Permanent Address

Oh happy happy day, I finally found a flat! I say 'finally' as if I had seen thousands of places in the past weeks, when in actuality I've only visited two flats and met with one other potential roommate for a 'chemistry check'. In my defense, roommate and flat hunting is hard freakin work in a city that 1. never adopted the grid system 2. is always raining and 3. NEVER ADOPTED THE GRID SYSTEM...Thats it, Americans 3, Brits 2! -- I'm over the 'charming' winding roads.

Below outlines my 3 experiences:

"Animal House"
'2 Aussies and 2 Kiwis (currently 2 guys, 2 girls) professionals looking for one other person to join our house-share, must be sociable, friendly and like having fun...'

Before I had left for London I had 2 instructions from my Aussie and Kiwi friends who previously lived in London: 1. look for a roommate/flat using a website called Gumtree and 2. do not live with a Brit as they are anal - which is something I find to be very very true. Anyway, you could imagine my excitement when I found the above ad. Not only did I see it on Gumtree and not only were there no Brits involved, but I kept thinking about how happy my two friends would be when I reported back in that I would be living with people from their respective homelands -- YESS! I emailed the group and set up a date and time to view.

It was the night of my viewing and of course it was raining. Not a pouring rain, just that kind of annoying rain where you aren't sure if its bad enough to pull out your umbrella. In fear of looking like a rain wuss I typically won't pull out my umbrella until I see about 3 other people do it first. I only saw 2 people holding them so I strolled along as if there was no rain at all. The home was located in Clapham -- exactly where I had wanted to live prior to moving here. I walked up the street to the house and everything seemed really great - All the homes on the street were well kept and it was really close to a Tube station. I was so excited as I walked up to the house, knocked on the door...and then the door opened and all my excitement went down the drain. The guy who answered looked like a sweaty dirtball and had stains all over his shirt. ew. He told me he was the one moving out so I tried to keep everything else in perspective. The first thing I noticed was the nasty blue carpeting that you would find in any college frat house. You know the kind, dirty and thin - so thin it shouldn't even be considered carpeting, just some sheer color you place over cement. We went into the living area and one of the NZers was sitting on the futon talking to another prospective renter. Futon?! Who uses a futon after college for their main source of sitting?! I thought these people said they were professionals. I later found out professional meant bartender, 'artist' (side note: if this person was responsible for any of the 'art' in the house I wish them A LOT of luck, they're going to need it) and then one odd ball - a finance consultant. Seriously, I wouldn't want this guy handling my finances after knowing how he lives.

Anyway, the guy took me upstairs to show me all the bedrooms. Everything was a mess and with every mess a great excuse -- Oh, she just got home from a 2 week trip, he's been working ungodly hours, blah blah blah. Lets get freakin real here. Its a mess because you people are slobs and are trying to recruit a fellow slob. The guy was about to show me the bathroom but I had seen just about enough and didn't need that image plastered in my mind. He was surprised I didn't want to test the shower pressure. I was confused by this as I am almost certain shower pressure would be the last thing on his mind when viewing a place as I imagine he only takes about, oh, 1 shower every 17 days or so.

I stuck around politely for him to give me the rest of the details, told him I had a few more places to check out before I made a decision and then ran the heck out of that place and never looked back.

"Jenny, Jenny who can I turn to?"
'Looking for one nice girl to share my flat in Clapham Common. Ideal for someone who is social and will want to spend time in the apartment vs. just use it as a place to keep their stuff'

I initially really wanted to live with a bunch of people, but the last place had taken a lot out of me. So much so that I now only wanted to live with one other. I wasn't overly excited about their post on Gumtree, but I thought what the hell. She sounds nice enough and its in the area I want to live so whatever. I made an appointment for 2PM.

Of course the Saturday I went to view it was pouring rain - there was no question that an umbrella was needed. The girls name was Jenny and she gave me directions to her place just before I left. She said I needed to take the tube and then a short bus ride. Since it was a short bus ride and I tend to hate buses I decided I would map the route with google and just walk it.

I was definitely the only person in London that decided a nice walk through torrential rain would be a good idea. Not only was the rain worse in Clapham (I've come to learn that each neighborhood has very different weather patterns), but I couldn't find the correct street to even begin my journey down. See, in normal cities there are street signs located at the same spot on the corner of every single road making it easy to identify what street you maybe walking down. Surprise, surprise, this is not the case in London. You see, street signs are located on the corner of buildings -- but not necessary in the same spot. So you have to search for them every time you encounter a new street or block. This leads me to the thing I hate most about London - the non-existant Grid system.

There are 2 terrible things that happen as a result of not having a grid system:
1. Its impossible for a new person to get to know the city well
2. Long time residents of London won't know their own neighborhoods well - let alone their city - making it impossible to help the newcomers.

