So it has been exactly a month since I have returned from my trip to Europe. Am I late or what?! Late is better then never so here it goes..
On June I departed at 9 pm on my self defining journey. Did I define anything? Not a chance. Did you expect anything more from constantly confused and emotional dame like myself? I did however, make a few changes to my already complicated and beyond confusing life. Let me start off by saying zero F**k’s were given the day I left. Yup, the plane ride- didn’t care. I slept through 90% of the flight. The other 10% was pissing, eating, and complaining that I couldn’t breath. I was violently ill with a sinus infection and was prescribed a nasal spray that was eating a hole through my nasal cavity and possibly causing brain damage. On top of that, really weak antibiotics that WERE NOT helping. So cabin air = death. By the way, this is a big deal to me because, flying gives me major anxiety. So kudos to me for not even having to tranquillize myself (that and the doctor wouldn’t give me any!…Sad face)
When I arrived in England, it was pure chaos. Matt and myself were essentially running around London England with a our luggage. Well, more like Matt was running around.. I was dragged..I would pass out standing leaning up against my luggage any chance I got. Or falling asleep in the tube. It took us a total of 3 hours to locate and arrive at the BnB we had pre-booked like a month in advance.
Moving on, I had explained in previous posts that Matt’s soul purpose of travelling to London England was to complete a soccer course to become a licensed soccer coach. So, that’s what he did. Me, I was left to my own devices. That means, sightseeing and wondering around would have to be by myself. Not a completely terrible thing. Unless, you are horrible with maps, directions, and even worse, walking. The next day after arriving, I decided to go sightseeing while Matt attended his soccer course. I prepared myself the night before with simple directions. Besides, I had my trusty iPhone and its wonderful map functions.
I set out on my adventure in the morning to visit the University of Greenwich. It took me a total of 7 footsteps from the front door to make-out with the side walk. I can’t even lie and pretend that I tripped on anything other then air. Not even 2 minutes from the house and I had bloody knees and wrists. I quickly stood up, brushed myself off, and carried on down the street. Did you know you can get lost with a map? I did! 20 or 30 minutes later, I had become completely LOST. I found a small little park with a pond and some benches and decided to sit down to attempt on locating MYSELF…After failing miserably, I choose to ask someone in passing for directions. A pleasant young mother with her 2 children walking by seemed like a good option. After being so kind as to point my in the right direction, she then asked with concern if I was okay. When saying yes thank you, I’m fine, she quickly responded with “Are you sure? You are bleeding everywhere” (in a cute British accent of course) I had totally forgot the fact I had fallen and torn apart all four of my limbs due to the fact that being lost took precedence. I assured her I was fine and thanked her kindly for all her help. Then I spat in my sleeve and whipped off the blood from my knees and wrist like anybody would do. Right?
After a gruesome 2 hour walk on what I might add, their side walks are a complete shit show! It’s like walking on the aftermath of a level 8 earthquake! Cracks and lifted pavement, tree roots bursting through the ground every which way! It’s a nightmare! My poor ankles were swollen and bruised for days!!! We are so spoiled with our side walk conditions here in Toronto. Jesus. Back to my story, I made it, alive and in one piece. I stayed there for 3 hours, wandering around, checking out the city. It was beautiful to say the least. That and I was not about to hit it and leave after it took me FOREVER to get there. Got lost on my way home too! Shocker… In a roundabout…My God! I felt like a prairie dog popping out from every exit possible! Needless to say it took me 2 hours to get home when the iPhone clearly states it would of only taken me 30 minutes if I followed their “suggested” route…. IF I KNEW HOW TO USE A MAP! >.