First things first...obviously, I survived Amsterdam. Sucks for you, that just means more pointless rambling and thousands of words you never wanted to read in the first place. But here you are anyway because I have a mesmerizing way of making you come back, time and time again, even though you really don't know why you click the link in the first place. Sucker...
My brief thoughts on Amsterdam:
1. It is fucking expensive. I was there for a little over two days and spent well over two hundred Euros and really have nothing to show for it. Before you ask, no – I did not buy a hooker and I did not buy any pot. As far as you know...
Seriously...ridiculously expensive. I also did not have a single drink bought for me...apparently I'm not the kind of guy gay dudes go for...oh well...
2. The easiest way to describe Amsterdam: think of Vegas on meth, coke, and ecstasy and throw in an alcoholic blackout session and you're getting pretty close. Then add hookers. Yep...that's Amsterdam.
3. Walking around Amsterdam was very confusing for me in many ways.
- First, there are so many fucking canals it makes it nearly impossible to know where you are without a map. Even with a map, it's pretty fucking difficult (as I found out Saturday night/Sunday morning) and as soon as the destination is in sight, it's like a ray of sunshine and rainbows and boners. I can't tell you how happy I was when I finally made it to the hostel on Sunday morning...I nearly wept because I was so happy after being lost for as long as I was.
- Second, that city is a total mind fuck for a man (or, let's face it...boy masquerading as man) because of the sheer amount of prostitutes in the red light district. Walking down a street or an alley is simply mind-boggling because of the nature of the profession. I just couldn't wrap my mind around it. Countless women standing in doorways showing off as much as possible in order to get you to drop your pants and what I can only assume is an obscene amount of money.
Between them knocking on the inside of the glass to get attention, the “come hither” finger curl, and the “fuck me” eyes, my mind could simply not process it. Call me old fashioned, but it takes more than a skimpy outfit, a sexy look and money exchanging hands to get this kid's attention. Okay, not much more...but still – a guy's got his principles. One of those principles just happens to be not paying for sex.
Enough about Amsterdam...I survived in one piece and of relative sound body/mind – just a little light in the wallet. It's vacation...that will happen.
Dammit! I always fucking do this...I totally had something else to write about after I was done with Amsterdam. Oh, got it!
London Riots:
Again, I lost what I wanted to say...I swear it was pointless and redundant, but I guess you'll just have to settle for me randomly rambling again. Basically, the riots aren't near the area I'm in at all and everywhere closed early because there were rumors of the riots coming near Old Street. Which resulted in my gym closing early, which in turn resulted in me being not happy and unfulfilled.
I really don't know what I'm talking about, but for what it's worth, it's really stupid that something like this has spun so out of control. I understand the reason for getting so pissed (for those who don't know, read the news instead of hearing my unsubstantiated claims) but it simply escalated to the point where the police could not handle it. Which made it spin even further out of control. Also, the looters and people setting the fires are complete fucks...we don't live in Columbus, Ohio, people.
Anyway, I'm pretty much done here, so do whatever you want now.
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
You Can't Get the Pretty Without the Boom
When I left you last, I was on the cusp of welcoming the entire family to London for an entire week of visit-related fun. I really don't have much to say about it other than it went as near to what I expected as possible and I think it's safe to say we're all glad to be back to whatever level of normalcy can be expected from our daily lives. Without going into much detail, there were a lot of fun times, some yelling, a lot of annoyance, but overall a successful visit, especially since everyone made it out alive. If you want stories, ask someone who was there to give the top three moments (they're probably all the same) and I'm sure they'll have no problem giving their version of what happened...myself included. That's about all I have to say about that...
Anyway, other than the family trip, things have been fairly hectic for me as well. After finding out the work offer had been revoked (I swear, the last time I'll mention it), I started my own job search with a frantic quality only seen in meth addicts. In the last few weeks, I have secured my very own recruiter based in Chicago and New York, my bosses have massaged a few leads (also in those cities), I have acquired a UBS lead in Chicago, applications/resumes/CVs have been feverishly sent to nearly thirty jobs in about a half dozen companies in four or five cities in the States. As you would probably expect, I have yet to hear from anyone regarding an interview or even the slightest interest in my services. Insert the normal excuses about the job market, timing, relocation costs, etc...but I do realize I have a few months here still and shouldn't really be worried too much..at least not yet. But the word “yet.”
Lets get away from the boring job stuff now and talk about something more fun...or at least what I would consider fun. The last few weeks have seen me in more different countries than probably the last 8 months combined, which is nice and also annoying at the same time. It may sound strange, but I'm not really the biggest fan of traveling...at all. It just seems more of a hassle than anything and I enjoy my comforts of home entirely too much to leave them very often. However, as I now only have a limited time over here, I feel like I have to take advantage of it by going as many places as possible in the next few weeks before the job search consumes my entire thought process. As a result, a few weeks ago I went to Poland and the Czech Republic over a long bank holiday weekend and last night I just returned from Spain. A few highlights of each place:
Prague, CZ: I was in both Prague and Krakow for a few days over the last bank holiday weekend with two of my flatmates, Art and Brian. We left on a Thursday afternoon getting into Prague around 10PM. Upon arrival of the hostel, we discover there is a bar located on the ground floor where we sampled the local offerings almost immediately. Another member of our program had been in Prague for a day earlier and we met up with him near the bar area. About a half hour later, Brian was scanning the bar when he turns to Art and me and says he recognizes a few of the girls from the end of the bar. Turns out, a few girls he went to college with in Texas were randomly in Prague the same weekend we were and two of them are doing a study abroad program for a master's type degree, or maybe the CZ equivalent. Naturally, we end up meeting them at another bar later on where all kinds of madness ensues, especially since the Czech Koruna is an extremely weak currency compared to the British Pound, meaning a beer at a higher end bar/club is about the equivalent of a pound and a half. Madness indeed...
The next night we partake in a bar crawl which starts at our hostel, takes us to one of the same bars we were at the night before along with three others. On the crawl, we meet a multitude of people, many being from the US on vacation. Side note: casual readers of this blog who may not know me personally might not know what happens sometimes when I have a bit too much to drink. I have what I call an alter-ego named Rufus who kind of takes over my psyche under certain circumstances and generally speaking...it can be quite interesting. Rufus has his own back story that completely differs from mine and there are quite a few people around the Bowling Green and London areas that know me only as Rufus. It's almost like split-personality disorder, except I know it happens and allow it...does that make sense? Eh...who cares, nobody's listening.
Anyway, there was a particular person on this bar crawl that made it known she graduated from Penn State. It was at that moment that Rufus decided he graduated from the University of Michigan and took it upon himself to completely belittle and destroy this woman's Alma Mater and the opinion she held it in. Don't ask me why...it's just kind of what he does. Safe to say she's not a fan, but that will happen. Aside from this woman coming up and repeating the same sentence about fifty times (“I really enjoyed my college experience”), the night proved to be extremely fun. The last club on the bar crawl was a five-story joint right on the river which supposedly had a different vibe and type of music on each level. Needless to say, I didn't stay very long as it's not exactly what could be considered my “scene.” On the way out, we caught up with one of the crawl tour guides named Yon (not too sure on the spelling) and he decided we shouldn't be done just yet. He proceeded to take a small group of us to four additional places (all of which I couldn't find again if I were paid) which sent the night into a spiraling downward slide. We ended up so far from the hostel it was necessary to find a cab to get back, and we were given the tourist “discount” (a mere 500 Koruna!) to travel the mile and a half back. The next day we took it easy, did some tourist junk and caught the over-night train to Krakow, Poland.
