Category Archives: everyday kimli

one week

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I’ve now been in London for a full week, with a great deal of time still to go. It does feel like I’ve been here for quite a while, but that’s likely because I am enjoying a ridiculous life of leisure and walking. Time behaves differently when you have no responsibilities.

I’ve set a goal for myself to do at least one new thing a day the entire time I’m here. The magnitude of the new thing has no rules, so it could be something as simple as ordering a small Diet Coke instead of one the size of my head – it’s the act of something new, not the quality. That being said, I’ve done a great number of things in the week I’ve been here, and even learned a few Life Lessons along the way:

  • It’s okay to be lonely. Truthfully, my first few days here were kind of rough – I was seriously doubting my ability to be on my own/away from home for 25 days. Even now, when I’m thoroughly enjoying myself and am in full-on vacation mode, I get a little lonely when I see couples or groups of friends being all togethery. Pretty sure that’s less a personal failing and more a sign of my humanity (which is good because frankly I was getting a little worried).
  • Don’t take pictures of a fox in a cemetery, or an old lady ghost will yell at you
  • When you’re standing at the end of a tube car to get some air, it is pretty fucking terrifying when the door that separates the two cars decides to open and swing past you mid-station
  • 5am is terribly early, no matter the time zone
  • Egg holders make decent ice cube trays in a pinch
  • European laundry is hilarious. I get the whole “energy efficient” thing and being green is cool but it literally takes 210 minutes for one wash cycle, and another day to air-dry things.

I had more Important Life Lessons to share, but I have to catch a bus to Stonehenge so they will have to wait. I need to do laundry later, so I should be able to write a novel in the time it takes my delicates to be thoroughly cleansed of all my sins.

Slightly westward ho!

sophisticated musings

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Random thoughts while wandering around Covent Gardens:

  • There are SO MANY SHEEP
  • The UK doesn’t use a dollar; everything is in pounds. It only makes sense, then, that all dollar stores are pound stores – which makes everything HILARIOUS. Poundland! Poundworld! Poundorama! Heeeeeheheheeh
  • I need more tassels and a cigarette if I want to pass as a local
  • My feet hurt
  • My inability to determine my left from right is really fucking with me
  • Primark is the devil (who sells excellent socks)
  • I am not eating nearly enough for the amount of walking I’m doing
  • Never stop to calculate the exchange. You will be much happier living in blissful ignorance.

It took a couple of days, but I think I’m finally back on track. My sleep brain wouldn’t get out of nap mode, so I couldn’t sleep for more than 3-4 hours at a time. That is not enough sleep unless it is Tuesday at 7pm, and while I have no idea what day it is anymore, I am fairly certain is not that. Last night I managed to sleep for a very very long time with only a brief period of consciousness in the middle, so I’m hoping that managed to reset things. Regardless, today is Take it Easy Day – I slept in, I’m doing some laundry, I’ve eaten some damn luxurious yogurt, and I will likely head out to wander London in the early evening.

Not having any kind of agenda is kind of liberating, as well as slightly anxiety-inducing. I keep forgetting that I have a very long time here, and I don’t need to do everything all at once – I can return to places if I wish, and I don’t need to buy all the things immediately. Still, it’s my natural inclination to feel guilt when I am not doing All the Things, which leads to overdoing (like yesterday, when I was unintentionally out until 11pm and wondering why I felt so bloody awful when I hadn’t eaten for like 7 hours of walking).

I have not yet been down to the waterfront, which is why there haven’t been approximately 1000 photos of Large Benjamin and his assorted stately pals. This could also be why it doesn’t *really* feel like I’m in London yet – I haven’t been by any of the iconic London things. Soon, though. Perhaps even tonight. This luxurious yogurt is making me want to explore.

chaos

shoreditch chaos

more awake = more words

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I can’t sleep, so it must be time to write. I did manage to take 2.5 epic naps though, so I’m almost caught up – it’s actually 6:30 in the morning, which is a normal time for people to be awake (or so I hear). I could try to ignore my loud insistent hunger and try to get some more sleep, but I’m confident that it’d be a futile effort. Instead, you get words. How nice for you!

