London Daily

I ache. That's really all I have to say. lol...I can barely move my neck or shoulders - soooo...being lazy, instead of going to look for a new hotel in a better location for tomorrow night (and face having to haul my luggage), I am moving two doors down from my existing place. Call it pattern behaviour...I can't face having to be a pack animal again tomorrow. My body is not conditioned for such activity.

On Day 2, I have accomplished little. I did get dressed up and visit my agency (note: the look of relief on the hotel manager's face was fairly evident when I went out this morning - you could literally read his mind: "oh thank goodness! she isn't always a filthy Canadian backpacker! she can clean up!"). As I am running out of time on my internet connection, let me summarize:
I am becoming my own company.
I cannot cross the street without nearly getting hit by vehicles (see a former Banbury post for more info)
I have decided to avoid jay walking until I can properly cross a street
I am looking for a flat in London, but because I am lazy I am considering living in Westminster (again, to avoid moving my luggage!).


Needless to say, on Day 2 I am still surviving- though with moderately more pain than I like :)

London Beaten

Well as my first day in London draws to a close, I'm pleased to say that I am still standing. Barely. I am being overcome by jet lag. No...correction - I am being overcome by the 4 hours of sleep I've had in the past 60-odd hours. I am fighting desperately to make it past 5pm GMT!
So...I am pleased to say that while flying into London on this attempt at UK-living, I did not experience the sheer regret that I did previously. I did not have that "wtf I am doing-moment" - mainly because I was having a get-this-f*cking-plane-on-the-ground-before-we-all-die-moment. I'm not saying that the few bouts of turburlance were terrible...I'm just saying that I'm not usually inspired to throw-up during turbalance (and last night I definitely fought such desire!). Possibly my nauseated stomach could have been related to our preboarding call

"Ladies and gentlemen we are sorry for the delay. The maintenance crew is on the aircraft fixing it. We don't know what is broken, we just know that they are there. So the plane is being fixed and we will be boarding as soon as it is. Again we are sorry for the delay."

Leanne didn't need to know that the plane was broken just prior to her getting on it. I can handle broken toys, broken plates, etc...I even handled a Guatemalan chicken bus ride during which the floor beneath my seat was apparently missing....but the machine that is carrying me 30,000 feet above a black abyss is not supposed to be broken. That's all I'm saying.

So that crisis everted, I then spent the next 8 hours stressing over the possibility of deportation at immigration . Immigration wasn't too bad...except for that little issue that my passport photo-Leanne and real-life Leanne don't really resemble each other anymore. Immigration did catch that. I have two options - either put all the weight back on...or go to the Canadian embassy for some consultation. (eating does sound like fun though!).

Immigration cleared...next crisis...money. If you will remember from Banbury, the UK has been a stronghold of chip & pin technology. Fortunately in April, they still understood my archaic American credit cards. Fast forward 6 months - my credit cards are no longer archaic - they are completely null and void. This has left me scrambling to figure out how I'm going to live until I start getting paid. That crisis has not been averted. Oh ya...and throw in the fact that I have misplaced my debit card password for my UK bank account - I would say that the financial aspects of my day have not gone so well. (that could be the sleep deprived jet lag talking).

My success on the day? I got a mobile phone. I don't know how to use it. I don't know how to call anyone - but I do have a lifeline to the outside (its a small glimmer of hope). Unfortunately my laptop is now rejecting my internet connection....one step forward, 2 steps back...and so it goes :)
Oh ya...and its raining. Welcome to London :)) Luckily the men who run the hotel that I am staying in seem to think I'm an idiot and are more than willing to help me. Not necessarily as a coincidence they have also put me in the room closest to the office...lol...you know what I'm saying (this room is actually bigger than the one I requested - which is somewhat scary cuz I'm staying in a closet.)

Ok so that's my story for today. Oh yes..and in reference to the title - my bags really have battered me - heavy luggage + shoulder straps = terrible bruising and injury across my collar bones, shoulders and arm. its tempting just to move into the hotel to avoid moving again (and keep in mind...I actually have about 60 pounds LESS luggage than I did when I went to Banbury).

Cheers!

London Secrecy

As you may have noticed I have published two blog postings that I have been sitting on for the past couple of weeks. The reason? I decided to quietly return to England - and I was fairly successful in that decision. Right now I am in Toronto Airport waiting for my delayed flight, absolutely DREADING having to claim my luggage in London . Oh it is heavy..
At the moment I am a mix of emotions, and am kind of craving a hamburger. Random thought, I know . Part of me is excited to return...part of me already wonders what the h*ll I am doing. As the plane departed from Thunder Bay I bid farewell to home - though I was a little distraught that cloud cover prevented me from actually seeing my home!
Ok...I know I am going to get cut off very shortly by a boarding call...more will come later.

