About me
Bit tired of writing profiles. Just come along and see for yourself :)
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All fixed
My Mo'time profile is now linked to my Mo'page.
My catch up post is below. It's a bit long, so here is the short version. If you want juicy details you can keep going.
Preview:
- Started temping in finance
- Became a godmother in March 07
- Inklings of moving back to the US
- Dated an American boy from the embassy
- Mother moved back to the UK
- Got utterly fed up of London
- Went to goddaughter's christening in Toronto in September
- Stayed with cousin in NYC in October (scouting mission!)
- Returned to hate London even more
- Decided to leave in September 08
- Sick and depressed from November to March
- Decided to leave in May 08
And here we are...
Another attempt
Since my last (rather long) post got lost somewhere in the mists of Mo'time.
This time I've visited some of you before writing. I really can't say why I drifted away. I guess life, or the lack thereof, happened. I never left good ole Blogger, but I joined the diaspora from 20six to P27 and tried to recreate the same community for a while, but that too went the same way as 20six. A few wandered off to Wordpress. Others stopped altogether. I never ever want to stop blogging, that's certain.
Mo'time is such a small community. It's nice to see many of the old names still here.
So hey, let's do the catch up.
Two years ago I started temping, having given up on ever finding a job in London remotely related to either of my degrees. I hate to say it but I think I wasted a ton of money getting that art history degree at Christies. (There are those who tell me the skillset I acquired is valuable, though.)
The social life was great, what with the private member's club and piano recitals in the drawing room followed by three courses in the dining room. Think foie gras and roast guinea fowl and you've got the idea. Or evening in Chinatown scoffing designer dim sum and tailor made cocktails. Hobnobbing with the nobility.
The temp jobs were mainly in finance so I've got the vocabulary down pat - thankfully I can still remember what a triptych and chiaroscuro are!
However, London has truly been getting me down, wearing me out. It's true what they say. The people are unfriendly, the sky is always grey, it does rain a lot, and it's just so cold. There was no summer last year. It's simply miserable here. Plus I'm completely fed up of the non stop criticism of America and everyone in it, but deep down I think they're just insecure and envious. I am ashamed to be British. And I am proud to be American.
So. Back on topic.
Last year a housemate invited me to a party at the US Embassy. I met a guy from the DoD attache's office there and we dated over the summer, until his reposting to DC. Despite being from Tennessee he reminded me of everything Texan and so many memories came back to me.
We went to loads of fun events, ate great food, saw each other nearly every day, but his time was not his own and what's worse it was during the months surrounding the car bombing in London so he was on call a lot. For once I got to date someone under 6ft, who walks as fast as me. We would cover miles but he never believed I really could walk like that and kept telling me to let him know if I got tired. Heck, I can walk forever, me.
Anwyay, nobody better mess with me now, I know some pretty interesting self defense techniques! Wish I could try them on those kids who mugged me one time.
It was great going out with a southern boy (3 yrs younger than me, hehe). Such good manners, and charmingly old fashioned. Like standing up when a lady leaves the table, or walking on the side of the traffic. Darn, he raised the bar that bit more (and told me never to lower it). These British men seem so boorish now and I haven't looked at one since.
Back on topic again.
A couple of years ago, even before I left my exclusive St John's Wood neighbourhood, I was thinking of leaving London. I knew my time was running out here, but I didn't tell anyone.
At the end of the summer my mother broke her promise to never return to the UK, and joined me here. I wish I had listened that one day when my gut told me to call her and cancel the cargo shipment. At first I thought she would make everything better, and that I could bear to be here more if she were with me, but it actually became worse. I rented and furnished a two bedroom apartment for us with a wraparound balcony and a good view (not that it was ever warm enough to sit out).
We both spiralled into depression. Every day something would go wrong, down to the elevators breaking down, or the new TV not working. I would wake up waiting for the next thing,and also every waking moment I thought of leaving this country.
In September I spent a few days in Toronto bonding with my cousin even more. I was there for the one year anniversary of her boyfriend's death (the boy she was going to marry), and even more importantly, their adorable daughter's christening, when I got to be godmother!
From there I went on to NYC to hang out with my cousin, catch up with some friends I hadn't seen in a while, including some of my old Houston crowd who came up to see me or happened to be in town at the same time. Even one of my cousins from Dallas was in town on business.
I returned unwillingly to London and even more discontent.
So I put in notice and we had to find a new flat by January. Christmas came and we had found nowhere. In desperation we took two rooms in a houseshare until we could find a flat. This is a non-place that even my ex landlady hasn't heard of even though we both live in NW London. But maybe this was a good beginning to the end of my time in this city.
The only thing keeping me going was my job. They wanted to hire me, actually, but I haven't spent all this money on higher education to be a secretary. So they took me on long term, and I appreciate having a steady source of income working with nice people.
Before things got worse deep down, though, I decided I would buy a one-way ticket to my friend's wedding in NYC. However, at Christmas, despite knowing this, my boss asked if I would stay until August. I agreed, but pretty soon my body was here and my mind was...in another country.
Added to that, with the stress, disgust, and depression, I caught every infection going round over the winter from November to March. I am used to being energetic, but I was exhausted every single day. The last straw was developing shingles, yes, kicking me when I'm down. After that the depression deepened enough that I wanted the world to go away. Easter weekend was the worst weekend of my life. Even worse than the one when my father walked out on us in 2001.
On Easter weekend I had some truly dark thoughts about not wanting to live anymore. I lay down on my bed and curled up, but shocked at my actions, I forced myself to get up and keep moving, though it hurt even to breathe. Probably the same spark that kept me going in the preemie ward and earned me the nickname Little Fighter.
Why did I come back here? Ostensibly to earn my Master's degree. It took two years. I should have returned soon after, but I didn't. I wanted to be the little adult and explore the world. And maybe subconsciously I wanted to escape from my parents' divorce. Were it not for the intensive studies, I would have been a useless wreck, apart from a month I lost in a blur after hearing about it.
Again, back on topic - Easter weekend:
The next day at work a perceptive fellow temp said I looked drained. Understanding my frustration because she was forced to leave a good life in South Africa after things changed, she told me a wonderful thing: "Sod the job. If every instinct is crying out for you to go, then go!"
I gave my notice, upset at breaking my word, but relieved at the same time. My boss said she knew I wouldn't make it. Everyone who knew even a little bit said, in short, "It's about time! You stayed longer than we'd expected!"
The next day, I progressively improved and that evening it felt as though the sun had risen in my soul!
And I want to recapture the person that America lets me be - independent, optimistic, ambitious, resourceful.
I am coming home! Yes, I know where my home is now. It is not where I was born, it is in the country that I love. And I should know, it was I who dragged my parents out there 20 years ago!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaah
I had written a catch up post here, and when I changed a post setting, I lost it!!!
Stay tuned for the second attempt, coming soon.
