There is a tv show here in England called "Can Fat Teens Hunt".
The reality of it isn't quite as entertaining as my imagination, but I give them a A+ for going balls out of the title. PC? What's that?
Friday, December 14, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
I can't remember the last time I cried so hard
If for no other reason, you need to watch the entirety of Six Feet Under just so you can experience the last three minutes of the final episode.
I have never seen the end of a series be so complete, so beautiful, so depressing, so honest, so meaningful, so full of loss, and so wholly satisfying.
T.V. can be an incredible artistic medium.
I have never seen the end of a series be so complete, so beautiful, so depressing, so honest, so meaningful, so full of loss, and so wholly satisfying.
T.V. can be an incredible artistic medium.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
And, it's all worth it.
My trip to Amsterdam is better described as my trip to the Netherlands. I flew in Friday afternoon a hopped a train to Leiden, where Sean lives. This comparatively small town is located about twenty minutes South of Amsterdam and boasts all the canals, windmills, and stereotypical Holland "culture" you would expect, but in it's own, rather wonderful, way.
Within twenty minutes of arriving in Leiden, I was experiencing some of that "culture" for myself. We met up with two of Sean's friends, Chris and Tad (who became our compatriots of debauchery for the weekend), and proceeded to go from bar to bar enjoying rounds and hilarious conversation. Apparently, these guys have recently embarked on a no-holds-barred "your mom" competition of epic proportion. Needless to say, I immediately felt at home (and homesick for my dear friends). At the third or fourth bar, I befriended a Dutch girl named Ester, who had an uncanny resemblance to Liza Minnelli. A good friend of Ester's was having a birthday celebration of some kind, so we ended up tagging along. At some point in the evening, I had my first kebab - it was delicious, as promised. We stumbled home sometime around three.
Saturday morning we explored the weekly market along the canals. I've never found the smell of fresh fish appealing before. There were stalls of all kinds of fresh produce, cheese (they're really big on their cheese), and stroopwaffle. If you ever have the opportunity to eat some stroopwaffle in your life, take it from me, don't pass it up. For breakfast I had a traditional Dutch pancake. The best description I can come up with for this delicacy is as follows: an open-faced breakfast taco on a crepe tortilla. Mine had mushrooms, bacon, and cheese and was the size of my face. Later that day we collected Tad and Chris and hopped a train to Eindhoven (about two hours further south). Sean had read about the Eindhoven Winter Festival and was eager to go experience all the ice sculpture, sledding, wintry glory. Since Sean had proposed this idea (and it was, sort of, the reason I went this weekend), I figured Sean must have had some kind of plan. Not really. Once we got there, we sort of just wandered off in a random direction. (Though it wasn't entirely random as there was some thought put into why we went that way. It was more of an educated guess). The first thing we stumbled upon was an ice rink - that's "winterfest-esque" enough for us. So we got some skates and (I at least) proceeded to fall down a lot. It was fun, if not a little painful. We asked the people running the rink where the other festival stuff was and they pointed down a little road to our left. As we headed down said little road, Chris got distracted by an Irish pub and we ended up in there drinking and playing pool for a couple of hours. When we finally did make it thirty seconds down the road, we found several tents and sledding ramps and all sort of fun - but it was closed. There was nothing else to do but find another bar. Eindhoven, in case you didn't know, it home to the "longest strip of bars in the Netherlands". This strip of bars consists of about eight dodgy looking places. For those of us familiar with 6th street, it's kind of a joke. The rest of the night carried on much like the previous night except for one major difference: getting home consisted of catching a two hour train back to Leiden at some point. That point, we decided, was 2:30. We bundled up and headed back to the train station only to find it was closed. After a couple more drinks and an hour or so of trekking from booked hotel to booked hotel, we started up negotiations with local cabbies to see who we could convince to drive us the two hours back to Leiden for less than 300 Euro. I say "we" here, but really Sean was the only person making much effort to get us home. Eventually, with the help of some pretty stellar negotiating powers, Sean got a Mercedes to agree to 160 Euro, and we made it home safe and sound.
Sunday, I left Sean to study and I went up to Amsterdam for the afternoon. I went to the Rijst Museum, where they house a hilariously random array of Dutch painting, sculptures, artefacts, and china as well as an impressive collection of Rembrandt's work (including the Night Watch which is IMPRESSIVE, to say the least). I then went to the Van Gogh Museum, which might have been one of my favourite tourist things in Europe so far. I embraced the nerd within, rented the audio tour, and proceeded to listen (with undivided fascination) to the entire thing. After the museums, I attempted to go find the Red Light District just to say I did. The tram system got the best of me and I ended up fairly lost. I got a little more panicky than I needed to, but I attribute this to the fact that everything was in Dutch and to the fight that broke out within five feet of me. This guy got jacked in the face, twice, and ended up very bloody and (understandably) very irate. So, I gave up fairly quickly and decided to seek the safety of the train station. This is the only thing traditionally "Amsterdam" that I missed out on - but I'm not that broken up about it. If nothing else, it just gives me an excuse to go back in the future. That night, I went with the three guys to watch the Steelers game. There was a girl from Pittsburgh there who, after one look, I immediately disliked. Other than her presence, it was another excellent evening.
Monday, I spent the morning wandering around Leiden while Sean was in class. I found several neat looking churches, loads of interesting nooks and alleyways, some of the best chai I've ever had, and a medieval citadel. After a cup of coffee with Tad and Sean, I had to head to the airport for my flight home. If my Dublin trip was a prime example of the tourist's sightseeing weekend (which I think it kind of was), then this trip was the exact opposite. It was a trip full of stories and exploits best categorized under "you had to be there". It was a much needed weekend of over-indulgence and I had an absolutely wonderful time.
Within twenty minutes of arriving in Leiden, I was experiencing some of that "culture" for myself. We met up with two of Sean's friends, Chris and Tad (who became our compatriots of debauchery for the weekend), and proceeded to go from bar to bar enjoying rounds and hilarious conversation. Apparently, these guys have recently embarked on a no-holds-barred "your mom" competition of epic proportion. Needless to say, I immediately felt at home (and homesick for my dear friends). At the third or fourth bar, I befriended a Dutch girl named Ester, who had an uncanny resemblance to Liza Minnelli. A good friend of Ester's was having a birthday celebration of some kind, so we ended up tagging along. At some point in the evening, I had my first kebab - it was delicious, as promised. We stumbled home sometime around three.
Saturday morning we explored the weekly market along the canals. I've never found the smell of fresh fish appealing before. There were stalls of all kinds of fresh produce, cheese (they're really big on their cheese), and stroopwaffle. If you ever have the opportunity to eat some stroopwaffle in your life, take it from me, don't pass it up. For breakfast I had a traditional Dutch pancake. The best description I can come up with for this delicacy is as follows: an open-faced breakfast taco on a crepe tortilla. Mine had mushrooms, bacon, and cheese and was the size of my face. Later that day we collected Tad and Chris and hopped a train to Eindhoven (about two hours further south). Sean had read about the Eindhoven Winter Festival and was eager to go experience all the ice sculpture, sledding, wintry glory. Since Sean had proposed this idea (and it was, sort of, the reason I went this weekend), I figured Sean must have had some kind of plan. Not really. Once we got there, we sort of just wandered off in a random direction. (Though it wasn't entirely random as there was some thought put into why we went that way. It was more of an educated guess). The first thing we stumbled upon was an ice rink - that's "winterfest-esque" enough for us. So we got some skates and (I at least) proceeded to fall down a lot. It was fun, if not a little painful. We asked the people running the rink where the other festival stuff was and they pointed down a little road to our left. As we headed down said little road, Chris got distracted by an Irish pub and we ended up in there drinking and playing pool for a couple of hours. When we finally did make it thirty seconds down the road, we found several tents and sledding ramps and all sort of fun - but it was closed. There was nothing else to do but find another bar. Eindhoven, in case you didn't know, it home to the "longest strip of bars in the Netherlands". This strip of bars consists of about eight dodgy looking places. For those of us familiar with 6th street, it's kind of a joke. The rest of the night carried on much like the previous night except for one major difference: getting home consisted of catching a two hour train back to Leiden at some point. That point, we decided, was 2:30. We bundled up and headed back to the train station only to find it was closed. After a couple more drinks and an hour or so of trekking from booked hotel to booked hotel, we started up negotiations with local cabbies to see who we could convince to drive us the two hours back to Leiden for less than 300 Euro. I say "we" here, but really Sean was the only person making much effort to get us home. Eventually, with the help of some pretty stellar negotiating powers, Sean got a Mercedes to agree to 160 Euro, and we made it home safe and sound.
Sunday, I left Sean to study and I went up to Amsterdam for the afternoon. I went to the Rijst Museum, where they house a hilariously random array of Dutch painting, sculptures, artefacts, and china as well as an impressive collection of Rembrandt's work (including the Night Watch which is IMPRESSIVE, to say the least). I then went to the Van Gogh Museum, which might have been one of my favourite tourist things in Europe so far. I embraced the nerd within, rented the audio tour, and proceeded to listen (with undivided fascination) to the entire thing. After the museums, I attempted to go find the Red Light District just to say I did. The tram system got the best of me and I ended up fairly lost. I got a little more panicky than I needed to, but I attribute this to the fact that everything was in Dutch and to the fight that broke out within five feet of me. This guy got jacked in the face, twice, and ended up very bloody and (understandably) very irate. So, I gave up fairly quickly and decided to seek the safety of the train station. This is the only thing traditionally "Amsterdam" that I missed out on - but I'm not that broken up about it. If nothing else, it just gives me an excuse to go back in the future. That night, I went with the three guys to watch the Steelers game. There was a girl from Pittsburgh there who, after one look, I immediately disliked. Other than her presence, it was another excellent evening.
Monday, I spent the morning wandering around Leiden while Sean was in class. I found several neat looking churches, loads of interesting nooks and alleyways, some of the best chai I've ever had, and a medieval citadel. After a cup of coffee with Tad and Sean, I had to head to the airport for my flight home. If my Dublin trip was a prime example of the tourist's sightseeing weekend (which I think it kind of was), then this trip was the exact opposite. It was a trip full of stories and exploits best categorized under "you had to be there". It was a much needed weekend of over-indulgence and I had an absolutely wonderful time.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
"Unfortunately, you have not been successful at this time"
I would die happy if I never heard this phrase again.
