life to expect the same gift on their 30th birthdays as it is one of my better ideas (if I can get away with saying that). I arrived Friday night and left again on Sunday and it was absolutely awesome. I saw all of Kristian's friends, met some new people and took over 400 pictures. Everything from Kristian opening his whiskey to beer pong to stacking red solo cups all over the birthday boy at 5AM. I was completely drained for work this last week, but it was definitely worth it.
I have made the decision to stay in England for Christmas this year. It's going to be very strange for me, being my first Christmas away from home, but I am excited to spend it with my English 'crew' as it were. I will definitely miss my family, the snow, and all those Christmas traditions that I have lived with for the past 25 years but I am excited to start some of my own. I am determined to continue with my eggnog ban and plan to spread the word to the English. They just need to know--it is that important. It is strange to think that I won't see my parents for almost a year and I definitely would have been much more upset when I left this summer, had I realized it then. School ends late for Christmas holiday this year and that would mean travelling through Heathrow on the busiest weekend of the year. Busiest weekend of the year = ridiculously expensive plane tickets = my first Christmas on the European side of the Atlantic. But, hey, spending Christmas in England, New Year's Eve in Norway and a holiday quickly following in February....not such a bad deal after all. I say that now. When I wake up to a green Christmas morning on December 25th, I might be singing from a different song sheet.
Thus far on my holiday, I have eaten food, walked the dog, been dragged by said dog, covered in drool from aforementioned dog, cooked and relaxed...a lot. I'm going back to England on Thursday night, just in time to wind down my holiday and start counting the days until Christmas break. Not that I would ever do that.
So, let's see. Work, Harry Potter studios, Kristian's birthday, Tanja (the dog) drooling, being introduced as a Canadian terrorist at the pub and getting ill...yep, that covers the last 8 weeks. I sincerely hope that it won't be another 8 before I update on here again. I have my loyal, dedicated and amazing readers to think of....all 6 of them.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Don't Cry For Me...
...I'm already dead.
From work.
Work is to me what Dementors were to Barty Crouch Jr. BOOM. Still coherent enough for a good HP reference.
From work.
Work is to me what Dementors were to Barty Crouch Jr. BOOM. Still coherent enough for a good HP reference.
Monday, August 27, 2012
So Long, Farewell
It's about that time again. My entire six-week holiday is 24 hours away from ending and I am on my way back to England tomorrow. It has gone by so incredibly fast and I can't believe I'm leaving tomorrow. I've started the goodbyes already; really, I started them two weeks ago. It doesn't seem to get any easier--it almost seems harder each time I leave. These six weeks have been filled with lunches with friends, Tim Hortons coffee & Timbits, watching hockey with my dad, looking at shooting stars around a campfire and spending (not enough) time with family and friends. I've had a great time at home and am sad to say goodbye.
I celebrated my 25th birthday yesterday surrounded by family and friends and it was a great way to end my trip. When I get back to England on Tuesday, I'll have a couple of days to unpack, catch up on sleep and get myself turned around again before I have a second round of birthday celebrations. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone when I get back to England.
Well. Until next time Canada. So long and thanks for all the fish. Eh.
I celebrated my 25th birthday yesterday surrounded by family and friends and it was a great way to end my trip. When I get back to England on Tuesday, I'll have a couple of days to unpack, catch up on sleep and get myself turned around again before I have a second round of birthday celebrations. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone when I get back to England.
Well. Until next time Canada. So long and thanks for all the fish. Eh.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Sunny Days!
It's been a week since I have left England and it feels like much, much longer than that. I've spent the last week relaxing, taking care of the gardens and talking to the cats an alarming amount. I've also spent the last week unwinding from one of those travel experiences that makes me want to take a canoe back to England next month.
After school finished, Tom was waiting to take me down to Heathrow. Thankfully, there was no traffic on the road and we made it to the airport with a couple hours to spare. No issues with check-in, security and I was lining up to finally board the plane to get home. I was sitting in the back of the plane--second row to the back, to be exact--and realized I had a window seat. Not too bad. Then I saw the women sitting beside me--a mother and daughter duo, the mother in her 50s or 60s, mother in her 80s or older. The women were Israeli, spoke very little English and seemed to have brought their entire lives with them in the form of carry-on luggage: stuffed in the overhead, piled on my seat, piled under all the seats in the row, including mine, and more on the laps of both women . What the hell happened to one piece per passenger? Nevertheless, up they get, the luggage is shifted and I'm squeezed in next to mama--and mama is one hefty woman.
As soon as the in-flight entertainment was switched on, Mother gets me to bring up the map of our flight on her screen (which isn't an easy thing to do when you can't see the damn screen) and then Daughter wants the same. I tried explaining I couldn't see her screen but told her step by step instructions, through which she kept shaking her head, saying "no, you--you, no me--you" and pointing to her screen. Around this time, the in-flight service started and, ignoring the looks the dynamic duo gave me, I was more than happy for an in-flight drink.
