People dressed as reindeer peeing on people? Eight-foot Santa causing small babies to cry? Bagpiping bands introducing the smallest and most pathetic parade in history??? Yep, it's Christmas in Scotland baby, and it's never been so beautiful.
Christmas is huge here. And I guess it is everywhere else too--but here I have noticed it particularly. People go all out, pubs go all out and the bloody street vendors go all out--and it is only the middle of November. Oh dear.
Besides this being only my second week in Aberdeen (and the start of my third) what is adding to the homesickness feeling has been the incredible amount of Christmas nonesense that has gone on. Don't get me wrong. I adore Christmas. The fanfare, the lights, the tacky decorations, the mockery of religious intent--it's all good to me.
But it really does, in all it's disgusting good-hearted-consumerist glory, make you think of family and your loved ones. And let's face it--most of my loved ones are miles away. Across an ocean really. So while I am thinking of loved ones, walking down the Christmas gagged Union street, I had a bit of a break down. Actually I had to go into a bookstore (Waterstones) to calm down. After stroking a few uncracked spines and lovingly nuzzling some untreated 100lb high bulk paper of a Marian Keyes novel, I got a better grip on reality. My last Christmas I stayed in Toronto (and didn't go back to the fam in Calgary) and I worked at a bookstore over the holidays. This probably saved my life. That, and my friend Diane coming to stay for the holidays. So I figured, as long as I have books and a good friend (in this case Joanna) I can remain sane.
Anyway, after averting the crisis of bawling on a public street and narrowly avoiding curling up into the fetal position in the middle of the road, I began to relax and enjoy the Christmas fanfare.
That day, Joanna and I had managed to get up early (11am) and run just in time to make it to the 5 minute children's parade that was happening down Union. I wasn't too disapointed because I did get to see Santa and a reindeer (Just one, but it was real!) I then had a sausage (Bratwurst. Amazing) and Jo had a delicious looking crepe and we walked down to the sea to meet up with friends Cat and Amy. I know, I actually live in a place where I can say 'we walked down to the sea'. Definitely not in land-locked Alberta anymore!
Anyway, we had a fabulous American style lunch at TGI Fridays (the last time I ate here was with the Prince of Swaziland in Niagra falls, so it brought back fond memories. This is a long story, which you will probably never hear....or you just might because I have very few stories which just circulate over and over....), our waiter even channeled America through his very demeanour. Katie Blue, you wouldda been proud. Anyway, I ended up walking back from the beach by myself, wandering through town and inevitable break down ensued. I guess it was because my mind finally figured out that this was not a vacation after all. I couldn't just call up my usual peeps and discuss the day/latest boy drama/listen to their highly entertaining woes. I couldn't just meet up with someone and complain about publishing. That was it folks, it was just me. So I went into these cemetary grounds (St. Nicholas's Kirk) and wandered around the eerie gravestones thinking that I may one day be one of them. To test my luck I sat down on one of the gravestones and whipped out my mini-digital photo album given to me by Kelly, my good friend and work colleague. I figured if I was going to die here, I was going to die looking at pictures of my friends. I have no idea why I am being so drastically melodramatic. Anyway, when it got kind of dark (aka it was about 4pm in the afternoon and it was pitch black) and they locked me inside the cemetary (I actually had to chase down the city council man and get him to unlock the gate and let me out. So I suppose I might have actually died. Or in any case had a very cold night in a graveyard). Anyway, I did get out. And made it to the christmas light turning on ceremony which was kind of amazing (where Joanna got peed on by a person dressed as a reindeer--and by pee I mean water squirting out of the reindeer penis. Classy). And then we all went to Ma Cameron's where I proceeded to be incredibly uncool and get a nice cup of raspberry tea at the pub. All in all, I felt decidedly better with the addition of the tea, santa claus and a peeing reindeer.