WARNING: Mopey and depressing rant ahead.
I just don't know what I have to do. Honestly. I had three decent enough internships, I have a 3.6 GPA in the number three portfolio program in the country, my portfolio isn't complete crap (at least, I am pretty sure I can say it shows that I can do what needs to get done), I've been involved in creative extracurriculars, and I currently hold a respectable position in business development overseeing the creation of internal and external communications. I'm not saying I'm the best candidate, but I'd like to think I'm better than the average candidate. I'd like to think I am at least somewhat marketable. I'd like to think I'm worth at least an interview before I am rejected.
As you can probably guess, I didn't get the TBWA graduate program I really wanted. It's a fucking training program, and I'm not good enough. I mean, how bad do I have to be for them to reject me flat out. It's not like they can say I don't have enough experience; you don't need experience for a graduate training scheme! It's not like they can say I don't have enough expertise; the point is for them to teach you! So, they must of looked at my CV and just thought, "she's such complete shit, we might as well train a monkey". For Christ's sake! I never really expected to get invited for an interview, but I did have one ever-so-tiny amount of hope that, perhaps, just maybe, I might be good enough to do what I want to do with my life.
No, I'm not the next great designer. No, I don't strike awe into everyone who sees my work. But, you know, I would put my fucking heart and soul into a job like this and I would do a damn good job. They also had this to say: Please don't take it too hard - some of the best names in the industry didn't make it first time either. What is it's not your first time? What if you've been trying and trying and applying and applying and no one gives you the time of day? How do you convince someone - anyone - to give you a chance?
I am still waiting to hear back from one last place. But I have no hope left. It hurts too much to get my hopes up - but, I guess you never know. This may mean I'll be back in Texas sooner than I originally thought. I can't really justify staying in London and spending the kind of money I am to live here in order to pursue a career I have no desire to pursue. I mean, if I'm going to be doing generic office work for the rest of my life I might as well do it somewhere more affordable. I think I could be happy just wandering around the globe. Does anyone want to donate to the "Shelley has no future and needs to postpone it for as long as possible" fund?
Everything is just such a God damned joke. *Deep Breath* I'm not posting this for pity. Writing it down and putting it out there is a nice way of venting and it will keep me from obsessing over this. I'll be over it tomorrow, but for today I get to be disappointed.
WARNING: Mopey and depressing rant ahead.
I just don't know what I have to do. Honestly. I had three decent enough internships, I have a 3.6 GPA in the number three portfolio program in the country, my portfolio isn't complete crap (at least, I am pretty sure I can say it shows that I can do what needs to get done), I've been involved in creative extracurriculars, and I currently hold a respectable position in business development overseeing the creation of internal and external communications. I'm not saying I'm the best candidate, but I'd like to think I'm better than the average candidate. I'd like to think I am at least somewhat marketable. I'd like to think I'm worth at least an interview before I am rejected.
As you can probably guess, I didn't get the TBWA graduate program I really wanted. It's a fucking training program, and I'm not good enough. I mean, how bad do I have to be for them to reject me flat out. It's not like they can say I don't have enough experience; you don't need experience for a graduate training scheme! It's not like they can say I don't have enough expertise; the point is for them to teach you! So, they must of looked at my CV and just thought, "she's such complete shit, we might as well train a monkey". For Christ's sake! I never really expected to get invited for an interview, but I did have one ever-so-tiny amount of hope that, perhaps, just maybe, I might be good enough to do what I want to do with my life.
No, I'm not the next great designer. No, I don't strike awe into everyone who sees my work. But, you know, I would put my fucking heart and soul into a job like this and I would do a damn good job. They also had this to say: Please don't take it too hard - some of the best names in the industry didn't make it first time either. What is it's not your first time? What if you've been trying and trying and applying and applying and no one gives you the time of day? How do you convince someone - anyone - to give you a chance?
I am still waiting to hear back from one last place. But I have no hope left. It hurts too much to get my hopes up - but, I guess you never know. This may mean I'll be back in Texas sooner than I originally thought. I can't really justify staying in London and spending the kind of money I am to live here in order to pursue a career I have no desire to pursue. I mean, if I'm going to be doing generic office work for the rest of my life I might as well do it somewhere more affordable. I think I could be happy just wandering around the globe. Does anyone want to donate to the "Shelley has no future and needs to postpone it for as long as possible" fund?
Everything is just such a God damned joke. *Deep Breath* I'm not posting this for pity. Writing it down and putting it out there is a nice way of venting and it will keep me from obsessing over this. I'll be over it tomorrow, but for today I get to be disappointed.
Monday, November 26, 2007
I've found my people, and they've embraced me.
Part One - Getting There
I realize I have a problem. I will never again be able to enjoy travelling as I used to. Why? Simple; for the last 5 years of my life, I have not had to pay for airfare. Because of this, I was never stressed out, angry, or upset when something went wrong while travelling. If the plane was delayed, oh well. If I was bumped from a flight, oh well. If they ran out of peanuts - oh well. I hadn't paid for anything, so I couldn't expect anything. Now that I am paying for my flights, I do expect things. Things like good service, timely push-offs, and free peanuts. And when I don't get these things - these things I paid for - I get stressed out, angry, and very upset. It's not really being spoiled, because when I was spoiled with free airfare I was always polite. It's simply that I expect to get what I paid for. Perhaps I am too demanding (or, perhaps, I fly on shitty airlines where "what I pay for" is shitty service).
This weekend was one of the worst travelling experiences of my life; definitely in the top three. Ryanair is atrocious. I have heard them called "the Southwest of Europe". This is not only a disgrace to the good name of Southwest Airlines, it also offends me on a deep, personal level. I won't bore you with the details of the seven hours I spent in airports this weekend, but I will say one thing. After a 20 minute argument with a customer service representative, I was told that I was "bitchy, even for an American" (not to my face, but to a co-worker as I walked away). I would have said something in response if I wasn't somewhat proud of this statement. My return trip found me wasting an equal amount of time in an airport, but it was much more enjoyable as I was much more drunk. I can now check "drinking alone in an airport bar" off my list of things to do. In the end, I am thoroughly unimpressed with Ryanair. Sure, I would probably fly them again, but only if their price was significantly (£60 or more) cheaper than competing airlines. Otherwise, I just don't think it's worth it.
Part Two - Being There
My jaunt to Dublin was spectacular. Saturday, I explored the city via a hop-on-hop-off tour bus service. The drivers were stereotypically Irish and, when they weren't talking, they played stereotypical Irish music. It was cliché-tacular and I loved it. I saw the Book of Kells at Trinity College (an ornately illustrated book of gospels from AD 800), Dublin Castle, The Doors of Dublin (all the old Georgian squares have these really ornate and colourful doors), St. Stephen's Green, Christ's Church Cathedral, St. Patrick's Cathedral, The place where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula, all sorts of random political and historical buildings, and (most importantly) the Guinness Storehouse. Is it sad that my favourite thing was the brewery? You didn't get to tour the actual brewery itself, but they had this awesome eight-storey interactive museum kind of thing with all the technical information, history, and advertisements you would ever want. There was a whole floor dedicated to the history of Guinness advertising. I don't think I need to tell you how much I enjoyed this. I am a nerd. Saturday night I wandered around the Temple Bar (a sort of 6th street style) area of the city with some friends I made at the Storehouse. Throughout the day, I kept being stopped by lost tourist looking for directions. They were fairly shocked to find I was American and, often, just as lost as they were. It wasn't just the tourists either. I fooled many an Irishman, who was equally shocked to find I was American. Apparently, it's not just the freckles and red hair (I didn't have the heart to tell them it was fake) I have going but it's "my face and my charm". It turns out Irish people like me a lot because 1. I look Irish and 2. am from Texas. The combination of the two is, to them anyway, hysterical. I may be living in the wrong country.
Sunday, I went with ten other people on a Celtic Tour of the countryside. Since it was such a small group, everyone got fairly chummy. I particularly got on well with these two girls from Newcastle and the driver, Paul. He called me Texas all day and, I'm not going to lie, it fulfilled a life long dream of mine. Who from Texas doesn't want to be nicknamed Texas when in a foreign country?!? Unless of course if you are in a war movie, because then you would have to die first. We travelled about an hour outside the city and visited Fourknocks' Tomb (built over 5000 years ago and home of the oldest carving of a face - though, 5000 years later it's not so impressive), Mellifont Abbey (where there are these really neat Celtic Crosses), Monasterboice Abbey, the Hill of Slane, and the Hill of Tara. It was really rather interesting and it was nice to see the famous Irish Countryside. You know that whole "Ireland is green" thing? Honestly, I have never seen such a vivid shade of green in nature before. It was gorgeous.
I learned something about my family while I was over there. We're Irish. Yeah, yeah, I know my Grandparents were Irish, but since my mom grew up in England, I always thought of us as British. Nope. All the quirkiness I used to attribute to being English is really not English at all. Our personalities, our sense of humour, our looks, our attitudes - it's all Irish. I never really thought about the fact that my mom and her siblings were first generation Brits. They grew up more Irish than they did British and that's what's been passed on to me. I really liked Dublin and the people I met there. They got me. I felt very comfortable there; very much at home. Part one aside, it was a very nice weekend. I've got a ridiculous amount of photographs, some of which I'll get posted to facebook in the next few days. (I would have posted them in here but in order to write a photograph based post I would have to write it at home and then what would I do at work?)
I realize I have a problem. I will never again be able to enjoy travelling as I used to. Why? Simple; for the last 5 years of my life, I have not had to pay for airfare. Because of this, I was never stressed out, angry, or upset when something went wrong while travelling. If the plane was delayed, oh well. If I was bumped from a flight, oh well. If they ran out of peanuts - oh well. I hadn't paid for anything, so I couldn't expect anything. Now that I am paying for my flights, I do expect things. Things like good service, timely push-offs, and free peanuts. And when I don't get these things - these things I paid for - I get stressed out, angry, and very upset. It's not really being spoiled, because when I was spoiled with free airfare I was always polite. It's simply that I expect to get what I paid for. Perhaps I am too demanding (or, perhaps, I fly on shitty airlines where "what I pay for" is shitty service).