Krakow, Poland:
The train was something out of an Agatha Christie novel all the way down to the seedy train operator and impending sense of doom. It was an experience...that much is certain and despite having a sleeper cabin, not much sleep was had between the three of us. No, not like that...perv. We didn't have much of an agenda and not much happened while we were in Krakow except the obligatory trip to Auschwitz. The entire reason we went to Krakow was because of Auschwitz and it may have been the most psychologically and emotionally powerful place I've been to in my entire life. There is no need to re-hash the details, but I will say this: if you ever have the opportunity or means to go...do it. You will never be the same. It is my opinion that every single person should be required to go and see this place because you will never interpret your life the same again. Whether you were personally affected by what happened at this hellish place or not, it will alter you in one way or another. Definitely a must in my book.
Other than Auschwitz, we had the required food staples: Polish sausage, perogies, and vodka. Being as picky an eater as I am, it was food heaven...you can't get much better than kielbasa, meat and potato filled perogies and bread. It gives me half-stock just thinking about it...
Barcelona, Spain:
Last night at 11:30PM, we landed at London-Stansted airport to weather one would normally expect from London: cold and rainy. Normally this wouldn't be a big issue as those who have been around this city for an extended period of time would know it's inevitable, but I had just flown in from Barcelona where it was an incredibly amazing mid-nineties and sunny every day. Three glorious days where I saw the sun in its full force for the first time in eight or nine months. Barcelona was just about everything you could expect from it: superb weather, great food and drink, and many relaxing hours on the beach. The events in Barca would take an entire post in itself, so again, the highlights:
I met up with friends from here and one of their friends from the US on Wednesday (they had been there since Monday) and we undertook the prerequisite bar crawl. Again, I won't go into many details (mostly because I don't remember, although I believe Rufus made an appearance again), but there were many bars, many drinks, many laughs and more embarrassing dancing than I would care to admit. The night ended with a long walk back to the hostel after most of my party were yelling at the crawl organizer for not taking us to the amount of bars he promised (he took us to four...and four were promised, for the record) while he was slinking into a cab. The two girls were staying at a swanky hotel on the beach while the two guys were at a seedy hostel in the city, so we walked the girls to a common meeting place (the backward statue of Columbus) and sent them on their beach journey while we stumbled back to the hostel. As we were walking up La Rambla, on three separate occasions, the hoards of prostitutes walking the streets decided to take their chances and see if I was desperate enough to get herpegohnasyphiaids and hand over some precious monopoly money. Sorry ladies...it wouldn't happen even if you paid me. Just a few blocks later and I was able to melt into my bed for the next 10 hours, attempting to ward off the inevitable headache and/or hangover.
The next day, we met up with the ladies and had a nice quiet day on the beach. Well...quiet isn't exactly the word. Literally every three to five seconds this was heard a few feet from where we were laying: “beer, cerveza, fanta, co-cola, co-cola light” or “massage?” by what seemed like hundreds of “vendors” walking the beach trying to make a quick euro. Fuck. You. Stop ruining my beach experience with your senseless chatter.
The night wasn't much better. We met for dinner (which was nice) and then went down to the beach where apparently the entire city of Barcelona met and set off obnoxious fireworks while getting loaded. Yes...normally it would sound like a pretty sweet time, but I was not in the mood for it and literally hundreds of thousands of people + alcohol + fireworks + me = not good. We walked the entire length of the beach (while one member of our party had her hands to her ears the entire time) and afterward, said our “see you laters” and made the walk back amid the firework blasts that sound oddly like gunfire. The only solace of the night was we were far enough from the beach where the fireworks didn't cost me any sleep, but that may have just been because I was so tired from the heat and walking a few miles that day.
The next and final day in Barcelona consisted of typical touristy crap, trying to kill time till the flight left at 10PM. After a long day of walking, we made it to the airport, waited, made the flight to London and discovered the cold and rain. Another lovely night in London...
Well, that's just about all I have on this today – it was a bit longer than I wanted, but if you made it this far down, thanks for reading and as always, any questions/comments/etc, go ahead and put them where you see fit.
Anyway, other than the family trip, things have been fairly hectic for me as well. After finding out the work offer had been revoked (I swear, the last time I'll mention it), I started my own job search with a frantic quality only seen in meth addicts. In the last few weeks, I have secured my very own recruiter based in Chicago and New York, my bosses have massaged a few leads (also in those cities), I have acquired a UBS lead in Chicago, applications/resumes/CVs have been feverishly sent to nearly thirty jobs in about a half dozen companies in four or five cities in the States. As you would probably expect, I have yet to hear from anyone regarding an interview or even the slightest interest in my services. Insert the normal excuses about the job market, timing, relocation costs, etc...but I do realize I have a few months here still and shouldn't really be worried too much..at least not yet. But the word “yet.”
Lets get away from the boring job stuff now and talk about something more fun...or at least what I would consider fun. The last few weeks have seen me in more different countries than probably the last 8 months combined, which is nice and also annoying at the same time. It may sound strange, but I'm not really the biggest fan of traveling...at all. It just seems more of a hassle than anything and I enjoy my comforts of home entirely too much to leave them very often. However, as I now only have a limited time over here, I feel like I have to take advantage of it by going as many places as possible in the next few weeks before the job search consumes my entire thought process. As a result, a few weeks ago I went to Poland and the Czech Republic over a long bank holiday weekend and last night I just returned from Spain. A few highlights of each place:
Prague, CZ: I was in both Prague and Krakow for a few days over the last bank holiday weekend with two of my flatmates, Art and Brian. We left on a Thursday afternoon getting into Prague around 10PM. Upon arrival of the hostel, we discover there is a bar located on the ground floor where we sampled the local offerings almost immediately. Another member of our program had been in Prague for a day earlier and we met up with him near the bar area. About a half hour later, Brian was scanning the bar when he turns to Art and me and says he recognizes a few of the girls from the end of the bar. Turns out, a few girls he went to college with in Texas were randomly in Prague the same weekend we were and two of them are doing a study abroad program for a master's type degree, or maybe the CZ equivalent. Naturally, we end up meeting them at another bar later on where all kinds of madness ensues, especially since the Czech Koruna is an extremely weak currency compared to the British Pound, meaning a beer at a higher end bar/club is about the equivalent of a pound and a half. Madness indeed...
The next night we partake in a bar crawl which starts at our hostel, takes us to one of the same bars we were at the night before along with three others. On the crawl, we meet a multitude of people, many being from the US on vacation. Side note: casual readers of this blog who may not know me personally might not know what happens sometimes when I have a bit too much to drink. I have what I call an alter-ego named Rufus who kind of takes over my psyche under certain circumstances and generally speaking...it can be quite interesting. Rufus has his own back story that completely differs from mine and there are quite a few people around the Bowling Green and London areas that know me only as Rufus. It's almost like split-personality disorder, except I know it happens and allow it...does that make sense? Eh...who cares, nobody's listening.
Anyway, there was a particular person on this bar crawl that made it known she graduated from Penn State. It was at that moment that Rufus decided he graduated from the University of Michigan and took it upon himself to completely belittle and destroy this woman's Alma Mater and the opinion she held it in. Don't ask me why...it's just kind of what he does. Safe to say she's not a fan, but that will happen. Aside from this woman coming up and repeating the same sentence about fifty times (“I really enjoyed my college experience”), the night proved to be extremely fun. The last club on the bar crawl was a five-story joint right on the river which supposedly had a different vibe and type of music on each level. Needless to say, I didn't stay very long as it's not exactly what could be considered my “scene.” On the way out, we caught up with one of the crawl tour guides named Yon (not too sure on the spelling) and he decided we shouldn't be done just yet. He proceeded to take a small group of us to four additional places (all of which I couldn't find again if I were paid) which sent the night into a spiraling downward slide. We ended up so far from the hostel it was necessary to find a cab to get back, and we were given the tourist “discount” (a mere 500 Koruna!) to travel the mile and a half back. The next day we took it easy, did some tourist junk and caught the over-night train to Krakow, Poland.
