Mostly lemon based

Category: Canada

  • Return to planet Earth

    Okay, I’ve ceased ranting. Mostly because I realised that the learning outcomes tied into the questions way better than the ones in the pack, which made life a lot easier. It’s now finally printed and done. That’s all of them done. All of them. All the EU Packs are *done*. I just need to go down to Bath and hand them in.

    In Canada shaped news I won the auctions for some of the parts to convert my dearest beloved Rebecca to Left Hand Drive. It might be two years away, but LHD minors are pretty uncommon here and so getting the parts is quite a challenge. I’ve even won one of the incredibly rare LHD accelerator pedals. This may seem sad to you, but it’s a little step in the direction of where I want to be.

    I also won the bits to put Cherry together. Let’s hope that Cherry gets an MOT when all the bits are put on, I really could do with being able to ride to work.

  • Welcome to 1965

    Some things weren’t great about the 60s…

    Mmm, so lovely, so 60s, the kitchen of the past

    Tasteful, no?

    So I did my first house viewing today and I have to admit that I came away from it feeling… well… neutral. I didn’t love the house, and I didn’t hate it. I couldn’t see anything structurally terrible, it’s had its roof redone at some point, it had the potential for converting to a modern heating system pretty easily, but the floor layout sucked. Really sucked. And the potential for sorting out somewhere to park was small.

    And then we got into potential return; at the end of the day, whatever I did to it, a house in Barton Hill would struggle to recoup the money I put into it. I don’t want to make a huge profit (although I’m not averse to it) – I’m after somewhere to live. But I would like to get my money back.

    Obviously, having thought about it and thought about it and thought about it, I reached a stage of thinking, if it’s that hard then maybe that’s not the one for you. But I also had a bit of an epiphany. What I want is just not in my pricerange; it’s just not going to happen. So we have to reconsider ‘what I want’ and rephrase it to ‘what will be okay’.

    I’m not buying a house to be my home forever. I’m buying a house to hold me over until I can go to Canada. It doesn’t have to be perfect.

    And then I found another property, very similar ot the one I’ve just been looking at; sadly mid-terrace, not end terrace. Similar in fact, in virtually every way, except it sounds like it’s got a slightly better layout. Oh, and an outside toilet.

    It’s in a better area. If I’d’ve spotted it 20 minutes earlier I’d’ve rung and arranged a viewing; but sadly they were shut when I rang. So tomorrow, onto bigger and… well… actually largely the same size things. But hey :-)

    Hopefully I’ll feel more positive about the whole process tomorrow.

  • Oh dear god I’m tired.

    So, Friday night, I’m planning my weekend away to say goodbye to Trey – who’s heading off to climates colder and more northern – and I arrive home after my day shift to a phone call which runs thus:

    Mum: “Kate… the cistern’s leaking again…. quite a lot…. do you think you could come down and fix it…”

    The temporary repair I did a while back (because I couldn’t get the right bit) had finally given up – well, actually it’s given up because I replaced the ball-valve with the same type of ball valve instead of going with my (feminine?) instinct and deciding that the plumber had fitted the wrong kind before and changing to the type of valve I thought it should be.

    Unfortunately I’d also agreed to collect my Victorian cistern for my new house (which I have not got) from Freecycle – before I left on Saturday – and so it was on Saturday morning that I flew out of the house and round Bristol to collect a toilet cistern. Having collected it the bloke said ‘do you want the toilet too?’ – I looked, and a Victorian toilet in *staggeringly* good condition (apart from being somewhat mud filled) became mine also. Of course, this meant that my original time saving plan was somewhat destroyed – having an *entire* toilet in the car was a bit much when travelling a couple of hundred miles.

    So, I switched back, headed home (enabling me (handily) to collect my camera); unloaded the toilet and cistern and piled back in the car only to discover… a car accident.

    Then I joined the M4 Roadworks queues. I got to my mums. I fixed her toilet cistern (seeing a pattern?). I jumped in the car and (more…)

  • Future Tense

    So, I have various things impacting on my life at the moment which have the potential to cause me stress. The first and most pressing of these is my university work; this comprises a dissertation – which I should be working on right now (although I think I’ve found yet another paper – something that would bring great joy); the EU packs (because reading about maternity is enough to make you a safe midwife, and reading about kids makes you just as good as a children’s nurse. Yes.), there’s also another assigment and lots of learning outcomes; these are stressing me out less than they should.