This weekend was one of the worst travelling experiences of my life; definitely in the top three. Ryanair is atrocious. I have heard them called "the Southwest of Europe". This is not only a disgrace to the good name of Southwest Airlines, it also offends me on a deep, personal level. I won't bore you with the details of the seven hours I spent in airports this weekend, but I will say one thing. After a 20 minute argument with a customer service representative, I was told that I was "bitchy, even for an American" (not to my face, but to a co-worker as I walked away). I would have said something in response if I wasn't somewhat proud of this statement. My return trip found me wasting an equal amount of time in an airport, but it was much more enjoyable as I was much more drunk. I can now check "drinking alone in an airport bar" off my list of things to do. In the end, I am thoroughly unimpressed with Ryanair. Sure, I would probably fly them again, but only if their price was significantly (£60 or more) cheaper than competing airlines. Otherwise, I just don't think it's worth it.
Part Two - Being There
My jaunt to Dublin was spectacular. Saturday, I explored the city via a hop-on-hop-off tour bus service. The drivers were stereotypically Irish and, when they weren't talking, they played stereotypical Irish music. It was cliché-tacular and I loved it. I saw the Book of Kells at Trinity College (an ornately illustrated book of gospels from AD 800), Dublin Castle, The Doors of Dublin (all the old Georgian squares have these really ornate and colourful doors), St. Stephen's Green, Christ's Church Cathedral, St. Patrick's Cathedral, The place where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula, all sorts of random political and historical buildings, and (most importantly) the Guinness Storehouse. Is it sad that my favourite thing was the brewery? You didn't get to tour the actual brewery itself, but they had this awesome eight-storey interactive museum kind of thing with all the technical information, history, and advertisements you would ever want. There was a whole floor dedicated to the history of Guinness advertising. I don't think I need to tell you how much I enjoyed this. I am a nerd. Saturday night I wandered around the Temple Bar (a sort of 6th street style) area of the city with some friends I made at the Storehouse. Throughout the day, I kept being stopped by lost tourist looking for directions. They were fairly shocked to find I was American and, often, just as lost as they were. It wasn't just the tourists either. I fooled many an Irishman, who was equally shocked to find I was American. Apparently, it's not just the freckles and red hair (I didn't have the heart to tell them it was fake) I have going but it's "my face and my charm". It turns out Irish people like me a lot because 1. I look Irish and 2. am from Texas. The combination of the two is, to them anyway, hysterical. I may be living in the wrong country.
Sunday, I went with ten other people on a Celtic Tour of the countryside. Since it was such a small group, everyone got fairly chummy. I particularly got on well with these two girls from Newcastle and the driver, Paul. He called me Texas all day and, I'm not going to lie, it fulfilled a life long dream of mine. Who from Texas doesn't want to be nicknamed Texas when in a foreign country?!? Unless of course if you are in a war movie, because then you would have to die first. We travelled about an hour outside the city and visited Fourknocks' Tomb (built over 5000 years ago and home of the oldest carving of a face - though, 5000 years later it's not so impressive), Mellifont Abbey (where there are these really neat Celtic Crosses), Monasterboice Abbey, the Hill of Slane, and the Hill of Tara. It was really rather interesting and it was nice to see the famous Irish Countryside. You know that whole "Ireland is green" thing? Honestly, I have never seen such a vivid shade of green in nature before. It was gorgeous.
I learned something about my family while I was over there. We're Irish. Yeah, yeah, I know my Grandparents were Irish, but since my mom grew up in England, I always thought of us as British. Nope. All the quirkiness I used to attribute to being English is really not English at all. Our personalities, our sense of humour, our looks, our attitudes - it's all Irish. I never really thought about the fact that my mom and her siblings were first generation Brits. They grew up more Irish than they did British and that's what's been passed on to me. I really liked Dublin and the people I met there. They got me. I felt very comfortable there; very much at home. Part one aside, it was a very nice weekend. I've got a ridiculous amount of photographs, some of which I'll get posted to facebook in the next few days. (I would have posted them in here but in order to write a photograph based post I would have to write it at home and then what would I do at work?)
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Rob is my Hero
Back when I first arrived in England, I had a little bit of Mac trouble. My battery wasn't charging properly and I had to go into the Apple store to get it swapped out for a new one. Who is it that ends up helping me out? This guy from UT, who happens to be good friends with my dear ad partner, Cesar. What are the odds?
This guy's name is Rob. And Rob is my hero.
He graciously accepted my Genius Bar appointment via Facebook and squeezed me in during appointments last night. Apparently, the Regent Street store in the single busiest Apple store in the world - based on what I saw last night, I'd believe it. After a few hours, it was concluded that the problem must be something physically wrong with my hard drive. I ended up leaving my laptop there for surgery - they have to open her up - but, I should get her back, good as new, in just a day or two. In fact, she'll be better than new, as there may be an upgrade to the new leopard OS and (finger crossed, cause' this would rock) the addition of CS3.
I apologize for completely flipping out and being, perhaps, a little overdramatic in my previous entry. But honestly, it did feel like my world was upside down. There was a girl at the Apple store last night who had, in fact, lost everything on her hard drive. She had been in the day before balling her eyes out. I could, obviously, empathize with her, but I was just so glad I wasn't her. So much so, that I felt rather guilty sitting next to her with my working computer and all it's music, pictures, and files.
I'm just really, truly, relieved. And you know what I am going to do to celebrate? Buy an external hard drive. A.S.A.P.
This guy's name is Rob. And Rob is my hero.
He graciously accepted my Genius Bar appointment via Facebook and squeezed me in during appointments last night. Apparently, the Regent Street store in the single busiest Apple store in the world - based on what I saw last night, I'd believe it. After a few hours, it was concluded that the problem must be something physically wrong with my hard drive. I ended up leaving my laptop there for surgery - they have to open her up - but, I should get her back, good as new, in just a day or two. In fact, she'll be better than new, as there may be an upgrade to the new leopard OS and (finger crossed, cause' this would rock) the addition of CS3.
I apologize for completely flipping out and being, perhaps, a little overdramatic in my previous entry. But honestly, it did feel like my world was upside down. There was a girl at the Apple store last night who had, in fact, lost everything on her hard drive. She had been in the day before balling her eyes out. I could, obviously, empathize with her, but I was just so glad I wasn't her. So much so, that I felt rather guilty sitting next to her with my working computer and all it's music, pictures, and files.
I'm just really, truly, relieved. And you know what I am going to do to celebrate? Buy an external hard drive. A.S.A.P.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
I am broken hearted.
I installed a normal update on my computer last night and, when prompted to restart, I did so. Now, my computer won't load the operating system; it only boots into Darwin (Mac's equivalent on DOS). After several attempts to contact the UK Mac Support line (did you know you can receive 24 hour technical support on your iPhone, but no other Mac products?), spending about 30 minutes using Google via a calling card and Jeremy, and calling the American tech support line (in this respect, the time zone thing really helped me out) I was told that, essentially, this was a freak accident that sometimes happens when installing normal updates and I may or may not have lost everything on my computer.
This is where I went into hysterics.
Everything. EVERYTHING may be gone. All of my music. Every picture I have taken over the last five years. Everything I have ever written. Things other people have written for me. Every design project I have ever created. All of my ads from portfolio. What it comes down to, is that my entire life has be erased.
I know that sounds incredibly dramatic, but I can't tell you the sense of loss I feel right now. It's like a loved one dieing - not like your mom or brother or someone else equally important; more like an estranged Aunt. It's just this profound feeling of helplessness. There's this sinking feeling in my chest when I think about all of the things I won't be able to replace. I feel victimized. I feel like someone has raped and pillaged my memories. All of these things that did once exist now, simply don't.
Again, I know how ridiculous this sounds from a purely logical standpoint. I should be able to restore a good 60% of my music library from my iPod, not to mention what I will steal from you lovely people at Christmas time. I should be able to get my portfolio work back from my Ad partners if I harass them enough. Most of the pictures that are truly important to me are in my scrapbook (mega-props to Brandan for getting me to do that) and then there are all those pictures online. That's the big three, as it were.
But it's all the little things that make my heart break. Random individual songs I've collected but never put on my iPod. New music I've bought in the last six months that never made it out of iTunes. Play lists I had made. Pictures that were too embarrassing or inappropriate to print, but were still brilliant nonetheless. A lot of random pictures I had saved from high school that never made it to the scrapbook. Things I had written in my spare time, just for fun. Things people had written for me as a romantic gesture or as a pick-me-up. I had a word document, from forever ago, of things John would say on AIM that made me laugh (John, I am pretty sure you know this, which makes it less creepy). I had a word document of everyone's reply to an away message question, "what's your favourite thing from this summer?" in reference to our last Summer before college. It's these things that I cannot replace that make me feel so empty all of a sudden.
I use to think losing my music collection would be the worse thing that could ever happen to me. This was a statement made back when I had a 500 CD case and the iPod had yet to be invented. Just a few days ago, I updated this statement and said that losing my facebook profile (as apparently you can, just randomly, have your facebook profile deleted) would be ghastly. It didn't even cross my mind that I could lose everything on my computer. It's like my brain could not even comprehend the horror of that reality and, therefore, refused to recognize it. Ironically, I have been toying with the idea of buying an external hard drive to back up all of my files for about a year now, but the cost/benefit analysis never worked out (i.e. I didn't think this was likely to happen and I didn't have $200 to spend on one).
Worst decision ever.
Double irony (as long as we are talking about irony) is that I never EVER update my computer when I am prompted. I just can't be bothered and, as of late, my internet has been too slow to do it. But, last night, for reasons only the gods will ever know, I decided to click "update" when prompted.
My mom is fed-exing me the original installation discs for my Mac. Best case scenario seems to be that they will be able to do an "archive re-install", meaning that they will be able to recover everything in my home folder. The only real downside to this is that I have no idea what my home folder is. So, if I was suppose to be adding things to my home folder (seems likely) there won't be much of anything to recover. I have my fingers crossed that things get automatically saved into my home folder… maybe?… please?
