I have noticed my last few entries have been as depressing as hell, so I'm going to try and lighten the mood a bit on this one with a few random things I've noticed over the past few weeks. I'm going to call it “quick hitters” because the stories will hopefully be short and sweet. I think we both know that won't be the case, so you may as well settle in for the long haul here. Without much further ado, here we go with the first installment of quick hitters.
“Icing”
The cultural phenomenon of “icing” might be the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard of in my entire life. In case you're unaware of what it is, “icing” is when someone is handed a Smirnoff Ice alcoholic beverage and as per the social norm, said person must get down on one knee and chug the entire bottle of sugary awfulness. I'm told in some circumstances a salute of some kind must be made while getting diabeetus from this horrible excuse for an adult beverage.
First of all, whoever made up this game needs to get jabbed in the throat because it's just flat out dumb. “Hey, here's a malt beverage almost nobody likes...and you have to drink the whole thing on one knee.” “Umm, dude, that sounds really fucking stupid...why?” “BECAUSE I TOLD YOU TO AND IF YOU DON'T, EVERYONE WILL MAKE FUN OF YOU FOR BEING A BITCH WHO DOESN'T LIKE CHICK DRINKS!” “Yeah, man...I'll pass. Have fun with that, though.”
Second of all, if anyone is ever thinking it would be a fun idea to try this to me, I would advise you to think twice. I will have one of the following reactions to an “icing” attempt:
1. Following in the footsteps of Daniel Tosh, I would find the nearest hard surface, most likely a counter top of some kind, Happy Gilmore the fuck out of the bottle and brandish it wildly until I hit skin, preferably the tiny bit covering one of your major arteries. Next time you'll know better.
2. If I'm not feeling particularly homicidal, I would simply say “Yeah, no thanks...that game is fucking lame” and walk away.
“Icing” is stupid. Please, for the love of all things sacred, let this frat game die. Don't let them win...remember kids, whenever you fall victim to a fratty game, Chad Kroeger makes more money, and therefore thinks he needs to release more shitty music. Think of the children, please.
Bathroom Etiquette
Sorry, ladies...this section is aimed more toward the men in the audience as I know nothing of bathroom etiquette in the ladies side of the crowd. Although it may humor you to hear the lengths we as a species go to avoid another penis, so by all means, read on.
A little background information: the bathroom at my workplace has three urinals and six stalls. Clearly, there's a lot of shitting going on at work, especially since most of the time nearly all the stalls are fully occupied. Since work's version of TP has a similar feeling to a heavy gritted sandpaper, I try to do most of my business at home and stick to a strict #1 only policy at the office. With this being the case, I pay a lot of attention to proper bathroom etiquette when it comes to the urinals. A few days ago, I walked into the bathroom, business as usual, and noticed the only person at the urinal station was occupying the middle position. I did not notice anyone leaving as I was entering, so I came to the conclusion this person must have chosen the middle position of his own accord. Later that same day as I was washing up from another successful visit, someone else was faced with an empty trio of urinals. He chose the middle position again. This is highly unacceptable in all social groups and settings, therefore I felt like questioning this person at length to see why he was blatantly breaking the most basic of bathroom rules.
As a measure of transparency, here are the rules as I understand them when it comes to bathroom etiquette for those who are unaware:
When confronted with an odd number of urinal stations:
-Always leave one station between you and another patron.
-If, for example, there are three stations and the outer two are occupied, use the nearest stall. If a stall is unavailable, wait until one of the outer stations or a stall is available.
When confronted with an even number of urinal stations:
-If there are two and no suitable divider is installed, same rules apply as above.
-If there are two and there is a suitable divider, both may be used freely.
-If there are four or more, leave a gap or use a stall.
The only times when it is acceptable to use all available stalls/troughs in the bathroom:
-Sporting events
-Bars
So once I saw the blatant disregard for the rules, all I wanted to do was take that fucker by the back of the neck and slam his head into the wall in front of him, all while screaming “see! You see the consequences of fucking with the rules!? Next time you'll know better, you fucking prick.” I think I may have some anger issues to work on...
British Cars
Today when I was walking back from the gym, I noticed that most British cars are stick shift, which makes them inherently better than their American counterparts. I'm not sure what brought on my curiosity, but it did not prevent me from being a huge creeper and peering into every car I passed like George McFly just to check out the gear shaft. Turns out, the winner is stick shift by a wide margin, which means British people are just flat out better drivers than Americans. Here's a short social survey you can put out there: ask your American family, friends, co-workers, etc. if they know how to drive a manual car and most of them will give a look like you just finger blasted their pet. “Why would I need to drive a manual car when they have perfectly good ones that do all that shifty stuff for you?” Just seems like more work...and we all know how much Americans love their extra work.
Now, for the few of you who may know any Brits/Europeans, go ahead and ask them the same question. They will most likely look at you like you're an idiot because to them, who doesn't know how to drive a manual car? In this respect, Britons and Europeans have a huge advantage over Americans because stick shift kicks fucking ass to drive. You can literally beat the ever-living shit out of a manual vehicle and it will come back with blood on its mouth begging for more. How do I know this, you ask? You'd never guess, but I used to own a manual car and even though it was a pussy four cylinder Chevy Cavalier, it still had more balls than any car I've owned since. I can't tell you how many times I've peeled out of some floozy's driveway going 40 in 2nd gear and then slapping it right into 4th while cracking 70 in about two seconds. It gives me wood just thinking about it...
The Warm Beer Phenomenon
As many of you know, I was back in the States a few weeks ago and the question I got most, other than “what the fuck are you doing here?” was some derivative of “how's the warm beer over there?”
Now, I'm not disputing the fact that there may be warm beer somewhere in the UK/Europe, but I have yet to encounter it. I've been to my fair share of pubs/bars/clubs and not one had beer that was supposed to be served warm. The closest thing you'll get to that might be a cast beer, but that's just a beer with less carbonation and might be a little warmer than ice cold. I'm really not sure where the rumor started or how it did, but unless I'm going to the wrong places, it holds little merit.
One item of interest regarding warm beverages though: ice is a little used commodity in the UK. The reasoning is simple, really. The less ice you have, the more beverage in your glass. In a country where free refills are few and far between, more of a room temperature beverage is better than less of a cold beverage. I can definitely get behind the minimal ice custom if it means not paying for another drink. Sure, call me cheap...but those fuckers add up, especially when you're on a limited budget.
Well, that's all for now...as usual, any questions – leave them in the comments and I'll answer them when I have a chance. Thanks for reading...
Friday, May 13, 2011
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Snap Decisions...
Ok...here we are. It's been a while since my last entry and a lot has happened since, so I'm going to attempt to bring brass tacks and leave little to the imagination.
This will essentially be the third installment of the saga of my “will Justin stay in the UK after his bullshit internship is over in August” story. As you have read previously, I was offered a job to stay and I have been wrestling with the idea of staying or leaving once my year is over. I have previously mentioned I would be a complete fucking moron for leaving this offer on the table, as I still think might be valid, but based on the current circumstances, things have changed. As far as I am aware, the offer is still on the table, but new items have come to light, specifically the visa requirements and my own salary needs.
