over-caffeinated

The best thing about dying ones hair dark brown is that it allows you to totally get away with not washing your hair for four days. Instead of looking stringy and greasy, it just looks glossy. GLOSSSY.

None of that 'it's not grease because I'm too lazy to wash my hair - my hair is just naturally three shades darker at the roots' crap.

...

Today is officially my last Friday at work (I still have a Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday to get through), and in honour of the occasion, I've accidentally ordered an extra shot in my soya latté. I'm totally jittery, and just typed this whole blog without looking at the screen.

MMMMMMMMCafffieennnnne.

future cat lady

I've realised lately that I'm starting to become one of those people who always has a spot of some form of dried-on food or cocktail or toothpaste stuck to me at all times.

It may be because much of my beloved polyester came with built-in stains, which are so very hard to see in the dank, moldy atomsphere that vintage shops tend to adhere to.

Or it may be because I just can't be arsed* to do laundry lately, and would prefer to spend the extra ten minutes that it would take to comb my wardrobe for offending spots doing something useful, like reading the back of a box of Raisin Bran cereal.

In any case, I'm quickly becoming crazy polyester-clad stain lady with natty hair who talks to herself and makes up words like 'hingent' and 'politefully'.

Perhaps I should get a cat.

*I'm patiently waiting for the Australian vernacular that I picked up from Greg to weed itself from my system...

Europe's always been real good to me.

I have a terrible habit of writing something here, and then just forgetting about my blog for a few days...weeks...months. When I come back to it, I'm always surprised with what I've left behind.

It's kind of like taking a shower and leaving your underpants hanging on the towel rack. You come back to the bathroom at the end of the day to realise that the entire house has seen your underpants. But you've since moved on...

Not that my visa issues are sorted out or anything, but it feels like a lot has happened since I last wrote.

Most importantly, I've booked my trip to Eastern Europe. I'm overjoyed at the thought of travelling again. None of this crappy weekend city-break stuff - a proper three week backpacking trip through three countries. I've been wanting to go to Croatia since I arrived in London 2 years ago, and I'm so excited to finally be heading there...it felt like it would never actually happen. It's the first stop on a trip that will take me through Croatia, across Hungary and into Poland. So. Excited.

And, while on the topic of booking trips, I've officially booked my flight home to Canada.

And it's a one-way ticket.

On September 28, I will officially leave London. I will drag my laden suitcase to Gatwick airport, board a budget charter airline, and watch the city dissolve from view.

But goodbye is never forever.

Wherever I end up in the upcomimg months, be it New York, Toronto, Montreal or some place I've not even dreamed of yet, I know I will be back here someday.

London won't change too much, but at the same time, I know I will.

I already have.

first we take Manhattan (or at least try to)

I've been offered a job, working for an influential art gallery in New York City.

Sounds like a simple choice, right?

Not so much, if you are:

a) A Canadian citizen not covered under the NAFTA Professional Job Series List
b) Not "one of that small percentage who have risen to the very top of the field of endeavor"
c) Not someone who "who because of their exceptional ability in the sciences, arts, or business will substantially benefit the national economy, cultural, or educational interests or welfare of the United States"
or
d) Not a sheepherder

Despite the fact that said gallery wants to hire me, and also despite the fact that I am highly qualified for the position, getting a visa to work in the USA is proving to be a major hassle. I realise that it's probably no joy attempting to work in Canada either, but it's just so discouraging to be trying to get into a country that seems to be trying so hard not to let me in.

AND, after spending over an hour staring at convoluted immigration documents, seeing your reflection on the side of a bus - which makes your hips look like they could span the Isle of Manhattan - is a bit much.

Does anyone out there have any *insider tips* on getting into the U S of A?

In an attempt to alleviate annoying comment spam, I've enabled word verification for all comments.

Take that, stupid anonymous and your links that I'm most definitely not interested in.

a bunch of things that I keep forgetting to write about

A few weeks ago, I went to check out Fuerzabruta at the Roundhouse. The show was completely amazing, and completely unlike anything I've ever seen. AND, as an added bonus for being the closet exhibitionist that I am, I was pulled on stage to experience the joy of dancing on a platform in front of hundreds of people while dry wall was repeatedly cracked over my head.

I wasn't brave enough to take my camera, but there are some amazing photos on Flickr.

It's only in London until the end of August, so if the opportunity to go should find you, take it.

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Last week saw me at the Mean Fiddler with the Weakerthans.

I admit that I have a soft spot for the Weakerthans. I went through a period about 2 or 3 years ago when reading Weakerthans lyrics was like reading poetry that had been composed soley for me.

The audience sang along to nearly every song, which was amazing. I may be biased because I'm Canadian, but they were fantastic.

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The burlesque might *finally* be going burlesque next Friday. I will make a dedicated effort to post several words about the debauchery and delight of it all.