    There’s the whole Canada thing, which is becoming markedly more stressful – as I realise just how much work I’m setting myself up for. I’m planning to move to a country which won’t recognise my qualification – so I’ll need to take the nurses board exam for wherever I end up, and depending on where I go they may not recognise my drivers licence (fracking BC) so I’d have to take my driving tests again (bike and car, and lose, presumably all my shiny big lorry privilages). Ack, ack. Stress. But that I don’t need to really consider until I’m qualified and (ideally) working because at that point I can start the application process; but right at this moment – everything I read might change before then – so I should really stop trying to research it. I was trying to be prepared, but instead I think it’s probably better to concentrate on other things. Of course, that doesn’t stop the desire to find out what I’m trying to let myself in for appearing.

    But the final thing that’s stressing me out is home. (more…)

  • Rats Arses

    So, I had this thought. “Wasn’t it the British Colombia Provincial Nominee Programme” as opposed to a whole Canadian ‘get us more nurses we’re fraking desparate programme’.

    Having had a very quick look this morning (I am still not in the greatest mood after yesterday) I’ve found that… well, I’ll have to go through the skilled worker to go to Toronto. It’s one of these frustrating ‘6 of one half a dozen of the other’ situations.

    Toronto’s definately easier post-emmigrating, and I’ve been kind of settling on it as being where to concentrate my energy (and where I was going to go on holiday); but it looks like Vancouver / BC might be easier for me to *get* to. Gaaah. I guess I need to look at the ‘Skilled Worker’ programme a little more carefully again. I did look and reckoned that with 2 years experience it’d be easy for me to get. I didn’t notice that you also get points (I think, quick look today) for jobs you’ve done within the last ten years. That would help my score upwards too.

    Feeeeh. I do, I have a fetish for paperwork.

  • Believe

    In 5 months time, assuming that I complete the process of writing things, I will no longer be a student nurse.

    I will be a qualified – in the process of registering – nurse. It’s scary. But that, combined with this post has reminded me that I should be pondering my future. Having discovered that the United Kingdom (of Great Britain, Northern Ireland and other Sundry But Important Countries) is going to be my home for the next 2 years – whatever I might think or want – and so I should be planning more enthusiastically for the while I’m here.

    Whilst I kind of feel like my life is ‘on hold’ it’s not really; because there’s huge amounts of preparation for a move that will potentially extract me from my support networks, place me in a completely unfamiliar environment and present me with an opportunity to work somewhere entirely different.

    And really, my life is only on hold in the ‘relationship’ sense. I’m actively not looking for a relationship. It’s hard; actually; I’m not used to being on my own. I don’t like it. I’m lonely, to be blunt. I miss the companionship (and quite bluntly, the sex) of a relationship with someone you love who loves you. But I don’t want to get myself into a relationship when I really do want to leave this country.

    So, ignoring that, there’s 2 years. Two solid years. I suspected, and the post kinda confirms what I thought; that Lauren’ll probably end up moving over to live with Chrissy. So I shall be seeking a house of my own. Which is very weird. Do you feel the weird? I’ve never lived alone. This is the closest to alone I’ve ever lived – I’m starting to get the hang of it a bit. The idea of living on my own doesn’t fill me with fear the way it did. Like someone quitting smoking, I’ve cut down on my living with someone; I went from being in a couple to single living with two people. Then single living with one person. Now I’m single, living with one person who’s away a lot.

    The thing I find oddest is ‘not talking’. I talk a lot. I talk to myself a lot – even at work – moreso at work – I think aloud, don’t ask me why, I just do. So the fact I’ve not spoken since 6:30ish? When Nikki left? Oh, I answered the phone… Yeah. That’s weird to me.

    And it feels weird too.

    Also, because of the shift work / working a random set of the 7 days in the week, I loose track of the actual day. I’m only loosely aware of the Tuesdayness of today. Anyway, I guess this is really a waffly thought to myself. I may plan to move to Canada in 2 years, but I shouldn’t forget that I’ve got to live here for those two years. I need to make firmer plans.

  • Freezing bloody cold

    This house. Gah. I know, the heating isn’t set to come on ’til 5 (remembers this, runs out, sticks heating on), so the house is bloody cold when I get home from work. I’m wary of changing it, because basically, if I changed it to come on before I came home every day, and to be on until near when I leave it’d be on all day (which is actually what I did in one house).

    So it was bloody freezing when I got home.
    The new heater’s been put into service already, this morning it made the bathroom bearable while I got up and now it’s heating this room while the inadequate house heating attempts to pull the temperature up.

    Anyway, so I’m in a bit of a foul mood because as I was walking to my car leaving work I saw someone driving off – and as they did so my car lurched backwards. They’d used the ‘drive until you hit someone’ method of parking. Now I’ve nudged cars when parking before but I’ll always stop and check that I’ve not done any damage but this wo/man drove off. I can’t see any in my quick scan – the chromework just having some black paint on it from her car which wiped off (on my finger…); but people looked a bit shocked as I yelled “OI!” and ran. Didn’t catch him/her plate though (I did the shouty runny thing before checking my car).