So I am down to the final three weeks before departure. The anxiety has started…I’m having those “wtf” moments. I have begun second guessing whether or not I am doing the right thing. The anxiety is then greeted by excitement for what lies ahead. Stress. Eagerness. More stress. Relief. It is an emotional rollercoaster – and I am so incredibly happy to be riding it!

If you read my earlier blog posts (and I don’t know why you would have), but if you haven’t, let me summarize. I moved to Banbury with zero emotion. I wasn’t stressed. No excitement. No second guessing. I was detached, aloof, dissassociative. Numerous people asked me “Well you must be excited?” No. “You must be nervous?” Nope. “You must be looking forward to England?” Not really. And so on….I was overwhelmingly detached from the whole process.

This might work for some, but it didn’t work for me one iota. In my emotional detachment, I suddenly found myself very attached to the reality of my decision. Suddenly, while in Banbury, I found myself crashing down, as I came to terms with the longterm ramifications of my decisions. How to cope? Well I didn’t. I moved back to Canada.

So now, attempt number two is well underway. I have the emotions this time, and can look at the reality of this decision. I know it will be no easier than the last time, but I am somehow more prepared. Or else I will have an even more tumultuous breakdown in London. This could go two ways. We shall see, won’t we?

A secret revealed

It’s 1:30 am and I should be in bed, but true to form, I have one more thing I can procrastinate about: sleep! I haven’t blogged during the last two months, and feel that it’s time to catch up as I embark on my newest journey. Alright, maybe that is a little bit melodramatic – it’s not really a new journey – it’s a retracing of a past journey, but with the lessons of the present. So I am reshaping my blog and putting it back on the path that it was initially meant to take – this blog was not about me regretting every decision I’ve ever made…it was about me learning to live, while living in a foreign land. Yet, I did learn something amidst the regret…and noooo, I am not sharing what that lesson has been.
So tonight I start anew, and find out just how many of my friends read my blog J You see, I am not going to openly tell anyone of what is being shared in this blog. At least, not initially – eventually everything will come out, but for the meantime, the future is for me. Luckily I have this blog to write out my grievances – and it can be read by sporadic people who can compare their f*ck ups to mine (and maybe learn something from my frequent blunders).

About a week ago I woke up and realized it was time to either sh*t or get off the pot (and I’m sorry if my colourful language offends you, but I write as I speak!). And so I got off the pot. Since returning in April, I have argued with myself constantly about going back to the UK and trying again. (no…I have argued with myself about EVERYTHING! I am in torment!) For the first 4 months I was adamantly opposed to the idea – I found every reason as to why I should return, but found every counter-reason as to why I should not. My reasons for avoiding it were creative at the very least. But still, I kept coming back to the question: “the Leanne of today doesn’t want to go…but will the Leanne of 40 years from now regret having not taken the opportunity?” Hmmm…I know about regret. I have given up a lot of opportunities – most of which I already regret. I can’t have another regret.

And so it is so. After a weekend of trialing, and being with friends and watching successes and failures (yes, this is all dog show stuff) I realized that I needed to go. Why? How does the dog world fit in? Since returning in April, I have remained fairly aloof from everyone – friends, family, etc. I figured that by rejoining my world, I was making it too easy for me to stay in Thunder Bay, and too difficult to change my life. This past trialing weekend was really my first large scale interaction with my life. But then I realized - its not enough. I will always have a life here, but not enough of a life to warrant staying forever. I cannot stay here anymore. And so…on September 2nd, I woke up – and for the first time since April – I didn’t argue with myself. I didn’t debate my life, or what I was doing. The decision was made, and then there was clarity. The funny thing is – had I “decided” not to go, I would have continued to argue with myself for months, until that option no longer existed.

Like I have already mentioned, I will not be telling anyone of my decision. The reason? This time I am going back for me. I do not want to go with expectations, and feeling the pressure of needing to succeed. I have had five months to ponder my mistakes, I know what went wrong, and I know what I need to make this work for me. Part of what I need is my anonymity until I settle.

In retrospect, it was so incredibly lonely to move 6000 miles away from home. I have been lonely before – but this type of lonely was something else. This time I am going with the understanding that I will have to combat that. Ok, sure, in another week I will be heading towards self doubt, and wondering what the heck I’ve signed myself up for – but right now, I am ok. And so…this blog will be returning to its original format, and hopefully for a longer stint J