My affair with London

Stepped outside into the glorious sunshine at half past three today. Half past three! Any city worker would have been envious of my fine working hours, today was just short of the hours I had when I was at school. I felt almost guilty walking the streets without sight of a city suit worker but it allowed me to appreciate how beautiful London is without the mass of crisp white shirts and tight fitted suits I usually have to dodge my way in and out of. To top it all off, there wasn't a single grey cloud in the sky and I could be almost tricked into believing it was summer having spent the lunch hour chilling lazily in the park with my colleagues. At these times I love London. Its mix of people, cultures, architecture, musical theatre combined with the hustle and bustle of city life with room still for pockets of open space and greenery.

At other times, London can feel like the lonliest place on earth. Ironic, as it is hardly short of people. But for every stranger you pass by, for every soul that barges past you on the mad rush home, you begin to feel a chill deep set in your bones until one day when you've had a bad day or things haven't quite gone your way, the coldness hits you like a brisk winter wind. The grey skies can't possibly get any greyer. The tall office buildings cast their shadows over you looming intimidatingly above and at times you can feel claustrophobic. At these times all I want to do at the end of the day is retreat back to the suburbs.

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Photographs.

I spent a few hours today digging through old and new photos. I wanted to pin some up in my room so went out and bought some simple black frames to house them. What I didn't realise is quite so many I actually have collected over the years.

I may not be able to use one of those contraptions they call a DSLR or be a whizz at photoshop but I'm not a newbie to photography. When I got my first camera one birthday many many years back I was ecstatic and promptly went around taking pictures of almost anyone and everything in my way until the film ran out. I sent my photos off to be developed (by snail mail) and impatiently waited for them to be returned. I'm not sure where those photos are or even if I still have them around but the feeling is just the same now. I love taking photos, I love looking through people's photos and seeing how they capture them. I love being captured by them. Except now I don't have to wait for my photographs to develop. There is some magic though in the waiting and anticipating.

I love flicking through old photo albums and picking up an oldie and in an instance being transported to that time and place and the feelings of that moment come flooding back. They are also good for a girl with a memory as terrible as mine. Photographs have the power to move you, to capture in a nanosecond the essence of a moment you wanted at that time to freeze forever. And even if those photographs are not your own, there's something about a photograph that can simply speak and tell its own story to the beholder.

So I pinned up my photos (Vonne will be impressed with my fantastic hammering skills...so much so that I had to quite possibly make a few more holes than nexessary just to get it right) so like my room in the royal palace which I miss dearly, I can glance at them from time to time and feel a glow in my heart just remembering those times.

Strange familiarity

I wondered how somehow along the line caught up in our own separate lives we lost touch. Phone calls and meet ups became fewer and further between. Cards were less personal and more just a way of habit and gradually we shared less and less of our lives with each other.

I wonder if that's really what will happen to some of my friendships now. We'll part ways, find new friends and move on with our lives.

But then one day, you'll catch a glimpse of something sparkling in the sand and although through time its been buried layer upon layer, all it takes is the tide to wash it away and bring it back up to the surface.

Like a forgotten gem.

There's something so familiar about old company no matter how many years its spent tucked away in the closet. That despite all the years you still know their phone number by heart. You fall into the familiar habit of checking your height against one another, only to discover you're exactly as tall as them as it was 10 years ago (though you may have grown an inch or two since then). And that they still care to remember the little things about you that you'd thought they'd forgotten.

Yes, old friends. Its nice to discover them once more.

Week one.

It's actually like a whole new world I've been completely oblivious to has just opened up. In the mornings, I take a bus I never knew existed to the train station and see all the suited up workers come out of their comfortable cul-de-sac homes in the middle of nowhere to head to the hustle and bustle of London. And I am one of them! It feels odd and strangely surreal.

I haven't started properly working yet. Instead, I get to sit in a classroom in 'business attire' (for some ridiculous reason we are not allowed to wear jeans though other firms are free to turn up in jeans..) and am bogged down by accounting jargon. I feel like I'm back in school again until I look down at my suit and realise I'm supposed to be grown up.

Day one.

Feel like a fake, sitting on the train with all the suit clad business people. Or a little girl borrowing her mum's high heels to parade around for a while. As if they all know I'm a first timer, just trying it on for size. The train was relatively empty so I could rest my eyes whilst regretting going to sleep so late. I make a mental note to bring along something to do on the long commute to and from work. The train breezes through the countryside with the sun making a most welcome appearance. This is the journey I'll be making day in, day out.

~*~

Now sitting in Starbucks, my latte faithfully by my side. I was here just five months ago preparing for my interview. Now I'm back here again trying to psych myself up for work. Funny how I always flock to familiarity in the inviting green and white whenever I cross new territory.

In transition.

Cannot seem to think of a name for this blog. Neither do I know how I want it to look like. But somehow felt the need to leave the old one behind and start afresh.

I guess this is very much where I am in life right now. In transition. I'm moving on to a new chapter in my life hoping that somehow it will bring me closer to figuring out who I am and what to make of it. I don't think we ever figure it out completely, no matter how old or wise we seem. There's always something that can catch us by surprise or something round the corner that will shake us, move us or test us.

Tomorrow, I'll be starting afresh, starting at my new job. A chance I got when I started high school and university; the chance to be whoever I want to be; without any expectations of me (apart from the fact that I'm supposed to have a degree) or reputation to uphold. I'm free to try on a new suit and see if it fits right.

It hasn't really even sunk in that I'm the proud holder of a degree yet, still somehow expecting to go back to Warwick in October but at the same time it feels a world away. I am excited, nervous, wanting to get this over with and cannot wait at the same time. But anyhow its time to turn the page to the next chapter...