    Anyway, that put me in a ranty mood. And I’ve come home to what I thought; a confirmation that I’ll have to be in the UK for 2 years at least post qualifying if I want to go over and work in the Emergency Dept (which I do) – and for even more negativity ‘we don’t get much work in Canada for ED nurses’ – although apparently there’s more work in BC. But really, for the sake of simplicity I’d prefer Toronto / Ontario – it’d just save a ton of effort on my part (and anything that reduces the complexity of moving continent is good).

    I’ve got a response back from UHN as well, but it’s just a “we’ll pass it on” at the moment. Meh. I need some good Canada news now. Having my life on hold for two more years (at least, post qualifying (in 5 months time)) doesn’t seem wildly fun to me, I’ll do it, but I’d rather bypass it somehow.

  • There’s no place that’s home

    It’s bloody cold here this morning. It’s probably not that cold, but sat around in my big teeshirt and socks I’m fracking freezing. The wet hair probably doesn’t help

    If you’re wondering about the whole ‘fracking’ thing, it’s a BSGism and it’s because I’ve noticed that Europeans, or more specifically the British and the Irish swear a hell of a lot more than Candians and Americans. For example. Had I written that sentance the way I first thought of it it’d’ve been: “swear a fuck load more than…”

    When I visited Ireland all those happy years ago (3…) I thought “bloody hell” – and my ‘Irish’ accent is largely based around me dropping in about 60% more instances of the word “fuck”. Apparently it sounds like TV-Northern Irish. Anyway, I guess that’s how I must sound to Canadians…
    Anyway, so, in an effort to make myself more polite I’m trying to drop the swearing. Thing is, I don’t swear at work, I’m really shocked when nurses swear – there’s this really nice Spanish nurse at work who learned English in the North of England, and her choice of words is rather more colourful than you’d maybe expect… Which is quite entertaining.

    Yeah. So. It’s funny, I’ve felt this before and it’s usually a transient thing, but I’m kind of feeling it again; the whole not feeling at home anywhere. I mean, it’s my home, this is my house, some of my friends are here in Bristol. But I kind of mentally disconnected myself from the place when I decided I wanted to move to Canada. It’s bizzare. Bristol’s now just the place I live. Like my mum’s house, it’s a place I stay. Which has the unfortunate side effect of no-where feeling like home. I’ve ensnared myself in my own mental trap.

    Not so clever after all :-p

    Anyhow, that’s been bugging me, I’m treading water waiting for the time when I don’t have to wait for the time. Which is made more frustrating by discovering that the recruitment agents and the hospitals in Canada want 2 years post-qualifying experience in your chosen field before considering you for work. This is agonisingly painful. I now feel like I’ve hit the pause button on my life and can’t press play. The idea of staying here for 2 years after qualifying instead of 1.5 from now, well, it’s kind of depressing really. On the other hand it’s probably a more ‘reasonable’ timescale for me to raise the money and so on – so the sensible part of me is going “well, I guess it isn’t so bad. It’s only 6 months”; and the impatient impulsive bit of me is being driven nuts by it.

    I’m still stuck listening to Desi on the Streets of Calcutta, incidentally.

    Anyway, other stuff, namely Northern Exposure. I’ve finished season one of Northern Exposure off; the disks managing to last a week of viewing only with emmense effort on my part. I’d never seen Season one before, it’s (obviously) no where as developed as the later series, the characters seem rather two dimensional – and lack depth… Sometimes it feels like not only do you not know their backstory but that they don’t really have one. On the other hand, there are sparks of what the series was to become – and there’s some really good episodes hidden in this first series.

    That – and the first episode when Joel is sent to Cicely is just hilarious. It’s the final epsiode of the series which really grabbed me though; the characters have started to get that rich depth that was so much a hallmark of the series and that episode – it grabbed me and sucked me in completely. I could watch it again right now. Highs and lows, humour and pain; all the things I loved about Northern Exposure.

    One thing though; the DVDs are absolute shit. Complete and total pathetic crap. For the first time in my life I’ve submitted an Amazon review because it’s beyond poor. The quality of the video is fine, that I don’t really have any complaints about; in fact, I thought that the quality was suprisingly good. No. It’s the fact they’ve not even bothered to put chapter markers in it. No chapter markers at all. So you can’t stop an episode and come back to it without having to fast-forward through it video style. In fact, it’s worse than video because video you could stop and come back to, but not the Northern Exposure disks.

    I don’t mind not having extras. I don’t actually care about that, they’re nice but I didn’t really expect much from a series shot in 1990, even not having scene selection – I don’t care. But no chapters at all? What kind of crap is that? They want 26 quid for the third DVD in the set, and it better bloody have chapter markers.