Krakow, Poland:
The train was something out of an Agatha Christie novel all the way down to the seedy train operator and impending sense of doom. It was an experience...that much is certain and despite having a sleeper cabin, not much sleep was had between the three of us. No, not like that...perv. We didn't have much of an agenda and not much happened while we were in Krakow except the obligatory trip to Auschwitz. The entire reason we went to Krakow was because of Auschwitz and it may have been the most psychologically and emotionally powerful place I've been to in my entire life. There is no need to re-hash the details, but I will say this: if you ever have the opportunity or means to go...do it. You will never be the same. It is my opinion that every single person should be required to go and see this place because you will never interpret your life the same again. Whether you were personally affected by what happened at this hellish place or not, it will alter you in one way or another. Definitely a must in my book.
Other than Auschwitz, we had the required food staples: Polish sausage, perogies, and vodka. Being as picky an eater as I am, it was food heaven...you can't get much better than kielbasa, meat and potato filled perogies and bread. It gives me half-stock just thinking about it...
Barcelona, Spain:
Last night at 11:30PM, we landed at London-Stansted airport to weather one would normally expect from London: cold and rainy. Normally this wouldn't be a big issue as those who have been around this city for an extended period of time would know it's inevitable, but I had just flown in from Barcelona where it was an incredibly amazing mid-nineties and sunny every day. Three glorious days where I saw the sun in its full force for the first time in eight or nine months. Barcelona was just about everything you could expect from it: superb weather, great food and drink, and many relaxing hours on the beach. The events in Barca would take an entire post in itself, so again, the highlights:
I met up with friends from here and one of their friends from the US on Wednesday (they had been there since Monday) and we undertook the prerequisite bar crawl. Again, I won't go into many details (mostly because I don't remember, although I believe Rufus made an appearance again), but there were many bars, many drinks, many laughs and more embarrassing dancing than I would care to admit. The night ended with a long walk back to the hostel after most of my party were yelling at the crawl organizer for not taking us to the amount of bars he promised (he took us to four...and four were promised, for the record) while he was slinking into a cab. The two girls were staying at a swanky hotel on the beach while the two guys were at a seedy hostel in the city, so we walked the girls to a common meeting place (the backward statue of Columbus) and sent them on their beach journey while we stumbled back to the hostel. As we were walking up La Rambla, on three separate occasions, the hoards of prostitutes walking the streets decided to take their chances and see if I was desperate enough to get herpegohnasyphiaids and hand over some precious monopoly money. Sorry ladies...it wouldn't happen even if you paid me. Just a few blocks later and I was able to melt into my bed for the next 10 hours, attempting to ward off the inevitable headache and/or hangover.
The next day, we met up with the ladies and had a nice quiet day on the beach. Well...quiet isn't exactly the word. Literally every three to five seconds this was heard a few feet from where we were laying: “beer, cerveza, fanta, co-cola, co-cola light” or “massage?” by what seemed like hundreds of “vendors” walking the beach trying to make a quick euro. Fuck. You. Stop ruining my beach experience with your senseless chatter.
The night wasn't much better. We met for dinner (which was nice) and then went down to the beach where apparently the entire city of Barcelona met and set off obnoxious fireworks while getting loaded. Yes...normally it would sound like a pretty sweet time, but I was not in the mood for it and literally hundreds of thousands of people + alcohol + fireworks + me = not good. We walked the entire length of the beach (while one member of our party had her hands to her ears the entire time) and afterward, said our “see you laters” and made the walk back amid the firework blasts that sound oddly like gunfire. The only solace of the night was we were far enough from the beach where the fireworks didn't cost me any sleep, but that may have just been because I was so tired from the heat and walking a few miles that day.
The next and final day in Barcelona consisted of typical touristy crap, trying to kill time till the flight left at 10PM. After a long day of walking, we made it to the airport, waited, made the flight to London and discovered the cold and rain. Another lovely night in London...
Well, that's just about all I have on this today – it was a bit longer than I wanted, but if you made it this far down, thanks for reading and as always, any questions/comments/etc, go ahead and put them where you see fit.
Friday, June 3, 2011
The Final Chapter...and the VanAusdale Clan Comes to London!
Well, here we are everyone, the final chapter in “Justin is a whiny bitch” is finally here. This is the last time I will be writing about the permanent position in London because a final decision has been made...and I know it's a final decision because I'm not the one making it. So here we are: the end. I know, I know...it's about damn time, but you really should know better by now known to stop reading ages ago.
Some of you have heard this story since it happened a few weeks ago and I've been too busy to broadcast it to the world, but for those of you who haven't heard, here it is. Those of you who have heard it...tough shit, read it again. A few weeks ago, I was sitting in my work area, minding my own business and toiling away at yet another work day when I get an email notification from one of my bosses for a “catch up” meeting. As soon as I saw the notification, I knew exactly what it was about: they finally figured out their end of the visa/job situation and this was the meeting that settled once and for all if I was staying in London or leaving for some unknown part of the US.
So, as I sat there over the next 27 hours wondering what the outcome would be, contemplating my unknown options, I John Kerry'd the fuck out of the decision as is my usual style. I went from being certain I would be taking the offer if there was one, to being certain I would decline, to completely indifferent on the situation as a whole, and back to just seeing what would happen and taking it from there. Pretty much the last 3 months worth of thoughts and worry just rehashed in a shorter amount of time.
Turns out, it was all for naught as they said what I had been expecting for months: the visa would be impossible to get and therefore, I would not have the option to stay anymore. They offered their apologies, blah blah blah, and I didn't have to be the bad guy and tell them I was having second thoughts about staying. Basically, it worked out for the best because it would not come down to me making a decision. The decision was made for me and I'm happy with how it happened because I'm a little bitch who can't get his mind right enough to make a final choice. Regardless, I now get the added benefit of them taking the blame for the situation, so they'll be helping me get a job somewhere in the States with UBS should I decide to go that route. Turns out everything I wrote and the hours I spent agonizing about this decision were all for nothing...but it can always be worse. So, congratulations, USA, I'm coming back to stay after all. I'm sure you'll all agree with me when I say I'm glad this whole fucking mess is behind me. No more talk about this...I'm done.
Now that we're all done with that, the news of the hour is the VanAusdale clan is currently at the Columbus airport about to make their way across the Atlantic (notice, I did not use the bullshit cliché saying that EVERYONE makes...it's tired...let it go) to visit for the week in London. If everyone makes it out of here alive, I'll be truly shocked. All six of us in one city for 10 days in VERY close quarters is going to take its toll on all involved. I'm certain we'll all be glad to get back to our regular lives after this time is over.
The last time we had a family vacation, it was July of last year consisting of visits to Philly, New York city, Boston, and Niagara Falls (USA side). Lets just say tempers flared just a tad during that week and we were all glad to get back to normal life and some kind of solitude. Now add the mental mindfuck of international travel, the complications of a different currency, one of the most expensive cities in the world, and everyone being completely out of their comfort zone and I'm fairly certain we can expect frequent and more spectacular fireworks this time around. It will be an interesting week, that much is certain.
