in_stead: (brolly)
Am here and safe and tucked up in [ profile] lazlet's spare room. My bottom is numb and I am jetlagged, but, you know, in England. It was a remarkably lovely trip. I never once stood in a line for longer than fifteen minutes, I was not patted down by security at either end, and nothing was lost or confiscated at any stage of the journey. The plane left and landed precisely on time, I had a seat at one of the emergency exit doors which meant plenty of leg room, and the food wasn't even that bad. I was out of Heathrow and on the road within an hour of the plane's wheels hitting tarmac -- unheard of! -- and the ever lovely [ profile] lazlet met me with tea.

In other news, I now live at Greenwich Mean Time. This makes me immeasurably happy in about the same region that the toaster panic took place.
in_stead: (brolly)
Am at a hotel in Toronto. After an epic unpacking and repacking, I have got my two suitcases and two carry-ons down to regulation weight.

Sort of. Well, mostly. Very, very close.

And I am hoping that whoever is checking me in tomorrow is just a little bit flexible -- to the tune of a pound or two per bag, according to the bathroom scale that we brought with us from North Bay -- when we're all at the scale tomorrow.

Um. Hi. Last night in Canada.

in_stead: (fuck bees)
Leaving tomorrow first thing to drive down to Toronto. Day after, getting on the plane. The Ontario College of Teachers is missing documentation from me that I SENT THEM ages ago, but I am apparently still working within the reasonable processing time and should only start panicking two weeks from now. I am going in to get my university laptop wiped today. I can only hope that my current criminal records check is back at the police station, because they were only willing to promise it would be done on WEDNESDAY, which is of no help to me whatsoever.

And now, a wonderful metaphor for my state of being the last couple of days, as presented by Grover:

in_stead: (take my bearings)



That is all.
in_stead: (dalektic)
Today I enjoyed one of those most rare days: a good bra shopping day.

For years, the bra companies have been maintaining a near universal opinion that people shaped like me do not exist. What? A girl with that cup size and that measurement around the ribs? they have said. Impossible! You must be mistaken. You must be either two inches narrower or a cup size larger than you are.

Bra shopping for me tends to be of the what-is-there-in-my-size-okay-I'll-take-it variety.

Today, however, not only where there scads of bras in my size, they were all hung at the front! I didn't even have to go foraging back into the Narnianesque-depths of the racks. And they were on sale.

I bought five.

Things I refuse to think about:

1. doping scandles in cycling.
2. the extreme liklihood that I will have to check my laptops and mp3 player and camera in checked baggage which is treated roughly and frequently stolen from.1

1 for all that I am refusing to think about it, I am preparing for it. We're buying a hard-sided case that is of carry-on size when we drive down to Toronto on Tuesday. I've already bought a bunch of foam to cut down to size for protection. If they don't make me check it, the case will be carry-on size. If they do, my electronics will be protected. From rough treatment, anyway. And I'm backing everything up on flashdrives which will be coming with me in case of theft. So.
in_stead: (brolly)
countdown )

In other news, my thanks to everyone who replied to yesterday's toaster panic. It has now passed.

Back to packing up. Someone is moving into my room shortly after I leave it -- a temporary answer to a family friend's housing crisis, wherein he had an apartment for the year and then it fell through unexpectedly and he is in Manitoba and only came out for a weekend a while back to settle the housing issue and can't come back now to fix it, so -- which has raised the bar significantly. I really honestly have to pack everything up.

Also, I am running out of room in my suitcases, but not out of things that need to be packed.

in_stead: (pain in my head)
I woke up this morning with a migraine and the deep and abiding worry that they may not have a toaster at my prospective residence in London. What would I do without a toaster? It would be intolerable. And, of course, I probably couldn't afford to buy a toaster until after I get paid for the first time, half way through September. How can I possibly manage without toast for a month?

I am plagued with these weighty concerns. It is a trial, I tell you.

one week, exactly, as of an hour ago. O.O
in_stead: (brolly)
So. Hi. Eight days.

I am told that I will not be able to get internet in at my place of residence. I have also heard, on the sly, from people who were staying there in February that there is someone in the area that has WiFi and that internet may be bootlegged so long as you are willing to spend all your time balancing your computer on the window sill.