I’ve discovered that an important part of traveling long distances is having an adult with me so they can handle all the complicated things everything. I do not function well when I am tired and I cannot sleep if I am not comfortable, so sleeping on the plane is out of the question. This ends up in an exhausted Kimli trying to make logical brain statements to border guards, and them not really believing her because she sounds really stupid. That might work in my favour, though – clearly I am too stupid to be trying to pull wool over eyes.

There were a bazillion people at the border, and it was very very warm. I was sweaty and plane gross by the time I made it up to the booth, where I encountered a guard who was highly suspicious of me. There were a lot of questions, and I could see him trying to find holes in my story (which was less a story than the literal truth):

  • He didn’t believe that I was here just to do “touristy things”, saying “Didn’t you do enough ‘touristy things’ during your last trip here?” Dude, there is a famous quote that says “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life” – which is basically my reason for being here. Yes, I am going to do “touristy things”. You live in a neat place, you see.
  • There were a lot of questions about where I’m staying. One of my coworkers has family in London, and they own a row house with several units in it, two of which do not have tenants. He and his dad were generous enough to let me stay here for a ridiculous price, for which I am super grateful. The border guard thought that was weird – weird enough to ask me if we were “more than friends”, because apparently in his world people aren’t awesome. That makes me sad. :(
  • Then came the questions about what I do for a living. I have these questions myself, so it was difficult to get my point across on no sleep. “I’m a tech writer. I manage things, like servers and apps. Sometimes I edit words, and JIRA is involved somehow, and I copywrite and audit things.” Basically, I’m a tech writer who doesn’t tech write very often but still has the title because it’s better than “no one is really sure but she’s pretty vital”.
  • I forgot how to spell the company’s name.
  • He asked to see my return ticket home. I opened the Expedia app which showed that I have a whole bunch of upcoming trips that go to and from Vancouver, which should have been a good sign that I am leaving when I say I am. He scowled at the app, so I brought up the receipt for my ticket which had my itinerary. It took a while to find, because I purchased the ticket in May. This was also cause for confusion – my god, has he never encountered anyone who plans the shit out of their trips months in advance?! I should have shown him all the lists I have of things I want to do and places I want to go. It’d have blown his mind.
  • There was a conversation about how I get paid – which currency, and which bank. This may have been the final piece of information that allowed me into the country, because no one who earns Canadian dollars can afford to start a new life abroad.

Marginally satisfied that I was not planning to stay in the UK forever having illicit affairs with my coworker and/or take anyone’s job, I was allowed in.

I eventually made it to the flat, got all wi-fi’d, UK SIM’d up, and collapsed in a heap. I’m presently listening to 17 clocks and some rain, wondering if I could stomach the tomato juice I didn’t drink on the plane, and wishing that Pret delivered. Today I am going to explore the neighbourhood, get some groceries so I don’t have to have corn nuts at 4am, and settle into my temporary European life. I am a happy Kimli.

plane postin’

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Four hours into this flight and the only thing missing is a diversion to another airport. I’m not really complaining though; someone’s having a medical emergency. People are milling about, there was an announcement inquiring about a medical doctor onboard (I took out my earphones in case someone needs a technical writer), and now there’s turbulence. Add in the two.5 hour delay and a plane switch because of leaky things, and you’ve got yourself an adventure! A long, tiring adventure!

In the grand scheme of things, none of the incidents to date are all that bad. In fact, the biggest annoyance about the whole flight so far is that the media on this jet is different than the last. While they were doing pre-takeoff plane things, I watched the first quarter of Inside Out. The plan was to finish that, then re-watch Pitch Perfect 2, and when I inevitably failed to sleep, give in and watch Mad Max: Maximum Mad. Unfortunately, they discovered the plane had a leak that couldn’t be fixed, so everyone had to disembark and re-wait while they prepped a new, non-leaky plane that also happened to have an outdated media list.

I was somewhat annoyed that I couldn’t finish watching Inside Out (or access an Internet to read a spoiler), but I did get to watch Big Hero 6 and Avengers: Age of James Spader. I had missed seeing them when they were in theatres (I am almost as bad at movies as I am at TV), so I was glad to see them in mighty Seat Back Vision. Still can’t sleep, though. Maybe I’ll watch Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2.

Next up: the border crossing guard who didn’t believe I’m here solely because I like London, allegations of naughty business, and glorious sleep.