First things first: visa restrictions have been established where it is near impossible to continue to work in the UK without being a resident. I understand the requirements as unemployment is at an all-time high and they would prefer jobs to go to residents rather than assholes such as myself. Another consideration is the salary requirement I would need. In order to work and live here beyond this year, I would need to be paid far beyond what anyone in the industry would consider fair. The normal starting salary for my position is not enough for me to live comfortably and also be able to pay all bills, etc. on time. It just isn't possible. This is one of the things I never fully considered when thinking this was possible in the first place. Maybe it was based on over-confidence, or thinking they need me more than I need them, etc. but the fact remains, my potential offer will be less than I will need to live comfortably, or at the very least able to pay all bills and attempt to live with just a little money left over.
Now...when it was first presented to me, I was fully on board. I was there...no questions asked, I'm there. After a few months of thinking about it, the novelty has worn off. I think I was caught up in the “new-ness” of the whole thing, thinking it was cool that someone thought enough of me to offer a job to stay without thinking of the long-term effects. Granted, most of the people I talked to were all for me staying and confirming my thought of being a complete fuck if I were to turn it down...which helped at first. However, eventually I came to the realization that I don't really want to stay and it was all just hype based on the original offer.
It took quite a bit to convince myself I didn't really want to stay when I was previously entirely committed to it. Essentially, this is what it came down to: I went back to Ohio for a week, saw people I haven't for a few months, etc. It ended up being a pretty good week as a whole, but once I was back in London, things were different. Saving you from complete boredom, my decision came to this: I was waiting for a friend of mine to let me in to Tower 3 at Ability Towers when I saw a few of the new intake of interns speaking freely and making it obvious they were new to the program. After it became exceedingly obvious they were in the new intake, I thought to myself “wow...they're new and they have the entire year in front of them...fuck...that really blows for them.”
Given my thoughts on the situation, how can I possibly expect myself to stay after the year has ended when I feel sorry for those who have just one more year left? I can't...therefore I cannot, in good conscience allow myself to stay beyond August. Which means I need to let my bosses know I have to decline any offer they may still have outstanding so they can offer it to another intern or give another full time position in my place.
I've been thinking of writing this for a few days now and I had a lot more I wanted to say, but a lot of it has fallen away because it's really not that important. The fact is, a job was offered, I wanted it...thought about it...and then decided it wasn't for me. That's it. Now, I have to decide what location is best for me, and that will be exceedingly difficult. It means choosing between multiple locations including Chicago, IL, Charlotte, NC, Raleigh, NC, Jacksonville, FL, San Francisco CA, Los Angeles, CA, Phoenix, AZ and Northwest Ohio, among others. I don't know what I'll choose and I don't know what will come of whatever I choose, but I do know whatever I do choose will be interesting and I look forward to starting a new life when I leave here.
Until then...
This will essentially be the third installment of the saga of my “will Justin stay in the UK after his bullshit internship is over in August” story. As you have read previously, I was offered a job to stay and I have been wrestling with the idea of staying or leaving once my year is over. I have previously mentioned I would be a complete fucking moron for leaving this offer on the table, as I still think might be valid, but based on the current circumstances, things have changed. As far as I am aware, the offer is still on the table, but new items have come to light, specifically the visa requirements and my own salary needs.
First things first: visa restrictions have been established where it is near impossible to continue to work in the UK without being a resident. I understand the requirements as unemployment is at an all-time high and they would prefer jobs to go to residents rather than assholes such as myself. Another consideration is the salary requirement I would need. In order to work and live here beyond this year, I would need to be paid far beyond what anyone in the industry would consider fair. The normal starting salary for my position is not enough for me to live comfortably and also be able to pay all bills, etc. on time. It just isn't possible. This is one of the things I never fully considered when thinking this was possible in the first place. Maybe it was based on over-confidence, or thinking they need me more than I need them, etc. but the fact remains, my potential offer will be less than I will need to live comfortably, or at the very least able to pay all bills and attempt to live with just a little money left over.
Now...when it was first presented to me, I was fully on board. I was there...no questions asked, I'm there. After a few months of thinking about it, the novelty has worn off. I think I was caught up in the “new-ness” of the whole thing, thinking it was cool that someone thought enough of me to offer a job to stay without thinking of the long-term effects. Granted, most of the people I talked to were all for me staying and confirming my thought of being a complete fuck if I were to turn it down...which helped at first. However, eventually I came to the realization that I don't really want to stay and it was all just hype based on the original offer.
It took quite a bit to convince myself I didn't really want to stay when I was previously entirely committed to it. Essentially, this is what it came down to: I went back to Ohio for a week, saw people I haven't for a few months, etc. It ended up being a pretty good week as a whole, but once I was back in London, things were different. Saving you from complete boredom, my decision came to this: I was waiting for a friend of mine to let me in to Tower 3 at Ability Towers when I saw a few of the new intake of interns speaking freely and making it obvious they were new to the program. After it became exceedingly obvious they were in the new intake, I thought to myself “wow...they're new and they have the entire year in front of them...fuck...that really blows for them.”
Given my thoughts on the situation, how can I possibly expect myself to stay after the year has ended when I feel sorry for those who have just one more year left? I can't...therefore I cannot, in good conscience allow myself to stay beyond August. Which means I need to let my bosses know I have to decline any offer they may still have outstanding so they can offer it to another intern or give another full time position in my place.
I've been thinking of writing this for a few days now and I had a lot more I wanted to say, but a lot of it has fallen away because it's really not that important. The fact is, a job was offered, I wanted it...thought about it...and then decided it wasn't for me. That's it. Now, I have to decide what location is best for me, and that will be exceedingly difficult. It means choosing between multiple locations including Chicago, IL, Charlotte, NC, Raleigh, NC, Jacksonville, FL, San Francisco CA, Los Angeles, CA, Phoenix, AZ and Northwest Ohio, among others. I don't know what I'll choose and I don't know what will come of whatever I choose, but I do know whatever I do choose will be interesting and I look forward to starting a new life when I leave here.
Until then...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Sneaky Beers, Anyone?
Hello friends...it's been a while, no? Let's go ahead and give this another chapter, shall we? Like it or not, you have no choice...
Since I last left you, I had been contemplating on if I should take this job that was “offered” or not. Well...as I'm sure you can imagine, circumstances have changed...on their end and on mine. Let's focus on their end first since my end is a bit too much for me to handle right now and I don't want to even begin to contemplate the options. I think that's better for all involved at this point.
Anyway – back to the issue at hand. Nearly a month ago I wrote a post that was entirely too long and disgustingly boring (probably both happening here as well, suppose you're used to that already) outlining my situation. In a nutshell: job was offered to stay in London for the foreseeable future and it was up to me to take or leave. I did neither. I said I was interested and to give me all the info possible and only then could I actually make a decision whether to stay or not. I have no additional hard information, only information that makes it seem as though I have slightly misunderstood the situation.
Shortly after my then boss made it known she would like me to stay after my initial year, I was to be on holiday since my brother Jared and our friend Nick were coming to my humble abode to slum it for a week. Without going into too much detail (I'm sure either Jared or I have gone into entirely too much to anyone actually reading this), it was a really fun week and I'm really glad they took the time out to make it out to visit. So once they made their way back States-side, I unfortunately (or fortunately) had to go back to work the day after they left. Once I was back, I was informed our work group had radically changed and we were now reporting to a different executive director and would be moved to a new group entirely. At the time, I was so overwhelmed by the amount of work I was supposed to be catching up on, I wasn't able to give it much though. Only after a day or so was I able to sit back, breathe for a second and actually wonder what the fuck it actually meant for my situation.