Now, don't get me wrong. As regular readers of this shitstorm I call a blog will know, I'm a big fan of my family. However, we are all very strong willed individuals, fairly argumentative, and quite bull-headed in our opinions especially when we know someone else has one that differs from ours. So, I offer a metaphor of sorts: picture a gigantic barrel of dynamite with six sticks of varying amounts of gunpowder (does dynamite have gunpowder? It does now...) and different lengths of fuses. London is the match that has been thrown into the barrel and at some point, one or more of those sticks will ignite and blow everyone to smithereens. It is a fact...this I promise you. Once the explosions are done, we can then examine the fallout, pick up any survivors, and start repairing the damage.
And now, we have a live update, breaking news, if you will...holy shit, this is my first live blog. History in the making, everyone! I have just been informed their flight from Columbus to Newark has been delayed by 30 minutes which gives them a stout 10 minutes to catch the connecting flight to London. This is the equivalent of pouring a gallon of gasoline into the aforementioned barrel and chucking an old school vampire search party torch in there for good measure. One can only hope their seats on the flight aren't booked next to each other, otherwise we may have a new record for vacation temper explosions.
So, in case you're wondering, (I'm sure you're not, but you're reading this far down, so you kind of have to finish...sucker!) the events for the week are as follows:
Saturday: Flight (tentatively) arrives around 10AM GMT, then check-in at the accommodation and probably a light day, just checking out some of the bigger touristy areas downtown.
Sunday: Potentially going on a hop-on hop-off bus tour of the major sights.
Monday: No plans as of yet (this is a trend), but hopefully something like St. Paul's cathedral or checking out Churchill’s War Rooms.
Tuesday: Train to Windsor for Windsor castle and more tourist crap.
Wednesday: Free day, potentially going to a concert, but nothing set in stone.
Thursday: Stafford/Stoke-on-Trent to see some family heritage stuff. We even have our own local tour guide!
Friday: Free day, potentially another concert (Escape the Fate) at the Underground Garage and if not, hitting the town with the brothers.
Saturday: Most likely taking it easy, tourist stuff again since the flight leaves early Sunday morning.
Sunday: Flight leaves at 1PM GMT, arriving in the States at around 3PM. Grocery shopping for me, more travel for everyone else, then driving back to their respective residences thanking christ they're still alive and kicking.
Monday: Back to work...with a smile on my face.
This is long enough for now, but in other news, I just got back from a trip to Eastern Europe to Krakow, Poland and Prague, Czech Republic. If I get bored, I'll write up a detailed report on the happenings...it was a pretty interesting trip, and definitely one of the best I've gone on thus far.
Until then...you know the deal...any questions – leave them in the comments.
Some of you have heard this story since it happened a few weeks ago and I've been too busy to broadcast it to the world, but for those of you who haven't heard, here it is. Those of you who have heard it...tough shit, read it again. A few weeks ago, I was sitting in my work area, minding my own business and toiling away at yet another work day when I get an email notification from one of my bosses for a “catch up” meeting. As soon as I saw the notification, I knew exactly what it was about: they finally figured out their end of the visa/job situation and this was the meeting that settled once and for all if I was staying in London or leaving for some unknown part of the US.
So, as I sat there over the next 27 hours wondering what the outcome would be, contemplating my unknown options, I John Kerry'd the fuck out of the decision as is my usual style. I went from being certain I would be taking the offer if there was one, to being certain I would decline, to completely indifferent on the situation as a whole, and back to just seeing what would happen and taking it from there. Pretty much the last 3 months worth of thoughts and worry just rehashed in a shorter amount of time.
Turns out, it was all for naught as they said what I had been expecting for months: the visa would be impossible to get and therefore, I would not have the option to stay anymore. They offered their apologies, blah blah blah, and I didn't have to be the bad guy and tell them I was having second thoughts about staying. Basically, it worked out for the best because it would not come down to me making a decision. The decision was made for me and I'm happy with how it happened because I'm a little bitch who can't get his mind right enough to make a final choice. Regardless, I now get the added benefit of them taking the blame for the situation, so they'll be helping me get a job somewhere in the States with UBS should I decide to go that route. Turns out everything I wrote and the hours I spent agonizing about this decision were all for nothing...but it can always be worse. So, congratulations, USA, I'm coming back to stay after all. I'm sure you'll all agree with me when I say I'm glad this whole fucking mess is behind me. No more talk about this...I'm done.
Now that we're all done with that, the news of the hour is the VanAusdale clan is currently at the Columbus airport about to make their way across the Atlantic (notice, I did not use the bullshit cliché saying that EVERYONE makes...it's tired...let it go) to visit for the week in London. If everyone makes it out of here alive, I'll be truly shocked. All six of us in one city for 10 days in VERY close quarters is going to take its toll on all involved. I'm certain we'll all be glad to get back to our regular lives after this time is over.
The last time we had a family vacation, it was July of last year consisting of visits to Philly, New York city, Boston, and Niagara Falls (USA side). Lets just say tempers flared just a tad during that week and we were all glad to get back to normal life and some kind of solitude. Now add the mental mindfuck of international travel, the complications of a different currency, one of the most expensive cities in the world, and everyone being completely out of their comfort zone and I'm fairly certain we can expect frequent and more spectacular fireworks this time around. It will be an interesting week, that much is certain.
Now, don't get me wrong. As regular readers of this shitstorm I call a blog will know, I'm a big fan of my family. However, we are all very strong willed individuals, fairly argumentative, and quite bull-headed in our opinions especially when we know someone else has one that differs from ours. So, I offer a metaphor of sorts: picture a gigantic barrel of dynamite with six sticks of varying amounts of gunpowder (does dynamite have gunpowder? It does now...) and different lengths of fuses. London is the match that has been thrown into the barrel and at some point, one or more of those sticks will ignite and blow everyone to smithereens. It is a fact...this I promise you. Once the explosions are done, we can then examine the fallout, pick up any survivors, and start repairing the damage.
And now, we have a live update, breaking news, if you will...holy shit, this is my first live blog. History in the making, everyone! I have just been informed their flight from Columbus to Newark has been delayed by 30 minutes which gives them a stout 10 minutes to catch the connecting flight to London. This is the equivalent of pouring a gallon of gasoline into the aforementioned barrel and chucking an old school vampire search party torch in there for good measure. One can only hope their seats on the flight aren't booked next to each other, otherwise we may have a new record for vacation temper explosions.
So, in case you're wondering, (I'm sure you're not, but you're reading this far down, so you kind of have to finish...sucker!) the events for the week are as follows:
Saturday: Flight (tentatively) arrives around 10AM GMT, then check-in at the accommodation and probably a light day, just checking out some of the bigger touristy areas downtown.
Sunday: Potentially going on a hop-on hop-off bus tour of the major sights.
Monday: No plans as of yet (this is a trend), but hopefully something like St. Paul's cathedral or checking out Churchill’s War Rooms.
Tuesday: Train to Windsor for Windsor castle and more tourist crap.
Wednesday: Free day, potentially going to a concert, but nothing set in stone.
Thursday: Stafford/Stoke-on-Trent to see some family heritage stuff. We even have our own local tour guide!
Friday: Free day, potentially another concert (Escape the Fate) at the Underground Garage and if not, hitting the town with the brothers.
Saturday: Most likely taking it easy, tourist stuff again since the flight leaves early Sunday morning.
Sunday: Flight leaves at 1PM GMT, arriving in the States at around 3PM. Grocery shopping for me, more travel for everyone else, then driving back to their respective residences thanking christ they're still alive and kicking.
