On things I will not miss about Kingston

I am now in self-defensive denial mode about moving, and I think that a nice bulleted list of reasons why I will NOT be sad to see Kingston recede like so much hair on a grad student will help me feel better right now.

1. There are two hospitals in the downtown core. I live across from a fire station at the moment. It is impossible to get far enough from the hospitals/fire station to be out of audio range without being in range of catcalls from the crack addicts, so I've always lived practically on an ambulance route. Clearly, living FAR away from hospitals AND crack addicts is the way to go.
   
2. I also live across from an elementary school at the moment (if this weren't student ghetto central, it'd probably be a great family neighbourhood). In the school year, buses idle under my window from 8am - 8:45am, then again from 2 - 2:45pm. In the summer, a karate class uses the gym. They scream. A lot. It is very discordant. It hurts my well-trained ears.
   
3. I live less than a block from the most expensive convenience store on the planet, aka A&P (or the Anus and Phallus, for what it does to my food budget). They are open 24 hours a day, which means that I can often be found drunkenly wandering the aisles and comparison shopping meat sticks on a Friday night. I like to think that there will only be clean, high quality grocery stores with sensible opening hours in my neighbourhood in Sheffield.
4. I also presently live at a corner with stoplights at it. Why are the only people with their car windows open and the music cranked playing such awful shit? Clearly, it will rain so much in England that my windows will be shut most of the time, and I won't have to hear people's lousy music. Furthermore, roundabouts are much more common than stoplights, which means cars will pass by very quickly.
5. With any luck, American tourists will not expect me to take their cash at some ridiculous exchange rate in the UK, they'll have exchanged their damn money. The number of people who come to Kingston without any Canadian funds is astonishing -you'd think that US dollars were the standing currency everywhere in North America from the way I've been treated at the counter at work.
6. In the UK, I will be an exotic 'foreigner' with an accent, not one of those - the elite immigrant class in Kingston, the Queen's Student, who will piss on your lawn, set fire to your car, and then leave your city without creating a ripple in the economy! (I think town-gown relations at this school are a joke.)
7. Speaking of pissing on the lawn, it is my fond wish to live in a neighbourhood that is far enough from the local nightclub to avoid that problem. With any luck, the only people pissing on the lawn will be the seven or eight cats I intend to adopt. Of course, this might put a damper on parties like we hosted here Friday night...more about that another time, when I'm not hating on the human race.
   

Boxes are eating my feet!

So I like to think that if I really 'put my mind to it' I could pack myself for any sort of move in under 48 hours. Also, I believe that I if I think happy enough thoughts, I will be able to fly and leap tall buildings in a single bound. But I have actually started the final packing process now. As much stuff as I got rid of when moving out of my old place into this sublet (300lbs at the waste transfer station, 6 bags of clothing and linens to a church...), I still have a lot of stuff left...and now is the final winnowing through. I'm having a 'garage' sale on Friday, before (during...people are weak when they're drinking!) the Bon VoyBirthday Party which Shavaun and I are jointly hosting, so I've been separating into 'sell' and 'keep' bins...and packing a third bin as I come across things which I can definitely pack with confidence. The only things actually in the 'definitely can be shipped on the boat and don't need to come with me immediately' bin (in an orderly fashion) at the moment, though, are about 80 of my books...I feel like I still need to do more 'sorting'! Total volume of 'keep' has already decreased by about 25%, which will be great for my shipping bill!
Other than the battle of the stuff (please, please don't tell me to just buy new things there...I've heard that advice enough times to frustrate even the most patient of people! Not only is everything except liquor and milk heinously expensive in the UK - not my mention my loss on the dollar for the first few weeks, til I'm earning in £ - I've never been a minimalist, and I don't especially feel like attempting a total shift in attitude while also shifting geography and culture! This move is permanent, as in I will be there for at least 5-7 years if all goes well, and it's my dam money that I'm spending on shipping!). Well...that sort of slipped out. I've been irked by well-intentioned advice since day one of this move, and it continues to bother me a lot. The best advice I've heard so far? "Don't get joint credit cards. Trust me." That, friends, is what I call sound advice. Packing your life into boxes is a very, very personal event, and requires something different from every person who attempts it. I have met people who can put everything they need and want into a 90 liter backpack and happily traipse the world, and other people who are much more like myself, and people in between, who are content to have a dozen boxes to call their own. The process of going through everything that I own and shedding a lot of junk has been freeing, and really is helping me realize what possessions are most important to me, but I never expected it to turn me into a perfectly zen minimalist with only a journal and a water bottle to keep me company. I know that psychologists have a great time dissecting people's attitudes toward "Stuff", and I am certain that an expert could have a field day with my covetousness, my desire to collect 'things' (especially writing things...oh how I love stationary and writing utensils!). I am getting to a point, now, in the battle of the 'stuff' where it no longer rules me, and I am content with the material possessions in my life. I'm sure, though, that I'll always have magpie-like tendencies, (and I kind of like it that way).
Ok, I am all done with being defensive. Be patient with me (and don't offer any 'zen' advice, for the love of all that is holy!), I'm sure I'll stop being so sensitive once John and I have settled into a home of our own (oh, didn't I mention that? still no flat or terrace or cardboard box to call our own! John has appointments all this week(end) and next, so please send some good vibes our way...we've had some great-looking places snatched out from under our noses, and we could really use a bit of good housing karma so that my flight won't have to be postponed!)