My question was answered a few days later: it meant nothing as far as I was concerned. Well...according to my boss, it meant nothing. A few days after the news was given, the higher-ups met with the new ED and my situation was discussed. According to the boss, the new ED was/is on board with keeping me past the year and is working on getting things in line. Call me skeptical, but I'm not buying it. Yes, stranger things have happened, but all I've heard for the past month is how difficult it is to get a work visa for the UK. If this is the case (I have no reason to deny), I have my doubts about the sincerity of the offer as it stands especially since they would be wasting this sacred piece of clearance on a small-time intern from operations. It seems as though they should be reserving these documents for people of some higher importance than I can bring to the table...but again – stranger things have happened.
I am a terrible story teller – my apologies, but I need a bit of a rewind. Prior to my holiday, I was asked to set up a meeting with our now former ED for a “catch up” which essentially means an informal review given a few times a year. This guy is pretty high up and for someone like me to get a one-to-one with him is pretty rare, so of course I was obliged to set it up. I originally took it as a kind of impromptu interview for my potential new position, which was somewhat confirmed by my now former boss. OK – rewind over. The meeting was set for today at 3PM. These meetings usually go a little something like this: meeting scheduled for 3PM, reminder goes off at 2:45, 2:55 and 3PM on the dot. Around 3:05, a chat message pops up from the person you're supposed to be meeting with asking if the arrangement is still necessary and also where this massive waste of their time is taking place. 2:45 hits and I get my first reminder about the meeting. I start to prepare myself for the inevitable chat message and attempt to find my meeting partner on the company chat program. I search for his first name and cannot find it among the results. OK...I've seen this before...guess I'll just have to search for the last name. The search comes up with zero results...hmm...interesting. Quick question for the boss...”hey – is Ian (that's not his real name) still with the company?” “No – why? Did you still have that meeting?” Awesome...
Now I have zero idea what to expect. I have a few predictions though...well – just one, really. They forget about everything. They forget I'm sitting here waiting for someone to say something, waiting for someone to let me know what's going on, waiting for anything...and I'm just going to sit and wait too. At this point, I'm fine with the waiting game because I don't think anything will really come of it anyway. There are times when I wish they would just come out with it and say they've redacted the offer because they simply don't have the room to keep me on or have the visa to waste. I'm waiting for it...I'm expecting it...then again – I've never been the most positive person in the world, so it's really not a new thought process. My expectations for them: nothing happens and I leave mid-August for a job in the States I've secured on my own with no help from anyone, which is just as well since I would prefer to do it myself anyway.
I'm still going to leave my end alone because I don't know what's going to happen and would rather try to take things on as they come to me. I know it isn't going to work like that, but I'm going to try my best to let it. We all have certain expectations on how things will work out, but it rarely goes the way we want. I do want my expectations to work...and the only way I can think to have it happen that way is to not do anything, just let it all fall the way it will. Generally, everything has a strange way of working out in the end regardless of what we do or what we prefer...so that's what I'm doing – I'm going to let things happen and do my best to not worry about the fallout. Yes...that's all you're getting...yes, I know - I suck...
As always – any questions, I'll do my best.
Since I last left you, I had been contemplating on if I should take this job that was “offered” or not. Well...as I'm sure you can imagine, circumstances have changed...on their end and on mine. Let's focus on their end first since my end is a bit too much for me to handle right now and I don't want to even begin to contemplate the options. I think that's better for all involved at this point.
Anyway – back to the issue at hand. Nearly a month ago I wrote a post that was entirely too long and disgustingly boring (probably both happening here as well, suppose you're used to that already) outlining my situation. In a nutshell: job was offered to stay in London for the foreseeable future and it was up to me to take or leave. I did neither. I said I was interested and to give me all the info possible and only then could I actually make a decision whether to stay or not. I have no additional hard information, only information that makes it seem as though I have slightly misunderstood the situation.
Shortly after my then boss made it known she would like me to stay after my initial year, I was to be on holiday since my brother Jared and our friend Nick were coming to my humble abode to slum it for a week. Without going into too much detail (I'm sure either Jared or I have gone into entirely too much to anyone actually reading this), it was a really fun week and I'm really glad they took the time out to make it out to visit. So once they made their way back States-side, I unfortunately (or fortunately) had to go back to work the day after they left. Once I was back, I was informed our work group had radically changed and we were now reporting to a different executive director and would be moved to a new group entirely. At the time, I was so overwhelmed by the amount of work I was supposed to be catching up on, I wasn't able to give it much though. Only after a day or so was I able to sit back, breathe for a second and actually wonder what the fuck it actually meant for my situation.
My question was answered a few days later: it meant nothing as far as I was concerned. Well...according to my boss, it meant nothing. A few days after the news was given, the higher-ups met with the new ED and my situation was discussed. According to the boss, the new ED was/is on board with keeping me past the year and is working on getting things in line. Call me skeptical, but I'm not buying it. Yes, stranger things have happened, but all I've heard for the past month is how difficult it is to get a work visa for the UK. If this is the case (I have no reason to deny), I have my doubts about the sincerity of the offer as it stands especially since they would be wasting this sacred piece of clearance on a small-time intern from operations. It seems as though they should be reserving these documents for people of some higher importance than I can bring to the table...but again – stranger things have happened.
I am a terrible story teller – my apologies, but I need a bit of a rewind. Prior to my holiday, I was asked to set up a meeting with our now former ED for a “catch up” which essentially means an informal review given a few times a year. This guy is pretty high up and for someone like me to get a one-to-one with him is pretty rare, so of course I was obliged to set it up. I originally took it as a kind of impromptu interview for my potential new position, which was somewhat confirmed by my now former boss. OK – rewind over. The meeting was set for today at 3PM. These meetings usually go a little something like this: meeting scheduled for 3PM, reminder goes off at 2:45, 2:55 and 3PM on the dot. Around 3:05, a chat message pops up from the person you're supposed to be meeting with asking if the arrangement is still necessary and also where this massive waste of their time is taking place. 2:45 hits and I get my first reminder about the meeting. I start to prepare myself for the inevitable chat message and attempt to find my meeting partner on the company chat program. I search for his first name and cannot find it among the results. OK...I've seen this before...guess I'll just have to search for the last name. The search comes up with zero results...hmm...interesting. Quick question for the boss...”hey – is Ian (that's not his real name) still with the company?” “No – why? Did you still have that meeting?” Awesome...
Now I have zero idea what to expect. I have a few predictions though...well – just one, really. They forget about everything. They forget I'm sitting here waiting for someone to say something, waiting for someone to let me know what's going on, waiting for anything...and I'm just going to sit and wait too. At this point, I'm fine with the waiting game because I don't think anything will really come of it anyway. There are times when I wish they would just come out with it and say they've redacted the offer because they simply don't have the room to keep me on or have the visa to waste. I'm waiting for it...I'm expecting it...then again – I've never been the most positive person in the world, so it's really not a new thought process. My expectations for them: nothing happens and I leave mid-August for a job in the States I've secured on my own with no help from anyone, which is just as well since I would prefer to do it myself anyway.