0 DAYS LEFT

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IT’S ADVENTURE TIME!

200

I leave in 5 hours. EXCITE!

This’ll be my first trip to the UK wearing pants. After six 9+ hour flights, I finally realized that it’s good to be comfortable on the plane and that generally means not worrying about your various lady parts falling out of whatever ridiculous getup you decided to wear to fly. I’m wearing jeans on the plane, then crumpling them up in the bottom of my bag for the remainder of my trip because I did not pack any shirts. The pants won’t be worn again unless a) I want to be arrested for indecent exposure, b) hypothermia sets in and Mountain Madness takes over, or c) 1996 calls and says “you should totally wear those jeans under a dress, it’ll look great”. My money’s on c).

I tried really hard this time ’round to pack only necessities. I didn’t go overboard when packing clothing, and almost everything I brought can be worn with each other. My one space splurge (not to be confused with a splurge in space, which will likely happen Sunday) was bringing two pairs of boots, because sometimes you want black boots but many other times you want burgundy boots and it’s best to be prepared for both situations.

That being said, I am a creature of ridiculous habits. The following things are in my suitcase that, were I to be honest with myself, could *probably* be left behind:

  • Several of the 9 or so iPhone charging cables I’ve brought
  • Nobody really needs that much lip gloss
  • The push-up bra that takes up half the space in my underpants bag
  • There’s a handful of Lego minifigs in my backpack, because I am an excellent adult
  • Sex wipes. Why are these in my bag? Why didn’t I take them out? I’m not going to America (where they are good at the sex) and have no plans whatsoever to hump anyone on this trip. Still, I better hang onto them. Just in case. You Never Know <tm Mom>.

.. that’s actually about it. I packed very wisely, and have room leftover for whatever I may purchase while gone. I even have room for a cape, but I will not bring it (even though I can think of at least a dozen reasons I might need a cape in London).

This time tomorrow I will be in the future! See you from there!

lucky thirteen

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Thirteen years ago today I got all dressed up in white and my dad walked me around a giant pumpkin and on the other side was my best friend. There were some words, “good game” was said, and then we had a party with people we loved. It was pretty cool.

Hey Ed, I love you and stuff. You are still my best friend – in fact, you get bester every year – and I think you are super rad. I can’t wait to see where the future takes us, and there’s no one I’d rather experience it with.

Not even Optimus Prime (so you KNOW I’m serious).

look how fancy we are

look how fancy we are

Happy anniversary, Ed.

return of the quake cake

return of the quake cake

ready, set

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T minus 3 sleeps until GO.

My excitement and trepidation are nearing unbearable levels. I am mentally and physically ready for a vacation (I forgot my laptop at home two days in a row last week), and although I will desperately miss Ed and the cats (this will be the most time we’ve been apart – I think the longest to date has been 6 days), I’m looking forward to this time of quiet reflection all the goddamn adventure I can cram into 25 days.

I have a big list of things I want to do, but beyond the list I’m looking forward to:

  • ADVENTURE!!
  • Being on my own schedule. If I wanna sleep in, I can. If I wanna spend 3 hours in the V&A garden, I can. If I wanna go to a spooky-ass cemetery and walk amongst the dead, I can (and totally will).
  • No helmet hair for almost a month.  I love my scooter, but goddamn I’ve had some wicked helmet hair recently.
  • Eating all my meals at M&S
  • M&S in general
  • Pretending I’m a wealthy lady of leisure; an International Kimli of Mystery
  • Angry shoulder dancing
  • Asking for a large Diet Coke and getting a North American medium
  • Finding out the deal with Stonehenge
  • Pret.
  • Sharing my adventures both here and on Instagram #shamelessplug #unitedkimdom

Just .. all of it, really. I’m even looking forward to the 9+ hour flight, which is a sure sign of ocean madness (aka “Aqua Dementia”, the deep down crazies, the wet willies, the Great Moist). I’m hoping this trip will kickstart my heart my desire to write again, but even if it doesn’t, I won’t be beating myself up over it. No agenda. Just good times.

I am grateful for this extremely lazy caturday, but I can’t help but wish Sony picked any other time to do maintenance on their servers – I have to get enough underpants video game time to last me for a whole month.