I guess recounting my day-to-day progress is kind of cathartic when it comes to homesickness. It is the equivalent of calling up a friend and bitching about my day. I just hope my friends are actually reading this.
That was a hint guys.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
A Shot in the Dark
BTW - for all ya'll who still inhabit Toronto (and even those that don't), check out my friend's blog called 'A Shot in the Dark' which is on my blog link list (and that was a link to it, in case you missed it). It is awesome and filled with music/book reviews and just about anything you can imagine. Why is blogging so addicting??
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
The Week in Review
It does not feel like I have been here for a week already.
So far, I have had terrible jetlag for about 4 days, got amazingly drunk on 75p vodka mixers which in my mind definitely helped me get over my horrible jetlag, revamped my resume to make it more British and less Canadian (it broke my heart), attended a Guy Fawkes fireworks display on the beach, and stayed 3 fabulous days in Findochtry (pronounced Fin-echty) a small fishing village north of Aberdeen with only one pub. All in all, time well spent.
On Thursday we went to the Guy Fawkes firworks display on the beach in Aberdeen. It was fantastic--thousands of people watching this amazing fireworks display, eating chips and running around with sparklers. We bought sparklers too, and after having incredible difficulties lighting them we did so and stood there happily waving them around. Then we walked back to Jo's friend Mark's place and he made us fabulous hot chocolate. All in all, a good night. Then, on Friday we headed down to Cat's mum's house in Findochtry which is right on the North Sea. Actually. Right on it. You wake up, look out the window and the sea is about ten feet away from you. Anyway, so it was a fabulous girls weekend, just the four of us playing with my deck of 'Man' cards (half naked 80's men on playing cards--never was money so well spent) with 8 bottles of wine at 2pm in the afternoon. We went to the one and only pub in Findochtry, got drunk, played many a song on their jukebox (amazing) and Joanna drunkenly challenged an old man local to a game of pool (which she won). Then we ended up going back, drinking more wine, eating chocolate and watching The Boat that Rocked (for you Nikita!) which was actually so amazing and my love for Richard Curtis has increased. The next day included a hiking trip up to see the old war memorial and when we got to the top of the cliff the view was so fantastic that I had this overwhelming urge to start doing yoga. So I did and only had trouble maintaining my balance when Joanna called me a loser and I was attempting to giver her the middle finger while remaining in Dancer's pose. Very zen. Then we watched Love Actually, had a fantastic dinner with Cat's mum, and played some more intense card games. Sunday was very chill and involved a giant Scots brunch, then Andrea and I went for a hike along the coast which was actually life changing. I guess this weekend for me was an affirmation that I made the right decision. I had never felt so lucky in all my life to be experiencing what I am experiencing.
Now, onto the hard stuff. It has come to my attention that a lot of things here are really not that different from Canada. Mind you, what is different is very different, but I haven't noticed anything that has put me out too much. When I was jetlagged and sick and feeling altogether miserable I did stroll through the grocery store proclaiming 'What is wrong with these people?? Why can't they have normal bacon?' And shuddering whenever I saw some creepy and Scottish food that I didn't know what to make of. But mostly, people are people, drinks are drinks, and job searching is job searching. What is different, and what has changed are my day to day conversations and interactions. Obviously, I don't see and hang out with my friends in Canada, nor call them up or go out for coffee whenever I need to tell them something. However, Joanna and her friends have been fantastic, so that's been good so far. What I have begun to miss, but most likely because of the habit I had formed, is talking about publishing to people who work in and understand books. The people I hang out with here are fantastic, but they are also mostly all in med school. There is nothing wrong with that, nor with the fact that they talk about medicine so much, but it makes me long for the days where I sat in a group mostly populated by people who worked in my industry discussing things that I felt I had an authority to speak on. It really makes you realize what kind of bubble you lived in, what kind of limitations you set on yourself--but it also makes you crave being in the bubble again.