I'm still going to leave my end alone because I don't know what's going to happen and would rather try to take things on as they come to me. I know it isn't going to work like that, but I'm going to try my best to let it. We all have certain expectations on how things will work out, but it rarely goes the way we want. I do want my expectations to work...and the only way I can think to have it happen that way is to not do anything, just let it all fall the way it will. Generally, everything has a strange way of working out in the end regardless of what we do or what we prefer...so that's what I'm doing – I'm going to let things happen and do my best to not worry about the fallout. Yes...that's all you're getting...yes, I know - I suck...
As always – any questions, I'll do my best.
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...
Monday, February 28, 2011
Learning Lessons With Ryan Air
I had been planning on writing this particular entry for a little over a week now, but simply couldn't seem to find the time to get it out. However, since I'm out sick from work today (thanks to bitchin' multiple-day migraines and little aliens in my stomach (think Spaceballs) courtesy of possible food poisoning) and really don't foresee myself leaving this bed for the next 5 plus hours, let's go ahead and give it a shot now.
Ryan Air can go eat a bowl full of dirty, diseased assholes. A mere single encounter with this cheap fuck of a company is all it takes to avoid it at all costs in the future. If I can help it, I will never fly with them again even if it means paying more for my flights. Now, those of you who have dealt with them in the past will be nodding your head furiously right now, but for those of you who have no idea who Ryan Air is, the following story should help put the pieces together for you.
A few months ago, my brother Jared and our friend Nick decided they may want to grace me with their presence over here in London for a multi-day trip in March. March means a lot of things to a lot of people, but for some of us, March means St. Patrick's day. What country is just a short flight west from London? IRELAND! So, as soon as they mentioned March as a possibility, I immediately thought “how bad ass would it be to spend St. Patty's in Dublin this year?” I don't care what you're doing for St. Patrick's day...if you go to Dublin, you win. Vegas? New Orleans? Chicago? Yes, that would be a lot of fun and I'm sure it would be very memorable, but those locations do not hold a candle to spending it in Ireland. I really don't mean to brag...but it's going to be beyond awesome...actually, I do mean to brag. Sorry. The next few months found me forcefully pushing this opinion on Jared and Nick because if I'm only gonna be here for a year, there's no effin' way I'm missing St. Patty's in Dublin...even if I have to drag them with me. After a few months of persistent badgering, they relented (I mean, come on...no brainer here) and I started making plans.
Here's where it gets interesting...and also where my fury with Ryan Air begins. Now, let me preface this with a gigantic “I'm a huge moron/idiot/imbecile/stupid SOB” because this was my fault to begin with, but this company certainly did not help the situation at all. I did my due diligence regarding places to stay, flights, sight-seeing, bars, pubs, and all the similar stuff and started to make bookings. So I booked our flights (all three since it just would be easier to have it all on one card) and hotel for March 16th – 17th. Anyone see the problem here? St. Patrick's day is March 17th, not the 16th. Yes, I am a complete and total dumb ass for not double and triple checking the dates...and I take complete responsibility for that dumbassery. Now here's where you would say “why don't you just use the tickets as they are and leave Dublin the night of the 17th instead of the 18th?” I would normally agree with you and it wouldn't be that big of an inconvenience since we would technically be there for the day in question. However, Jared and Nick are arriving late evening on the 16th and our flights for Dublin are booked for early afternoon on the same day. So unless you have a close personal relationship with Doc Brown, I'm gonna have to make some other arrangements.
The best part of this entire thing is I had both the flights and the hotel booked for one day earlier than I should have and didn't even realize it until I was typing out an email to the guys with the itinerary attached. I started typing “the 16th,” something clicked in my head and all the sudden it didn't sound right...and I had that sinking feeling in my gut like when you wake up at 9AM on a Monday when work starts at 8. I immediately pulled out my calender to check the dates and right there in black and white on the 16th “Jared and Nick arrive – 9PM.” I'm instantly infuriated at myself for not checking the dates before hitting “submit” on the website, especially Ryan Air, and quickly take steps to try and fix my blunder. The hotel was a non-issue because it seems they understand that plans change and people sometimes make mistakes, so they had a free cancellation policy up to 3 days prior to arrival. Ryan Air? Not so much...
Ryan Air, I find out, has a “no cancellation” policy. Maybe I don't have very much experience with airlines and they might all have the same policy, but I found this to be fairly surprising. Ok, fine – no cancellations, but what about modifications? Yes, they do allow modifications, but I hope you have a lot of room on that credit card because you're gonna be using up most of it. In order to modify a flight, it costs an additional 25 GBP per person, per flight. For those of you keeping score at home, that would be three people modifying six flights in total for a modification fee of 150 GBP. Yes, you read that correctly. In order to change the flights from the 16th to the 17th, it will cost an additional 150. The total cost of the original flights was only 200 GBP for all three combined! Then I had the crazy thought of trying to sell the tickets to someone who might be going on the dates I had already booked if by some crazy coincidence that person existed. Turns out, it costs 100 GBP per person just to change the name on the ticket – so that's out as well. After looking at just about every possible combination of where to fly into or out of on those dates, I have come to the conclusion that I'm fucked and am just gonna have to bite the bullet on this one and swallow a 150 mistake. The only thing that can happen in order to make this a little less of an ass raping is if I can somehow find flights on the correct dates for less than I originally paid, which is about as probable as finding a sunny, non-rainy weekend day in the UK.
Moral of the story? Two-fold: one – don't be a dumb ass and make sure the dates are correct before booking flights. Two – avoid Ryan Air at all costs. After I found out I couldn't cancel the flights and the modification fee was as high as it was, I did a quick Google search and found many of the same sob stories about booking wrong dates, names, etc. There were a few options to try and get a refund or a cancellation from the airline, but none of them worked. The most likely, which I had high hopes for, was calling my bank and try to cancel the transaction before it went through. Unfortunately, this was not to be since apparently debit cards are guaranteed transactions which cannot be canceled once submitted and accepted by the merchant. Who knew?
As of this writing, the entire situation has not been resolved, but I'm going to have to get these flights re-booked pretty quickly and I suppose today would be as good a day as any since I'm bed-ridden for the foreseeable future. Consider me fully Ryan Air educated...and I have definitely paid for it.
As always – any questions? Ask away and I'll do my best to answer.
Ryan Air can go eat a bowl full of dirty, diseased assholes. A mere single encounter with this cheap fuck of a company is all it takes to avoid it at all costs in the future. If I can help it, I will never fly with them again even if it means paying more for my flights. Now, those of you who have dealt with them in the past will be nodding your head furiously right now, but for those of you who have no idea who Ryan Air is, the following story should help put the pieces together for you.
A few months ago, my brother Jared and our friend Nick decided they may want to grace me with their presence over here in London for a multi-day trip in March. March means a lot of things to a lot of people, but for some of us, March means St. Patrick's day. What country is just a short flight west from London? IRELAND! So, as soon as they mentioned March as a possibility, I immediately thought “how bad ass would it be to spend St. Patty's in Dublin this year?” I don't care what you're doing for St. Patrick's day...if you go to Dublin, you win. Vegas? New Orleans? Chicago? Yes, that would be a lot of fun and I'm sure it would be very memorable, but those locations do not hold a candle to spending it in Ireland. I really don't mean to brag...but it's going to be beyond awesome...actually, I do mean to brag. Sorry. The next few months found me forcefully pushing this opinion on Jared and Nick because if I'm only gonna be here for a year, there's no effin' way I'm missing St. Patty's in Dublin...even if I have to drag them with me. After a few months of persistent badgering, they relented (I mean, come on...no brainer here) and I started making plans.