In which my little brother is not quite so little any more

Should I have stopped calling my younger brothers "little" when they could pick me up, when I had to start craning my neck to make eye contact, or can I still get away with "I'm your older sister, so obviously I know better!"? This post is to wish my 'little' bro Conrad a very happy 21st Birthday! He's had some big decisions going on in his life lately, and now what with being legal everywhere on the continent, I think he's going to be a busy, busy man in the coming year.

(sorry ladies...he is very, very taken, and I happen to like Sarah quite a lot)

The times, they are a changin'...

Changing faster than I can keep up right now, and I'm the one instigating most of the changes! I am not moving out of my sublet (the monetary gain is not greater than potential emotional loss - packing myself up three times in as many weeks is stressing me out far more than a couple hundred dollars at this point), and, uh...actually, that's the only thing that's changed since yesterday.
John purchased my plane ticket today, so happy 25th birthday to him! I suppose he does get as much out of it as I do :D
I've been struggling with conflicting attitudes about this move - I alternate between being overjoyed that I am taking steps to do something major and life-changing (goodness knows it's been a while since I really shook things up), and wanting to throw up. Mostly I get overwhelmed at the thought of packing up my possessions, like, what if I give away this set of books and then decide in six months that I really wanted those trade paperbacks that I bought second-hand and read once? And this paper, it's so cool, I don't want to leave that behind! And this chili-pepper tin that I keep my pens in, I've had that since high school! I am shamelessly attached to my 'stuff', and that is what has been creating a lot of emotional turmoil for me thus far. I'm also very attached to my family and the group of friends I've made at Queen's, but thus far I am in denial about being several time zones away from them. At this point, I'm more concerned about whether I should take my watercolour pencils with me, or sell them ;)

27 days and counting

Testing...testing...is this thing on?
Welcome to my first post on what will hopefully turn into a chronicle of my experiences as I pack up my life in Kingston and head for the green hills of Sheffield, England. I've got a current passport, my travel visa, a plane ticket (as of tomorrow), waaaaaay too much stuff, no place to live once I get there, and negative money, but I'm going!
At the moment I'm trying to save some money by moving out of my summer sublet and onto someone's couch for the next two weeks, to be followed by living in a tent at my parents' house for a week, and then hopefully arriving to a home of some sort in Sheffield. The housing market there seems to have dried up (that's because terrible other people have taken all of the good places to live out from under John's nose!), so John is doing his best to find us a home.
Ahhhh, John. If you're catching up with my life via this blog, here's the short story (the long one to be posted in the future, maybe?). We've known each other online since late 2000; we met in person for the first time in Feb 2006, and started 'dating' then. Now that I'm finally finished my B.Mus at Queen's (though there is something to be said for taking the 'scenic route' through undergrad), I am going to move to the UK and work while John goes back to school, first to upgrade his A-levels, then to Uni for engineering of some sort in 2008. I'm going on a UK Ancestry visa (my Nanny is from N.Ireland) so I'll have unrestricted entry/exit (can we say, Europe is just a long swim away?), unrestricted work, access to health care, and voting rights. No, I won't be living in London, not even close in fact. Sheffield is great though, and I've really enjoyed my visits, so hopefully it's as nice to live in as John makes out!