LET'S DO THIS

LET’S DO THIS

move aside, batman

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I don’t feel like this very often, which is a good thing because it really hurts when I stop to think about it:

I miss my family.

But that’s not true. I miss the family I never had – I miss the fantasy of family; the happily dysfunctional group of people who have wacky misunderstandings and arguments, but at the end of the day are a loving unit again over a laugh track and credits. The mom slash best friend you can tell anything. The dad who would drop everything to help you, cracking dad jokes the whole time. Siblings who torment each other, but are supportive when no one is looking. The big silly dog, because there’s always a dog. Extended family members who make guest appearances and resolve problems within a 22-minute window (24 minutes, if it’s sweeps week).

On September 18th, it’ll be 10 years since my dad died. I miss him. Today, however, I miss his side of the family even more. I have a half brother and half sister I haven’t seen or talked to in ten years – literally, because after dad died, my mother and I were dropped like uninvited potatoes. They resented my mother for stuff they didn’t understand, I never really fit in with my family when dad was still alive, and we’re all the way over here on the west coast. It’s just easier this way. I know that, because 99% of the time I feel the same way: family is complicated and annoying and I am selfish with my time. No one asks me to babysit or go to boring dinners or buy presents for kids I don’t know. My life is super sweet, really. I wouldn’t change it for anything.

.. but every once in a while, the enormity of what I’m missing and the realization of how broken I really am comes crashing in on me like a wave, and I am devastated at my lack. Today is that day, apparently. I know what triggered it, I know exactly why I feel like I do, I know my exclusion in their lives is as much my fault for not trying as it is theirs for shutting the door. What I don’t know is how – if at all possible, if I’ll even want to when this passes – to fix it.

All this being said, I slept two nights in a row without getting up to vomit. So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.

batman

smell ya later, summer

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I was dismayed to discover that $1 drink days at McDonald’s is officially done for the year, meaning that summer has in fact come to an end. I am in mourning – not so much for summer, but for $1 Diet Coke. That is an excellent price for Diet Coke, and it comes in such delightfully large cups. Goodbye, Summer 2015. I won’t miss your smoky air, excessive heat, or clothing worn for comfort over style.

BRING ON THE FALL!

I’ve never pumpkin spiced anything, but man oh man do I love fall.

As of this writing, I am officially 12 days away from my trip, which is both forever and not nearly enough time. I finally caved to the siren song of packing, and I’ve been 98% ready to go since Monday. All that remains to be packed are things I am currently using: medication, moisturizer, makeup, money, macbook, mariachi band, marsupials, mayonnaise, Monk. Every other letter of the alphabet is all packed up neatly in my suitcase, and I am ready to go.

I’ve got the pre-travel willies, though – the kind where I envision all sorts of terrible things happening and/or get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff I want to do. When this happens, I start to have second thoughts about traveling: sure, I COULD go to Europe and have Adventures and whisper secrets into foreign winds and the like, but I could also sit at home on my couch and watch reruns of Bob’s Burgers. While the latter is always tempting, I know the former is going to be amazing. At least, I hope. It’s my first solo trip, after all. I can’t even imagine the sort of ridiculous trouble I could find myself in because Kimli.

Excited. And sure hoping my cough-barf-at-3am goes away before I leave.

conversations with my mother

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“So I just tell her your number and she can mail you?”

“Yes, just give her my email address exactly as I’ve told you. You have to spell it exactly like that, or it won’t work.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“kimli at deeay dot com” (note: this is the shortest “email number” I’ve got)

“k .. i .. m .. ad?”

“No, it’s Kimli – k-i-m-l-i AT, a-t”

“Okay, k-i-m-l-i at ..”

“deeay dot com. That’s d-e-e-a-y ..”

“d .. e .. a ..”

“No, two Es – d-e-e-a-y”

“d .. e .. e .. a .. y ..”

“Dot com”

“d .. o .. t ..”

“No, just a dot. Like a period.”

“dot .. con. c-o-n?”

“No, mom. dot c-o-m.”

“Okay, it’s kim dot d com?”

“No, mom. Let’s start again.”

Eventually she was able to repeat it back to me somewhat properly. I am not expecting her cousin to ever actually email me.

Also, at this point, I think my mother might be a Master Troll and has been playing me all along.