Here's where it gets interesting...and also where my fury with Ryan Air begins. Now, let me preface this with a gigantic “I'm a huge moron/idiot/imbecile/stupid SOB” because this was my fault to begin with, but this company certainly did not help the situation at all. I did my due diligence regarding places to stay, flights, sight-seeing, bars, pubs, and all the similar stuff and started to make bookings. So I booked our flights (all three since it just would be easier to have it all on one card) and hotel for March 16th – 17th. Anyone see the problem here? St. Patrick's day is March 17th, not the 16th. Yes, I am a complete and total dumb ass for not double and triple checking the dates...and I take complete responsibility for that dumbassery. Now here's where you would say “why don't you just use the tickets as they are and leave Dublin the night of the 17th instead of the 18th?” I would normally agree with you and it wouldn't be that big of an inconvenience since we would technically be there for the day in question. However, Jared and Nick are arriving late evening on the 16th and our flights for Dublin are booked for early afternoon on the same day. So unless you have a close personal relationship with Doc Brown, I'm gonna have to make some other arrangements.
The best part of this entire thing is I had both the flights and the hotel booked for one day earlier than I should have and didn't even realize it until I was typing out an email to the guys with the itinerary attached. I started typing “the 16th,” something clicked in my head and all the sudden it didn't sound right...and I had that sinking feeling in my gut like when you wake up at 9AM on a Monday when work starts at 8. I immediately pulled out my calender to check the dates and right there in black and white on the 16th “Jared and Nick arrive – 9PM.” I'm instantly infuriated at myself for not checking the dates before hitting “submit” on the website, especially Ryan Air, and quickly take steps to try and fix my blunder. The hotel was a non-issue because it seems they understand that plans change and people sometimes make mistakes, so they had a free cancellation policy up to 3 days prior to arrival. Ryan Air? Not so much...
Ryan Air, I find out, has a “no cancellation” policy. Maybe I don't have very much experience with airlines and they might all have the same policy, but I found this to be fairly surprising. Ok, fine – no cancellations, but what about modifications? Yes, they do allow modifications, but I hope you have a lot of room on that credit card because you're gonna be using up most of it. In order to modify a flight, it costs an additional 25 GBP per person, per flight. For those of you keeping score at home, that would be three people modifying six flights in total for a modification fee of 150 GBP. Yes, you read that correctly. In order to change the flights from the 16th to the 17th, it will cost an additional 150. The total cost of the original flights was only 200 GBP for all three combined! Then I had the crazy thought of trying to sell the tickets to someone who might be going on the dates I had already booked if by some crazy coincidence that person existed. Turns out, it costs 100 GBP per person just to change the name on the ticket – so that's out as well. After looking at just about every possible combination of where to fly into or out of on those dates, I have come to the conclusion that I'm fucked and am just gonna have to bite the bullet on this one and swallow a 150 mistake. The only thing that can happen in order to make this a little less of an ass raping is if I can somehow find flights on the correct dates for less than I originally paid, which is about as probable as finding a sunny, non-rainy weekend day in the UK.
Moral of the story? Two-fold: one – don't be a dumb ass and make sure the dates are correct before booking flights. Two – avoid Ryan Air at all costs. After I found out I couldn't cancel the flights and the modification fee was as high as it was, I did a quick Google search and found many of the same sob stories about booking wrong dates, names, etc. There were a few options to try and get a refund or a cancellation from the airline, but none of them worked. The most likely, which I had high hopes for, was calling my bank and try to cancel the transaction before it went through. Unfortunately, this was not to be since apparently debit cards are guaranteed transactions which cannot be canceled once submitted and accepted by the merchant. Who knew?
As of this writing, the entire situation has not been resolved, but I'm going to have to get these flights re-booked pretty quickly and I suppose today would be as good a day as any since I'm bed-ridden for the foreseeable future. Consider me fully Ryan Air educated...and I have definitely paid for it.
As always – any questions? Ask away and I'll do my best to answer.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Must be Nice to be a Royal
Have you ever wanted to live in a castle? Here's an easy way to achieve that goal: marry a member of the Royal family. Scratch that, have you ever wanted to have a castle as a vacation house? Now you can marry a member of the Royal family and that dream will be a reality.
Yesterday I went to Windsor to check out Windsor Castle, which is the vacation house of the Royal family and has been for the last 900 years. Some people have time shares in Florida, others own a cottage in Michigan or Colorado for skiing or just to get away from their lives for a weekend every once in a while, and others still have entirely separate families living on both coasts, but unless you're disgustingly, filthy rich, you don't have a castle as your vacation house. By all accounts, the Royal family is rich, but from what I've heard from co-workers, they shouldn't be classified as “disgustingly, filthy rich.” How much money are they worth? I've heard somewhere around three hundred million for the entire family, which yes, sounds like a lot, but that amount of money could potentially be blown in a lifetime. Do you think Bill Gates or Steve Jobs could spend their fortune in their lifetimes? Even if they gave it a good, solid try, I don't think anyone could throw away a few billion like a trailer-trash lottery winner would with a few million.
Granted, my “facts” about the Royal family are not backed up by any real research, just by hearsay coming from co-workers, but they've lived here their entire life and probably know what they're talking about. My question is this: is the three hundred mill their entire net worth including houses and possessions (including all the priceless paintings, tapestries, rugs, china sets, and other furniture/furnishings) that were either bought or stolen over the last few centuries? I read yesterday there are 600 rooms in Buckingham Palace and after my visit a few months ago, I can say with first-hand knowledge that each room is packed to the brim with enough artwork to sustain any person for a lifetime if it were sold (save for that trailer-trash lotto winner, of course), let alone all the other stuff in each room that is worth more than my life. I would guess the furnishings of the houses are not included in the net worth of the Royals just because many of the paintings and pieces of furniture are priceless and just could not have an estimated worth because they will never be for sale.
Either way, if the houses, etc. are added to the net worth of the family or not, I don't believe they are all that rich because three hundred million for a family of that stature and longevity should conceivably be worth as much or more than any individual in the world. Since they're not even billionaires, they're not in the same discussion as the Gates', Jobs', or even the Waltons. Even a low-level dumb-ass prince in Saudi is probably worth more than England's entire Royal family.