Monday: Back to work...with a smile on my face.
This is long enough for now, but in other news, I just got back from a trip to Eastern Europe to Krakow, Poland and Prague, Czech Republic. If I get bored, I'll write up a detailed report on the happenings...it was a pretty interesting trip, and definitely one of the best I've gone on thus far.
Until then...you know the deal...any questions – leave them in the comments.
Friday, March 11, 2011
If You're Going to Read This, Don't Bother
Let me start by saying I'm not sure where this will end. I don't have a real topic, I just feel like writing...so here goes. Unfortunately, the fact that I feel like writing does not mean I feel like writing the bullshit essay I have due for pretend school in a few days, it just means I'm going to ramble for what will probably seem like an eternity. Also, instead of taking a snapshot of my brain and splattering it on this computer screen, I probably should be sleeping, or at least attempting to sleep. However, that's the thing about sleep or at least pretending to sleep: when you have an endless supply of questions with no answers and scenarios with no resolutions gunning through your head at a thousand miles an hour on a daily basis, sleep is nearly impossible. In fact, I can pinpoint down to the exact week the last time I slept through the night with zero interruptions...and the only reason I did is because I was so exhausted it would have taken a marching band playing at full volume in my room to keep me awake for more than five seconds after hitting the bed.
I'm not sure this entry will ever see the light of day (let's face it...you're goddamn right I'm gonna post it, but let me just pretend for a moment) and I'm fairly certain it will have a bit of a different feel since I'm not in a very “humorous” mood...if what I normally write can be considered humorous in the first place. Basically, this post exists just so I can try and sleep tonight because I'm tired of thinking about things that I've spent the last month talking about and beating to death a few dozen times. Maybe if I get it out on paper it will help clear the cobwebs...but I highly doubt it. Also, there are only so many times you can repeat the same things to the same people before it gets to the point where they will literally choose razorblades to the eyeballs as a preferred activity to speaking to you about so-called problems. So, instead of torturing them with the same issue I've been wrestling with for far too fucking long, you get to hear it instead. How lucky for you!
The specific situation at hand is one which a multitude of people would probably kill to have and really wouldn't consider it a situation or problem at all. In fact, if this same scenario were proposed to any of a few million people who fit a certain demographic, they would probably karate chop my groinal area for even considering it a problem, let alone having to think about it or to even potentially turning it down. I think I've strung this along as far as possible, so without much further ado, the “problem” I have is introduced as follows: I have been offered a permanent position at UBS in London, UK by my direct line manager.
Yes, yes...I know, please refrain from the curses and childish name calling...like I stated above, any person in their right mind would not hesitate to accept straight away...but there are so many aspects to consider prior to actually accepting, which we'll get to in the tenth or eleventh page of this post, but for now, I suppose I should give some details on how this happened. A few weeks ago, the boss and I were having a fairly generic, casual conversation about the specifics on how I was hired in at UBS in the first place when out of nowhere she asks what I plan on doing when my year is completed in the UK. I have thought for some time that a permanent position might be offered at one point or another, but never really seriously considered it. Everything I had heard from previous interns made it fairly obvious it wasn't really that reasonable to expect, especially given the status of the bank and visa considerations. However, I had given it some vague thought just for the “what if” factor, and for a long time, I never thought I could actually go through with it for a multitude of reasons, the biggest being I wasn't sure I could handle living in a foreign country for an extended period of time or in this case, indefinitely. My response to her question of my future plans was probably typical of any other intern: potentially looking for jobs in a major city in the US, a la New York, Chicago, and/or San Francisco. Then she dropped the bomb: would I consider staying in London once the year was up? She's a tricky one to read and therefore I don't usually attempt as it can sometimes go horribly wrong, especially in a work situation, so direct questions usually work best. Can I consider this an offer? Deadpan – straight in the eye – yes.
Fuck.
Like I said, she's a tricky one...and totally caught me off guard. I told her I'll have to think about it and will let her know when I can. She says she wants to know by the end of the week...this is a Tuesday...not a lot of time to consider, right? Turns out there is a very good reason for the hurry. Fast forward to Friday, the boss brings the whole team into an impromptu meeting in which she informs us she is resigning in three weeks to travel for about six months with the husband. Ahh...now it all is starting to make sense...cobwebs from the last 3 days are starting to clear out...the timing sucks and is very hurried, but I now get it.
So here I am: over the last few weeks I've told a few people from the States and have spoken to some extensively about this as well as quite a few people here, including my entire team. The consensus: while there has been some hesitation from a few from home, and rightly so, I would be a fucking idiot to turn this down. I like to think I'm not an idiot...so for now I'm going to take this like a normal person would take a new relationship...very slowly. I'm not committing to a damn thing without numbers in front of me coupled with a hard offer. Let's take this to the next step: yes, I am interested, so formulate a formal offer and we'll see how it looks and take it from there. So, that being the case, I have a one-to-one meeting with the executive director of my team (he's kind of a big deal) to determine what the next steps will be and what I can expect over the coming months.
Now, the specific issues at hand:
1. Can I live on my own in a city of six million plus people in a foreign country knowing only a handful of people within my work and only a few that will be staying after the program year ends?
Yes. No issues here...I think we're all familiar with my outlook on other people (not that big a fan), so it's really not an issue. I am completely fine with retreating back to my hermit ways as long as I have a room to myself. I will know enough people where if I want to head out on the town, I can with little issue. But if I don't want to go out? Nobody will be pressuring me to cross my self-imposed boundaries.
2. Can I be thousands of miles away from family and friends from home for an indefinite period of time?
Here's where it starts getting tricky. Indefinite? No...fuck no. A defined period of time is entirely different. A few more years would certainly be manageable, but any longer and I'm not convinced I would be able to handle it. Most of you know my family is much more than just a word to me. As much as I can sometimes be annoyed by the little things that go along with the family experience, I couldn't ask for or create a better family situation. I'll be a little sentimental here and say I consider myself infinitely lucky to be a part of the family I have (I know...most people say the same, but this is my blog, dammit...and my family is so much better than yours because I said so...deal with it).
On one hand, my parents have never been anything less than 100% supportive of anything I decided I wanted to try as a profession or hobby. Normally this wouldn't be that big of a stretch for parents, but some of my choices have been questionable at best: musician and professional poker player are two of the more radical choices I've made in the past. Regardless of the potential stigma, they were beyond supportive of my decisions and proved it by purchasing guitars, amps, microphones, PA equipment, personally booking shows for the band, providing a space to practice, teaching me card games, talking strategy, talking over bad beats, talking me off the ledge when losing significant amounts of money, etc. I'm lucky...and I know it...and I'm extremely thankful...and I definitely don't express it enough.
On the other hand, my brothers are not just my brothers, they're my best friends as well. I don't know what I would do without their unwavering support and everything they've done for me as long as I can remember. They have been my band-mates, my sounding boards, my poker buddies, my crying posts, and everything in-between. A person could not ask for a better family...and I cannot be convinced otherwise. Like I said...I'm lucky...and I know it. Being away from my family would be one of the most difficult parts of staying here if it came down to it.
As far as friends from home are concerned, I've said this a few times to quite a few people, but if there's one thing I've learned over the last seven months, it's now much easier to determine who my friends are. I have made myself infinitely accessible for any and every person to contact me from the town where I used to store all my shit and there are few who have taken the initiative in keeping in contact. There are only so many times you can send messages via myriads of platforms with no response before you give up. I realize people are busy...I'm exhaustively busy myself...but it is quite evident there are certain people who make an effort over those who don't. Before you go and throw a pity party for me, know that it doesn't bother me in the least, I just have a better understanding on who I can count on and who I can't.
