BORED.

I am bored out of my mind. Bored, bored, boredyboredboredbored. There is only so much work I can do in a day, especially when there wasn't much to do to begin with. So I've taken to looking up random things on the internet. You know. As you do.

Usually there are people for me to discuss various non-work related things with online, but as everybody but me gets this week off, alas I am alone. So I've been writing emails. And all of you should write me back.

::sigh:: Christmas and New Year always get me down. I never feel like I've done enough in a year to really look back and think 'Wow. This year was great.' So far, everything has been along the lines of 'Yeah. This year was, you know, not bad.' It just seems like such a waste of time. I've been listening to 'Long December' by Counting Crows and 'The New Year' by Death Cab incessently (as those of you who know the music I listen to probably remember that I tend to at this time of year), and they're not really the most uplifting end-of-year songs. So yeah. Hmmm. Maybe I'll go play Yahoo games for the next hour and twenty minutes. Oops, hour and nineteen minutes.

The Fountain and Christmas Tree in Russell Square

Merry Christmas everyone! Wishing you all a lovely one.

When the extraordinary becomes ordinary

I was reading someone else's blog today, and read a sentance from one of his previous entries that sums up how I feel about living in England. He wrote "This isn't just some big adventure anymore, this is where I live."

And that pretty much sums it up. I don't notice certain things over here that other people marvel at, because it's not some big adventure any more. The architecture is still amazing, but there are days when I walk to work, my head down, shouldering my way across intersections and take no notice of it. I go to Oxford Street regularly to work (although thank something that tomorrow is my second-to-last shift, because working 6 days a week is killing me), I shop for groceries at the Asian supermarket one street off Leicester Square, and know short cuts through Soho.

It's just...life. I worry about paying my bills. I have to buy groceries, and each time we move find stores that sell the kinds of things I want to use. I go to work every day, go home, eat dinner, and mess around on the computer. My 'local' pub is opposite the British Museum, but that's just where it is. It's not special.

After a point, you just stop seeing things around you as new, exciting and different, because you can't constantly go around being amazed with everything. Which is kinda sad, really.

Bingle Jells

Today we had our Office Christmas Do. This kind of thing is, I think, unique to Britain (although since I have never lived anywhere else but the two countries, it may be more widespread), and usually involves getting as pissed as possible and photocopying body parts.

However, due to the rather wide spread of ages in quite a small office, one of the lovely ladies took the time and effort to organise lunch at a pub on Fleet Street (Ye Olde Cock Tavern). We all trooped down there in a rather stragly order, sat down at the table and got our drinks. The pub had recently both a) been taken over my new management, and b) lost its manager, so lunch didn't go as planned. The starters were different than the menu said they should be, things were late, forgotten, or missing something. But all in all, it was a lovely time with people from work. We laughed, we pulled Christmas Crackers (also unique to Britain), wore silly hats, and most of us had a good time.

However, two people complained. For the 3 hours that we were there. Their food wasn't what it should be, it didn't taste right, it was an awful meal, they couldn't believe that things had been forgotten. By the time we went back to the office, the woman who'd organised the Do was almost in tears. I made a point of going into her office and telling her what a nice time I'd had, and I told some of the other people in the office who have now done the same thing.

It just really irritates me when people are so oblivious to someone else's feelings. It might not have been the best food in the world, but it was cooked properly and wasn't burnt. It might not have been the best pub in the world, but for the price (starter, main, pudding, coffee and mince pie) I certainly wasn't expecting anything better.

And even though she won't read this, I'm saying thank you. I know how much effort you put into organising everything, and I think it was lovely of you.

Britain occasionally sucks ass

So at the beginning of the month, I lost my passport. I wasn't really concerned, as I wasn't going anywhere soon. I toodled along to the American Embassy, paid a stupid price for specific pictures that are only taken at certain places in Britain and cost double what passport photos should, paid my fairly reasonable admin replacement charge, and received my passport today, 10 days after I applied.

Another thing that I have to do because I lost my passport is to get my residency visa replaced. I can't really come back into the country without it now, because I need to prove that I'm allowed to live here. I somehow forgot the 3 month nightmare that was applying for the visa, and called to see what I needed to do. Apparently, I can only get a "new" visa (an extention of the old one) by paying the same fee as I did when I applied, providing a police statement saying that my passport was stolen (well, it wasn't. I lost it. So...what now?), and it will take 4 weeks maximum (yeah, right. Guess what they said the first time?). So, I am not happy. Sometimes this country really, really, REALLY, sucks.

Wildflower

I've really, really, really been digging Sheryl Crow's cd Wildflower since I 'stole' it from a friend while I was in the States.

I've always been a big fan of Sheryl Crow even before I knew I was a big fan of Sheryl Crow. I distinctly remember shuffling through my cds at some point and realizing that I had all of her albums to date then concluding that, regardless of who I said my favorite bands were, actually she should be on the list.

I think I probably heard the songs "My Man" and "If it Makes You Happy" first, and since I was a fairly angsty teenager (who wasn't?) I desperately needed to listen to them over and over again until they were permanently ingrained in my memory. So I got 'Sheryl Crow', a boyfriend gave me 'Tuesday Night Blues Club', and 'The Globe Sessions' (with 'Anything But Down') was purchased because of a certain ex-boyfriend.

But she's one of those artists that I can pick a song for any mood, no matter how I'm feeling. She's also one of the few artists that, if they come on when I'm in the wrong mood, it just makes it worse. There's a song on there for almost every single event in my life thus far. Her music makes me happy, it makes me sad, it makes me angry about the right things, it helps me remember and it helps me move on. So in case she ever asks my opinion? I think she has more than succeeded as an artist.

Red Dirt Girl

I read a post on Treehugger today about a guy who, after graduating, spent 4 years cycling around the world.

And I looked around my flat, and just wanted to go out, buy a bike, and go. Just leave everything. I wonder, sometimes, how these people do it. They just seem to pick up and go. No money, no job, nothing. How? And why can't I seem to do it? I always end up stuck somewhere with credit card debt and bills to pay. I wish, just for once, I could just. Go.

Moving to Britain wasn't like that. I was leaving for so many reasons, and none of them were anything I really wanted to admit to at the time. I think it would actually have been better for me to buy a campervan and drive around for a few years, just stopping and working where the urge took me.

People are always saying that it's never too late. But sometimes it is. It's too late to go back and change decisions you've made, and you just have to live with them. It's too late to get in that campervan and just....go. But I think that I really, really, want to.