I'm getting off topic...wait – there's a topic? Yes, albeit a loose topic which seems to be jumping all over the place. The point is: it must be nice to be a Royal. I spent 15 pounds to walk around and take a tour of someone's vacation house yesterday, WITH a student discount. It just so happens that “someone” is the Queen of England. I wasn't the only one either, the place was packed with people wanting to look at all the stuff this place housed. It has to be expensive to keep it running with all the guards, employees, curators, decorators, etc. not to mention utility bills, so I understand having to charge a fee to check the place out, but the only reason people wanted to see it is because it belongs to the Royal family. Same goes for Buckingham Palace. It's only open for a few months out of the year when the Queen is out of town for official meetings, but those months where it is open to the public, a constant stream of tourists and residents ambush it and pay their money to look at stuff normally only seen in a museum behind bullet proof glass. The difference is, this stuff is actually used on a fairly regular basis, such as a solid silver tea set the Queen uses a few times a year worth a few hundred thousand pounds...would anyone else even consider using it? Highly doubtful. As one would expect, Buckingham Palace is incredibly magnificent and blows Windsor Castle out of the water in all categories. Would I pay my 15 pounds to visit again? Maybe. It's that incredible. The only reason to visit is because it's Royalty related. Would anyone want to pay that amount of money just to check out some rich guy's house? Maybe, but not the volume of people who visit Windsor and Buckingham every year.
Not only do you get to live in awesome houses and look at and own pretty much anything or everything you've ever wanted, but your job is to be Royalty. You have no other responsibility other than don't be a disgrace to the Kingdom and go to charity functions, parades, and live the life of what the public perceives Royalty to be. I know, I know – it's way more complicated than that and it's probably a very stressful life, which explains why Prince William is already going bald. However, I can't help but notice Prince Harry running amok, pretty much doing whatever he pleases with little to no repercussions simply because there is no chance in hell he's ever going to be king. Once the Queen's reign ends, normal succession would be that Prince Charles takes over the crown (even though he should take a pass and hand it down to William instead), rules for a few years, then William takes over and has a reign probably as long as Elizabeth has had. Since Harry is the wild child, he'll probably die from some freak motorcycle or hang-gliding accident and the entire country will mourn, but won't really be that upset because nobody wants him to be king anyway. The crown will then pass to William's eventual child and the country will rejoice because they all love Bill and his choice of wife. I wonder if anyone has the balls to call him Bill or if that's an acceptable nickname? I'll say I would try it, but not only would I never have the chance, I would also chicken out at the last second fearing public beheading.
Speaking of William and his inevitable children, this Royal wedding is being whored out in every direction and everyone is making a huge deal out of it. All kinds of memorabilia is being sold, such as calenders, photo books, kitchen magnets, coffee mugs (complete with photoshopped faces!), and even tea spoons. It reminds me of street vendors in NYC when it started raining heavily on a recent family vacation. The street vendors had umbrellas for sale mere seconds after it started raining trying to capitalize on the stupidity of tourists (and it worked...they made a killing that day). Same goes for souvenir shops all around England now selling all kinds of merchandise related to the Royal wedding. I'm sure it's a big deal because the future king of England is getting married, and maybe because I'm only a visitor I don't understand, but at the end of the day, it's only a wedding. We've all been to weddings...some good, some bad. Granted, this will be one of the largest and most expensive weddings in the history of the world (putting a dent in that meager three hundred million net worth), but it's still only a wedding. One item related to the wedding I am very thankful for is the extra bank holiday we get because they chose a Friday to get married. Thanks William and Kate!
Anyway, that's about all I have to say about the Royal family that won't get me thrown in jail or deported, so we'll just stop there while we're ahead (or even) and call it a day. Regardless of the amount of wealth, it probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be English Royalty. Then again, it probably wouldn't be the best either because of the constant spotlight and criticism. They didn't ask to be born into Royalty, but then again, nobody asks to be born into their current situation, so we deal with it. But that's an entirely different topic for another day...
One last quick story before I go: While we were looking for the entrance to the castle yesterday, we went up to one of the exits where a group of guards were standing holding impressive looking guns (the first time I have seen a gun in England since not even cops carry them) and sporting angry eyebrows. As we approach, the apparent leader separates from the pack and says something along the lines of “Can I help you?” with a shit-eating grin on his face which leads me to believe he actually wanted to say “Can I fucking help you?” I can just see the wheels turning in his head as it is very obvious this guy has had a not-so-great day. “Try something...please, I'm begging you...try to make a run for it or something, I'm just itching to break somebody in half today.” Much to his dismay, we were simply asking for the way to the ticket office so we could enter the castle with no intention of being broken in half. Sorry, lead guard dude...I feel your pain, but I would rather not have you take it out on me...I just want to pay my money and go in like a regular tourist causing no trouble while I'm on your post. Feel free to exercise this frustration on someone else while I'm watching though, that would be some real entertainment and well worth the entrance fee.
Oh, one more thing (I know, annoying...): I saw the changing of the guard at Windsor yesterday and if Buckingham's is anything like this one, I'll pass. It was extraordinarily boring and would really be awful if that was my job and I had to do this everyday while people were watching and taking pictures. OK, I'm done now. Until next time...
Yesterday I went to Windsor to check out Windsor Castle, which is the vacation house of the Royal family and has been for the last 900 years. Some people have time shares in Florida, others own a cottage in Michigan or Colorado for skiing or just to get away from their lives for a weekend every once in a while, and others still have entirely separate families living on both coasts, but unless you're disgustingly, filthy rich, you don't have a castle as your vacation house. By all accounts, the Royal family is rich, but from what I've heard from co-workers, they shouldn't be classified as “disgustingly, filthy rich.” How much money are they worth? I've heard somewhere around three hundred million for the entire family, which yes, sounds like a lot, but that amount of money could potentially be blown in a lifetime. Do you think Bill Gates or Steve Jobs could spend their fortune in their lifetimes? Even if they gave it a good, solid try, I don't think anyone could throw away a few billion like a trailer-trash lottery winner would with a few million.
Granted, my “facts” about the Royal family are not backed up by any real research, just by hearsay coming from co-workers, but they've lived here their entire life and probably know what they're talking about. My question is this: is the three hundred mill their entire net worth including houses and possessions (including all the priceless paintings, tapestries, rugs, china sets, and other furniture/furnishings) that were either bought or stolen over the last few centuries? I read yesterday there are 600 rooms in Buckingham Palace and after my visit a few months ago, I can say with first-hand knowledge that each room is packed to the brim with enough artwork to sustain any person for a lifetime if it were sold (save for that trailer-trash lotto winner, of course), let alone all the other stuff in each room that is worth more than my life. I would guess the furnishings of the houses are not included in the net worth of the Royals just because many of the paintings and pieces of furniture are priceless and just could not have an estimated worth because they will never be for sale.
Either way, if the houses, etc. are added to the net worth of the family or not, I don't believe they are all that rich because three hundred million for a family of that stature and longevity should conceivably be worth as much or more than any individual in the world. Since they're not even billionaires, they're not in the same discussion as the Gates', Jobs', or even the Waltons. Even a low-level dumb-ass prince in Saudi is probably worth more than England's entire Royal family.