3. There isn't really a 3 – I went over the biggies...the only other stuff is trivial such as where to live, how much money I'll make, etc. Essentially it comes down to one thing: is it acceptable to be selfish to improve my professional situation when personal situations will suffer because of it? I don't know the answer to this question. A few months ago I had a pretty good idea what I was going to do when I was done over here...but even the best made plans can be thrown into disarray when the circumstances change. As of now, it's a wait and see game...wait until the meeting with the ED and see what he says can happen. Unfortunately, I won't have any answers for myself or anyone else until after that meeting regardless of how much I want them. I would kill for a preview of my future to see which way I should go, but unfortunately life doesn't quite work that way. One thing I can say for sure is it's gonna be an interesting ride...
As always, any comments or questions are encouraged and I'll do my best to respond. Also, my apologies for boring you if you actually got this far down...I promise I'll try to make the next post a little more cheerful...
I'm not sure this entry will ever see the light of day (let's face it...you're goddamn right I'm gonna post it, but let me just pretend for a moment) and I'm fairly certain it will have a bit of a different feel since I'm not in a very “humorous” mood...if what I normally write can be considered humorous in the first place. Basically, this post exists just so I can try and sleep tonight because I'm tired of thinking about things that I've spent the last month talking about and beating to death a few dozen times. Maybe if I get it out on paper it will help clear the cobwebs...but I highly doubt it. Also, there are only so many times you can repeat the same things to the same people before it gets to the point where they will literally choose razorblades to the eyeballs as a preferred activity to speaking to you about so-called problems. So, instead of torturing them with the same issue I've been wrestling with for far too fucking long, you get to hear it instead. How lucky for you!
The specific situation at hand is one which a multitude of people would probably kill to have and really wouldn't consider it a situation or problem at all. In fact, if this same scenario were proposed to any of a few million people who fit a certain demographic, they would probably karate chop my groinal area for even considering it a problem, let alone having to think about it or to even potentially turning it down. I think I've strung this along as far as possible, so without much further ado, the “problem” I have is introduced as follows: I have been offered a permanent position at UBS in London, UK by my direct line manager.
Yes, yes...I know, please refrain from the curses and childish name calling...like I stated above, any person in their right mind would not hesitate to accept straight away...but there are so many aspects to consider prior to actually accepting, which we'll get to in the tenth or eleventh page of this post, but for now, I suppose I should give some details on how this happened. A few weeks ago, the boss and I were having a fairly generic, casual conversation about the specifics on how I was hired in at UBS in the first place when out of nowhere she asks what I plan on doing when my year is completed in the UK. I have thought for some time that a permanent position might be offered at one point or another, but never really seriously considered it. Everything I had heard from previous interns made it fairly obvious it wasn't really that reasonable to expect, especially given the status of the bank and visa considerations. However, I had given it some vague thought just for the “what if” factor, and for a long time, I never thought I could actually go through with it for a multitude of reasons, the biggest being I wasn't sure I could handle living in a foreign country for an extended period of time or in this case, indefinitely. My response to her question of my future plans was probably typical of any other intern: potentially looking for jobs in a major city in the US, a la New York, Chicago, and/or San Francisco. Then she dropped the bomb: would I consider staying in London once the year was up? She's a tricky one to read and therefore I don't usually attempt as it can sometimes go horribly wrong, especially in a work situation, so direct questions usually work best. Can I consider this an offer? Deadpan – straight in the eye – yes.
Fuck.
Like I said, she's a tricky one...and totally caught me off guard. I told her I'll have to think about it and will let her know when I can. She says she wants to know by the end of the week...this is a Tuesday...not a lot of time to consider, right? Turns out there is a very good reason for the hurry. Fast forward to Friday, the boss brings the whole team into an impromptu meeting in which she informs us she is resigning in three weeks to travel for about six months with the husband. Ahh...now it all is starting to make sense...cobwebs from the last 3 days are starting to clear out...the timing sucks and is very hurried, but I now get it.
So here I am: over the last few weeks I've told a few people from the States and have spoken to some extensively about this as well as quite a few people here, including my entire team. The consensus: while there has been some hesitation from a few from home, and rightly so, I would be a fucking idiot to turn this down. I like to think I'm not an idiot...so for now I'm going to take this like a normal person would take a new relationship...very slowly. I'm not committing to a damn thing without numbers in front of me coupled with a hard offer. Let's take this to the next step: yes, I am interested, so formulate a formal offer and we'll see how it looks and take it from there. So, that being the case, I have a one-to-one meeting with the executive director of my team (he's kind of a big deal) to determine what the next steps will be and what I can expect over the coming months.
Now, the specific issues at hand:
1. Can I live on my own in a city of six million plus people in a foreign country knowing only a handful of people within my work and only a few that will be staying after the program year ends?
Yes. No issues here...I think we're all familiar with my outlook on other people (not that big a fan), so it's really not an issue. I am completely fine with retreating back to my hermit ways as long as I have a room to myself. I will know enough people where if I want to head out on the town, I can with little issue. But if I don't want to go out? Nobody will be pressuring me to cross my self-imposed boundaries.
2. Can I be thousands of miles away from family and friends from home for an indefinite period of time?
Here's where it starts getting tricky. Indefinite? No...fuck no. A defined period of time is entirely different. A few more years would certainly be manageable, but any longer and I'm not convinced I would be able to handle it. Most of you know my family is much more than just a word to me. As much as I can sometimes be annoyed by the little things that go along with the family experience, I couldn't ask for or create a better family situation. I'll be a little sentimental here and say I consider myself infinitely lucky to be a part of the family I have (I know...most people say the same, but this is my blog, dammit...and my family is so much better than yours because I said so...deal with it).
On one hand, my parents have never been anything less than 100% supportive of anything I decided I wanted to try as a profession or hobby. Normally this wouldn't be that big of a stretch for parents, but some of my choices have been questionable at best: musician and professional poker player are two of the more radical choices I've made in the past. Regardless of the potential stigma, they were beyond supportive of my decisions and proved it by purchasing guitars, amps, microphones, PA equipment, personally booking shows for the band, providing a space to practice, teaching me card games, talking strategy, talking over bad beats, talking me off the ledge when losing significant amounts of money, etc. I'm lucky...and I know it...and I'm extremely thankful...and I definitely don't express it enough.
On the other hand, my brothers are not just my brothers, they're my best friends as well. I don't know what I would do without their unwavering support and everything they've done for me as long as I can remember. They have been my band-mates, my sounding boards, my poker buddies, my crying posts, and everything in-between. A person could not ask for a better family...and I cannot be convinced otherwise. Like I said...I'm lucky...and I know it. Being away from my family would be one of the most difficult parts of staying here if it came down to it.
As far as friends from home are concerned, I've said this a few times to quite a few people, but if there's one thing I've learned over the last seven months, it's now much easier to determine who my friends are. I have made myself infinitely accessible for any and every person to contact me from the town where I used to store all my shit and there are few who have taken the initiative in keeping in contact. There are only so many times you can send messages via myriads of platforms with no response before you give up. I realize people are busy...I'm exhaustively busy myself...but it is quite evident there are certain people who make an effort over those who don't. Before you go and throw a pity party for me, know that it doesn't bother me in the least, I just have a better understanding on who I can count on and who I can't.