I also miss having an established routine. Walking to work, going for lunch, chatting with my awesome work colleagues, then walking home, going to the gym and watching some trashy but fantastically entertaining television with my roomie. There you go, that's my Toronto life in a nutshell. Fabulous. Fabulous? Well, it may have started to get a little bit static, and had the beginnings of feeling too comfortable. I could happily go about that existence for awhile, then wake up at 35 and wonder what the fuck went wrong. Hopefully that wont happen here.
And anyway, it has only been a week.
So far, I have had terrible jetlag for about 4 days, got amazingly drunk on 75p vodka mixers which in my mind definitely helped me get over my horrible jetlag, revamped my resume to make it more British and less Canadian (it broke my heart), attended a Guy Fawkes fireworks display on the beach, and stayed 3 fabulous days in Findochtry (pronounced Fin-echty) a small fishing village north of Aberdeen with only one pub. All in all, time well spent.
On Thursday we went to the Guy Fawkes firworks display on the beach in Aberdeen. It was fantastic--thousands of people watching this amazing fireworks display, eating chips and running around with sparklers. We bought sparklers too, and after having incredible difficulties lighting them we did so and stood there happily waving them around. Then we walked back to Jo's friend Mark's place and he made us fabulous hot chocolate. All in all, a good night. Then, on Friday we headed down to Cat's mum's house in Findochtry which is right on the North Sea. Actually. Right on it. You wake up, look out the window and the sea is about ten feet away from you. Anyway, so it was a fabulous girls weekend, just the four of us playing with my deck of 'Man' cards (half naked 80's men on playing cards--never was money so well spent) with 8 bottles of wine at 2pm in the afternoon. We went to the one and only pub in Findochtry, got drunk, played many a song on their jukebox (amazing) and Joanna drunkenly challenged an old man local to a game of pool (which she won). Then we ended up going back, drinking more wine, eating chocolate and watching The Boat that Rocked (for you Nikita!) which was actually so amazing and my love for Richard Curtis has increased. The next day included a hiking trip up to see the old war memorial and when we got to the top of the cliff the view was so fantastic that I had this overwhelming urge to start doing yoga. So I did and only had trouble maintaining my balance when Joanna called me a loser and I was attempting to giver her the middle finger while remaining in Dancer's pose. Very zen. Then we watched Love Actually, had a fantastic dinner with Cat's mum, and played some more intense card games. Sunday was very chill and involved a giant Scots brunch, then Andrea and I went for a hike along the coast which was actually life changing. I guess this weekend for me was an affirmation that I made the right decision. I had never felt so lucky in all my life to be experiencing what I am experiencing.
Now, onto the hard stuff. It has come to my attention that a lot of things here are really not that different from Canada. Mind you, what is different is very different, but I haven't noticed anything that has put me out too much. When I was jetlagged and sick and feeling altogether miserable I did stroll through the grocery store proclaiming 'What is wrong with these people?? Why can't they have normal bacon?' And shuddering whenever I saw some creepy and Scottish food that I didn't know what to make of. But mostly, people are people, drinks are drinks, and job searching is job searching. What is different, and what has changed are my day to day conversations and interactions. Obviously, I don't see and hang out with my friends in Canada, nor call them up or go out for coffee whenever I need to tell them something. However, Joanna and her friends have been fantastic, so that's been good so far. What I have begun to miss, but most likely because of the habit I had formed, is talking about publishing to people who work in and understand books. The people I hang out with here are fantastic, but they are also mostly all in med school. There is nothing wrong with that, nor with the fact that they talk about medicine so much, but it makes me long for the days where I sat in a group mostly populated by people who worked in my industry discussing things that I felt I had an authority to speak on. It really makes you realize what kind of bubble you lived in, what kind of limitations you set on yourself--but it also makes you crave being in the bubble again.
