Life as a Londoner
Adventures in London: or the less than fabulous life of a London temp.
So, life in the...Bigger city, is...not quite the round of sky high heels, theatre premieres and cocktails for which I had been led to hope (which just proves that silly girls shouldn't watch so much Sex and the City). In addition, as an honest woman, I must admit that I am actually not that keen on wearing a suit all day, every day. Searching for a job in these circumstances is...trying to say the least. You can not imagine how frustrating it is to be told, constantly, that you lack sufficient admin experience, when as temp, you are perfectly well aware that actually...admin is so easy a sixteen year old could do it. Plus, the other aspect of temping that truly sucks, is not knowing whether rent and/or food is something you'll be able to afford this month.
Still, somehow, I have managed to get an interview next week. For an actual job, working in an actual theatre. Not a good job mind you, but I've hit the point where I really don't care any more. If I get this job, I can stay in London, maybe get my own crappy studio flat...and be far, far away from my flatmates (who are...less than congenial at the moment). If I don't get the job...then I have to seriously consider moving back to Dublin.
Which isn't something I want to do. Yet. Don't get me wrong, Dublin is my home, and I'll always love my home, but...I'm perfectly well aware that this is maybe the only chance I'll ever have to do this, to truly immerse myself in another life, another country and culture and place, and I think it's important to do that, at least once. Just to transplant yourself, even if only so you'll know how it feels...both to be on the outside for once, and also to look back at your home from where you are now. (Mind you, I just watched Once, and now I'm homesick)
I mean, I think London has been very good for me. I've grown a lot since I've come here, and not in that 'I've been on a journey mumble mumble mumble' way but...in the learning to be self-reliant way. Not financially yet (unfortunately) but...emotionally. I mean, you can go too far, and repress all your stress and worry and 'how the hell will I survive on now work or money' to the point where it explodes all over your poor mother, who really didn't deserve that, but a certain amount of emotional self-sufficiency can only be good.
The thing is, one of the reasons I truly want to make this work is...because Aerin wanted me to. A year ago almost now, she was the person who really convinced me to stay, to try it out, and if nothing else, I want to find a way to make this work for her. I want to that at least for her, because I couldn't do anything else. And I still miss her, more than I can really explain.
Because I talked to her about all the messed up despair/depression/almost suicide stuff in my past, and I haven't talked to anyone about that in...god, years. And she understood it - the nature of that black hole inside yourself that you can just get lost in if you're not careful, or strong enough to resist its pull.
Because even though our approaches were utterly different, she was one of the only people...in the world...that I've ever been able to talk to about my writing, about what it means to me, and what I want to do with it.
There are a million other reasons why, but...most of them boil down to: Because she was my friend, and I love her, and I don't think there'll ever be a day when I don't think of her and miss her, and...I can't talk about this to most people. I don't want to burden them, or make it seem as though my loss is somehow...more important or bigger than theirs, but...
The things is, I've reached the point where, if I don't get this job, the only sensible, logical, adult thing to do is move back to Dublin, even if only temporarily. And I do want to be sensible, logical and adult. It's just that there's a very large part of me that can't bear the notion of disappointing my friend in the one thing she really wanted me to do, and I don't really know how to deal with it.
However, as shitty as temping and my London life have occasionally been, there are always moments of hilarity. Take for instance, this morning:
Me: (Has that thing no woman who wears heels wants to happen, when my stiletto disappears down a tiny wee hole. Flails about trying to remove it.)
Random Man: Here let me help you.
Me: No, really I'm fine. (Thinks: Go away. Can't you see I want to be ignored by the populace?)
Random Man: I'll fix it. (Wrenchs my shoe from the crevice with enough force to damage the heel. Keeps his hand on my ankle) You know, this almost like something from a film. (Looks up my skirt) Do you like films?
Me: Yeah. (Runs away as fast as my heels can carry me) Byeeeeeeeeeeee!
Or, in a nightclub toilet, explaining my man-woes to a friend over the phone, I say:
Me: I feel really awkward and uncomfortable, I don't know how to deal with it, except to drink more.
Friend: You have nothing to feel awkward about. He's the one in the wrong. You just go out there and make him realize it.
Me: But I can still drink more, right?
Friend: Sighs. (The particular sigh of someone who knows they'll be called tomorrow for a 'You won't believe what I did...' conversation)
Me: Drinks more. Ignores random people looking for blowjobs, talks about Bob Dylan, and apologizes to own feet on the way home.
Or, on the Tube, I get knocked into by an inept pickpocket.
Random Woman: Oh I'm sorry, I don't know how that happened.
Me: (Skeptical) Yeah. My hand ends up in other people's handbags all the time,
Random Woman: You too! I thought I was the only one.
Me: Glares.
Or, on the Train platform when I am approached by a creepy guy.
Creepy Guy: So why won't you give me your address?
Me: Well...emm...I
Creepy Guy: Is it cause you're scared I'll come into your room at night?
Me: ... (Thinks: Killed on a Tube platform - not a good way to go)
Or finally, in my very important Reception job in an investment bank, I am approached by two Australians who deal with currency and stock exchanges and numbers and other stuff I never want to understand,
Important Aussies Who Are Customers of the Bank: G'Day,
Me: OMG! I didn't think you actually said that.
The thing about London is that...for the people who live there, it's the Worst City in the World - except for all the Others. I've reached the point where I often say 'Oh London' in the same way I say 'Oh McNulty' when watching The Wire. It's actually a surprise when something doesn't go wrong.