3. There isn't really a 3 – I went over the biggies...the only other stuff is trivial such as where to live, how much money I'll make, etc. Essentially it comes down to one thing: is it acceptable to be selfish to improve my professional situation when personal situations will suffer because of it? I don't know the answer to this question. A few months ago I had a pretty good idea what I was going to do when I was done over here...but even the best made plans can be thrown into disarray when the circumstances change. As of now, it's a wait and see game...wait until the meeting with the ED and see what he says can happen. Unfortunately, I won't have any answers for myself or anyone else until after that meeting regardless of how much I want them. I would kill for a preview of my future to see which way I should go, but unfortunately life doesn't quite work that way. One thing I can say for sure is it's gonna be an interesting ride...
As always, any comments or questions are encouraged and I'll do my best to respond. Also, my apologies for boring you if you actually got this far down...I promise I'll try to make the next post a little more cheerful...
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Top 5 Things that Piss Me Off About London
OK, so this was originally intended to be a sports related blog (inspired by my brother's), but I soon realized a few things:
1. I don't know enough about sports for this to be entertaining in the long run which negates the whole purpose of a blog that's supposed to be enjoyable to write while also being enjoyable to read.
2. Given #1, I wouldn't be able to come up with enough ideas to even write on a semi-regular basis which would eventually turn it into a chore as opposed to something that is supposed to be fun.
3. There are about 14,323,328 sports blogs out there (probably a low estimate), so really I would just be rehashing the same ideas that everyone else is talking and writing about. I have no interest in reading the same thing multiple times, so once again, the original intention really is not that interesting.
So here's the deal from here on out: I will only write when I feel like it, which hopefully is more often than before since it's been almost a solid year since my last post, I am going to write about any and everything that comes to mind, and most of you will probably disagree with what I say (still holding true to the original title), especially since there will probably only be 3 people who actually read it.
In order to start things off easy, I'm going to steal an idea from a few different places and give a top 5 list. Maybe this will be a reoccurring theme, maybe it won't, but just to get back into the swing of things, here goes.
Today's topic: Top 5 things that piss me off about London in no particular order.
1. I'm sure this is no different than any other major city in the world, but I've never lived in a major city before so it's new to me. Most people bitch about traffic since almost everyone has to drive to work these days. Since I live so close to where I work and since I don't have a car here, I walk to work everyday (about a 20 minute walk). Generally speaking, I'm trying to get to where I'm going as fast as humanly possible, so I carry a pretty fast gait in order to achieve that goal. In a city with around five million people, I tend to pass people on the sidewalk pretty regularly when walking in the same direction. Most of the time, this is not a big deal but there are times (generally three to four times a day) when there's a group of two or more people effectively dominating the entire sidewalk and walking much slower than I am and are completely oblivious to the fact that someone is behind them trying to get where they're going quickly. Just like a nice walk in the park for them while I'm absolutely fuming inside trying to figure out a way around them without touching them or getting run over in the street.
Most people would not not have an issue with this happening occasionally and I would tend to agree. However, once this happens a few hundred times, I have a huge issue with it. The only thing keeping me from giving them a forearm shiver to the back while muttering “get the fuck out of my way” is the knowledge that they wouldn't deserve that kind of reaction. It's not the specific people that are pissing me off to the point where the above actions would be acceptable, but the combined fury from the other encounters with similar situations. Maybe one day it will boil over and I'll lose my mind for a few seconds leading to said forearm shiver, but for now I think it's under control. To be continued...
2. Since we're on the subject of walking, I have another trend I've noticed. I do a lot of walking. A lot. At minimum 3 miles a day. Maybe it's another one of those things I don't understand since I'm from a small town, but one of the more annoying scenarios I've noticed is nobody moves out of the way when there is plenty of room to let someone pass instead of taking up the entire space by walking in the middle of the sidewalk. By walking in the middle of the sidewalk and not moving, it effectively gives me about a foot and a half on either side with which to work with. This usually leads to four options: hope there's no oncoming traffic and go into the street, brush up against a building while king shit walks by, “accidentally” bump into the sidewalk kid while walking by (never a wise option), or simply stop and make him choose. The fourth option never usually works since he's either oblivious or too self-important to notice anyone else walking and bumps into you. What usually happens in this situation is I try and morph my body into positions that cannot possibly be good for it in order to not touch this person as I'm walking by. Apparently I'm the only person in the entire city that can either pay attention to their surroundings or actually cares enough to make room for a person to walk by untouched. Side note that kind of explains the above: I don't particularly like being touched, especially by random people I don't know.
3. Our internet provider is a company called Pogolink. Pogolink is complete and utter shit. I've dealt with a lot of internet companies over the years and this is by far the worst I've encountered. First, our internet is limited to 2,000 minutes (fine, I get it, not a big deal) and 1.5 gigs a week. 1.5 gigs...yes...1.5 gigs. I could use that amount of data in a few hours, let alone forcing it to last an entire week. At first, the limitations were horrible, but just like anything else, you get used to it and it becomes just another thing. What really pisses me off about this company other than the limitations is the actual quality of the service. We are forced to log in to use the internet, which makes sense since we have the limits on the personal accounts. Most nights it's a miracle if a connection exists and even if it does exist, that doesn't necessarily mean it will work. Even if a connection exists and it works, it doesn't necessarily mean it will be a good connection. This makes for a very frustrating internet experience. In order to log a problem with the service, we need internet. How can we log a problem with the service if the internet doesn't work? In order to log off correctly, we need the internet to work. How can we log off if the internet service does not even recognize its own domain? I say again...Pogolink is complete and utter shit.
4. Since we're on the subject of internet, mobile internet is another interesting topic. I kept my Blackberry from the US (fuckin' Verizon...that's a whole other situation) and unlocked it to use in the UK so I wouldn't have to buy another phone. Part of my phone plan is obviously mobile internet but they have a “fair-use” policy on almost all carriers which limits mobile internet to either 750mb, 500mb, or 100mb per month. The plan I use limits my internet to 100mb per month (because I'm cheap and probably also because I didn't get that great of a deal) and thus forces me to be very prudent with what I use my phone for in any given month. This means no Pandora (irrelevant because Pandora does not work in the UK), no YouTube, making sure my program downloads are necessary, and keeping browsing to a minimum. Rationing mobile internet isn't as fun as 1,348 other things I could be doing, but unfortunately necessary since most of my communications are made through the mobile internet. Another issue (which could also be my own fault) is the service. I don't have 3G, but instead have GPRS (which is essentially 2.5G) because when I originally purchased my sim, I was unaware I needed to specify I wanted a 3G sim. It can be rectified, but as with everything relating to internet, I need to be careful. My phone is working now (it was a pain in the ass to get it to work) and I'm afraid if I screw with it, it will stop working. Not something I want to have to deal with if it happens. So for now...I guess I just have to suck it up or get some stones and make the changes.
5. As most of you probably know, I'm not what anyone would call a “morning person.” My work schedule forces me to wake up at 7am each morning in order to get to work on time. I knew this would happen eventually, but I hate it. If I could work a 10-7, I would absolutely love it. Since I also require between 7 and 9 hours of sleep to function correctly, this forces me to go to bed around 11pm each night, effectively turning me into a grandfather. Every night I tell myself to go to bed at 1030 (seriously!?) but 1130 rolls around and I'm usually still awake like an idiot. Sure, also my own fault, but I enjoy staying up late...I guess this is growing up. This is not even close to being related, but the weather is awful here. London isn't supposed to have that much snow (which would be awesome if it were actually the case) but just last week they had a few inches (which is a few inches too much). Also, it isn't supposed to get very cold here (supposed to hover around 32 degrees) but it had been in the 20s for much of the previous week. As many of you also know, I hate cold and I hate snow. Cold, snow, and walking a ton do not mix. Sure, I'm from Ohio so I should be used to it, but as my roommate said last week: “I don't care where you're from, cold is cold. And this is cold.”
