London Rebounding

I have been fairly lazy when it has come to posting my blog entries. While in London, I would periodically write entries ahead of time (I really had nothing to do!) which is why there are several posted today (prewritten and unposted stuff). Today’s entry is really a today entry though! I am back at Starbucks, buzzing on an assortment of caffeinated beverages, and thankful that my spell check can spell caffeinated because I can’t. To drown out the surrounding conversations, I have Duffy blaring out of my headset. No. You don’t really blare Duffy; call Duffy my newly formed English addiction. Playing Warwick Avenue, I can close my eyes, and be transported back to London; running through Victoria Station (that song was ALWAYS playing in Victoria Station). Wait. Sitting alone at Starbucks, on a Saturday night, writing blog entries and listening to Duffy? Am I still in London?!?!?!? No.

What should I be doing? Reading my thesis. Yes, I had completed part of it – 30 pages on the history of mass bison kills on the Great Plains. It is boring as h*ll. As you will read to the left - university stifles creativity, and kills the writing abilities of the average individual. My thesis is a testament to that very point. You can ignore these statements if you are one of the people who I will be *politely* asking to proofread my thesis. If in the coming months you are faced with an in-person or email request from me, asking if you would like to read what I have written, then my thesis is highly intriguing and will seek to answer those longstanding, life altering questions. You will be gripped. I will also be providing caffeinated beverages and sugary snacks to make the task seem less arduous. Promise. If you are already bored by my blog entries, I promise that my thesis will make up for it.

Oh wait…hang on…need to check the ITV website in England to see who has been voted out of X Factor…..Rachel…hmmm…

OK so I am digressing. Where I have I been this past week? In short- sleeping, moping, thinking, etc. I made the mistake of ignoring my email. Sorry – but Leanne needed to descend into her misery; sometimes it’s a trip best taken alone. This past week has been emotional – I thought that I was inconvenienced in London; I was mistaken. The temptation to return is overwhelming, and I will. Unfortunately I can’t do it tomorrow, as I would like. There is no point in going back already – I doubt there will be steady work heading into Christmas. I need to finish my thesis, and say that I at least accomplished something in this return. No – that’s not the only thing that I need to accomplish; I need to learn to let go of this place. It’s a hard reality to sit in a place that you chose to return to, and realize that you don’t belong there. And I don’t anymore – Thunder Bay has nothing to offer me. I keep arriving at that conclusion, but have difficulty in accepting it. Really my life here is no different than it was in London; it’s just less interesting; I can’t just go down the block to escape. I am still lonely here; I still seek to find ways to entertain myself; I am still contributing to Starbucks to fight my loneliness. The big difference? I have less independence here; I don’t have my anonymity. There comes a point that you realize that you need to live your life. At the expense of my sanity, I will do just that.

I can’t say its all bad being in Thunder Bay though. My familiarity is here; Mom, friends, and dogs. At the end of the day, isn’t that what we all pursue? Familiarity. Unfortunately in my pursuit of familiarity I am screwing myself. Ya, I said it. I am screwing myself. I would love to live in a place with fresh air for the rest of my life. Stay in a city of 100,000 people, that poses no challenges to get around. I know where everything is. I know how things work here. And it is at the point that you realize you are stagnating and becoming highly anal. Short of becoming a professional writer (and after my thesis is completed, that will be a seriously doubtful career choice) there isn’t one career aspiration that I have that would allow me to remain here.

And what exactly are my proposed career aspirations? Ultimately – to find a job that I love. This is a difficult time to be finding a career though. You know that Credit Crunch/Crisis thingy that the media is so eager to discuss? Well it has ramifications on jobs. Unfortunately the world is sinking into unemployment. The necessary job skills and qualifications are changing – it is a cr*ppy time to be in your twenties or thirties and just starting out in life. Ten years ago, when I started university, I think there was a greater hope. Unfortunately things change over the course of a decade.

In Thunder Bay I am qualified to work in places like Old Navy, Walmart, etc. Reality has it, that I actually can’t afford to work in those places – seriously – I would have to declare bankruptcy, and I am trying my damnedest not to. I have contemplated the one-year Masters of Journalism at Western. I would love to write professionally, and pursue hard hitting stories in the Middle East. Exactly. I can’t stay in Thunder Bay to work for the Associated Press. I am presently applying to Liverpool’s Masters of Science in International Human Resource Management. Ya. INTERNATIONAL Human Resources – can’t stay here for that either. I have pondered International Aid and Development in Africa – nope…Thunder Bay isn’t an option. How about teaching? Nope, not even with teaching can I stay in Thunder Bay. What does it all mean? I am going to have to accept that I am going to be inconvenienced and that I need to let go.