Every time I tried watching a movie, Mama would slap her large arm down on my armrest, effectively turning off my screen and making me want to pull my hair out. About four time, I tried delicately shifting her arm which just led her to really take hold of the arm rest and I gave up. It seemed like I wasn't destined to watch The Lorax after all. Well, turns out I was wrong.
Mama removes her arm from my armrest and I gleefully switch my TV back on. In the 30 seconds between turning my TV and my movie starting, I hear a sound. Crying. Not the usual screaming-baby-on-an-airplane-crying. But definitely crying. I look over and see Mama just wailing. Dear God. I lean forward and then seen daughter with a veil over her head, hands over her eyes and she is rocking back and forth, praying--loudly. The racket was drawing attention from, well, everyone. The cabin crew took turns coming and asking if they needed anything and were effectively ignored. I always got a sympathetic look...which didn't do much to stop the staring. The dynamic duo finally quiet down just in time for dinner. God knows that they didn't want the kosher meal specially prepared for them and they wanted to have a picnic at 37,000 feet. What a stink! I don't know if the food was prepared when Mama was still a young woman or what they put in it, but the entire back of the plane started smelling like their food...and it was not haute cuisine...just saying.
The remaining 5 or so endless hours of the flight didn't see much improvement. There was no personal air-flow control on the plane and both Mama and Daughter seemed to overheat quite quickly. So they were up about twice an hour. Every hour. And all that baggage had to go somewhere. Onto the seats, under my seat, on my lap. Good God. I couldn't get off that plane fast enough.
So, I've made it home for the next six weeks. Aside from a trip to Halifax for my Visa, I plan on relaxing at home and catching up with friends and family. I'm finally getting to enjoy some proper summer weather; it's not going to be much fun when I have to start wearing makeup or shoes again. Well...33 days left to enjoy it. Excellent.
After school finished, Tom was waiting to take me down to Heathrow. Thankfully, there was no traffic on the road and we made it to the airport with a couple hours to spare. No issues with check-in, security and I was lining up to finally board the plane to get home. I was sitting in the back of the plane--second row to the back, to be exact--and realized I had a window seat. Not too bad. Then I saw the women sitting beside me--a mother and daughter duo, the mother in her 50s or 60s, mother in her 80s or older. The women were Israeli, spoke very little English and seemed to have brought their entire lives with them in the form of carry-on luggage: stuffed in the overhead, piled on my seat, piled under all the seats in the row, including mine, and more on the laps of both women . What the hell happened to one piece per passenger? Nevertheless, up they get, the luggage is shifted and I'm squeezed in next to mama--and mama is one hefty woman.
As soon as the in-flight entertainment was switched on, Mother gets me to bring up the map of our flight on her screen (which isn't an easy thing to do when you can't see the damn screen) and then Daughter wants the same. I tried explaining I couldn't see her screen but told her step by step instructions, through which she kept shaking her head, saying "no, you--you, no me--you" and pointing to her screen. Around this time, the in-flight service started and, ignoring the looks the dynamic duo gave me, I was more than happy for an in-flight drink.
Every time I tried watching a movie, Mama would slap her large arm down on my armrest, effectively turning off my screen and making me want to pull my hair out. About four time, I tried delicately shifting her arm which just led her to really take hold of the arm rest and I gave up. It seemed like I wasn't destined to watch The Lorax after all. Well, turns out I was wrong.
Mama removes her arm from my armrest and I gleefully switch my TV back on. In the 30 seconds between turning my TV and my movie starting, I hear a sound. Crying. Not the usual screaming-baby-on-an-airplane-crying. But definitely crying. I look over and see Mama just wailing. Dear God. I lean forward and then seen daughter with a veil over her head, hands over her eyes and she is rocking back and forth, praying--loudly. The racket was drawing attention from, well, everyone. The cabin crew took turns coming and asking if they needed anything and were effectively ignored. I always got a sympathetic look...which didn't do much to stop the staring. The dynamic duo finally quiet down just in time for dinner. God knows that they didn't want the kosher meal specially prepared for them and they wanted to have a picnic at 37,000 feet. What a stink! I don't know if the food was prepared when Mama was still a young woman or what they put in it, but the entire back of the plane started smelling like their food...and it was not haute cuisine...just saying.
The remaining 5 or so endless hours of the flight didn't see much improvement. There was no personal air-flow control on the plane and both Mama and Daughter seemed to overheat quite quickly. So they were up about twice an hour. Every hour. And all that baggage had to go somewhere. Onto the seats, under my seat, on my lap. Good God. I couldn't get off that plane fast enough.
So, I've made it home for the next six weeks. Aside from a trip to Halifax for my Visa, I plan on relaxing at home and catching up with friends and family. I'm finally getting to enjoy some proper summer weather; it's not going to be much fun when I have to start wearing makeup or shoes again. Well...33 days left to enjoy it. Excellent.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
The Home Stretch
Well, I've finally made it to the home stretch. I am barely 2 weeks away from home and the end of my second year of teaching. It's been a long year, full of all kinds of new experiences, both the good and bad. There. That's the most reflective that I'll be in this post.