So there you go, first installment of what may eventually turn into a series of blog posts on whatever I feel like posting and writing about at the time. If anyone has any specific questions about anything In London, go ahead and ask and I'll do my best to answer. Other than that...until next time...
1. I don't know enough about sports for this to be entertaining in the long run which negates the whole purpose of a blog that's supposed to be enjoyable to write while also being enjoyable to read.
2. Given #1, I wouldn't be able to come up with enough ideas to even write on a semi-regular basis which would eventually turn it into a chore as opposed to something that is supposed to be fun.
3. There are about 14,323,328 sports blogs out there (probably a low estimate), so really I would just be rehashing the same ideas that everyone else is talking and writing about. I have no interest in reading the same thing multiple times, so once again, the original intention really is not that interesting.
So here's the deal from here on out: I will only write when I feel like it, which hopefully is more often than before since it's been almost a solid year since my last post, I am going to write about any and everything that comes to mind, and most of you will probably disagree with what I say (still holding true to the original title), especially since there will probably only be 3 people who actually read it.
In order to start things off easy, I'm going to steal an idea from a few different places and give a top 5 list. Maybe this will be a reoccurring theme, maybe it won't, but just to get back into the swing of things, here goes.
Today's topic: Top 5 things that piss me off about London in no particular order.
1. I'm sure this is no different than any other major city in the world, but I've never lived in a major city before so it's new to me. Most people bitch about traffic since almost everyone has to drive to work these days. Since I live so close to where I work and since I don't have a car here, I walk to work everyday (about a 20 minute walk). Generally speaking, I'm trying to get to where I'm going as fast as humanly possible, so I carry a pretty fast gait in order to achieve that goal. In a city with around five million people, I tend to pass people on the sidewalk pretty regularly when walking in the same direction. Most of the time, this is not a big deal but there are times (generally three to four times a day) when there's a group of two or more people effectively dominating the entire sidewalk and walking much slower than I am and are completely oblivious to the fact that someone is behind them trying to get where they're going quickly. Just like a nice walk in the park for them while I'm absolutely fuming inside trying to figure out a way around them without touching them or getting run over in the street.
Most people would not not have an issue with this happening occasionally and I would tend to agree. However, once this happens a few hundred times, I have a huge issue with it. The only thing keeping me from giving them a forearm shiver to the back while muttering “get the fuck out of my way” is the knowledge that they wouldn't deserve that kind of reaction. It's not the specific people that are pissing me off to the point where the above actions would be acceptable, but the combined fury from the other encounters with similar situations. Maybe one day it will boil over and I'll lose my mind for a few seconds leading to said forearm shiver, but for now I think it's under control. To be continued...
2. Since we're on the subject of walking, I have another trend I've noticed. I do a lot of walking. A lot. At minimum 3 miles a day. Maybe it's another one of those things I don't understand since I'm from a small town, but one of the more annoying scenarios I've noticed is nobody moves out of the way when there is plenty of room to let someone pass instead of taking up the entire space by walking in the middle of the sidewalk. By walking in the middle of the sidewalk and not moving, it effectively gives me about a foot and a half on either side with which to work with. This usually leads to four options: hope there's no oncoming traffic and go into the street, brush up against a building while king shit walks by, “accidentally” bump into the sidewalk kid while walking by (never a wise option), or simply stop and make him choose. The fourth option never usually works since he's either oblivious or too self-important to notice anyone else walking and bumps into you. What usually happens in this situation is I try and morph my body into positions that cannot possibly be good for it in order to not touch this person as I'm walking by. Apparently I'm the only person in the entire city that can either pay attention to their surroundings or actually cares enough to make room for a person to walk by untouched. Side note that kind of explains the above: I don't particularly like being touched, especially by random people I don't know.
3. Our internet provider is a company called Pogolink. Pogolink is complete and utter shit. I've dealt with a lot of internet companies over the years and this is by far the worst I've encountered. First, our internet is limited to 2,000 minutes (fine, I get it, not a big deal) and 1.5 gigs a week. 1.5 gigs...yes...1.5 gigs. I could use that amount of data in a few hours, let alone forcing it to last an entire week. At first, the limitations were horrible, but just like anything else, you get used to it and it becomes just another thing. What really pisses me off about this company other than the limitations is the actual quality of the service. We are forced to log in to use the internet, which makes sense since we have the limits on the personal accounts. Most nights it's a miracle if a connection exists and even if it does exist, that doesn't necessarily mean it will work. Even if a connection exists and it works, it doesn't necessarily mean it will be a good connection. This makes for a very frustrating internet experience. In order to log a problem with the service, we need internet. How can we log a problem with the service if the internet doesn't work? In order to log off correctly, we need the internet to work. How can we log off if the internet service does not even recognize its own domain? I say again...Pogolink is complete and utter shit.
4. Since we're on the subject of internet, mobile internet is another interesting topic. I kept my Blackberry from the US (fuckin' Verizon...that's a whole other situation) and unlocked it to use in the UK so I wouldn't have to buy another phone. Part of my phone plan is obviously mobile internet but they have a “fair-use” policy on almost all carriers which limits mobile internet to either 750mb, 500mb, or 100mb per month. The plan I use limits my internet to 100mb per month (because I'm cheap and probably also because I didn't get that great of a deal) and thus forces me to be very prudent with what I use my phone for in any given month. This means no Pandora (irrelevant because Pandora does not work in the UK), no YouTube, making sure my program downloads are necessary, and keeping browsing to a minimum. Rationing mobile internet isn't as fun as 1,348 other things I could be doing, but unfortunately necessary since most of my communications are made through the mobile internet. Another issue (which could also be my own fault) is the service. I don't have 3G, but instead have GPRS (which is essentially 2.5G) because when I originally purchased my sim, I was unaware I needed to specify I wanted a 3G sim. It can be rectified, but as with everything relating to internet, I need to be careful. My phone is working now (it was a pain in the ass to get it to work) and I'm afraid if I screw with it, it will stop working. Not something I want to have to deal with if it happens. So for now...I guess I just have to suck it up or get some stones and make the changes.
5. As most of you probably know, I'm not what anyone would call a “morning person.” My work schedule forces me to wake up at 7am each morning in order to get to work on time. I knew this would happen eventually, but I hate it. If I could work a 10-7, I would absolutely love it. Since I also require between 7 and 9 hours of sleep to function correctly, this forces me to go to bed around 11pm each night, effectively turning me into a grandfather. Every night I tell myself to go to bed at 1030 (seriously!?) but 1130 rolls around and I'm usually still awake like an idiot. Sure, also my own fault, but I enjoy staying up late...I guess this is growing up. This is not even close to being related, but the weather is awful here. London isn't supposed to have that much snow (which would be awesome if it were actually the case) but just last week they had a few inches (which is a few inches too much). Also, it isn't supposed to get very cold here (supposed to hover around 32 degrees) but it had been in the 20s for much of the previous week. As many of you also know, I hate cold and I hate snow. Cold, snow, and walking a ton do not mix. Sure, I'm from Ohio so I should be used to it, but as my roommate said last week: “I don't care where you're from, cold is cold. And this is cold.”
So there you go, first installment of what may eventually turn into a series of blog posts on whatever I feel like posting and writing about at the time. If anyone has any specific questions about anything In London, go ahead and ask and I'll do my best to answer. Other than that...until next time...
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