great
I need to actually update as everytime I do it's to make people pity me and send me shit, or it's about something no one wants to know. Then when people ask what I'm up to I can't be bothered to tell more than one person.
So here goes: a real update.
I have an excellent new job. I work at London's biggest sportsbar in the center of town (Pall Mall-like the monopoly board!) and get the fabulous opportunity of wearing a skanky netball outfit. Initially, I was terrified, I expected to be the awkward pale addition to the team of tanned hard-bodied amazons, but in truth I work with a bunch of girls who unconvincingly suck in their stomachs over their shifts. I'm loving the place, it's got four bars, a dance floor and dj, an HD lounge and a pool lounge. Every sports game at any given moment is playing and I'm supposed to know all the stats off the top of my head. If we get caught watching a tv, we're instantly fired, so hooray that I don't care for sports anymore. We, the girls, are not to be touched by anyone, including people we know and we need to strut around with a tray on one hand only, which is tough when football games are on, as a giant moving mass of 700 men and cigarette ambers romps around in reaction to the game around us, endangering the pints we're carrying and periodically spilling beer down our naked legs. Sticky business. We always have runways on the ground on busy days, where we walk with our bodyguards who remove anyone who touches us or stands in the way. I feel so VIP indeed. I am still "in training" although I memorized all the menus on my train commutes and should hopefully get to full serve soon. Once I do that, I can make at least 100 dollars to 1000 dollars a shift in tips alone. The latter being if we're extremely fucking lucky and charming. I find I have transformed into the netball outfit, making suggestive comments and facial expression left, right and center, which gets me great tips and random friends, neither of which Im allowed to keep. Everyone there is not local to London and I've made some French friends. I'm not entirely sure if I like them or just their language.
Joanna is here in London, she's absolutely wonderful. She's been filling me on on what the Victorians are up to as know one else seems to be arsed to. There's a lot of things I didnt want to know, and drugs at shows and trendy depressive attitudes don't make anyone who hasn't so much as left Victoria worldy or as experienced as they think, which sucks because lots of people I wouldnt expect seem to think that's all there is and are really shutting themselves in.
Joanna and I went to the Absolut Ice Bar on Tuesday night. I don't remember anything from the night but the pictures are hilareous. We got in trouble for smashing and eating our glasses but EVERYTHING is ice and so tempting to lick. Plus with a $30 entry fee, we should be allowed to eat the decor.
Here are some pics though, hers are better for sure as there's a lot of me lying basically everywhere and being a drunken nerd.
Pre drinking. We bought four bottles are sketchy wine for £10 which isn't even a good deal really.
Pre drunk.
Ice Bar
Eating glass.
The next day we made pastabeansnbacon. I lurved it.
Joanna not so much.
Last night I went to a vip party in Leicester Sq. How great is being "on the list"? Especially when velvet roped areas are involved. We had a private room for my coworkers, as the girl who trained me is leaving, and I danced with the latino kitchen workers until the early hours. I felt disgusting as I hadn't been home in days and was mysterious covered in ketchup and chocolate, which Joanna had to explain to me. Drunken McDonaldsing apparently.
Then, Michelle (who actually comes from Cobble Hill and used to be a soccer rival of mine, how wild) and I went to ...Burger King? and I proceeded to get lost/followed/cold in the center of London trying to find the right bus station after the tube had closed. I passed out on the bus and woke up near my house at 4am. Everyone woke up thinking I was robbing the house and no one seems to remember that I live here.
Today I spent the afternoon sleeping in my familys living room in the comfort of the hungover fetal position.
My little cousin and I made cookie dough icecream which was sickeningly great. I really don't miss living in my own place. My roomates would so not have been down with icecream making. And this way, I won't find rats wallowing in it in the morning.
And my bondage pants arrived from Hong Kong and my family hates them. I love being an asian goth wannabe. I must go rock them in Camden.
My head kills.
Tristan's here in 20 days. <3333333
Blush/
So here goes: a real update.
I have an excellent new job. I work at London's biggest sportsbar in the center of town (Pall Mall-like the monopoly board!) and get the fabulous opportunity of wearing a skanky netball outfit. Initially, I was terrified, I expected to be the awkward pale addition to the team of tanned hard-bodied amazons, but in truth I work with a bunch of girls who unconvincingly suck in their stomachs over their shifts. I'm loving the place, it's got four bars, a dance floor and dj, an HD lounge and a pool lounge. Every sports game at any given moment is playing and I'm supposed to know all the stats off the top of my head. If we get caught watching a tv, we're instantly fired, so hooray that I don't care for sports anymore. We, the girls, are not to be touched by anyone, including people we know and we need to strut around with a tray on one hand only, which is tough when football games are on, as a giant moving mass of 700 men and cigarette ambers romps around in reaction to the game around us, endangering the pints we're carrying and periodically spilling beer down our naked legs. Sticky business. We always have runways on the ground on busy days, where we walk with our bodyguards who remove anyone who touches us or stands in the way. I feel so VIP indeed. I am still "in training" although I memorized all the menus on my train commutes and should hopefully get to full serve soon. Once I do that, I can make at least 100 dollars to 1000 dollars a shift in tips alone. The latter being if we're extremely fucking lucky and charming. I find I have transformed into the netball outfit, making suggestive comments and facial expression left, right and center, which gets me great tips and random friends, neither of which Im allowed to keep. Everyone there is not local to London and I've made some French friends. I'm not entirely sure if I like them or just their language.
Joanna is here in London, she's absolutely wonderful. She's been filling me on on what the Victorians are up to as know one else seems to be arsed to. There's a lot of things I didnt want to know, and drugs at shows and trendy depressive attitudes don't make anyone who hasn't so much as left Victoria worldy or as experienced as they think, which sucks because lots of people I wouldnt expect seem to think that's all there is and are really shutting themselves in.
Joanna and I went to the Absolut Ice Bar on Tuesday night. I don't remember anything from the night but the pictures are hilareous. We got in trouble for smashing and eating our glasses but EVERYTHING is ice and so tempting to lick. Plus with a $30 entry fee, we should be allowed to eat the decor.
Here are some pics though, hers are better for sure as there's a lot of me lying basically everywhere and being a drunken nerd.
Pre drinking. We bought four bottles are sketchy wine for £10 which isn't even a good deal really.
Pre drunk.
Ice Bar
Eating glass.
The next day we made pastabeansnbacon. I lurved it.
Joanna not so much.
Last night I went to a vip party in Leicester Sq. How great is being "on the list"? Especially when velvet roped areas are involved. We had a private room for my coworkers, as the girl who trained me is leaving, and I danced with the latino kitchen workers until the early hours. I felt disgusting as I hadn't been home in days and was mysterious covered in ketchup and chocolate, which Joanna had to explain to me. Drunken McDonaldsing apparently.
Then, Michelle (who actually comes from Cobble Hill and used to be a soccer rival of mine, how wild) and I went to ...Burger King? and I proceeded to get lost/followed/cold in the center of London trying to find the right bus station after the tube had closed. I passed out on the bus and woke up near my house at 4am. Everyone woke up thinking I was robbing the house and no one seems to remember that I live here.
Today I spent the afternoon sleeping in my familys living room in the comfort of the hungover fetal position.
My little cousin and I made cookie dough icecream which was sickeningly great. I really don't miss living in my own place. My roomates would so not have been down with icecream making. And this way, I won't find rats wallowing in it in the morning.
And my bondage pants arrived from Hong Kong and my family hates them. I love being an asian goth wannabe. I must go rock them in Camden.
My head kills.
Tristan's here in 20 days. <3333333
Blush/