So, life in the...Bigger city, is...not quite the round of sky high heels, theatre premieres and cocktails for which I had been led to hope (which just proves that silly girls shouldn't watch so much Sex and the City). In addition, as an honest woman, I must admit that I am actually not that keen on wearing a suit all day, every day. Searching for a job in these circumstances is...trying to say the least. You can not imagine how frustrating it is to be told, constantly, that you lack sufficient admin experience, when as temp, you are perfectly well aware that actually...admin is so easy a sixteen year old could do it. Plus, the other aspect of temping that truly sucks, is not knowing whether rent and/or food is something you'll be able to afford this month.
Still, somehow, I have managed to get an interview next week. For an actual job, working in an actual theatre. Not a good job mind you, but I've hit the point where I really don't care any more. If I get this job, I can stay in London, maybe get my own crappy studio flat...and be far, far away from my flatmates (who are...less than congenial at the moment). If I don't get the job...then I have to seriously consider moving back to Dublin.
Which isn't something I want to do. Yet. Don't get me wrong, Dublin is my home, and I'll always love my home, but...I'm perfectly well aware that this is maybe the only chance I'll ever have to do this, to truly immerse myself in another life, another country and culture and place, and I think it's important to do that, at least once. Just to transplant yourself, even if only so you'll know how it feels...both to be on the outside for once, and also to look back at your home from where you are now. (Mind you, I just watched Once, and now I'm homesick)
I mean, I think London has been very good for me. I've grown a lot since I've come here, and not in that 'I've been on a journey mumble mumble mumble' way but...in the learning to be self-reliant way. Not financially yet (unfortunately) but...emotionally. I mean, you can go too far, and repress all your stress and worry and 'how the hell will I survive on now work or money' to the point where it explodes all over your poor mother, who really didn't deserve that, but a certain amount of emotional self-sufficiency can only be good.
The thing is, one of the reasons I truly want to make this work is...because Aerin wanted me to. A year ago almost now, she was the person who really convinced me to stay, to try it out, and if nothing else, I want to find a way to make this work for her. I want to that at least for her, because I couldn't do anything else. And I still miss her, more than I can really explain.
Because I talked to her about all the messed up despair/depression/almost suicide stuff in my past, and I haven't talked to anyone about that in...god, years. And she understood it - the nature of that black hole inside yourself that you can just get lost in if you're not careful, or strong enough to resist its pull.
Because even though our approaches were utterly different, she was one of the only people...in the world...that I've ever been able to talk to about my writing, about what it means to me, and what I want to do with it.
There are a million other reasons why, but...most of them boil down to: Because she was my friend, and I love her, and I don't think there'll ever be a day when I don't think of her and miss her, and...I can't talk about this to most people. I don't want to burden them, or make it seem as though my loss is somehow...more important or bigger than theirs, but...
The things is, I've reached the point where, if I don't get this job, the only sensible, logical, adult thing to do is move back to Dublin, even if only temporarily. And I do want to be sensible, logical and adult. It's just that there's a very large part of me that can't bear the notion of disappointing my friend in the one thing she really wanted me to do, and I don't really know how to deal with it.
However, as shitty as temping and my London life have occasionally been, there are always moments of hilarity. Take for instance, this morning:
Me: (Has that thing no woman who wears heels wants to happen, when my stiletto disappears down a tiny wee hole. Flails about trying to remove it.)
Random Man: Here let me help you.
Me: No, really I'm fine. (Thinks: Go away. Can't you see I want to be ignored by the populace?)
Random Man: I'll fix it. (Wrenchs my shoe from the crevice with enough force to damage the heel. Keeps his hand on my ankle) You know, this almost like something from a film. (Looks up my skirt) Do you like films?
Me: Yeah. (Runs away as fast as my heels can carry me) Byeeeeeeeeeeee!
Or, in a nightclub toilet, explaining my man-woes to a friend over the phone, I say:
Me: I feel really awkward and uncomfortable, I don't know how to deal with it, except to drink more.
Friend: You have nothing to feel awkward about. He's the one in the wrong. You just go out there and make him realize it.
Me: But I can still drink more, right?
Friend: Sighs. (The particular sigh of someone who knows they'll be called tomorrow for a 'You won't believe what I did...' conversation)
Me: Drinks more. Ignores random people looking for blowjobs, talks about Bob Dylan, and apologizes to own feet on the way home.
Or, on the Tube, I get knocked into by an inept pickpocket.
Random Woman: Oh I'm sorry, I don't know how that happened.
Me: (Skeptical) Yeah. My hand ends up in other people's handbags all the time,
Random Woman: You too! I thought I was the only one.
Me: Glares.
Or, on the Train platform when I am approached by a creepy guy.
Creepy Guy: So why won't you give me your address?
Me: Well...emm...I
Creepy Guy: Is it cause you're scared I'll come into your room at night?
Me: ... (Thinks: Killed on a Tube platform - not a good way to go)
Or finally, in my very important Reception job in an investment bank, I am approached by two Australians who deal with currency and stock exchanges and numbers and other stuff I never want to understand,
Important Aussies Who Are Customers of the Bank: G'Day,
Me: OMG! I didn't think you actually said that.
The thing about London is that...for the people who live there, it's the Worst City in the World - except for all the Others. I've reached the point where I often say 'Oh London' in the same way I say 'Oh McNulty' when watching The Wire. It's actually a surprise when something doesn't go wrong.