I'm proud to say that I am able to cross another place off of my bucket list. I visited Tintern Abbey, just across the Welsh border, a few days ago. To explain why this place drew me so much...
In my third year of university, I was taking an English Literature course and we had a 5 pound textbook...I'm not even close to exaggerating (I weighed the sucker). In this textbook were all of the texts, poems, extracts, sonnets, passages, soon and so forth, that we needed to have in our possession to be a successful English student. One such poem was Wordsworth's poem, aptly named "Tintern Abbey." Alongside the poem was a beautiful picture of the Abbey. At that moment, I knew that I had to see this place in person one day. It was such a beautiful, ethereal and almost too beautiful for words.
If I thought a picture of the place was spectacular, being there in person is almost indescribable. It was beauty beyond words and a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. So, another country and another site off my list.
Not much else to report...I think everyone is in countdown mode now, students and staff alike. Roll on summer.
Oh. I suppose I must now eat my words. Not only have I reconciled with Tom (we all remember Tom)...we're dating. True story.
Damn.
The British men finally got me.
I'm proud to say that I am able to cross another place off of my bucket list. I visited Tintern Abbey, just across the Welsh border, a few days ago. To explain why this place drew me so much...
In my third year of university, I was taking an English Literature course and we had a 5 pound textbook...I'm not even close to exaggerating (I weighed the sucker). In this textbook were all of the texts, poems, extracts, sonnets, passages, soon and so forth, that we needed to have in our possession to be a successful English student. One such poem was Wordsworth's poem, aptly named "Tintern Abbey." Alongside the poem was a beautiful picture of the Abbey. At that moment, I knew that I had to see this place in person one day. It was such a beautiful, ethereal and almost too beautiful for words.
If I thought a picture of the place was spectacular, being there in person is almost indescribable. It was beauty beyond words and a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. So, another country and another site off my list.
Not much else to report...I think everyone is in countdown mode now, students and staff alike. Roll on summer.
Oh. I suppose I must now eat my words. Not only have I reconciled with Tom (we all remember Tom)...we're dating. True story.
Damn.
The British men finally got me.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Lazy Norwegian Days
It's a tough life, this holiday stuff. It's my last half-term holiday of the year and I'm back in Norway for one last visit before heading home for the summer in just over a month. Sarah and Kristian have settled into their new house and I've been busy unpacking. Well, that is a slight exaggeration...I have unpacked when I've been told where things go. Otherwise, it's mostly been me hanging out with Kristian's parents St Bernard puppy, watching movies & relaxing. It's tough.
We went out for a joint birthday celebration on Saturday night for several of Kristian's friends. Sarah & Kristian said it wouldn't be a late night. So, at 3:30 AM, we arrive home and dig into some early-morning snacks. It was fun to see all of Kristian's friends and I had a really good time.
The sun never fully sets here this time of year so it is really hard to judge the time of day (or night) by how light or dark the sky is. Sarah & Kristian have a beautiful new home with lots of windows so I can follow the sun's progress throughout the day. Yes, that is how busy I am on holiday. Well, I have found time to do some cooking, break the cable that provides signal to the TV, almost put a few holes in the wall from opening a door too quickly and smacking into closet doors but that's just par for the course when it comes to me.
Back to school next week and then a roll-over two weeks following that. That is when all of the current year groups move up into the next year group: year 7 students move into year 8, year 8 into 9 and so on. I have a brand new timetable with new courses on it, so it will be interesting to adjust to. I'm sure I'll come round.
Based on the decibel level of Tanja's (the St Bernard) snoring, I can assume she is having a day just as relaxing as mine. I've said it before and I'll finish with it: it's a tough job, but somebody has to do it.
We went out for a joint birthday celebration on Saturday night for several of Kristian's friends. Sarah & Kristian said it wouldn't be a late night. So, at 3:30 AM, we arrive home and dig into some early-morning snacks. It was fun to see all of Kristian's friends and I had a really good time.
The sun never fully sets here this time of year so it is really hard to judge the time of day (or night) by how light or dark the sky is. Sarah & Kristian have a beautiful new home with lots of windows so I can follow the sun's progress throughout the day. Yes, that is how busy I am on holiday. Well, I have found time to do some cooking, break the cable that provides signal to the TV, almost put a few holes in the wall from opening a door too quickly and smacking into closet doors but that's just par for the course when it comes to me.
Back to school next week and then a roll-over two weeks following that. That is when all of the current year groups move up into the next year group: year 7 students move into year 8, year 8 into 9 and so on. I have a brand new timetable with new courses on it, so it will be interesting to adjust to. I'm sure I'll come round.
Based on the decibel level of Tanja's (the St Bernard) snoring, I can assume she is having a day just as relaxing as mine. I've said it before and I'll finish with it: it's a tough job, but somebody has to do it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)