Two days ago I filled out a job application for a clothing company. One of the questions in the application asked “Why do you a desire a position with *COMPANY* and what are your career aspirations?”. I know what this question means – it is the moment at which the applicant gets to kiss some *ss. The question should be answered: “I want a job with your company because I absolutely adore your clothing, and feel that I could provide a positive contribution to your team. It is my goal to stay with the company in the hopes that I excel, and continue to grow.” Leanne is past the point in her life where she wants to bullsh*t her way to a job. Here is my ego – but I just can’t make myself drip for minimum wage employment anymore. Do you really think that I am aspiring to work for minimum wage? Is that why I went to university for ten years? I will gladly take a job for minimum wage, and generally I have always worked in customer service; I’m just saying, be realistic. Needless to say I didn’t kiss *ss on that application, and I won’t get a phone call. Next week, when I’m over my ego and reacquaint myself with reality, I will scrap the degrees from my resume and brown nose my way to a job. Fall from grace. And you know what? Realization is far easier that implementation.

Facing the Reality

Where to start, where to start. Firstly, it is incedibily easy to move to the UK. It is a bit more difficult to leave the UK. In the past 36 hours I have ridden the emotional rollercoster of reality. All of those things that I had been so good about ignoring and remaining emotionally detached from in Canada, have come to a head here. Already I am trying to figure out where I went wrong. Was it in signing a contract? Coming to Banbury (of all places)? Going in to teaching? Deciding to worry about my health in the months leading up to England? Being excessively paranoid about costs? Never having lived alone? Yes. No. Some of it. All of it.
I guess the first challenge was in living here alone - severly alone. Granted I did live in New Orleans, but even when I lived "alone" my then-current love (I use that term loosely) interest spent most of his time in my dorm room. Should I have made the effort to live "alone" in Thunder Bay, before moving here? Probably. Would it have mattered? Not likely.
I have already made a point of discussing my inability to commit to anything (jobs, contracts, partners, etc). So maybe signing a contract led to my derailment. No. Not likely. That nagging thought that kept reaffirming itself in my mind was the clincher - I am in the wrong profession. Did I have to do this to remember that? Yes. I am not necessarily in the wrong profession. I enjoy working with individual students who are struggling to achieve results. I like the challenge of working with the student who just doesn't give a damn. Maybe it's because I see myself in that. I wasn't a natural in school - I had good marks (most of the time), but I worked my butt off to achieve those marks. I worked incredibly hard my first year at university to fail my classes. Which I did, until half term when I realized that I was being daft - and then had to boost failing marks to passing grades.
So then what? The health aspect. Months ago I decided that the "padding" (yes, that's the politically correct term) that I attained on my figure during university had to come off. It has been one of the most unenjoyable experiences of my life. Not secure in my results yet, I have spent so much time worrying about regaining the "padding" that I worked so hard to loose, that I have hardly been enjoying myself. Ultimately I wasn't secure enough in weight to be here. I think there is irony in coming to a country that works on the pound :-p.
Now the costs. I can admit the cost of coming here was a small fortune. The cost of living here is a full fortune. The idea of spending anymore time here, watching the bills ring up - I can't even fathom it. When I look at the big picture, it is truly cheaper to run home now, than to continue on.
I'm sure in the coming weeks I will have a sundry of observations regarding my decisions. There will be regret - both for having gone and having left. I know that. But...at the end of the day...I still have a visa that is good until 2010. I still have credentials (of some sort). I am still Leanne and might find my silver lining - or at least I will be able laugh about it sometime in the future. For instance...the woman who is sitting next to me in the coffee shop is talking about her ovaries. My concentration is being derailed because I keep catching "key words". I can laugh about this. Oh..and I can laugh at the irony - it has been miserable in Banbury since I arrived - today is hot and sunny :) Wonderful.
So here I am, more directionless than when I arrived. Having just agreed to a job meeting on Friday in London.....waiiiiiiiittttttttt....what was that? Did I just say that??!?! Meet Leanne...indecisive and clinging to her last hope... Yes. I have agreed to a job meeting in London on Friday afternoon. Ok Ok..I'm not saying I will let anything happen......yet.....

Reality out of Emotional Detachment

Where do I start with this post? I guess I start with the fact that I travel. I have had the fortune of being able to travel a fair bit for my age - and I love it. I'm one of those economy travellers - backpacking, hostels, etc. I have had the luck of seeing first-hand some of the most amazing sights this world has to offer - and I'm not finished by any means. I am a firm believer that travel is a necessity for education, but I also realize that not everybody has the ability to experience it. I wouldn't really say that I have the ability to experience it - I'm a financial mess, but my priorities are where they are. I can't change that, and I don't want to. Travel will forever remain my priority. Yet, no matter how far I travel, and how often I go, I always know that at the end of the journey, I am returning home. There is safety in that knowledge - and I like safety.

