My god, lads, thank you. Either you’re all actually gonna miss me, or you’re stellar actors, it’s a win-win situation. Ste and his family threw a wonderful party for me, and I can’t thank them enough. It was an honour to play Kings, enjoying the milky tones of My Dick, and getting skinked, before I left.
Nobody had to come to the airport with me. I’d have happily got the airport bus and dragged my sorry ass through the airport alone and been grand, like. Serious love for the guys that came out for me. I’m chilling in my new room right now, with grandiose visions of updating my blog once a week. We’ll see how that one goes.
So, I’ve emigrated. Well.. kind of. Emigration implies that I’ve left permanently, and I have a two year working holiday visa. I don’t know yet if I will want to stay after two years. I’m trying not to think too far into the future, as it just makes me scared and then I start putting shit off. Right now, I know that I’ve come here to stay with a wonderful girl and her family, who have made me feel very welcome.
I paid €25 extra to use the Aer Lingus Lounge. It was pretty comfy. I could charge my phone and laptop, enjoy wi-fi and complimentary snacks, and enjoy the relaxing sounds of water from their fountain. I fucking love the sound of water. I don’t think I’d pay for the fancy lounge again unless I had a couple of hours use from it. I’ll have to leave super early for all my other transatlantic flights I take so often. I got myself a litre of Southern Comfort and some Tullamore Dew in duty free, as well. Sorted for skink for the next couple of months.
The flight itself was pretty grand. Naturally, my gate was the farthest possible distance from the lounge, so I had the usual airport panics of “where the fuck is my gate” and “i’m gonna miss this flight aren’t i” but I was actually grand. The screens in the backs of the seats had a stellar selection of music, and three of the best TV shows around. I had to choose between True Detective, Game of Thrones, and House of Cards. The decision was made for me, as I’ve already seen two of them.
5 episodes of House of Cards had me well and truly sorted. My Air Canada flight last year had free alcohol from the trolley, sadly Aer Lingus didn’t, so I couldn’t relax with a nice glass of wine. I had sparkling water, instead, which was probably a net improvement for my health. Once we’d landed, I whizzed through Toronto Airport within the hour, much more quickly than last time. Immigration was absolutely grand. The immigration officer happily informed me that I wasn’t allowed work as a strip club bouncer. I let him know that I’d have to turn down a lot of job offers then.
I was picked up by my wonderful new family at the airport (though they ended up at Canadian arrivals instead of international arrivals, so it took a while to find each other!) They’re allowing me to stay in their basement. When people in Ireland/UK hear the word “basement”, they expect something resembling a dungeon. My basement resembles like, a 5 star hotel. I’ve got my own toilet, like. I can leave the door open and everything. I also have a dog that likes to follow me around the house.
I can’t let yis all down. I can’t fuck off and sit around on my arse for two years because then if I come back, you’ll dig my head in for it. Serious pressure, yis cunts. I’m certainly not planning to sit on my arse for two years though. Gonna try and meet new people, try new things, growing myself as a person, and possibly start directing myself towards something resembling a career. It’s gonna be deadly.