The winds of change are changing

Did I say anything about my interview yet? Yeah I had an interview with ENA, European Nursing Agency. It went very well and the loved me. The only problem is that I don’t drive a stick so there is less opportunity for me to work with them as most people over here drive manual. They wouldn’t usually take on a male without standard driving as there are fewer opportunities for males. My B+ in Women’s Studies is throbbing at this fact but I guess that’s just how she goes. So I was asked to come back for the training the following Monday and because I lived 2.5 hours away from the training facility they decided to put me up in the local Ritz Carlton for the duration of my 4 day training. No, not really; I tell lies. I spent the 4 days with 2 other trainees in the company house which is kept for such as we. When I left the interview I went to Russell Square and ate a sandwich while feeding the birds, Mary Popins style. From here I got lost on the way to a museum which I eventually found some hour and a half later on foot. For those of you who are wondering, I have been doing some decent compensation for walking by indulging in the odd box of fried chicken, though I do try to keep the temple in working fashion. The museum was interesting but I get this exhausted feeling when I start looking at artefacts with alleged dates posted on them. I have little faith in the knowledge of man when it comes to dating systems, such as carbon dating, so I look at the items and think, “That’s a nice old piece.” But I don’t entertain too many of the dates, though the descriptions of use are often quite reasonable. From the museum I left to meet up with Erin in Trafalgar Square for supper. We went to a Chinese restaurant which I knew was legit because we were the only Caucasians in there. Then we went back to Erins to enjoy her birthday cake…… which means I did not tell you about going out for Erins birthday. Paul had bought her a cake with a dinosaur on the top, a very thick, solid sugar dinosaur. We ate cake, watched tv and I went home out of it, good times were had by all.

For Erin’s birthday I went out with her friends in London. Met some cool people, got in a few scraps, and spent the night on the street. Just kidding mom, Erin’s friends are pretty dull. But in all of my adventures, going out is only half the fun. I left the party people at 2:30am and began to make my way toward where I thought they told me to go, I’m still not sure if I set out the right way but anyways. After a half hour of walking… no, probably a bit longer, I found the bus which would take me home. The night buses are different routes and different schedules so I couldn’t just get back the way I came, and the trains and tube shut down at 12am or so. So I find this bus which is headed to Crystal Palace; Crystal Palace football stadium is right by my house. When the bus makes its final stop I realise I have no idea where we are as I have not noticed anything familiar along the way. I get off, because I have to, leaving the comatose chap in the front to stay at the bus corral. Mind you I did call out to him from a safe distance, not knowing who he was or what he was capable of I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wake him up, nor what he was capable of. I told the bus driver but he knew, from there I travelled on foot, in prayer, in a direction I thought made the most sense based on the bus stop map. After 5 minutes or so I am approached by a guy with a beer in his hand who is crossing over from the other side of the road. I’m a little uncomfortable about the engagement but I don’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter, and running for it does not make much sense just yet. He asks me for a smoke, which I don’t have. Then I ask him the location of Crystal Palace Football pitch, to which he replies in some middle-eastern, British accent, “Wow, it’s that way (from which I came) but you can’t get there on foot, pffff, it’s way too far.” I thank him and begin to walk, occasionally jogging. Nothing is looking familiar, and I still don’t know if I’m going the right way because I had hit a three pronged fork in the road. After 20 minutes or so I flag down a cab who as it turns out is not from the area but agrees to help me in my search. £11 later I am home as the cabbie had a pretty good idea of where to go. As the birds begin to sing at 5:30am I enjoy a bowl of Shreddies and retire for the night, safe and sound in my bed.