    And in other news I’ve caught up on The L Word (spoilers (short)). (more…)

  • Surely you can’t be serious…

    Sharey sharey.
    More sharey sharey

    So, yes, ignore my post last night. It turns out to have been a misunderstanding if you read it. Yeah. But huge thanks to Rochelle, Dave and Alexa who made me feel way better; lots of talking anyway. Did me good, probably, in the long run.

    I had a lie in today. I shouldn’t have, I now have a cracking headache – as usual – but I did get enough sleep, which is good news. I also managed to produce something actually musical – actually akin to a tune from my guitar. I’ve had so little time to practice recently. Or more accurately, been so tired that practicing’s not been top priority. Or bottom priority. In fact, in general it’s fallen off my priority list. But last night I spent 45 minutes twanging out chord progressions. I’m now trying to learn what notes I’m hitting to make the chords too.

    Yeah.

    So, that rocked.

    Anyway, I’ve been looking at ‘things to take to Canada’; essentially I’ve started to be *lots* more critical about things I was going to take. It dawned on me that my furniture – apart from my bed, dining chairs (and table if I finish it) and the green made-by-my-dad bookcase – can all be flogged off over here. It’s not worth much I shouldn’t think, but hey; why take it. I’ve got no particular attachment to any of it – except the tall-boy and draws; but even they… well, I’d’ve moved them onto garage service as soon as I could replace them with something I want probably.

    It frees me to do what I want with my bedroom.

    In fact let’s see what we’re thinking of not taking:

    – All my furniture, bar as I say my bed (flat-packs anyway); my dining chairs, my dining table and 1 small bookcase.
    – My Hi-Fi amp. There’s just no point. Hopefully I can find it a new home.
    – Record decks (2x)
    – Tape deck, hi-fi tuner. Actually, basically my entire HiFi.
    – The CED player.
    – The Laserdisk.
    – The TV. Depends on whether I can afford a new equivalent (32″ Widescreen / FST) in Canada – my issue is I need a PAL capable set; I noticed that US DVD players weren’t so hot on playing PAL disks; and since the majority of my collection is PAL – well. I may need to take the TV with me. Yes. That’s something else I need to do research on. (Availability of Region Free DVD players in Canada, cost, and whether they output PAL as NTSC… *shudders*). [quick looksie] Terrifyingly, it might actually be cheaper to ship my TV set to Canada than to replace it.
    – A lot of my old IT Books
    – Most of my older computing stuff. The BBC Micros, etc. Hopefully the RiscPC will hack 110v, but it’s currently under a huge pile of books and CDs *yeah, I use it loads* so I can’t check.

    Annoyingly a lot of my power-supplied stuff can come, but is going to need new power supplies, because the UK version is 240v only. How hard is it to build a universal powersupply? Geeze guys.

    I guess I own a lot of crap. Most of it’s got to go. I’m starting to plan the sheer quantity of e-bay-age. Technically, my PC’s probably not worth shipping – the monitor probably is, but – well – I probably will rather than piss about trying to buy a new one in a country I don’t know, and before I’ve…got…internet… Oh god. No. Being without internet. *shudders*

    I guess occasionally the huge overwhelmingness of the thing, well, it pounces on me and goes ‘what the fuck are you doing?! Are you insane?!’; but it’s something I want to do, and I learned long ago I can do what I want when I set my heart on it.

    It’s weird though, I think everone I’ve known who’s moved country has done it to be with someone; except my mum actually; and here I am doing the same thing. It’s a bit… something or other. But I’m doing it for me. I’m doing it because I want to. And yes, that is a good thing, if you ask me.

    Of course, it means I’ve got no-one to blame for disasterhood except myself.

  • Turning out to be…

    …one of those hard days. A day when I just feel vaguely and unplaceably less happy than I should / think I should / y’know? There’s no reason for me to be down.

    It’s probably a sign of why I want to go in for councelling – I’d stopped having days like this so much – and now they’ve started again, I don’t like it. I’m not sure why I have days like today. Anyway, there’s a couple of newsworthy things; I’m not sharing with the entire world at large, because I’m selfish.

    Apparently, the Emergency Dept at the hospital I did my Emergency Dept / High Care placement at have arranged it that individuals from our cohort, who were so damn good (did you see my head swell then?), can go back and work in A&E directly after we qualify. This is very good news, so long as I actually qualify. Which I will, I know, but it’s still a bit scary the quantity of work that’s waiting for me.

    I should be working now. Natasha, who I’m on placement with, seems to be way more on top of her work; it’s quite scary. Still. There’s this week ahead of me when I’ve got to… do a *lot*. But, fuck, it’s scary.

    Anyway, ignoring that. It’s good news. (more…)