I'm getting off topic...wait – there's a topic? Yes, albeit a loose topic which seems to be jumping all over the place. The point is: it must be nice to be a Royal. I spent 15 pounds to walk around and take a tour of someone's vacation house yesterday, WITH a student discount. It just so happens that “someone” is the Queen of England. I wasn't the only one either, the place was packed with people wanting to look at all the stuff this place housed. It has to be expensive to keep it running with all the guards, employees, curators, decorators, etc. not to mention utility bills, so I understand having to charge a fee to check the place out, but the only reason people wanted to see it is because it belongs to the Royal family. Same goes for Buckingham Palace. It's only open for a few months out of the year when the Queen is out of town for official meetings, but those months where it is open to the public, a constant stream of tourists and residents ambush it and pay their money to look at stuff normally only seen in a museum behind bullet proof glass. The difference is, this stuff is actually used on a fairly regular basis, such as a solid silver tea set the Queen uses a few times a year worth a few hundred thousand pounds...would anyone else even consider using it? Highly doubtful. As one would expect, Buckingham Palace is incredibly magnificent and blows Windsor Castle out of the water in all categories. Would I pay my 15 pounds to visit again? Maybe. It's that incredible. The only reason to visit is because it's Royalty related. Would anyone want to pay that amount of money just to check out some rich guy's house? Maybe, but not the volume of people who visit Windsor and Buckingham every year.
Not only do you get to live in awesome houses and look at and own pretty much anything or everything you've ever wanted, but your job is to be Royalty. You have no other responsibility other than don't be a disgrace to the Kingdom and go to charity functions, parades, and live the life of what the public perceives Royalty to be. I know, I know – it's way more complicated than that and it's probably a very stressful life, which explains why Prince William is already going bald. However, I can't help but notice Prince Harry running amok, pretty much doing whatever he pleases with little to no repercussions simply because there is no chance in hell he's ever going to be king. Once the Queen's reign ends, normal succession would be that Prince Charles takes over the crown (even though he should take a pass and hand it down to William instead), rules for a few years, then William takes over and has a reign probably as long as Elizabeth has had. Since Harry is the wild child, he'll probably die from some freak motorcycle or hang-gliding accident and the entire country will mourn, but won't really be that upset because nobody wants him to be king anyway. The crown will then pass to William's eventual child and the country will rejoice because they all love Bill and his choice of wife. I wonder if anyone has the balls to call him Bill or if that's an acceptable nickname? I'll say I would try it, but not only would I never have the chance, I would also chicken out at the last second fearing public beheading.
Speaking of William and his inevitable children, this Royal wedding is being whored out in every direction and everyone is making a huge deal out of it. All kinds of memorabilia is being sold, such as calenders, photo books, kitchen magnets, coffee mugs (complete with photoshopped faces!), and even tea spoons. It reminds me of street vendors in NYC when it started raining heavily on a recent family vacation. The street vendors had umbrellas for sale mere seconds after it started raining trying to capitalize on the stupidity of tourists (and it worked...they made a killing that day). Same goes for souvenir shops all around England now selling all kinds of merchandise related to the Royal wedding. I'm sure it's a big deal because the future king of England is getting married, and maybe because I'm only a visitor I don't understand, but at the end of the day, it's only a wedding. We've all been to weddings...some good, some bad. Granted, this will be one of the largest and most expensive weddings in the history of the world (putting a dent in that meager three hundred million net worth), but it's still only a wedding. One item related to the wedding I am very thankful for is the extra bank holiday we get because they chose a Friday to get married. Thanks William and Kate!
Anyway, that's about all I have to say about the Royal family that won't get me thrown in jail or deported, so we'll just stop there while we're ahead (or even) and call it a day. Regardless of the amount of wealth, it probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be English Royalty. Then again, it probably wouldn't be the best either because of the constant spotlight and criticism. They didn't ask to be born into Royalty, but then again, nobody asks to be born into their current situation, so we deal with it. But that's an entirely different topic for another day...
One last quick story before I go: While we were looking for the entrance to the castle yesterday, we went up to one of the exits where a group of guards were standing holding impressive looking guns (the first time I have seen a gun in England since not even cops carry them) and sporting angry eyebrows. As we approach, the apparent leader separates from the pack and says something along the lines of “Can I help you?” with a shit-eating grin on his face which leads me to believe he actually wanted to say “Can I fucking help you?” I can just see the wheels turning in his head as it is very obvious this guy has had a not-so-great day. “Try something...please, I'm begging you...try to make a run for it or something, I'm just itching to break somebody in half today.” Much to his dismay, we were simply asking for the way to the ticket office so we could enter the castle with no intention of being broken in half. Sorry, lead guard dude...I feel your pain, but I would rather not have you take it out on me...I just want to pay my money and go in like a regular tourist causing no trouble while I'm on your post. Feel free to exercise this frustration on someone else while I'm watching though, that would be some real entertainment and well worth the entrance fee.
Oh, one more thing (I know, annoying...): I saw the changing of the guard at Windsor yesterday and if Buckingham's is anything like this one, I'll pass. It was extraordinarily boring and would really be awful if that was my job and I had to do this everyday while people were watching and taking pictures. OK, I'm done now. Until next time...
Friday, January 21, 2011
I Must Break You
I really should be at the gym right now, but my injured back will not allow me to do what I normally would, so instead of going to the gym and risk further injury, I'll write about it and all the d-bags that go there to do whatever it is they do.
I like the list thing, so let's do that again, OK? Good...you're so agreeable. Top however many things I feel like writing about that annoy the piss out of me at the gym:
1. Nobody gives a fuck about your muscles.
Let me say that again so it sinks in: nobody gives a fuck about your muscles. Nobody except you and potentially anything/anyone you're having consensual sex with, and they don't really care that much. Since nobody cares about your muscles but you, please, for the love of Chris (remember kids, Chris died for your sins...), PLEASE stop flexing in the mirror right after you do a set of whatever exercise you're doing. It makes you look stupid and everyone is making fun of you in their head. This is especially true of the gigantic asshat that does a set of situps and then “wipes his mouth” with the bottom of the t-shirt he's wearing so he can check out his sweet abs in the mirror. It just so happens the t-shirt gets stuck in his mouth while he coincidentally flexes his aforementioned sweet abs. I say again...nobody cares. Also, nobody ever will. If you want to check yourself out, do it like everyone else does and flex to yourself in your bathroom mirror. Obviously the entire reason for working out is to improve the way you look, add a few percentage points to your chances of getting laid, get rid of those man tits, or take a little off the spare tire. However, just like beating off, flexing should be done in the privacy of your own home and should be considered a one person activity.
2. It's not a social club. If you're there, do something, don't walk around aimlessly.
I've been going to the same gym for about 5 months now, and after a while people obviously start to look familiar and their routines are noticed as well. A few months ago, I noticed one kid who never seemed to be doing anything but walk around smiling like he just took a real shit after being constipated for the last 3 weeks. Once while I was doing random activities in a stationary spot, I actually tracked this kid for a solid 20 minutes and all he did was walk laps around the machines while holding a towel and a half empty water bottle. Back and forth...back and forth...kind of like he was scanning a crowd to see if he noticed his buddy waving his hand like a maniac. Or like he was a serial killer quietly scoping out his next kill and we were all none the wiser. Actually, now that I think about it, that might not be too far off...this kid is pretty creepy. It got to the point where whenever he walked past me I got distracted and really annoyed, which made me lose my count and I had to start all over again. I just want to know why he's doing it. Why isn't he doing anything? Why is he just walking around like he's waiting for a machine or a bench to open up when there are plenty available? I need answers! Or maybe I don't...I just want answers.