To top it all off, with my laptop out of commission I also lose my sole form on home entertainment. I can't watch DVDs, I can't listen to music, and I can't hang out online (not that I could really anyway (read: shitty internet)). I think part of why I was so upset last night was the realization that my entire pathetic life revolves around this one machine. I mean, I would have had a very happy evening watching Six Feet Under, listening to some music, reading, and falling asleep. But as soon as you take that away, I was struck with a serious moment of panic. The idea that that is all my life is; it's really disappointing.
To sum up: I've potentially lost a significant chunk of what I hold dear and have realized my life is an empty sham.
The lesson to be learned: Buy a fucking external hard drive, and buy it now.
This is where I went into hysterics.
Everything. EVERYTHING may be gone. All of my music. Every picture I have taken over the last five years. Everything I have ever written. Things other people have written for me. Every design project I have ever created. All of my ads from portfolio. What it comes down to, is that my entire life has be erased.
I know that sounds incredibly dramatic, but I can't tell you the sense of loss I feel right now. It's like a loved one dieing - not like your mom or brother or someone else equally important; more like an estranged Aunt. It's just this profound feeling of helplessness. There's this sinking feeling in my chest when I think about all of the things I won't be able to replace. I feel victimized. I feel like someone has raped and pillaged my memories. All of these things that did once exist now, simply don't.
Again, I know how ridiculous this sounds from a purely logical standpoint. I should be able to restore a good 60% of my music library from my iPod, not to mention what I will steal from you lovely people at Christmas time. I should be able to get my portfolio work back from my Ad partners if I harass them enough. Most of the pictures that are truly important to me are in my scrapbook (mega-props to Brandan for getting me to do that) and then there are all those pictures online. That's the big three, as it were.
But it's all the little things that make my heart break. Random individual songs I've collected but never put on my iPod. New music I've bought in the last six months that never made it out of iTunes. Play lists I had made. Pictures that were too embarrassing or inappropriate to print, but were still brilliant nonetheless. A lot of random pictures I had saved from high school that never made it to the scrapbook. Things I had written in my spare time, just for fun. Things people had written for me as a romantic gesture or as a pick-me-up. I had a word document, from forever ago, of things John would say on AIM that made me laugh (John, I am pretty sure you know this, which makes it less creepy). I had a word document of everyone's reply to an away message question, "what's your favourite thing from this summer?" in reference to our last Summer before college. It's these things that I cannot replace that make me feel so empty all of a sudden.
I use to think losing my music collection would be the worse thing that could ever happen to me. This was a statement made back when I had a 500 CD case and the iPod had yet to be invented. Just a few days ago, I updated this statement and said that losing my facebook profile (as apparently you can, just randomly, have your facebook profile deleted) would be ghastly. It didn't even cross my mind that I could lose everything on my computer. It's like my brain could not even comprehend the horror of that reality and, therefore, refused to recognize it. Ironically, I have been toying with the idea of buying an external hard drive to back up all of my files for about a year now, but the cost/benefit analysis never worked out (i.e. I didn't think this was likely to happen and I didn't have $200 to spend on one).
Worst decision ever.
Double irony (as long as we are talking about irony) is that I never EVER update my computer when I am prompted. I just can't be bothered and, as of late, my internet has been too slow to do it. But, last night, for reasons only the gods will ever know, I decided to click "update" when prompted.
My mom is fed-exing me the original installation discs for my Mac. Best case scenario seems to be that they will be able to do an "archive re-install", meaning that they will be able to recover everything in my home folder. The only real downside to this is that I have no idea what my home folder is. So, if I was suppose to be adding things to my home folder (seems likely) there won't be much of anything to recover. I have my fingers crossed that things get automatically saved into my home folder… maybe?… please?
To top it all off, with my laptop out of commission I also lose my sole form on home entertainment. I can't watch DVDs, I can't listen to music, and I can't hang out online (not that I could really anyway (read: shitty internet)). I think part of why I was so upset last night was the realization that my entire pathetic life revolves around this one machine. I mean, I would have had a very happy evening watching Six Feet Under, listening to some music, reading, and falling asleep. But as soon as you take that away, I was struck with a serious moment of panic. The idea that that is all my life is; it's really disappointing.
To sum up: I've potentially lost a significant chunk of what I hold dear and have realized my life is an empty sham.
The lesson to be learned: Buy a fucking external hard drive, and buy it now.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
And then there was this
This was the view outside my window at work on Friday afternoon. I have to admit, no one felt particularly guilty when we spent five minutes sipping tea (coffee for me), watching this guy work, and arguing the possible repercussions of flashing a man repelling from a 20 story building.
What an odd job.
Friday, November 16, 2007
A Busy Day at Work
Well, I had stuff to do. Now I find myself with an hour and fifteen minutes still to go and I am bored! I was instructed by Sarah, who is away today, to call her if I needed something to do. I have done so, several times, and to no avail. I know the people around me are busy and I keep asking them if I can help, but it would appear as though I am of no use to anyone. By trying to be helpful, I've put myself in a bit of an awkward situation; I am just dicking around and my overworked, stressed out colleagues KNOW that I am just dicking around. It really makes me feel guilty; guilty enough to open up Word and start typing while occasionally glancing at the Corporate Vehicles document sitting next to me in a vain attempt to appear to have found something important to do. Every so often I pause from typing and flip through the document with a pensive look on my face; I think that's a nice touch.
I've already written my abnormally long email today, spent a necessary amount of time on facebook, read through a stranger's blog, read through a friend's blog, and caught up on the last month of Gofugyourself.com entries. I don't know what happened. I was so busy this morning! We have a microsite we have to roll out this weekend, so Val and I were left to double check the consistency of the pages in regards to formatting, information, and branding. We had to work through 5 - 8 WebPages of varying length per a total of 22 countries. Val (who is in charge of this one) was worried it wasn't going to get done. She had me burning through those like wild fire; which is fine, I rather enjoyed my morning - I like when I have something that has to get done - but now I find myself with nothing left to do. Where is the bloody fire now?! Val is still working on bits and pieces of it, but it seems as though my area of expertise (mindless labour) is no longer required.
In short, through an exceedingly high level of efficiency and productivity, I have worked myself out of a job. I vaguely remember having a conversation with Ben about this a few years back, when he was working at a law firm one summer (funny, now I work at a law firm). He had observed that his peers and colleagues worked at an alarmingly slow pace, which he originally chalked up as laziness and/or incompetence. It wasn't until a few weeks into it that Ben started to realize the benefits of slowing down your productivity in order to extend your work load over longer periods of time. I guess this had just slipped my mind until today. I should not have been so hasty in my work! It was wrong of me to work as quickly and effectively as I could in order to not only meet, but beat, the deadline that was given to me. Why, oh why, did I think that was a good idea?
Now, I'm not saying you should slack off, or ever just do the bare minimum. One hurts thos you work with and the other is simply lazy. You certainly aren't going to climb the corporate ladder with only 15 pieces of flair. BUT, there is something in the idea of always being busy vs. always looking for something to do.
Say you are an over achiever and you accomplish all your boss gives you to do in the first two hours of your day. What next? You have to go ask for more to do. In the beginning, I'm sure this makes you look like a stellar employee, but after days, weeks, months of you having to ask what to do your boss ends up thinking, "Why do I always have to TELL her what to do. No one else has to ASK what their job is. I should fire her.". How awful! And all because you wanted to work to your full potential.
On the other hand, lets say you do you work, you do it well, and you do it in your own sweet time (though, of course, you never miss a deadline (without fair warning)). In this scenario, you never have to ask you boss, "what's next". You simply do what you are told, when you are told, and no one can make a complaint about you. When your boss sees you, intensely focused on your computer monitor (apparently amending some Corporate Vehicles document - you look so pensive) he can't help but think, "Now THERE'S and top notch employee. Always hard at work, never has to bother me. I should give her a raise". If you ask me, that's a much better situation to be in.
Unfortunately, this has chipped away thirty minutes of the hour and fifteen I needed to kill. Ironic. I worked too quickly through this post. I gave myself an hour deadline (well, goal really) and I blew it away; cut it in half!
Balls.
I've already written my abnormally long email today, spent a necessary amount of time on facebook, read through a stranger's blog, read through a friend's blog, and caught up on the last month of Gofugyourself.com entries. I don't know what happened. I was so busy this morning! We have a microsite we have to roll out this weekend, so Val and I were left to double check the consistency of the pages in regards to formatting, information, and branding. We had to work through 5 - 8 WebPages of varying length per a total of 22 countries. Val (who is in charge of this one) was worried it wasn't going to get done. She had me burning through those like wild fire; which is fine, I rather enjoyed my morning - I like when I have something that has to get done - but now I find myself with nothing left to do. Where is the bloody fire now?! Val is still working on bits and pieces of it, but it seems as though my area of expertise (mindless labour) is no longer required.
In short, through an exceedingly high level of efficiency and productivity, I have worked myself out of a job. I vaguely remember having a conversation with Ben about this a few years back, when he was working at a law firm one summer (funny, now I work at a law firm). He had observed that his peers and colleagues worked at an alarmingly slow pace, which he originally chalked up as laziness and/or incompetence. It wasn't until a few weeks into it that Ben started to realize the benefits of slowing down your productivity in order to extend your work load over longer periods of time. I guess this had just slipped my mind until today. I should not have been so hasty in my work! It was wrong of me to work as quickly and effectively as I could in order to not only meet, but beat, the deadline that was given to me. Why, oh why, did I think that was a good idea?
Now, I'm not saying you should slack off, or ever just do the bare minimum. One hurts thos you work with and the other is simply lazy. You certainly aren't going to climb the corporate ladder with only 15 pieces of flair. BUT, there is something in the idea of always being busy vs. always looking for something to do.
Say you are an over achiever and you accomplish all your boss gives you to do in the first two hours of your day. What next? You have to go ask for more to do. In the beginning, I'm sure this makes you look like a stellar employee, but after days, weeks, months of you having to ask what to do your boss ends up thinking, "Why do I always have to TELL her what to do. No one else has to ASK what their job is. I should fire her.". How awful! And all because you wanted to work to your full potential.