Which, of course, I am, particularly as the other option is an internet cafe that is many blocks away.

I am not sure how well I will manage with possibly very limited internet access. What will I do without email? LJ? Fandom? Porn? Unlimited information on every single topic in existance right at my fingertips? Did I mention porn?

Other points of concern to occur to me as the date of my flight out looms ever nearer:

- I am a creature of extremely predictable nutritional habits. I've had Bran Flakes for breakfast almost every single day for years. I always buy exactly the same kind of jam and peanut butter and coffee. I have one thing at every restaurant I go to regularly that I always, always order. I am going to have to get all new regular things when I move to England. This is a daunting task. I am not sure I am equal to it.
- I do not have slippers. I need slippers. It's England. It's damp there. My feet will get cold.
- What if I am a terrible teacher? I'm not -- I am, in fact, a very good teacher. I have the evaluations and glowing letters of recommendation to prove it. But they are, perhaps, wrong. What if I screw up the lives of all the children I come into contact with? I believe I would feel bad about that.
- London is VERY BIG. On the other hand, Stead once lived there. As did Wellington. I'm sure I'll manage.
- I will have to learn how to ride my bike on the other side of the road. I am bound to get confused. I must see if I can find a handbook of some sort to guide me through this transition.
- What if I forget something very important?

That is all I have to say about that.
in_stead: (homework)
Dear self,


No, for serious. You're playing chauffer to your sister at unfair o'clock tomorrow morning, not to mention the fact that you always wake up early for the Tour anyway. And your parents are coming home from the cabin, so you need to spend some time tomorrow morning bringing all your packing detritus, which has spilled into the hallway, back into your bedroom.

Be sensible, please. Go to bed now.

Yours with love,
[ profile] in_stead
in_stead: (read more)
So, I've started sorting and packing my belongings -- which mostly consist of books, and how very much the student cliche am I? -- for storage while I'm in England. My parents' garage has a big, empty space under the roof -- we're going to lay plywood down over the rafters, stack my boxes up, and tarp the whole pile to keep the lot dry.

And it's surprising me how very difficult I'm finding it to pack up my history books. I got rid of a lot of them in the last move, and more again with this sorting, so all that remains are the ones that I really, really love. All the old Stead and Victorian publishing sources, bits of literary and journalism theory, meta-sources on the history of popular culture and British imperialism, and a pile of Wellington biographies and biopics.

I don't want to box them up for an indefinite period of storage! I want to bring them with me and keep them and pet them and love them and even, occasionally, read them!


In other news, the packing process is proving quite interesting. I pick up an empty box, balance it on a chair, fill it up with books, and then call someone to come and take it away as I am still not allowed to lift anything. I could get used to this oi, you, come'ere and do the heavy lifting for me approach to life.
in_stead: (Default)
Oh, right, unpacking!

*searches for the box with the clean underpants in it*
in_stead: (text)
I have five plus years of pack rat-ism strewn across my floors, I have chewed my previously respectable fingernails off, my father can't come to help because of a work emergency, I have twelve hundred forty nine seven fifteen eight eleven twenty two nine things to do tomorrow before my mother arrives with the moving truck at eleven o'clock, another seventy nine two four thousand twelve eleventy nine eight one seven things to do after she leaves with the truck a few hours later, I may have accidentally packed the pair of clean underpants I meant to wear tomorrow, and my father talked me into leaving my bike behind when I came up to Ottawa to sort things out so I HAVEN'T RIDDEN IN DAYS AND I'M NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT. I AM SO SICK OF PACKING I CAN'T EVEN. WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME I HAD ACCUMULATED THIS MUCH CRAP? I'M GOING TO MISS MY DISHES WHEN I MOVE BACK INTO MY PARENTS' HOUSE. I'M NOT GOING TO HAVE EVERYTHING READY IN TIME AND MY MOTHER IS GOING TO BE DISPLEASED. MY THESIS DEFENCE HAS BEEN SET FOR A DAY WHEN I'M SUPPOSED TO BE PRACTICE TEACHING AND THE COMMITTEE IS COMPOSED OF CANADIAN AND WOMEN'S HISTORIANS, WHICH REALLY ISN'T WHAT MY THESIS IS ABOUT. I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY MISS MY BIKE.

