Russian Invasion!

This morning I came downstairs to one of our Russian housemates, cooking burgers and chips. I’m totally getting Russian citizenship if that’s what they eat for breakfast!
I had to pay the rent so I got on the bus, but I was stopped by the driver.
I had my march TTC pass instead of the April one. FECK!
He was nice enough to let me ride anyway.
I went down to the subway, which is also the location of my bank.
After withdrawing the cash for my rent, I then tried to get back into the station to take the bus home.
The bitch wouldn’t let me through. I mean, seriously, for the amount of money I pay for that pass, you’d think they’d give you half a days grace. Also, people don’t buy one off month passes, if you buy a month pass, you are a serious user, so it stands to reason that it is highly likely I have an april card sat at home on my desk.
I walked home in the rain.

I then rang up the rehearsal space to try and get myself an hour of drum practise. Oh wow, yet another twat trying to spoil my day!
He kept saying it’s company policy that the minimum you can book a room is 2 hours when I’ve been a few times before and only had one. Eventually after arguing with him, he put me on hold and came back to say that he “could make it happen for me.” I was trying to book a one hour slot that would start in 50 minutes time. I’ve been in plenty of bands to know that if there is more than one person, you are never going to be able to organise them quickly enough to book a rehearsal in 50 minutes time and therefore would probably never fill the slot I wanted anyway. makes perfect business sense to me to take anything you can rather than have an empty room.

After playing there I headed on to the uni for some juggling practise. There was just a hooper there, who turned out to be from Bristol! She’s on the same work permit thingy as me, but hers runs out in May. She’s working as a massage therapist and was saying it took her forever to find a job that wasn’t a brothel. She even went to one that was advertised as “this is not a brothel,” and the interviewer was implying that she should give ‘extras,’ if asked.

One of the other jugglers turned up and helped me fill in my tax return. I’m going to get about a grand back!!
Cash money, ch-ching!

I then got a lift home and hung around for a while watching Baldo lose all his money betting on basketball.
Our new housemate (Russian, bringing the total of Russians in the house to 4) finally showed up and we helped her bring all her stuff in.

She’s lovely and cooked us all pancakes!

^ You can see Baldo in the background eating crackers and ketchup!


Posted on Sunday, 1 April, 2012, in Living in Canada. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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