Seriously people that have been living in this city for years can't even tell you where certain streets are that may be located in their very neighborhoods. They could even be a block away and they would have no idea at all. The thing that drives me crazy is that they don't even care.

Okay so anyway I find the street, call Jenny and let her know I'd be about 15 minutes late and then begin my journey. Of course along the way I got lost. What is frustrating is I had been consulting my 'London A-Z' (side note: the Z is pronounced 'Zed' here) which is essentially a novel of maps detailing every road in London, but it did not help at all. I asked a couple people for help but of course they had no idea what roads I could even be referring to. Never heard of them. At this point it was 2:30P and still raining. I didn't want to give up on seeing this place, but I figured it was best to just cut my losses and go home. I called her to give my regrets and told her I was a big loser for being unable find my way around the city and she was probably better off with out me. Okay, I didn't say all that, but I did tell her I was a big loser for getting lost. Luckily, she disagreed and asked where I was located at the very moment. I was thinking 'yeah right, you probably have never even heard of the street I'm on let alone know how to get me to your place'. It took me a good minute to identify the intersection, but by-golly, she knew EXACTLY where I was. YESSSS! At that point I wasn't too far -- just a short bus ride. This time I heeded her advice, took the bus and got to her place. She was even waiting outside for me so I'd know exactly where it was. YESS!

We walked up the stairs to her apartment and she showed me around. Everything was great but the room was VERY VERY small...and she was british and my instructions were to NOT live with a Brit. However, the place had everything else a girl could want: washer/dryer in unit, nice sized living room, large bathroom and, most importantly, a Wii!! Jenny seemed really nice too. It seemed all the stars were aligned and i really just wanted to sign on right there...but I had scheduled a "chemistry check" with a German chick for the next day and didn't want to put all my eggs in this basket. I knew no one else was viewing the place until Monday so I asked if I could have a day to think it over. She was cool with it. Maybe Brits aren't so anal after all.

"Das ist nicht mein Fall"
Anyone that has moved to a new city will tell you that before they left they were armed with a laundry list of random contacts that were given to them by people from home. The list will typically include close friends, co-workers, random contacts met while traveling, the college roommate of their brother-in-law's best friend, etc. In any event, you introduce yourself to these people via email and see what happens from there. One of the more friendly and helpful people I emailed actually put me in contact with another girl that was in my situation. She was moving to London from Berlin and needed a roommate. The German and I emailed back and forth and even hopped on a call to see if we were 'compatible'. Everything sounded pretty good -- in the same price range for a flat, sociable and work in a similar industries. Since the call went so well we decided we should meet.

We met in Piccadilly Circus in front of the Boots (think CVS/Walgreens) that was located under the 'big, famous advertisement' (think Times Square) as the German described. In order to identify each other we described ourselves and said what we would be wearing. She has long blond hair, thick framed square glasses (think Palin/Fey) and a coat with a Berlin badge on the side -- which made me a little uneasy for some reason. I mean, as much as I love Elgin and Chicago I would never wear a badge on my coat referencing them. Well, now that I think about it I probably would for Elgin - Anyway, I told her I was going to wear a black Northface coat and had short brown hair...like pretty much every other American tourist running around Piccadilly Circus...only I was no tourist...booyah.

The conversation was going well and we decided to grab food at a bar. She asked what I was going to order and I told her I was between the roast & fish and chips. "Oh. I hear fish and chips is good but not very lady like." Not very lady like?! Every other freakin girl in the place was ordering fish and chips. Now, if I was at a dinner at the Royal Palace I would agree with her, but we were at some small pub in the middle of London -- who freakin cares?! So ask her what she was thinking of ordering. ' I will try Salad or soup'. Figures. At this point was certain I would not live with her. Even though I had decided this I know I won't break the news until the following day and kept the 'interview' process going. We get through all the minor details and then she decides to throw in a doozie -- she's married. Hmm...that's convenient. Its funny how it never occurred to her that it may be important to indicate something like this during one of the email exchanges or phone call. Apparently her husband was bound to a contract in Berlin for the next year or so and they would be community back and forth. Wow, that seems like a really ideal situation your potential 26 year old, single American roommate. Oh wait, it doesn't.

"Yay!"
So you can guess by now that I will be living with the lovely Jenny in Clapham. We met for dinner in Chinatown last night and she is great. I move in on 23/11 (think 11/23) and the date couldn't come soon enough!

I know I promised to talk about work differences this week but I thought the roommate business would be a little more important. Unless some other pivotal experience happens in the mean time you can count on that. Unless some other pivotal experience happens in the mean time you can count on that.