Wednesday, 8 June 2016

London Calling

London Calling
One Girl's Need For Some Serious Change

I am all for new beginnings. You know, clean slate and all that. A fresh start opens you up to an endless new array of possibilities and opportunities. It's also a chance to kick those proverbial "what ifs" in the arse. God I hate those sodded what ifs, it's just another way of defining regret and regret implies that something is currently holding you back. Seeing as I hate commitment and anything holding me to a place/idea/lifestyle is commitment in its finest, I despise such a notion. So let's raise a glass (preferably alcoholic but you do you) and cheers to New Beginnings and other fruity, magical crap like that.

Now that I've practically outed myself as a certified commitment-a-phobe, I feel like I need to elaborate a bit more on the concept as it plays a huge factor in my need for a fresh start. It goes a bit further than my hatred for staying in one place for too long or how the thought of getting comfortable in a steady routine job gives me hives; it's more to do with my need for change.

Basically, the point is that I crave - no, I NEED - some spontaneity in my life to keep me sane. I developed this love for the nomadic lifestyle when I really travelled alone for the first time. As soon as I stepped foot off of the plane and onto English soil, I felt this complete and utter shift. From that moment on, home became more than where I was born or where I grew up; it became where I felt the most comfort.

That year (and a half) of traveling taught me more than any high school or university education ever did. My appreciation for art and cultures grew, I found a passion in writing and I also uncovered an entirely different side of me that I never knew existed. This new side of me was confident, spontaneous, adventurous, and even brave at times. I never thought that I would become a cliche and that traveling resulted in me finding myself. But I did, in a way.

This is how I knew that returning to Canada would be a bittersweet homecoming and it explained why I felt so caged and trapped in suburban hell. Basically, ever since I have returned to this perpetual suburgatory known as Mississauga - the bottom feeder of the GTA and where dreams come to die - I have been bored out of my mind. I convinced myself that this current state was temporary and I wasn't getting comfortable with routine life, but rather biding my time until I could settle up university debts (with the hopes of someday venturing off far far away from this place). In fact, that was the only thing that truly kept me sane these past two years. Unfortunately, it didn't make things any easier.

The nomad in me could not physically allow myself to settle, the explorer in me was constantly searching for the next spontaneous adventure and the neurotic masochist in me was refreshing the travel websites for flight deals and work abroad every chance I got. Again, all this was just to remind myself how temporary my situation was.

I even distanced myself from writing because I didn’t believe that my mundane lifestyle was worth reading about. And it wasn't (unless you enjoy reading about my trip to Loblaws or how a customer yelled at me for getting charged $1.50 for bbq sauce. I know, riveting stuff). But since life is all about perspective, I've decided to forgo dwelling on the things I cannot change for the moment, and instead focus on the things that I can.

I've always believed that if you don't like something about your life, you should change it. So that's what I am doing, I'm changing it - or rather, switching things up - which brings me to my current predicament and the main reason for this blog post.

This summer was supposed to be different. I had some pretty exciting news to share with you all; things that were meant to change the very course of my life. It was supposed to be big, like seriously adulting big. I may have even been slightly presumptuous as to have already written up a blog post about this particular news as a means to share it to you all, but then things fell through and now it's pretty much moot. Which is irritating on so many levels...for one, I had the best title for the post and now I can't use it *sigh*.

Okay maybe I am being a touch too dramatic but that aside...I'm not going to lie guys, I am pretty gutted about this particular thing. I know I am being incredibly stupid and vague about this - for all you know I could have been sharing the news of becoming a high class escort (I'M NOT becoming an escort by the way, neither high class nor low, not even middle class) - but honestly, the truth is that I'm not ready to share this part of my life right now. I will, eventually. But right now the disappointment is still fresh and I need to just move on.

Even if my luck isn't the greatest and my plans tend to always fall through, one thing I can count on in my life is my ability to rationalize in any given situation. It's a survival tactic I have developed as a result of things not always going according to plan. See, instead of dwelling on the past and things I can't change, I try to move forward and retake control of the situation. So when disaster stuck - or rather disappointment struck - I did the one logical thing I could think of: I went home.

One place that always gave me the distinct feeling of coming home after a long and tiresome journey was London, England. I've never had that overwhelming feeling of home until I stepped foot onto the Tarmac at Gatwick Airport a mere 3 years ago. Little did I know that leaving England mean't leaving a piece of me with it. England has my heart guys. So the only justifiable option for me during a time of crisis is to return home and get my heart back: London's Calling and I'm Answering.


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