When I decided to come to Banbury - no...let me rephrase...when I jumped on a plane and ended up in Banbury, I knew that there would be potential issues. Previous experience living in New Orleans had taught me that no matter how independant you want to be, adjustment can be hard. Two weeks into my New Orleans experience I hit a period of homesickness hell - I had been lucky enough to not experience homesickness previously. But I descended into that hell, and contemplated a fast return to Canada. Fortunately, New Orleans is just down the road (ok, interstate) from home....and I knew people...lots of people. I was able to weather that storm and carry on with living.

Part of the problem with making an emotionally detached decision, with a personal motto of "I don't know", is that you tend to block out those questions and realities that might make you reconsider your decision. Do I regret that? No. Leanne knows Leanne moderately well. Leanne knows that if Leanne had been emotionally attached to the decision, she would not be sitting in Banbury right now - she would have over-thought the process and ultimately stayed in Thunder Bay. I will admit that on occasion I did consider the reality - but then I always ended up at the same place: Why stay in Thunder Bay? What's here? What do I do here? and so on...so I blocked those (exceedingly) brief interludes of reality and carried on with my emotional detachment.

Now back to my original train of thought. I knew that when I moved to Banbury that I would hit this period of darkness....you know what I talking about....that period when the world is crashing down around you, and you can't breathe, and the walls are closing in. I knew it would happen. Unfortunately I severly underestimated when it would happen. Based on my calculations, the world was doomed to end about two weeks after I arrived in Banbury.
Ok so I am horrible at math, I have no trouble confessing that. You would think that this would hinder me as a Science teacher. It does. So you can guess that when Leanne calculates something, you should throw out the calculation, and get someone else to figure it out. And you're right. My calculation for world destruction was very wrong - I miscalculated by several days.

The reality started to set in the day I rented my flat. Granted I came to Banbury on a contract - as someone who does not like commitment of any sort, a contract is one of those things that gives me heart palpitations. I can't even handle the idea of a cell phone contract - I scoff at being locked in to something for more than a day. I don't make appointments, because I hate having time commitments. Even so, I could handle having an employment contract - it guaranteed money. Signing the contract on my flat was another story - it meant expenditure. I didn't know what an anxiety attack and heart flutter were until last week. But I developed both, and have had them in exceedingly frequant bursts ever since. Walking down the street I will feel my heart start skipping beats as I redose myself reality. I need to stop and take several deep breaths before I continue. And thus starts the darkness...I am learning what Doris Lessing meant about "Briefing for a Descent into Hell".

Then there is the job. Now I can't go into extreme details on my job, for fairly obvious reasons. Firstly, I am in education - people in education keep more secrets than CIA operatives (and generally with better success). Secondly, this blog is available on the internet - I can't risk sounding off on a public form. Let me start by saying that I am not particularly worried about teaching per se...but Leanne had forgotten she despises planning. If I could walk into a classroom filled with 200 roudy students, and be given a lesson plan for the History of the English Language - I would teach it, and be enthusiastic. Tell me I have to plan a lesson for 22 well behaved students on an interesting topic, I will be tempted to head to the first pub I find and drink away my sorrows. How I ended up in teaching is beyond me. No..that's not true. I have worked in a school for eight years. I like teaching. I hate planning. This reality has just added to the darkness.

So where am I going right now? Put simply, I don't know. I am in that period of resentment, and as an Anthropologist I know the stages that I have to go through. I resent that my computer is being overtaken my UK advertisements...that yahoo and google are offering to readjust themselves to UK servers, etc. Emotional detachment has led to emotional crisis. Between the constant financial panics, overwhelming job issues and displacement, I worry that I have numbered my days here. Daily I find shock in the extreme costs of living - I ask again: when will they tax the air here? There has to be a way to do it...I could probably work out a calculation for it - it will be a bad calculation, that will likely result in tax payers paying 20% more than they have to, but the UK goverment will appreciate my ineptness. Maybe next Sunday I should go to Speakers Corner in London, stand on my soapbox, and pose this idea to the masses. And on Monday when I wake up in a hospital, recovering from having been stoned, I can be secure with the reality that I have somehow positively influenced England. Or maybe I should just go to the pub now and watch a game of football...soccer...before I develop this idea any further.

Anyway I guess what this long sojourn into hell has been leading to - this is the reality of displacement and adjustment. While I knew it would happen, I severly underestimated the date on which it would occur. And that's the funny thing about life - it can't be predicted. I didn't factor in all of the obvious forces that would contribute to my calculation - for instance, putting an ocean between myself and home - I should have made an adjustment of at least a day to the calculation. And the cost of living - that should have added another day. And the anxiety of lesson planning...another day. So yes, when I add the variables that affect the constant, I am right on target for a collision with reality.

Now the questions...what calculation do I use to get over the reality? When does that happen? What are constants and variables? And can I find my contentment?