I also miss having an established routine. Walking to work, going for lunch, chatting with my awesome work colleagues, then walking home, going to the gym and watching some trashy but fantastically entertaining television with my roomie. There you go, that's my Toronto life in a nutshell. Fabulous. Fabulous? Well, it may have started to get a little bit static, and had the beginnings of feeling too comfortable. I could happily go about that existence for awhile, then wake up at 35 and wonder what the fuck went wrong. Hopefully that wont happen here.
And anyway, it has only been a week.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Arrived!
Okay, so sorry this is a few days late, but definitely had to get my bearings and get over (almost!) my jetlag before I felt like I could possibly write a post about all this. But, now that I do feel a bit more like a human being again...I am here!! Seriously, I ACTUALLY LIVE IN SCOTLAND!
I guess the main thing that I can say about this whole moving experience so far is that it doesn't seem weird. Like, at all. Flying into Aberdeen, chilling at the airport in Heathrow (and by chilling I mean desperately trying to stay awake and not miss my flight to Aberdeen), just the whole journey in general wasn't sad, or life changing or really emotional. It just felt normal. And I don't mean like I felt like I was 'coming home' or some bullshit like that because obviously my home still feels very much like Toronto and Calgary, but it just felt like I was expecting this. I think I had got all of my emotions out of my system and dealt with them mostly when I made the decision to move. After that, I became practical, decision-making Emily, and was pretty much chill with the whole thing. It was all extremely relieving.
I wont bore you with describing the long and tedious plane ride (although I DID have A Clamato Juice with Ice and a Wedge of Lemon (but they only had extra spicy :( even so I had to do it...) the man beside me did NOT know the meaning of personal space and for some reason I decided to watch the film 'Food Inc' while eating my beef plane dinner and that was really not a good decision. Great film, but don't eat anything while watching it...), so I will skip ahead. The best part ever was arriving in the little Aberdeen airport (think of the Hamilton airport but just a bit bigger) and Jo screamed and I screamed and we ran at each other hugging and screaming and shouting 'Oh my God! Oh my GOD!! IM SO GLAD TO BE HERE/I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE HERE!' and it was brilliant. People were definitely looking at us and laughing at how outrageous we were--amazing.
Anyway, so it just felt so normal right away, being in the cab with Joanna, getting to her flat, talking about things, walking down to the pub and trying haggis (which was sooooo amazingly good! I actually can't believe why people don't like it! It tastes like Shepherd's pie but 1000 times better!!) and then passing out. We both seemed to wake up at like 4 am and talked some more and it was just wonderfully easy. I have never felt so at home! Of course at one point we went and had tea in her living room and ended up having a semi-racist conversation with her flatmate and flatmate's friend (though I feel like a lot of conversations that take place in the UK are all a little bit racist...). Also, people seem to be obsessed with the singer Cheryl Cole and if you don't know who she is I have linked it to the wiki site of her. She is famous from Girls Aloud (another brilliant rendition of the all girls brit band), though I knew her then as Cheryl Tweedy. Basically you just need to know that she is freakishly thin, can't really sing, but does have good hair. Yep, that pretty much sums up brit pop culture....
Anyway, much more to tell, but I think I am going to do this in stages.
I will leave you now with a portion of an email from my mother (she sent me some really frantic ones for the first two days when I was too out of it/had no internet access to contact her when I arrived...). Just read it while imagining a terrible, thick Yorkshire accent:
"I keep checking on skype and e-mail from you. where are you . i keep eating halloween candy left over from saturday. Im so happy that you are trying to do something with your life. We are very proud of you. Never forget that."
Love you Mum!
I guess the main thing that I can say about this whole moving experience so far is that it doesn't seem weird. Like, at all. Flying into Aberdeen, chilling at the airport in Heathrow (and by chilling I mean desperately trying to stay awake and not miss my flight to Aberdeen), just the whole journey in general wasn't sad, or life changing or really emotional. It just felt normal. And I don't mean like I felt like I was 'coming home' or some bullshit like that because obviously my home still feels very much like Toronto and Calgary, but it just felt like I was expecting this. I think I had got all of my emotions out of my system and dealt with them mostly when I made the decision to move. After that, I became practical, decision-making Emily, and was pretty much chill with the whole thing. It was all extremely relieving.
