When Am I Allowed to Bum Around?

When I started writing this blog, not when it originated (because it was a load of shit as a sports based blog), but when I really started writing, the purpose was to allow me to get away from my surroundings and make a little bit of sense of my life once in a while and blow off a little steam in the process. I have seemed to get away from that strategy lately and I think it might be time to fix it. Now, I don't want you to confuse that with a promise of regular posts, but I will make a conscious effort to feel guilty when I don't write a post once a week like I originally planned. Coupled with the fact my next few weeks/months are busy as fuck all, I don't think I could commit the time to write regularly and keep up with this smack habit I've picked up. Priorities, people!

Keeping with the format of giving you literally zero pieces of interesting and/or helpful information, here is a snapshot of what's supposed to happen in my life over the next few weeks. I give no promises of accuracy, though.

I'm fresh off a 12 hour work day (I know, b-o-o h-o-o, woe is me, blah blah blah – fuck you, I'm tired) so keeping that in mind, I'm really not looking forward to the next five work days for a few reasons. Monday and Tuesday (of this week) are the absolute worst days of my entire month when it comes to work related hell. Four times a month, I'm subjected to a torture known as “trap reporting” which means “cruel and unusual punishment” in Latin. Without boring you completely to tears - four times a month, I lead conference calls with all kinds of people who are excruciatingly more important than me with the purpose of making sure they fix the shit they say they will and finding out why they haven't fixed the shit they were supposed to fix. Monday and Tuesday are the more important version of these calls and the last ten days have been dedicated to making sure they go as smooth as possible. Let's just say I'm counting the hours until noon on Tuesday when I can officially be done with this horrific procedure for the calendar year.

After enduring my punishment filled week (or maybe two days, time will tell), my brother Josh and Ms. Hanni Berger will be making their way down from the frigid northwest to visit warmer climates for the weekend. Aside from the pops helping me move down here in September, this will mark the first visit of friends from Ohio and I'm looking forward to showing them around town. It will be a much needed break from reality and should be very beneficial to all involved. Let's hope for a quick work week and get on with the foolishness and shenanigans.

After the broseph and Berg leave from their weekend visit, I have one more week of work before I make my way back up North to the “fuck you, winter” cold of Ohio. This will be a bit longer of a visit than my trek last month, so I'm going to have to bring a few more articles of warm clothing to not freeze my bells off. It's not too late for you guys to come down here for Christmas, ya know! I'd be more than happy to “miss” my flight provided I don't have to freeze my ass off up there for a week. I'll let you think on that for a bit...just let me know. Anyway, after the reminder of why I moved South is over, I fly back to glorious, warm Florida to make my way to New Orleans, LA for New Year's Eve celebrations. The only solid plan I'm aware of regarding this trip is I will be in attendance as the Saints murder Carolina on their way to a playoff spot and probably a first round playoff bye. This will mark the first time I will witness Panthers action in person, so I don't really give a shit about the outcome, especially since they're well on their way to solidifying the #2 pick in next year's NFL draft ending the year at a stout 4-12. Oh well...at least they're not the Browns.

After New Orleans, it's another three weeks before the trip to China – but that's a whole post in itself, so I won't ruin the fun tonight. Oh, before you read this entire post, I just want to throw out a note that this isn't funny at all, so if that's what you're looking for you should probably move on. What's that – you already read it? Oops...guess I should have put that at the beginning. Suckers...

Last Post in London

Well, here we are: the last night in London. Fuck, it came quick, but that's what everyone (including me) said would happen. I guess I never realized how quickly it would come. Those last two sentences are just absolutely rife with sexual undertones...or is that just me?

One of the most common question I've been asked in the last few days is some variant of the following: are you sad? Answer: yes and no. Today was my last day of work at UBS for what I can only assume is forever. I have no prospect of continuing my employment for UBS in the States in the next few days/weeks/months, so the only logical conclusion is this chapter is closed and will stay closed. Sad? Not really. There are people I have met in the past year I will certainly miss, but those who matter won't really be going away; it'll just be months of potential planning to meet up which will eventually fall through and odds are I won't see a single one of them again. Always the optimist, I know. I do have some faith in a select few, though.

So, no...I'm not sad. I'm not really sure how to express what's going on right now, honestly. I'm at a loss for words. I knew this would happen eventually if I talked or wrote enough. At this point, it doesn't seem real. I know I'm leaving tomorrow and I know I'm going to have to say goodbye to some people who have become invaluable in my life. I also know I don't know how I'm going to react. The only solace is I know it has to happen and I can't do a thing to stop it. Every person I've grown close to over the past few weeks/months/year are from different parts of the world. Most are in the US which will make a meet potentially possible, but we're all going to be beyond busy the next few weeks/months and once we get around to it, it'll just be a “well...I guess I could, but why put in that much effort? Seems like a lot of work.” As with everything, time will tell.

Anyway, enough of that bullshit and more of the cynicism you come to expect from this page. Last night, I was at an event cleverly titled “leaving drinks” for a friend of mine. What happens at this event, you may ask? Well, drinks are clearly involved. The reason for the occasion? They're leaving! I know...I was stuck on that one for a while, too. It just so happened that this event was host to just about every person I have come to meet and loathe for the last fifty-ish weeks or longer. There are some I haven't seen or spoken to in months and there are others who I was friendly with previously where that friendliness does not exist anymore. I'm torn up about it, I swear. However, whenever there can be drinking and awkwardness involved...well, fuckin' eh, count me in.

I can sum this night up in just a few sentences: imagine being at a house party complete with three keg stations. In attendance are about two hundred people; one hundred and seventy of which you can't stand while the other thirty are absolutely shit-hammered while you're sober and trying to get to their level. Oh, and two keg stations just dried up.

Following the story so far? Ok, so here's what happens: you end up getting stuck in line with about a fucking million people you would rather have rusty, dirty knives shoved up your pee-hole than speak to, let alone be near in general. Sober. Fun, right? Here's what you can expect from this scenario: fake interactions with those you hate, some getting pissed you're ignoring them even though you've spoken maybe two words to them in your entire life, and fantastic over-the-top reconciliations from those you used to be friends with based on their having new people around them so they can save face and not look like a fuck/dick/cunt/bitch. Where are the people you actually care about, want to hang out with, talk to and see? Nowhere to be found...tumbleweeds. Get me the fuck out of here. Now.

Short story long: I left early after saying my goodbyes to the people I came to see. Shocking, I know...

So it's my last night...I'm done packing...all the flatmates are out of the house...and I'm sitting here contemplating the previous year in this fucked up thing we call life. Seems fitting, I think. This will be my last post written in London...next time you hear from me will be when I'm on US soil for the first time since April. I've said it before and I'll say it again...life's a fucked up ride. Hold tight, ride it the best you can (there's those goddamn sexual undertones again!) and see where you end up.

It's been a great year and for those who have stuck with me for this long, for those who have read occasionally, and for those of you who might be new readers, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Here's to the next one.