On the other hand, lets say you do you work, you do it well, and you do it in your own sweet time (though, of course, you never miss a deadline (without fair warning)). In this scenario, you never have to ask you boss, "what's next". You simply do what you are told, when you are told, and no one can make a complaint about you. When your boss sees you, intensely focused on your computer monitor (apparently amending some Corporate Vehicles document - you look so pensive) he can't help but think, "Now THERE'S and top notch employee. Always hard at work, never has to bother me. I should give her a raise". If you ask me, that's a much better situation to be in.
Unfortunately, this has chipped away thirty minutes of the hour and fifteen I needed to kill. Ironic. I worked too quickly through this post. I gave myself an hour deadline (well, goal really) and I blew it away; cut it in half!
Balls.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Zen Day
Sunday is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week. I have fallen into a very relaxing and productive little Sunday routine that truly makes me happy.
I get to sleep in. Whenever I do get up, I mosey on over to the gym where I get to enjoy a nice workout and a proper shower. (Remember how mine is made for midgets? I've gotten very accustom to showering in public.) On the way home from the gym, I pick up the Sunday Times (about 3 lbs of newspaper) and stop in my now favorite coffee shop, the Bean and Cup. I am on a mission to become a regular there. After a few hours of reading the paper, I pack it all up and go to the grocery store where I pick up whatever I need for the week as well as something special for dinner Sunday night. I like cooking something properly for myself every now and then. Part of me thinks it's kind of pathetic - picking up the single sized serving of chicken - but I really enjoy cooking and I really see no problem with treating myself to an extravagant home cooked meal once a week. Last week I made grilled red pepper and black bean fajitas and this week I am going to make a proper roast dinner with roast potatoes and everything.
I've always been a bit of a loner (and too shy for my own good), which is why it's always been hard for me to meet new people/make friends. During the rest of the week, this sometimes gnaws at me. I worry that I'll never really have a close group of friends again. I worry people actively try not to include me. I worry about how other people view me or what they think of me. But, on Sundays, I don't have to worry. I just get to enjoy my workout, my paper, my coffee, my dinner... my routine. I just get to be with myself and forget the rest of the world for a little while - and it's really nice.
I think this might make me a crazy person, but I'm ok with that.
I get to sleep in. Whenever I do get up, I mosey on over to the gym where I get to enjoy a nice workout and a proper shower. (Remember how mine is made for midgets? I've gotten very accustom to showering in public.) On the way home from the gym, I pick up the Sunday Times (about 3 lbs of newspaper) and stop in my now favorite coffee shop, the Bean and Cup. I am on a mission to become a regular there. After a few hours of reading the paper, I pack it all up and go to the grocery store where I pick up whatever I need for the week as well as something special for dinner Sunday night. I like cooking something properly for myself every now and then. Part of me thinks it's kind of pathetic - picking up the single sized serving of chicken - but I really enjoy cooking and I really see no problem with treating myself to an extravagant home cooked meal once a week. Last week I made grilled red pepper and black bean fajitas and this week I am going to make a proper roast dinner with roast potatoes and everything.
I've always been a bit of a loner (and too shy for my own good), which is why it's always been hard for me to meet new people/make friends. During the rest of the week, this sometimes gnaws at me. I worry that I'll never really have a close group of friends again. I worry people actively try not to include me. I worry about how other people view me or what they think of me. But, on Sundays, I don't have to worry. I just get to enjoy my workout, my paper, my coffee, my dinner... my routine. I just get to be with myself and forget the rest of the world for a little while - and it's really nice.
I think this might make me a crazy person, but I'm ok with that.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Extras
As I don't have a TV or a DVD hire near me I have gotten into the bad habit of simply buying movies and TV series without really knowing anything about them. So far, this has worked out well for me; I discovered Band of Brothers this way.
And now, it pays off a second time. Everyone, please watch Extras. You can borrow it from John as, apparently, he has known about this and been hiding it from us. You'll love it.
And by "you'll", I mean Jeremy.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Less than 24 hours later
Ha! Screw you Wall Pleasant! I got a job!
Starting tomorrow, I am working for a company that rhymes with PLA Diaper (I've been instructed not to use their real name to protect their integrity) in their marketing and PR department. It's starting out as a temporary position, but that is more than fine with me. From at least now until Christmas I have a guaranteed pay check and way to fill my days. The girl I am working for is beyond nice and I think I am going to get along really well with her. I am actually really excited about this. I am making (relatively speaking) bank. I get to work in a fun environment and it's only a few tube stops away.
I no longer have the postgraduate, over educated, unemployed blues. I thought about changing to another Wally Pleasant classic, "Stupid Day Job", but I don't think that will necessarily apply to me. At least, not yet. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.
Oh, and I have a date tomorrow. Things are coming together....
Starting tomorrow, I am working for a company that rhymes with PLA Diaper (I've been instructed not to use their real name to protect their integrity) in their marketing and PR department. It's starting out as a temporary position, but that is more than fine with me. From at least now until Christmas I have a guaranteed pay check and way to fill my days. The girl I am working for is beyond nice and I think I am going to get along really well with her. I am actually really excited about this. I am making (relatively speaking) bank. I get to work in a fun environment and it's only a few tube stops away.
I no longer have the postgraduate, over educated, unemployed blues. I thought about changing to another Wally Pleasant classic, "Stupid Day Job", but I don't think that will necessarily apply to me. At least, not yet. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.
Oh, and I have a date tomorrow. Things are coming together....
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Wally Pleasant
My problems all started on commencement day
When people started asking me what my plans were I didn’t know what to say.
I thought about hanging out in Europe or traveling around the states,
But my car was total junk and I couldn’t afford airline rates.
So I got down on my knees and prayed and sent out resumes cause I needed a job.
Well, I was just looking for an easy, high paying, career,
But I could wall paper my bedroom with the rejection letters I got this year
Because the entry level job picture just ain’t what it ought to be,
But at least I can blame all my problems on the economy.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
Well, 1 and 1 is 2. 2 and 2 is 4. 28 squared is 784!
I know a lot of useless facts that I’ll never even use,
When I’m not at the MECS office, I’m at job interviews.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
I should of joined the Army instead of taking that SAT test
Because my BA degree is a bunch of BS.
And I wish I worked in a factory, I wish I knew how to weld stuff.
I should have gone to Botech and got a job where I don’t need to know stuff,
Like the 18th theory of economics, or the houses of Croy.
I once wrote a 35 pages paper about the significance of the United States having a service based economy and now I’m unemployed. I’m unemployed.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
One more time for everyone whose got a masters degree!
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
When people started asking me what my plans were I didn’t know what to say.
I thought about hanging out in Europe or traveling around the states,
But my car was total junk and I couldn’t afford airline rates.
So I got down on my knees and prayed and sent out resumes cause I needed a job.
Well, I was just looking for an easy, high paying, career,
But I could wall paper my bedroom with the rejection letters I got this year
Because the entry level job picture just ain’t what it ought to be,
But at least I can blame all my problems on the economy.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
Well, 1 and 1 is 2. 2 and 2 is 4. 28 squared is 784!
I know a lot of useless facts that I’ll never even use,
When I’m not at the MECS office, I’m at job interviews.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
I should of joined the Army instead of taking that SAT test
Because my BA degree is a bunch of BS.
And I wish I worked in a factory, I wish I knew how to weld stuff.
I should have gone to Botech and got a job where I don’t need to know stuff,
Like the 18th theory of economics, or the houses of Croy.
I once wrote a 35 pages paper about the significance of the United States having a service based economy and now I’m unemployed. I’m unemployed.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
One more time for everyone whose got a masters degree!
I got the postgraduate, over educated, out of work blues.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Weekend Holidays
I spent the weekend in the country (though not the technical country, just more "country" than the city where I have been spending all my time) at my Aunt's house. I took the train down - all told about a two hour trip - and spent most of that time listening to my iPod and staring out the window. At one point, as I looked out on the rolling green landscape dotted with grazing sheep and listening to Imogen Heap, I quietly smiled at myself and my situation. A very nice old man sitting across from me asked me what I was smiling at and I don't think he quite knew what to say when I answered, "England". What an astoundingly beautiful place. I can't say it's perfect and there are things I wish were different - but not many things and not drastically different.
Spending time with my Aunt (who looks nearly identical to my mom) and my cousins (three sisters who are incredibly close) made me miss my family just a little bit. I'm feeling particularly lonely this Monday afternoon, now that I have returned to my little apartment. But overall, it was nice to have a family and home cooked food and more than one room to live in for the weekend.
I've been spending a lot of time with this Israeli exchange student I met named Lena. She's pretty cool - over here doing graphic design - and it's been really nice to have someone who is equally interested in all the dorky things I am. We've been going to film festivals, pop art exhibitions, and documentaries on the typeface Helvetica. We are starting to make travel plans for after Christmas. Top of our list; Ireland and Scotland. We might make it over the channel, depending on how much money I am making at that point.
I sort of, not really, but kind of got a part time job at this club around the corner from my house. They posted on gumtree looking for a sound engineer for their live gigs. I applied, not really expecting anything, but got a call for an interview. So I went over there to have a chat with the girl who owns the place and it turns out that she Loves Austin. With a capital L. That was actually the main reason she called me up. She said she had a huge response, much of which was compiled by people more qualified than I am, but that she has never met someone from Austin she didn't like. We talked for about an hour about ACL, her club, and music in general. I am now on a standby list of sorts, for when she needs someone to come in a cover a shift. Basically, it is something I'll be doing once every 3 weeks or so, but I am pretty excited about it. She said she would make sure I was there whenever they had an Austin band in.
I just read Nick Hornby's "A Long Way Down". I highly recommend it. It only takes a day or two to read, so go pick up a copy.
Spending time with my Aunt (who looks nearly identical to my mom) and my cousins (three sisters who are incredibly close) made me miss my family just a little bit. I'm feeling particularly lonely this Monday afternoon, now that I have returned to my little apartment. But overall, it was nice to have a family and home cooked food and more than one room to live in for the weekend.