I wont bore you with describing the long and tedious plane ride (although I DID have A Clamato Juice with Ice and a Wedge of Lemon (but they only had extra spicy :( even so I had to do it...) the man beside me did NOT know the meaning of personal space and for some reason I decided to watch the film 'Food Inc' while eating my beef plane dinner and that was really not a good decision. Great film, but don't eat anything while watching it...), so I will skip ahead. The best part ever was arriving in the little Aberdeen airport (think of the Hamilton airport but just a bit bigger) and Jo screamed and I screamed and we ran at each other hugging and screaming and shouting 'Oh my God! Oh my GOD!! IM SO GLAD TO BE HERE/I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE HERE!' and it was brilliant. People were definitely looking at us and laughing at how outrageous we were--amazing.
Anyway, so it just felt so normal right away, being in the cab with Joanna, getting to her flat, talking about things, walking down to the pub and trying haggis (which was sooooo amazingly good! I actually can't believe why people don't like it! It tastes like Shepherd's pie but 1000 times better!!) and then passing out. We both seemed to wake up at like 4 am and talked some more and it was just wonderfully easy. I have never felt so at home! Of course at one point we went and had tea in her living room and ended up having a semi-racist conversation with her flatmate and flatmate's friend (though I feel like a lot of conversations that take place in the UK are all a little bit racist...). Also, people seem to be obsessed with the singer Cheryl Cole and if you don't know who she is I have linked it to the wiki site of her. She is famous from Girls Aloud (another brilliant rendition of the all girls brit band), though I knew her then as Cheryl Tweedy. Basically you just need to know that she is freakishly thin, can't really sing, but does have good hair. Yep, that pretty much sums up brit pop culture....
Anyway, much more to tell, but I think I am going to do this in stages.
I will leave you now with a portion of an email from my mother (she sent me some really frantic ones for the first two days when I was too out of it/had no internet access to contact her when I arrived...). Just read it while imagining a terrible, thick Yorkshire accent:
"I keep checking on skype and e-mail from you. where are you . i keep eating halloween candy left over from saturday. Im so happy that you are trying to do something with your life. We are very proud of you. Never forget that."
Love you Mum!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Moving Today!
So today is the day! I am in sort of a daze. From moving out of my apartment, to packing up alll my shit to repacking and repacking and saying goodbye to my friends (tear!) it doesn't feel like it's real. I am doing laundry at the moment at Ilana's house (my home away from home in Toronto--basically my adopted Jewish Toronto family) and watching the movie Jumanji amidst more packing. Oh dear. I have always wanted to become one of those people who packs everything at least a month in advance and arrives with everything neatly pressed and colour coded, with no extra luggage fees (I should think not!) and looking glossy and impossibly fresh looking even after a 36 hour journey of hell. Who are those people? Because they definitely exist.
So what am I doing on my last day in this lovely, beautiful, wonderful country? Eating bagels. And gettin' Timmies. And chocolate babka. And packing packing packing. I am glad I have had these two months to do everything I have wanted to do in Toronto--I probably wouldn't have done nearly as much if I didn't know I had a deadline. Which is kind of sad. Why is it that a deadline puts things into perspective so much? I normally would never want this to happen--but if we all knew exactly when we were going to die, I think we would live our lives very differently. That deadline works like no other. In the past two months I have seen all the people that I haven't really seen at all in the past year and a half I have been living here. Why as soon as you are leaving with the possibility of never seeing that person again is it all of a sudden imperative that you see that person? In theory you could just never get together your whole lives, you would just have the comfort of knowing that you could.
Anyway, back to the packing I suppose. And the bagels. There is definitely a deadline on good bagels. Therefore I plan to eat them in abundance--even though I have had about two in the past year....
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