That is all. Carry on.
in_stead: (text)
I am thinking of finding a cult that requires you to turn over all your worldly possessions and joining it.

At this point, it seems a far better option than packing.

In other news, my apologies to people who've emailed and not been replied to. I will get back to you, I promise. Um, eventually. Soonish. I think.
in_stead: (Default)
The bike.

Oh. My. God.

The bike.

I am actually, earnestly, not-faking-for-internet-fun at a loss for words to describe how wonderful the bike is. I rode for a little over two hours today and felt like I could have easily gone for another two, except for the fact that I really did need to get back to packing. I even managed to get the hang of clipless pedals right off, which work rather like ski bindings. The gentlemen at Full Cycle out and out promised me that I would fall off the bike a couple of times before it got through to my subconscious that my feet were actually bound into the pedals and that I needed to twist out to release them. Apparently, however, a lifetime of downhill skiing has served me in good stead and I had no trouble at all adjusting.

Anyway, the bike proved to be even more fabulous over the first ride than I had expected it to be after my three second spin around the cycle shop's parking lot. I can't wait for tomorrow when, if I get up early enough, I get to do it again.

Also on the plate for tomorrow: FINALLY TURNING MY THESIS IN HEY YEAH RIGHT ON. Loading up my car with my cats, bikes, skis, guitar (which will likely be sad and lonely in the presence of all those other matched pairs), and anything else that will fit. Driving to North Bay.

But enough about the mundane nonsense. I'm going to go back to thinking about my bike now.
in_stead: (morning after king)
Somebody please assure me that I'm not the only person tempted to do an entire meme just so that I can give a smartass answer to one question.

(Name brand of your shoes currently wearing? "Shoes? I'm not even wearing PANTS!")


In other news, I've been packing my life into boxes. I am finding it unexpectedly distressing to be dismantalling my apartment. I've lived almost two years longer here than I've lived anywhere else in my entire life. I don't particularly want to leave. Not that I want to be heading back for another year at Carleton -- I've spent a sufficient amount of time there as it is, thank you very much -- but if I could just stay in my apartment and get on with the next part of my life at the same time, that would be nice.

On the other hand, what I usually remember only after moving is that I really rather like it. I like changing cities. It's more exciting when you're not moving back some place, but still, I'm moving back to do something completely different from anything I've done before, which makes up for the familiarity of the place.

As well, I am getting a new bike. I am. And I am going to join a cycling club. I do hope it doesn't turn out like the time when I was in grade four and joined the school's cross country running club. All I learned from that experience is that a) I am not a runner, and b) it is embarassing to be lapped twice by the pack before you finish your first time around the course.

in_stead: (Default)

The Montreal weekend was great. [ profile] jubilancy and [ profile] oneangrykate(s) are great. [ profile] mcee was as lovely as ever, but in a completely different city than I'm used to her being lovely in. I saw my Montreal cousins, and they were great. I barely thought about my thesis at all, had a really seriously lovely time, and came home only very reluctantly. I am making plans to either kidnap or be kidnapped by the aforementioned Montreal girls permanently.

My cycling preoccupation is getting out of hand. Several Montreal cyclists think that they were being perved upon, when really I was lusting over their bikes. I cannot pass a cycling shop without sticking my nose against the window and trying to read the price tags on their display models. I am currently attempting to figure out what make and model of road bike offers the best value/cost balance, but the internet, for once, is not helping. I am very confused, but soldiering on.

Thesis continues to anti-develop. Thesis supervisor should get her requested couriered print out of it in hand tomorrow morning and perhaps something will happen shortly thereafter. Defense, I hear, should be early September some time.

I went to see Sky High with [ profile] lmondegreen this after noon. The movie was cute and amusing, and the same can be said, as always, of the company. Afterwards, I gave [ profile] lmondegreen a ride home and met her dog, who is absolutely adorable. He's big and affectionate and kind of floppy looking.

Tomorrow's plans include:

- bike ride
- getting passport pictures taken
- submitting passport renewal forms (w/ pictures)
- drooling over bikes at what seems to be a particularly well-favoured downtown cycling shop (all the models I'm most interested in list this particular shop as their Ottawa distributer)
- buying boxes to start packing my house up for the move to North Bay, which is coming up...quickly


in_stead: (Default)

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