3. Do everyone a favor and leave your phone at home. You can be unreachable for 2 hours and be OK.
I'm probably alone in this opinion, but I always leave my phone at home while I'm at the gym for several reasons. It's distracting, it's another thing to keep track of, another thing to potentially get stolen, and it's nice to be free from being constantly contactable. During the time I'm there, not a single person knows my exact location except the people who are in the same building and for some reason, that's comforting. Others that are members at my gym are not of the same opinion. Everywhere I look there are people clutching multiple cell phones as well as their iPod or other music playing device. Obviously if your phone is your music playing device, this doesn't exactly apply to you, but in that case, I would either turn the service or the ringer off while I was there. Again – probably not a popular opinion. One person I can think of in particular has two phones and an iPod with him and routinely answers both phones while on the treadmill or elliptical machine, jumps off, has his conversation, then jumps back on the machine. Really? Was it that important where it couldn't wait? I highly doubt it. I'm of the opinion if something is an emergency right now, it still will be in an hour when I get back to my phone. Plus it gives you time to work the problem out on your own without my help, so in reality, by me leaving my phone at home during workout time, I'm helping you become a better, more self-reliant person. You're welcome.
4. If the weight is too heavy for you to do a proper, complete rep, take some weight off the bar, jackass.
You might think it looks cool if you can bench or squat a ton, but if you only do a third of a rep or your spotter is doing most of the work, you look like a complete idiot. Is it better to do less weight and lift properly or look like you can lift a lot and potentially injure yourself because you're going above your strength (or is it strempth)? Easy game, dumb ass: take some weight off and do it right. Or don't and I'll continue to ridicule you in my head while secretly hoping you break your ass when you can't handle the weight. Another fun game is when people pile on a weight they are actually able to do, but is closer to the heavy end and can't do a full set on their “warm ups” because they want to look cool. I witnessed one guy doing bicep curls with 25 kilo plates on the bar and his spotter should have counted it as a set of triceps pushes for himself. This was his first set. Nobody thinks you look cool except you. You look dumb.
Those are really the biggies, there isn't much else that isn't obvious such as machine/bench/rack stealers, people who collect dumbbells they've used and refuse to re-rack them correctly or even at all, people who cut in line for the water fountain, people who take forever to do their sets, and people who just sit and watch you while you're finishing up so they can hoard the bench or rack when just as you're done with it. Oh, and the people who have the new year's resolution to finally get off their ass and do something really need to give up already. It's annoying...we all know you're going to give up, so just do it already and leave me in peace.
On second thought, back injury be damned, I should have gone to the gym to get rid of some of this pent up aggression. Oh well...till next time.
I like the list thing, so let's do that again, OK? Good...you're so agreeable. Top however many things I feel like writing about that annoy the piss out of me at the gym:
1. Nobody gives a fuck about your muscles.
Let me say that again so it sinks in: nobody gives a fuck about your muscles. Nobody except you and potentially anything/anyone you're having consensual sex with, and they don't really care that much. Since nobody cares about your muscles but you, please, for the love of Chris (remember kids, Chris died for your sins...), PLEASE stop flexing in the mirror right after you do a set of whatever exercise you're doing. It makes you look stupid and everyone is making fun of you in their head. This is especially true of the gigantic asshat that does a set of situps and then “wipes his mouth” with the bottom of the t-shirt he's wearing so he can check out his sweet abs in the mirror. It just so happens the t-shirt gets stuck in his mouth while he coincidentally flexes his aforementioned sweet abs. I say again...nobody cares. Also, nobody ever will. If you want to check yourself out, do it like everyone else does and flex to yourself in your bathroom mirror. Obviously the entire reason for working out is to improve the way you look, add a few percentage points to your chances of getting laid, get rid of those man tits, or take a little off the spare tire. However, just like beating off, flexing should be done in the privacy of your own home and should be considered a one person activity.
2. It's not a social club. If you're there, do something, don't walk around aimlessly.
I've been going to the same gym for about 5 months now, and after a while people obviously start to look familiar and their routines are noticed as well. A few months ago, I noticed one kid who never seemed to be doing anything but walk around smiling like he just took a real shit after being constipated for the last 3 weeks. Once while I was doing random activities in a stationary spot, I actually tracked this kid for a solid 20 minutes and all he did was walk laps around the machines while holding a towel and a half empty water bottle. Back and forth...back and forth...kind of like he was scanning a crowd to see if he noticed his buddy waving his hand like a maniac. Or like he was a serial killer quietly scoping out his next kill and we were all none the wiser. Actually, now that I think about it, that might not be too far off...this kid is pretty creepy. It got to the point where whenever he walked past me I got distracted and really annoyed, which made me lose my count and I had to start all over again. I just want to know why he's doing it. Why isn't he doing anything? Why is he just walking around like he's waiting for a machine or a bench to open up when there are plenty available? I need answers! Or maybe I don't...I just want answers.
3. Do everyone a favor and leave your phone at home. You can be unreachable for 2 hours and be OK.
I'm probably alone in this opinion, but I always leave my phone at home while I'm at the gym for several reasons. It's distracting, it's another thing to keep track of, another thing to potentially get stolen, and it's nice to be free from being constantly contactable. During the time I'm there, not a single person knows my exact location except the people who are in the same building and for some reason, that's comforting. Others that are members at my gym are not of the same opinion. Everywhere I look there are people clutching multiple cell phones as well as their iPod or other music playing device. Obviously if your phone is your music playing device, this doesn't exactly apply to you, but in that case, I would either turn the service or the ringer off while I was there. Again – probably not a popular opinion. One person I can think of in particular has two phones and an iPod with him and routinely answers both phones while on the treadmill or elliptical machine, jumps off, has his conversation, then jumps back on the machine. Really? Was it that important where it couldn't wait? I highly doubt it. I'm of the opinion if something is an emergency right now, it still will be in an hour when I get back to my phone. Plus it gives you time to work the problem out on your own without my help, so in reality, by me leaving my phone at home during workout time, I'm helping you become a better, more self-reliant person. You're welcome.
4. If the weight is too heavy for you to do a proper, complete rep, take some weight off the bar, jackass.
You might think it looks cool if you can bench or squat a ton, but if you only do a third of a rep or your spotter is doing most of the work, you look like a complete idiot. Is it better to do less weight and lift properly or look like you can lift a lot and potentially injure yourself because you're going above your strength (or is it strempth)? Easy game, dumb ass: take some weight off and do it right. Or don't and I'll continue to ridicule you in my head while secretly hoping you break your ass when you can't handle the weight. Another fun game is when people pile on a weight they are actually able to do, but is closer to the heavy end and can't do a full set on their “warm ups” because they want to look cool. I witnessed one guy doing bicep curls with 25 kilo plates on the bar and his spotter should have counted it as a set of triceps pushes for himself. This was his first set. Nobody thinks you look cool except you. You look dumb.
Those are really the biggies, there isn't much else that isn't obvious such as machine/bench/rack stealers, people who collect dumbbells they've used and refuse to re-rack them correctly or even at all, people who cut in line for the water fountain, people who take forever to do their sets, and people who just sit and watch you while you're finishing up so they can hoard the bench or rack when just as you're done with it. Oh, and the people who have the new year's resolution to finally get off their ass and do something really need to give up already. It's annoying...we all know you're going to give up, so just do it already and leave me in peace.
On second thought, back injury be damned, I should have gone to the gym to get rid of some of this pent up aggression. Oh well...till next time.
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