JOB!! (and the joys of public transportation)

I got a job!!! I had an interview this morning with Isabelle at Central St. Martin's College of Art and Design, a part of the greater University of the Arts London. They specialize in fine art, creative expression of all sorts from theater, graphic design and are most known for their fashion program. Apparently many prestigious designers have gone through their school. (I'll have to brush up my knowledge of the fashion world for sure now.) Anyways, I'll be working in the Information Office, basically the front desk for student inquiries. I'll be doing very much the same thing as I did at DU, so it shouldn't be hard to get into the swing of things fairly quickly. The best part is the money.. which will be enough to pay for rent (always a good thing) and I should have enough to save up and travel a bit. They want me until the end of February, when my visa expires. Another cool bit is that it's just up the street from Alastair's job, so we can maybe commute together, unless we have our fill of each other at home that is.

Now.. on to bigger (well funnier) events. Ahhh, don't you just love public transportation? -- No really, do you love it? -- For me it's more of a love/hate relationship, especially when you are rather unceremoniously dropped off in a very different part of town than what you intended or expected. Let me tell you of my latest fun bus experience. The other day, I was a bit down after traipsing all around the city and still no farther on securing a job, so I decided to go to IKEA and get some things for the flat. (I know, brilliant plan to go spend money when you're unemployed, but give me a break it was supposed to be shop-therapy.) So I walked to the nearest bus stop which is conveniently close to my flat and wait for the number 102 bus towards Brent Cross (where the mall and subsequent bus change is). I must break here to explain a funny thing about the bus system that no one here was kind enough to explain to me. First, it would be a good thing to know that there are two types of bus stops. One is the usual bus stop, where you are assured a bus will pull over to the side to let you on. The second one is a "request stop" where once you spot the bus you're looking for you have to put out your hand, like you're calling a cab, so they know to stop for you. The only way to tell these two stops apart is simple (once you know it). The usual stops will have a white sign with a red London transportation symbol, you know the circle with horizontal line through the middle. And the request stops with be opposite, red sign and white symbol. Well my nearest bus stop is a request stop. Luckily as I was beginning to figure out this elaborate system by sheer observation, someone else had called the bus. So I get on and we start to go the same way that Alastair and I went that one day, until we reach this one interchange and the sign pointing to Brent Cross is pointing to turn right and we go straight. At first I thought maybe I'd gotten on another bus that goes a different route but still ends up at the mall. Alas, no. We go a bit farther until finally only three people are left on the upper deck (I must say I do love the double deckers, they really are fun) and then we come to a stop at a bus depot. Again luckily for me, someone else figures out that things have gone astray and this is the last stop for the bus. She jumps off, the other girl and I run after her and we all disembark to wait for another bus. Unfortunately, I was no where recognizable (and in a bit of a dodgy neighborhood). So I cross the street and decide to wait for the same bus (number 102) going in the opposite direction, heading towards Golders Green. I finally get one, at another request stop. This time I stick my hand out to get the bus, having now gotten the hang of the situation and get on with no problem. It takes me right back to where I started and I had spent an hour going around northern London for no particular reason. Consequently, I went home, made dinner, got a glass of wine and didn't stray out of my flat for the rest of the evening.

Sorry this was so long a story, but it needed to be so.