I've been spending a lot of time with this Israeli exchange student I met named Lena. She's pretty cool - over here doing graphic design - and it's been really nice to have someone who is equally interested in all the dorky things I am. We've been going to film festivals, pop art exhibitions, and documentaries on the typeface Helvetica. We are starting to make travel plans for after Christmas. Top of our list; Ireland and Scotland. We might make it over the channel, depending on how much money I am making at that point.
I sort of, not really, but kind of got a part time job at this club around the corner from my house. They posted on gumtree looking for a sound engineer for their live gigs. I applied, not really expecting anything, but got a call for an interview. So I went over there to have a chat with the girl who owns the place and it turns out that she Loves Austin. With a capital L. That was actually the main reason she called me up. She said she had a huge response, much of which was compiled by people more qualified than I am, but that she has never met someone from Austin she didn't like. We talked for about an hour about ACL, her club, and music in general. I am now on a standby list of sorts, for when she needs someone to come in a cover a shift. Basically, it is something I'll be doing once every 3 weeks or so, but I am pretty excited about it. She said she would make sure I was there whenever they had an Austin band in.
I just read Nick Hornby's "A Long Way Down". I highly recommend it. It only takes a day or two to read, so go pick up a copy.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Reasons why I am going to Hell
I went to mass today with my Grandma for her birthday and because it was the annual memorial mass for my Granddad. While at church, I picked up on at least a few of the reasons why I might not be sharing eternity with the Lord Savior up in Heaven.
1. Today's sermon was about the individuals role in the church and in their religion - sort of a "don't ask what God can do for you, but what you can do for God" theme. At one point the priest (who really reminded me of Eddie Izzard's parody of English priests, which perhaps could be a whole separate reason) said "God loves us completely and fully....long pause... He just loves us to bits". I may have laughed inappropriately, people may have noticed.
2. During Communion the violinist played Paco Bell Cannon in D and instead of reflecting on my life/sins and praying silently, I was singing Taco Bell Cannon in D to myself. So, whilst drinking Christ's blood, in my head I was singing, "I like tacos, I like tacos... taco bell taco bell taco taco bell taco bell"... etc.
3. When Mass ended there was a mass exodus (I am hilarious) towards the street. I won't lie - I haven't been jostled about so much by a crowd the entire time I've been here. I was getting shoved left and right and little kids were punching my legs and stepping on my toes and, completely by accident, I may have muttered something along the lines of "Jesus Christ! Watch where you are going" in reference to an 80-year-old woman who nailed my ankle with her cane.
So yeah, if you find yourself waiting for me at the pearly gates, don't hold your breath.
1. Today's sermon was about the individuals role in the church and in their religion - sort of a "don't ask what God can do for you, but what you can do for God" theme. At one point the priest (who really reminded me of Eddie Izzard's parody of English priests, which perhaps could be a whole separate reason) said "God loves us completely and fully....long pause... He just loves us to bits". I may have laughed inappropriately, people may have noticed.
2. During Communion the violinist played Paco Bell Cannon in D and instead of reflecting on my life/sins and praying silently, I was singing Taco Bell Cannon in D to myself. So, whilst drinking Christ's blood, in my head I was singing, "I like tacos, I like tacos... taco bell taco bell taco taco bell taco bell"... etc.
3. When Mass ended there was a mass exodus (I am hilarious) towards the street. I won't lie - I haven't been jostled about so much by a crowd the entire time I've been here. I was getting shoved left and right and little kids were punching my legs and stepping on my toes and, completely by accident, I may have muttered something along the lines of "Jesus Christ! Watch where you are going" in reference to an 80-year-old woman who nailed my ankle with her cane.
So yeah, if you find yourself waiting for me at the pearly gates, don't hold your breath.
Friday, October 19, 2007
What do you do with a B.S. in Advertising?
Apparently nothing.
Fours years of college, three semesters in one of the best portfolio programs in the nation, several internships in the industry, and I am completely and totally unmarketable. I don't seem to fit into ANY job requirements, mainly because I don't have any agency experience - though I don't see how the hell I am supposed to get any.
Today is my first self pity day. I am frustrated, pissed off, disappointed, and pretty much convinced I am a failure. I really don't want to come back to Texas in December and have to answer everyone's "Oh my god, so how is London? What are you doing over there?" questions with a very simple, "nothing. All I've managed to do is waste a bunch of money".
That is where the failure part comes in. I just want a fucking job. It doesn't have to be glamorous, it doesn't have to pay well, it can have shit hours, it can be stressful and in the company of people I hate. All I ask is that the job be at least SOMEWHAT relevant to what I want to do with my life. I don't want to be in Ad sales, I don't want to be a receptionist at an ears/nose/throat hospital, and I don't think this is asking to much.
It's really hard to stay motivated in the whole job search thing when all you get in response is rejection after rejection. I mean, I am used to critique - I really rather like it - but this is starting to grate me in a way that can't be good for my self esteem. How the hell are you supposed to get a job?
*rant over*
Fours years of college, three semesters in one of the best portfolio programs in the nation, several internships in the industry, and I am completely and totally unmarketable. I don't seem to fit into ANY job requirements, mainly because I don't have any agency experience - though I don't see how the hell I am supposed to get any.
Today is my first self pity day. I am frustrated, pissed off, disappointed, and pretty much convinced I am a failure. I really don't want to come back to Texas in December and have to answer everyone's "Oh my god, so how is London? What are you doing over there?" questions with a very simple, "nothing. All I've managed to do is waste a bunch of money".
That is where the failure part comes in. I just want a fucking job. It doesn't have to be glamorous, it doesn't have to pay well, it can have shit hours, it can be stressful and in the company of people I hate. All I ask is that the job be at least SOMEWHAT relevant to what I want to do with my life. I don't want to be in Ad sales, I don't want to be a receptionist at an ears/nose/throat hospital, and I don't think this is asking to much.
It's really hard to stay motivated in the whole job search thing when all you get in response is rejection after rejection. I mean, I am used to critique - I really rather like it - but this is starting to grate me in a way that can't be good for my self esteem. How the hell are you supposed to get a job?
*rant over*
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
WTF?
I was in my local Sainsburys this evening when I happened to notice this:
It's kind of hard to read, but you are looking at Kleenex for men. I am not kidding, the name on the box is "Kleenex for men".
Now, I've done a little research and according to the UK Kleenex website "KLEENEX® For Men tissues are big, strong & reliable enough for all your needs — everything you would expect from the number one facial tissue brand for 50 years." However, according to the somewhat less reputable site, dooyoo.co.uk, a man writes in a review of the product, "I have found that they are best at absorbing three of my body fluids which I produce and discharge in large quantities on a regular basis. These fluids are snot, sweat and sperm". There are over a dozen comments following this review praising it's accuracy and honesty. So we have to wonder if this is the true reasoning behind Kleenex's new subbrand or if, perhaps, some sort of geographical marketing scheme.
It's interesting to note that this product is not available in the states - it isn't even listed on the US Kleenex website as an existing product. So what is it about British guys that made the corporation feel they had room to expand? Are British guys more sensitive? Are British guys more gullible and, therefore, willing to shell out the extra cash? Or do British guys just wank off more?
Help me figure this out - I find it fascinating.
It's kind of hard to read, but you are looking at Kleenex for men. I am not kidding, the name on the box is "Kleenex for men".Now, I've done a little research and according to the UK Kleenex website "KLEENEX® For Men tissues are big, strong & reliable enough for all your needs — everything you would expect from the number one facial tissue brand for 50 years." However, according to the somewhat less reputable site, dooyoo.co.uk, a man writes in a review of the product, "I have found that they are best at absorbing three of my body fluids which I produce and discharge in large quantities on a regular basis. These fluids are snot, sweat and sperm". There are over a dozen comments following this review praising it's accuracy and honesty. So we have to wonder if this is the true reasoning behind Kleenex's new subbrand or if, perhaps, some sort of geographical marketing scheme.
It's interesting to note that this product is not available in the states - it isn't even listed on the US Kleenex website as an existing product. So what is it about British guys that made the corporation feel they had room to expand? Are British guys more sensitive? Are British guys more gullible and, therefore, willing to shell out the extra cash? Or do British guys just wank off more?
Help me figure this out - I find it fascinating.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Ann Coulter is a Stupid Bitch
There is no other way to describe her.
I would like a religious opinion on this - I know the woman is insane, but since I don't know the bible/Christian beliefs that well, I don't know just how crazy she truly is. Do Christians really consider themselves "perfected jews"? I have never heard this idea before....
I just really can't believe how completely and utterly thick headed and arrogant this woman is. She makes some rash generalizations about the world and how it works and then makes all sorts of emphatic statements based on very little to no fact. People like that really piss me off. How can ANYONE listen to her and think she brilliant?! It's times like this that I fear for the well being of humanity.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Stones are rocks
I signed up at a gym 'round the corner. It's fantastic! It is probably one of the nicest facilities I have ever used, which may or may not be saying anything since I have spent most of my recent gym life at UT. Not only do they have your standard equipment and classes (they have ab lab!), but they also have a salon that does facials, nails, massages, and all that good stuff.
It's a neat little place, except for one thing: everything is in kilos. I almost caused the ellipticals brain to explode when I tried to tell it I weighed 145 kilos. That did not compute. It is also a little difficult to use the weight machines when I am not entirely sure how much I am lifting. I am sure it looks as though I have never been to a gym before in my life.
The scales in the locker room measure in stones. Stones! Like that means anything; how archaic. As the title of this entry says, stones - as far as I am concerned - are rocks, not units of measurement. The nice thing about the stones approach though is that your weight sounds so small - "so-and-so weighs 9 stone". 9 is such a nice little number! The bad thing is that I am not sure how much I weigh or how much weight I want to lose or what stone weight is my healthy stone weight. Stupid stones.
This country is weird.
It's a neat little place, except for one thing: everything is in kilos. I almost caused the ellipticals brain to explode when I tried to tell it I weighed 145 kilos. That did not compute. It is also a little difficult to use the weight machines when I am not entirely sure how much I am lifting. I am sure it looks as though I have never been to a gym before in my life.
