Today I have had time to reflect on where I was this time last year.
Last year, on this very day, I arrived in Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport from Heathrow, and found myself in a rather sticky situation. I was going to be too late to pick up my keys for my room on campus at HEC, and knew no one in the city. Additionally unhelpful was anyone around me, with seemingly no one speaking English, including numerous people stationed at various customer service desks. Thankfully I happened across a fellow kiwi who was also alone in the city however, and she very kindly offered to let me bunk down on the floor of her hotel room for the night until I could pull myself the following day. Actually it was a little lucky for her also because although my French was barely equivalent to a three year olds level, armed with my lonely planet guide I did manage to navigate us through the perils of Paris to our abode for the night.
The point of this little narrative however is not to point out how hopeless I am at organizing my travel (usually such failures resulting from a gross over estimation of my abilities at either packing or getting from one side of a city to the other when I have no plan of how I am going to do so) but rather to report the parallels of the situation I find myself in exactly one year later. I once more find myself homeless and staying with some kindly sole who has taken pity upon me (I think I mentioned my dearest cousin in yesterdays blog) with limited knowledge of a city I have just arrived in. There is also another similarity however, which is that I am having dinner this evening with a group of girls (although last year it was just one) who, bar one I have never meet before in my life. Despite this however, I am almost certain that I will have a great night. Although we may be dateless on Valentine Day, we females do not need the company of males, do not need cards, flowers, chocolates or champagne. (insert triumphant so there look here) and we don't even need to know each other to band together at such times as this.
In other news I have officially become the 'on call' temp of my recruitment agency. Wrenched out of bed this morning at 8.30 I have spent the day looking at Ferrari's, Maserati's, Lamborghini's and the like. May be screwing up every 5th phone call as the receptionist here, but at least I have had some pretty things to look at!
Till next time- Joy Bells
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Dear readers (if there are any),
Recently I was asked what ever happened to my blog, I went from almost daily entries, to nothing for months. The documentation of my Viennese experience fell by the wayside, and this sadly was before anything interesting had happened. My trip to Budapest for example, or more notably when I went skiing on a glacier in Austria and attended a Devil festival (yes you did read correctly, and no I haven't joined any strange cults recently).
In Austria it is not Father Christmas or even Santa or St Nicholas that supposedly delivers presents to children, but instead 'the Christ Child' (don't ask me about the details, never figured it out). In a traditional festival at the village stayed at hundreds of people dressed as demons/ devils (costumes cost thousands of euros and include full suits of animal skins and individually crafted masks) took to the streets, armed with torches and whips, in order, I suppose, to scare the hell out of the children and show them just who would be visiting them if they didn't brush their teeth and cob their hair in the lead up to Christmas. Let me say right now though, as a scare tactic it was extremely effective on more than just children, and they didn't hesitate in using their whips on anyone. As it happened I copped one nasty whipping after being chased down the street. The fact that I couldn't even attempt to beg for mercy (Language barriers, but then even if I had been paying attention in German class am fairly certain there weren't any classes in devil begging...), or that I tried to hide behind a family in a doorstep was no deterrent to this demon, will have to figure out how to post the video of me receiving this whipping, I may be smiling but it hurt like hell!
Anyway, the point is that I have been up to some interesting things! Until now. I see a pattern emerging, having moved again to London this time, (hopefully I am now not going anywhere for at least a year, but who knows) I find myself once more with time on my hands to begin flogging again. I am then seizing the opportunity to rant and rave about how crap landings weather is, how the pastries are no where as good as in Vienna, and how the wine doesn't come close to that found in Paris. So, where to begin...
I arrived n Heathrow after spending a week in Paris on the 31st of January, only to remember how irritating it is to be able to hear peoples conversations when they were speaking around you. No not hear, I correct myself, understand. Whether they are being obnoxious, overzealous, speaking about their recent penile operation, what ever, being able to eavesdrop on peoples private lives again after a year of being spared from this made me want to turn around and get back on the first flight out again. I became the official dosser at my mates place (for a fee, living in London is an expensive, even if you are sleeping on the couch!) before now becoming resident room sitter at my cousins place while she laps up the sunshine in Aussie for a couple of weeks. In short my current status: Unemployed (I don't count the days data entry I have lined for tomorrow as a job), Homeless (similarly I don't count my cousins room as a long term housing solution), and feeling thoroughly unhappy with Britain's weather. I feel rather like Bridget Jones writing this actually, only without the smoking, large underwear and Hugh Grant and whats his name fighting over me. Sad but true. Anyway, sorry for the tangents but welcome back and keep tuning in for more updates on, well, me, and hopefully my successful transformation from Otago Sacrfie, to Successful Corporate Londoner (hahah).
Bisous
Joy
Recently I was asked what ever happened to my blog, I went from almost daily entries, to nothing for months. The documentation of my Viennese experience fell by the wayside, and this sadly was before anything interesting had happened. My trip to Budapest for example, or more notably when I went skiing on a glacier in Austria and attended a Devil festival (yes you did read correctly, and no I haven't joined any strange cults recently).
In Austria it is not Father Christmas or even Santa or St Nicholas that supposedly delivers presents to children, but instead 'the Christ Child' (don't ask me about the details, never figured it out). In a traditional festival at the village stayed at hundreds of people dressed as demons/ devils (costumes cost thousands of euros and include full suits of animal skins and individually crafted masks) took to the streets, armed with torches and whips, in order, I suppose, to scare the hell out of the children and show them just who would be visiting them if they didn't brush their teeth and cob their hair in the lead up to Christmas. Let me say right now though, as a scare tactic it was extremely effective on more than just children, and they didn't hesitate in using their whips on anyone. As it happened I copped one nasty whipping after being chased down the street. The fact that I couldn't even attempt to beg for mercy (Language barriers, but then even if I had been paying attention in German class am fairly certain there weren't any classes in devil begging...), or that I tried to hide behind a family in a doorstep was no deterrent to this demon, will have to figure out how to post the video of me receiving this whipping, I may be smiling but it hurt like hell!
Anyway, the point is that I have been up to some interesting things! Until now. I see a pattern emerging, having moved again to London this time, (hopefully I am now not going anywhere for at least a year, but who knows) I find myself once more with time on my hands to begin flogging again. I am then seizing the opportunity to rant and rave about how crap landings weather is, how the pastries are no where as good as in Vienna, and how the wine doesn't come close to that found in Paris. So, where to begin...
I arrived n Heathrow after spending a week in Paris on the 31st of January, only to remember how irritating it is to be able to hear peoples conversations when they were speaking around you. No not hear, I correct myself, understand. Whether they are being obnoxious, overzealous, speaking about their recent penile operation, what ever, being able to eavesdrop on peoples private lives again after a year of being spared from this made me want to turn around and get back on the first flight out again. I became the official dosser at my mates place (for a fee, living in London is an expensive, even if you are sleeping on the couch!) before now becoming resident room sitter at my cousins place while she laps up the sunshine in Aussie for a couple of weeks. In short my current status: Unemployed (I don't count the days data entry I have lined for tomorrow as a job), Homeless (similarly I don't count my cousins room as a long term housing solution), and feeling thoroughly unhappy with Britain's weather. I feel rather like Bridget Jones writing this actually, only without the smoking, large underwear and Hugh Grant and whats his name fighting over me. Sad but true. Anyway, sorry for the tangents but welcome back and keep tuning in for more updates on, well, me, and hopefully my successful transformation from Otago Sacrfie, to Successful Corporate Londoner (hahah).
Bisous
Joy
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