Internet access? Check! (Finally...)

I'm feelin' pretty good about this moving stuff now...almost.

I finally (!) have Internet access in my flat as of yesterday. I can't tell you how good of a feeling it is to be plugged in again to modern society. While admittedly, it was pretty awesome to work at the British Libary, the only place I found with free wi-fi in London (save for Starbucks, which I personally boycott), it was getting pricey taking the tube each day. The other bummer is that I only found out about the wireless resource last week. Sigh.
Nonetheless, the library is absolutely huge, with children's field trips wondering through on an hourly basis. Zagat calls it "a 'bibliophile's dream' which is one of the capital's 'hidden gems' and therefore 'not particularly busy.'" It's true, too. Not-exactly-hidden next to cool-o King's Cross/St. Pancras (which rises like Sleeping Beauty's castle in the background), on the day I snapped this pic, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, with a Carolina blue sky, yet surprisingly, the courtyard wasn't overflowing with businesspeople eating lunch in the sunshine.
The second floor provides a wide pathway lined with chairs for folks to power up laptops and work away. Dimly lit and quiet with a three-floor wall of books across, it's a perfect refuge in which to send off CVs and search for employment, which is my job only right now. Sigh...

Of course, even with the search for work, one must enjoy the sights of this amazing city. On Friday, Steve and I trekked downtown (which is a word that does not exist in his vernacular for Central London -- "it's just 'town,'" he told me, rolling his eyes). While we were not to step foot in Leicester Square, for fear that he'd turn to stone being with all of those (a-hem!) tourists, we did take a stop at two of my favorite city places, first stopping at Gordon's Wine Bar. I love this place. It's cave-like, offers some of the best wines ev-ah, and boasts all sorts of old newspaper clippings in frames decorating the walls. Steve said he didn't believe they were real. I begged to differ. "Look at the crease in the middle of the paper," I defended. "Of course it's authentic!"
"Now really," he reasoned, "if one were to make a reproduction of a newspaper, of course one would photoshop in a crease for it to appear genuine..." Meh.

After Gordon's, we walked down past Trafalgar to my other fun nightspot, The International. This is the place that Tracy and I hunted desperately for during the entirety of our first trip to London in May 2006, after randomly discovering it the first night of our arrival. The reason we were unable to find it? We were mistakenly told that it was called Metropolitan. Humph. Thus, every time we'd ask, "Do you know where Metropolitan is? We want to go there again!" the response was always, "Um, no -- never heard of it." The last night of that trip we coincidentally fell upon it with some locals. It was then that I learned a very important lesson: When traveling, should you come across a place you really enjoy, take a picture of the outside and its name. Sigh.

Anywho, The International boasts one of the best (read: most American) martinis that I've ever found in this city. Hooray! Added to that is its impressive Pimms drinks, served with a veritable buffet of food in the cocktail itself. Seriously. It's a cocktailer's dream.

Saturday was spent in Clapham at The Avalon for Ruth's birthday celebration. The champagne was flowing at her table and everyone was enjoying the company and the fun surroundings, which included a chain chandelier that I believe was to be in the spirit of King Arthur...Good times.

Now back to work and finding a job. Thankfully, my new sofabed will be delivered tomorrow morning, between (yikes!) 7-9 a.m. I'm oh-so-looking forward to it, as sitting on an air mattress in my front room seems incredibly Bohemian...and not in a good way.

And the ten boxes of my stuff (clothes, kitchenware, shoes)? Still not to be delivered until 27th October...if then. Argh. Five pairs of shoes is just not enough for a month's time. This rots and I desperately want to be reunited with my 78 pairs of shoe friends...

The Price is Right..!

Done deal. Car's sold.

Now all I need to do is arrange for a rental car for a couple of weeks until I leave. Meh, I'll worry about that in the next day or so. This should be interesting: "Um, can I get a rental car for every other day, but I need it for the Labor Day weekend, and then back to every other day, but not for that last Wednesday, and then I need a one-way rental up to NY." Yeah, that's a three-hour phone call to which I'm not looking forward.

The gentleman who purchased the STR Benzo is the kindest, most honorable man I've met in a long time. He's buying the car for his first-year college student son...um...who's currently driving a BMW 540. Nice. My first car was a turbo-charged Mitsubishi Cordia. Nope. No one ever knows what that is. Meh, I did love that car...until Trish crashed it into the back of a Mercedes and totaled it.

Anywho, this kind sir moved from the EU to the States, so we had quite a conversation about my upcoming life-change. In fact, we're going to lunch this week to further talk moving, other countries and the social dimension of globalization. This new friendship has really restored a bit of my faith in humanity. Typically selling a car is such a hassle (which, if you saw some of the creepy responses I received, you'd agreed), but this turned into a really nice experience. Hopefully a harbinger of things yet to come...

And I could use a bit of good harbingers right now. Of late, I've been wondering if the gods are trying to tell me something...Julian was to view two flats on my behalf on Monday morning. Just before the meeting, one of the agents e-mailed to advise that the flat had structural damage and wouldn't be ready for a month or so. Good times. I can picture Star and I, hanging in a flat, watching tv, as pieces of the ceiling crumble and fall upon our heads.

The other agent said he'd show Julian two flats in the nearby area. Great. Cool. Sounded good.

So poor, dear Julian - suffering from G0M0 (the one right before H1N1) - drove his lil' Mini down to meet the agent for the appointment. Not to be, however, as his car made a horrific noise (the clutch?) and he had to retreat back toward his mechanic. Argh!

I've now expanded my flat search to surrounding areas. Please, please! Won't someone give me and Star a home...if even just for six months? Crikey. Why is it so hard to find one tiny flat in a really big, expansive city like London?

It has to be easier than this...

Hmm...Although I've had a few personal wins at work this week (and it's only Tuesday!), I'm a bit deflated by a few new occurrences in the moving world...

In this wonderfully connected world of the Internet in which we live, we have the voyeuristic ability to read all about strangers' lives. (Man, that sounded a bit creepy...) I was taking some "me" time last night, searching the Web for England/London links and found a blog written by an Australian girl. She was relating her stories of the week, mainly how she was convinced she'd be fired this week, didn't have enough money to stay and would likely have to move back. Sigh.

Then, during my daily two-hour morning news scan, I can find nothing except how awful the economy is and how we're all doomed and destined to lose our jobs and have to start raising hens to sell at a farmers market, for there will be no industries, no white collar jobs (the white collar crimes having already been committed...). Ugh, ugh.

There's a really depressing timeline here: I need the visa (before any more new, restrictive changes go into effect) in order to get a job. I need a job in order to be able to move. I need to move in order to be happier.

The starting point is the job. No one is going to hire a lil' Yank when all of the natives are being dismissed (or "made redundant"). Red said that things are bad everywhere, but just because they are, doesn't mean I'll never get to go. Humph. It doesn't really help when you'd already had everything mapped out.

Like the LOL cat, today I haz a sad.