The scales in the locker room measure in stones. Stones! Like that means anything; how archaic. As the title of this entry says, stones - as far as I am concerned - are rocks, not units of measurement. The nice thing about the stones approach though is that your weight sounds so small - "so-and-so weighs 9 stone". 9 is such a nice little number! The bad thing is that I am not sure how much I weigh or how much weight I want to lose or what stone weight is my healthy stone weight. Stupid stones.
This country is weird.
Friday, October 5, 2007
My New House
This is my building. I live above a shoe repair shop (as you can see) and it has already proven handy. I took a pair of boots down to get the heel fixed and I got a discount. Robert and I are tight like that.
Here is my “flat”. It’s more of a glorified dorm room. It’s one room with, basically, two closets that have been converted into a bathroom and a kitchen. This is a shot from the front door – that far door you see is the kitchen.
Speaking of kitchen, isn’t it cute? In this context, "cute" and "tiny" are interchangeable. Interesting tidbit, that oven doesn’t actually have any numbers on the temperature dial. Cooking is a guess and check process for me these days. So far, it hasn’t been a problem. I have been setting it in the middle and just watching what I have in there. I figure “middle” must be somewhere around 350f and, really, isn’t everything cooked at 350f anyway?
Here are a couple of shots of my “living room”. That first one is back towards the front door and the second one nicely shows off my fun/sentimental picture collage. Please ignore the pile of trash waiting to go out...
This shows you my “bedroom”. Like I said, glorified dorm room with a lofted bed and all. That door behind my dry rack (today was laundry day and Britain doesn’t believe in dryers) is my bathroom.You don’t really need to see a picture of it, but you might like to know it was made for a midget. I don’t know if that is true, but I think it could be. It does have a full size bathtub, which is nice, but the “shower” is just some y-shaped tubing attached to the bath taps with a showerhead shape on one end. I can’t actually stand in my shower – it’s about 4 inches too short for that. Bathing is awkward, to say the least. Also, my toilet makes an atrocious sound every time I flush it. My landlord is supposed to be in next week to fix it. But for the time being, I wake up the entire building every time I pee. So that’s good.
To continue the midget theme, my lofted bed (which is very comfortable) doesn’t have quite enough clearance for me to sit up in bed. It’s about 2 inches shy of an acceptable height. I hit my head a lot the first couple of days, but I have gotten use to it now. Yesterday morning I sat up to check the time and automatically dipped my head to one side - I am a quick learner.
Here are some photos of the neighborhood. I live on the high street - just a 5 minute walk from the Camden Locks and the Camden Market Place. It’s a really neat area and apparently very trendy which means I totally fit in, because we all know how trendy I am...
The High Street (above)
The Locks (Above)
I went a spent several hours at the market today. It’s a really interesting place. It’s an old stable/horse hospital that has been converted into a bunch of independently owned stalls. You get a little bit of everything in there: proper antiques, jewelry, clothes from cute to Goth, shoes galore, nick knacks form all over the world – and all very reasonable priced. The only down side is that the whole place smells of food an incense which means, depending on the direction of the wind, it either makes me hungry or nauseous. I picked up a few pieces from local artists today. Below are my favorite two.
This is by a guy named Bansky. You can google him and see more stuff, which I strongly recommend. He did a whole series (which this one comes from) where he went around stenciling the sides of buildings around town. He’s also done a lot of sketches and traditional canvas work. It’s all pretty cool – I think you can all tell why I like this one. NHR, represent.
And this I got from a “local” who is actually from Dallas. He had a stall in the market full of crazy bunny art (Bunnies riding rockets, Indian Jones Bunnies, Bunnies at War) as well as a couple of other cool series – urban fairies, romantic sketches, etc. He had a couple of different distinct styles too, which I thought was neat. It’s always interesting to see two paintings that have so little in common it would be hard to guess they were by the same guy. This one is called “Injection”. It might be my new favorite thing.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Thus is life
Well, I had a very exciting night last night. I went out shopping/errand running all day and on the way home stopped at a take away Chinese place to grab some dinner. While I was looking over the menu I struck up conversation with another woman picking up dinner. I asked her if she ate there often and if she could recommend something. She proceeded to give me a full run down of the menu, including her likes and dislikes as well as her favorite combinations of starters and main meals based on flavor/sauciness combinations. Apparently she goes there on what we could safely call a "frequent" basis. She told me she has been there the last three days in a row, but usually only goes there two or three times a week. There is an Indian place around the corner she likes to mix into her routine.
She made me sad. In the ten minutes I spent talking to her I got the strong impression I was the only person outside of work she had talked to in a while. I don't want to be her. So, I've set a new goal for myself - don't be a pathetic loaner. Make friends, or at least try.
On my way home from said Chinese take away place, I was whistled at by a kid on a bike who could not have been more than 8-years-old. His friend, a slightly older kid (we're talking around 10) followed up the whistle with a "shake that ass". Though it was pronounced more like "arse" which amused me.
This also made me sad. It seems as though I can only successfully attract prepubescent boys. So, the second goal I set for myself last night - attempt to be bolder with men. Don't come off as shy and/or uninterested, unless of course the "men" are 8-year-old kids.
How am going to reach these goals you ask? Well, I've been putting some thought into that. I finally get to move into my apartment tomorrow. I am so excited! It will take me a few days to get settled, but after I do I am going to go secure myself some part time employment somewhere near by. This way I at least have a semblance of a routine and the opportunity to meet some new people. In addition to this, I have an appointment set up with the creative director of The Courtyard Theater on Wednesday. I think he is going to let me do some volunteer tech work with him, which would not only be another fun addition to some sort of routine, but will hopefully throw a few potential friends my direction. I am also going to make myself go to the Texas Exes events from now on. We get to watch the game live tonight! When you scream for a touch down, I will too! How exciting! Only it will be 9 pm where I am. I think there is only one way to achieve my goals: I need to force myself to stop being such a shy git. I think I can do it, fingers crossed anyway.
I've been to three interviews for "real jobs" and while they went well, nothing came of it. One person said they would hire me, but were concerned about my "commitment to London". Apparently they think I will just pack up my bags and leave in four weeks or something. Which I suppose is fair enough - but how do they guarantee that even someone living down the street won't up and quit on them when they get a better offer? They can't, but it doesn't really bother me as I didn't want their job anyway. The other company offered me a position, but I turned them down, or rather I "have chosen not to proceed with this offer and to instead pursue other opportunities". They were shady and pretty much refused to tell me exactly what it was they wanted me to do for them. It was nice to say no to someone, but it very quickly reminded me how poor and bored I am.
Anyway, the point of the employment rambling is that all this job searching has got me missing school. I don't know if I am entirely ready for "the real world". I definitely know I am not ready to hunker down and work a job I don't really like just to make money. I am not 100% sure what I want to do yet, and I don't want to get stuck with some career I hate just because it was time to find a job. So with that thought in mind, I started looking into some masters programs over here. I can go to one of the best Comm schools in Europe, get a masters in about a year, and it will only cost $4,000. That is so ridiculously cheap! I might be a good idea to work part time somewhere while going to class for a masters. I'm not sure yet, so I am going to keep looking for "real" work a little bit longer. But I am also going to keep my options open.
That's all for now. When I get my place set up I'll post pictures.
She made me sad. In the ten minutes I spent talking to her I got the strong impression I was the only person outside of work she had talked to in a while. I don't want to be her. So, I've set a new goal for myself - don't be a pathetic loaner. Make friends, or at least try.
On my way home from said Chinese take away place, I was whistled at by a kid on a bike who could not have been more than 8-years-old. His friend, a slightly older kid (we're talking around 10) followed up the whistle with a "shake that ass". Though it was pronounced more like "arse" which amused me.
This also made me sad. It seems as though I can only successfully attract prepubescent boys. So, the second goal I set for myself last night - attempt to be bolder with men. Don't come off as shy and/or uninterested, unless of course the "men" are 8-year-old kids.
How am going to reach these goals you ask? Well, I've been putting some thought into that. I finally get to move into my apartment tomorrow. I am so excited! It will take me a few days to get settled, but after I do I am going to go secure myself some part time employment somewhere near by. This way I at least have a semblance of a routine and the opportunity to meet some new people. In addition to this, I have an appointment set up with the creative director of The Courtyard Theater on Wednesday. I think he is going to let me do some volunteer tech work with him, which would not only be another fun addition to some sort of routine, but will hopefully throw a few potential friends my direction. I am also going to make myself go to the Texas Exes events from now on. We get to watch the game live tonight! When you scream for a touch down, I will too! How exciting! Only it will be 9 pm where I am. I think there is only one way to achieve my goals: I need to force myself to stop being such a shy git. I think I can do it, fingers crossed anyway.
I've been to three interviews for "real jobs" and while they went well, nothing came of it. One person said they would hire me, but were concerned about my "commitment to London". Apparently they think I will just pack up my bags and leave in four weeks or something. Which I suppose is fair enough - but how do they guarantee that even someone living down the street won't up and quit on them when they get a better offer? They can't, but it doesn't really bother me as I didn't want their job anyway. The other company offered me a position, but I turned them down, or rather I "have chosen not to proceed with this offer and to instead pursue other opportunities". They were shady and pretty much refused to tell me exactly what it was they wanted me to do for them. It was nice to say no to someone, but it very quickly reminded me how poor and bored I am.
Anyway, the point of the employment rambling is that all this job searching has got me missing school. I don't know if I am entirely ready for "the real world". I definitely know I am not ready to hunker down and work a job I don't really like just to make money. I am not 100% sure what I want to do yet, and I don't want to get stuck with some career I hate just because it was time to find a job. So with that thought in mind, I started looking into some masters programs over here. I can go to one of the best Comm schools in Europe, get a masters in about a year, and it will only cost $4,000. That is so ridiculously cheap! I might be a good idea to work part time somewhere while going to class for a masters. I'm not sure yet, so I am going to keep looking for "real" work a little bit longer. But I am also going to keep my options open.
That's all for now. When I get my place set up I'll post pictures.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
A Very Brady Lesbian Affair
Marsha and Jan got it on? I find that disturbing for some reason...