< This was a daily routine, although, by day 4 it got better. I wasn’t AS hopeless as I started off. Besides, this was the first time I had done anything like this by myself, ever! Still, I was no closer to figuring out what I was going to do with my life when I got back to Canada. I did my daily routine of Kijiji searches for jobs or explored University and College websites in hopes of finding something that would peek my interest. On June 18th we arrived in Porto, Portugal and were being picked up by his Aunt and Uncle to be taken to Vigo, Spain. We were there till about the 25th then headed back to Portugal by a 6 hour bus ride where we stayed in Caldas da Rainha with his Grandparents. Needless to say this time was obviously spent with him and his family sightseeing. Which to be quite honest, wasn’t that bad. The most interesting day was the 30th, the day before we were heading out back to England. It was a beautiful day, got alot of sightseeing done, almost died from regurgitating my internal organs. It was the weirdest thing. We had just all finished lunch and were now heading to one of this Uncle’s houses, when all the sudden, I started getting a really bad migraine. I tried closing my eyes in the car ride there. But the drive made it worse. Nausea set and in no time, I was screaming for the car to be pulled over so I could expel my soul from my mouth. It was like watching one of those bad movies about the exorcist of Emily Rose. I fell to my knees in a ditch and began ejecting lunch and a very expensive bottle of wine. All I remember was Matt getting out of the car and as he was walking towards me, saying the most insensitive and irritating commentary of life. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much wine”…”Well now you have room for dinner”.. and the worst by far .. “Don’t you dare cry”… Honestly? Can you F***ing lend a hand maybe? Hold my hair? Dare ask if I’m okay?!? What seemed like forever of endless spew-age lasted a grand total of 5 minutes. UGH! I hate Hate HATE! throwing up! *cries* and yes…I do cry when I puke. This only got worse. They ended up meeting up with his Uncle at some smoke house that is literally all about barbecued meat of all sorts. I love meat. But when I’m nauseous, the smell can drive me up the wall. I must of vomited another 2 times outside of this restaurant. The bathroom was a no go because it reeked of some perfume potpourri shit. Which of course, made my head spin and my stomach turn. I decided it would be best if I would just stay in the car while they ate and lye down. You know, die alone, by myself in the back of a car in a foreign country. I past out for about 15 minutes at a time with interruptions of up-chucking. Matt was kind enough to check on me about an hour later to see if I died or not. How sweet. Unfortunately, when he came to check on me, he had spooked me awake. This resulting in more puking in which I barely got out of the car for. I puked at the side of the car…while Matt yelled “not there!”…then he grabbed a plastic bag from inside the car to then say..”that’s disgusting” and “how flattering”… All I wanted to do by this point was die. Anything would of been better then dry heaving stomach acid. On the drive home, I was in and out of sleep. As we pulled into the driveway, the feeling of throwing up crept up on me. Getting out of the car in a panic to make it to the wash-room, I epically failed and fell at the side of the house in their garden. As I heaved for the last time, I cried as I said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” …What was I apologizing for? Well, back in Spain, me and Matt had gotten into a giant blow up where I was caught in a lie and lied about not lying…I’m not proud of myself…and obviously felt guilty…Which is why I was apologizing… I felt it was my punishment for being dishonest..Surprisingly after I apologized and recognized my faults, I stopped vomiting? My whole evening was ruined and so was the rest of my night. When I got inside I had passed out till about 5 am in the morning. Did I mention our flight back to England was that very morning and I was not packed at all! Very weak and disoriented, I packed and then went back to sleep till 7 am. We arrived back in England on the 1st of July. We were to depart back to Canada on the 4th. Matt finished the rest of his course on the 2nd and 3rd. He passed…Yippee? The End. Not even…. So we got back on the 4th and life has only gotten more intense since then. It has been nothing but an emotional roller-coaster since I’ve returned. My dog was sick…had to take him to the vet. I’m sick, had to take myself to the vet. I have some fluke that decided to welcome it’s self into my liver..? (a Fluke is a parasitic worm by the way…yummy).. besides having major anxiety and stress, I’m also bored-line depressed. I still do the same freaking job that I said I wouldn’t be doing once I returned and my heart is still a mangled mess. So instead of seeking professional help, I decided to play Martha Stewart for a bit to see if that helps. I’ve currently been in the process of renovating my entire room. Change is good right? So is being broke from buying a bed that only pisses you off because it takes up way too much space and you keep smashing your damn knees on the corner of that stupid bed so now it looks like you’ve been doing extreme sports when really you don’t know how to mind space when you freaking walk!!!… I know it’s a run on sentence… It was done intentionally. Well, there you have it. Now you are officially all caught up with mysterious life.