Also, they had a moment of silence for Marcel Marceau. I find that funny.
Also, they had a moment of silence for Marcel Marceau. I find that funny.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Tina Fey knows my deepest fears.
I had a strange moment today - it's the first time in a long time I've been sad to be single. And it wasn't just sad, it was really a moment of panic. And here's why: I have some sort of bump or bite on the back of my shoulder. It's been soar for the last two days. I can't see it and I have no one to ask to look at it and make sure it's not cancer or a chigger. I'm more worried it might be a chigger honestly. I've always had a paranoid fear of chiggers.
It made me think of the 30 rock episode in which Tina Fey is terrified she will die alone in her apartment having choked on a piece of chicken. I understand now.
I've moved in to Ann's tonight and am really enjoying it - though i would still like to be in my own place. sigh, soon enough. Other than the chigger bite, I'm quite happy. =)
It made me think of the 30 rock episode in which Tina Fey is terrified she will die alone in her apartment having choked on a piece of chicken. I understand now.
I've moved in to Ann's tonight and am really enjoying it - though i would still like to be in my own place. sigh, soon enough. Other than the chigger bite, I'm quite happy. =)
Friday, September 14, 2007
New Number
My new UK number is: 0778 999 5337
I think if you want to call me you dial 011 44 778 999 5337 (look at all the numbers!)
I also now have the internet. Did you know the internet comes in a box now? I got this little doodad that you plug into your USB and that is all you need. So where ever I go, I have internet. Neat, isn't it?
I think if you want to call me you dial 011 44 778 999 5337 (look at all the numbers!)
I also now have the internet. Did you know the internet comes in a box now? I got this little doodad that you plug into your USB and that is all you need. So where ever I go, I have internet. Neat, isn't it?
Friday, September 7, 2007
I live in England?
I have a whole lot to say and not a lot of time to say it - I am on a Library computer in Woolich and on a strict time limit as (it seems) no one in England has yet jumped on the technology bandwagon.
So, a real quick update on my semi-success here:
I have found an "apartment". I like to call it a 2 story, 2 bed flat. That sounds much nicer that 120 sq foot box with lofted sleeping and sofa bed. I can't move in until the first of October and I am going to do some serious redecorating (paint, light fixtures, etc) so when I can Ill get some pictures up so you can see. It's tiny, but in a really good location and sort of more cozy tiny than depressing tiny. I am only a 2 minute walk from the mornington crescent tube station and only 5 minutes from this rather trendy night life area of Cadmen Locks. My future address is: Flat 4, 84 Cadmen Highstreet, London, NW1 OLT. You can google earth me if you'd like. I live above a shoe repair shop.
Send me mail! (But not until October).
As far as bank accounts, cell phones, and Internet goes - it's been one huge frustration after another. I can't get a cell phone because I don't have a UK credit history. I can't get a credit card because I am "seeking work" and don't have a previous UK bank account. In order to get credit history without a credit card I need to get Internet/cable set up and pay some bills. I can't pay bills until the end of October AND I can't pay bills without a bank account which I (originally) was told I couldn't get without a bill that showed my proof of address. Confusing, isn't it? This country is backasswards. But, I've got some things in motion that should have me set up with a bank card in two days, which lets me get a cell phone in 4 days, which will let me start getting credit, which will allow me to get Internet set up as soon as I move into my studio.
Anyway, things are slowly falling into place. It will take me another 3 or 4 weeks to really get settled (I wish I could move in sooner) but I think it's going to be ok. I can't log on to facebook from these computers because it is restricted for the safety of the children or something. I apologize for the delay in response - I might be able to get on a non restricted computer tomorrow...
Hope every thing's going well back Texas way - give me some gossip! I am dying for it!
So, a real quick update on my semi-success here:
I have found an "apartment". I like to call it a 2 story, 2 bed flat. That sounds much nicer that 120 sq foot box with lofted sleeping and sofa bed. I can't move in until the first of October and I am going to do some serious redecorating (paint, light fixtures, etc) so when I can Ill get some pictures up so you can see. It's tiny, but in a really good location and sort of more cozy tiny than depressing tiny. I am only a 2 minute walk from the mornington crescent tube station and only 5 minutes from this rather trendy night life area of Cadmen Locks. My future address is: Flat 4, 84 Cadmen Highstreet, London, NW1 OLT. You can google earth me if you'd like. I live above a shoe repair shop.
Send me mail! (But not until October).
As far as bank accounts, cell phones, and Internet goes - it's been one huge frustration after another. I can't get a cell phone because I don't have a UK credit history. I can't get a credit card because I am "seeking work" and don't have a previous UK bank account. In order to get credit history without a credit card I need to get Internet/cable set up and pay some bills. I can't pay bills until the end of October AND I can't pay bills without a bank account which I (originally) was told I couldn't get without a bill that showed my proof of address. Confusing, isn't it? This country is backasswards. But, I've got some things in motion that should have me set up with a bank card in two days, which lets me get a cell phone in 4 days, which will let me start getting credit, which will allow me to get Internet set up as soon as I move into my studio.
Anyway, things are slowly falling into place. It will take me another 3 or 4 weeks to really get settled (I wish I could move in sooner) but I think it's going to be ok. I can't log on to facebook from these computers because it is restricted for the safety of the children or something. I apologize for the delay in response - I might be able to get on a non restricted computer tomorrow...
Hope every thing's going well back Texas way - give me some gossip! I am dying for it!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
2 More Days
I have two more days until I leave for England.
I have new glasses that barely look like glasses (see photo).
I have pretty, fixed up hair.
I have the paper work started for my bank account in London.
I have my British Passport (complete with, perhaps, one of the worst photos of me ever).
I have appointments(ish) set up with a few letting agencies.
I have tickets to see Spamalot on Tuesday night.
I have an interview with a media agency in London (ew. media. But, maybe it'll be something).
I have new glasses that barely look like glasses (see photo).
I have pretty, fixed up hair.
I have the paper work started for my bank account in London.
I have my British Passport (complete with, perhaps, one of the worst photos of me ever).
I have appointments(ish) set up with a few letting agencies.
I have tickets to see Spamalot on Tuesday night.
I have an interview with a media agency in London (ew. media. But, maybe it'll be something).
I have no sense at all - I think I must be bat shit crazy to be doing this. But hey, what sane person ever had real fun?
Thursday, August 23, 2007
18 hours later...
BJ and I made it to Florida at 5 pm last night. It really wasn't as bad of a drive as I thought it was going to be.
We left at 1o on Tuesday and drove towards Shreveport. We got out of Texas in about 2 hours and then turned south to meet up with I-10 around Lafayette. Louisiana is a long, very tall, state. We spent about more than half of the first 13 hours in LA... and there isn't a whole lot to see. Except(!), the "live tiger exhibit" at a gas station in Gross Tete. Yep, in the middle of no where Louisiana there is a tiger sitting in a cage with a jet of water spraying on him to keep him cool. And it isn't even an Exxon...
We spent the night is Defuniack Springs, Florida and only had about 5 hours in the car the second day. We got in right before rush hour, which was nice. Last night we went to the local Indian Casino where they gave us $40 for opening a player's club account and were handing out a lot of $2 beer. A few beers and 40 (free) dollars later I was out of money - i blew it all on a sot machine that I had payed me big on the cruise... and there was a cat involved that looked like Bruce; my gambling methods are amazing. BJ played some poker and ended up ahead by about $30 (which if you count the money my mom and dad gave him for the trip and the free casino money, he was really up about $280). It was, all around, a pretty fun night.
We have to take Bj to the airport today and then I've got a list about a mile long my mom has for me to get done in the next 6 days. I got my British Passport in the mail just before I left Dallas. It's very pretty. I am all official now.
We left at 1o on Tuesday and drove towards Shreveport. We got out of Texas in about 2 hours and then turned south to meet up with I-10 around Lafayette. Louisiana is a long, very tall, state. We spent about more than half of the first 13 hours in LA... and there isn't a whole lot to see. Except(!), the "live tiger exhibit" at a gas station in Gross Tete. Yep, in the middle of no where Louisiana there is a tiger sitting in a cage with a jet of water spraying on him to keep him cool. And it isn't even an Exxon...
We spent the night is Defuniack Springs, Florida and only had about 5 hours in the car the second day. We got in right before rush hour, which was nice. Last night we went to the local Indian Casino where they gave us $40 for opening a player's club account and were handing out a lot of $2 beer. A few beers and 40 (free) dollars later I was out of money - i blew it all on a sot machine that I had payed me big on the cruise... and there was a cat involved that looked like Bruce; my gambling methods are amazing. BJ played some poker and ended up ahead by about $30 (which if you count the money my mom and dad gave him for the trip and the free casino money, he was really up about $280). It was, all around, a pretty fun night.
We have to take Bj to the airport today and then I've got a list about a mile long my mom has for me to get done in the next 6 days. I got my British Passport in the mail just before I left Dallas. It's very pretty. I am all official now.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Last Days in Dallas
My time in Dallas as been incredibly easy going. I spent my days working out, reading, dining, and putzing (there was a lot of putzing).
My dad really got into guitar hero while I had it here. We had a bonding day which consisted of playing two hours of guitar hero and then watching the new Dawn of the Dead (both his selection unaided by me).
I went and saw Invasion. It was alright. Overall I would say it entertained me, but there was such a heavy handed political message (particularly in the ending) that I was left with a sour taste in my mouth and, therefore, don't really feel like recommending it to anyone.
I also saw Superbad - that I will highly recommend. I was about to launch into a big discussion about Judd Apatow and how stellar his directorial style is, but I just looked it up and Judd Apatow did not direct Superbad (according to the article "Breaking: ‘Superbad’ Director Greg Mottola Is Not Judd Apatow"). Well, I suppose my point still stands: I was really impressed by this film's (and other movies like 'Knocked Up') ability to be an on-the-surface-silly-masterpiece-of-immature-humor flick while also boasting some of the more realistic and honest characters seen in movies today. I once read an interview with Judd Apatow in which he discussed how this is basically his goal in movie making - to develope characters that people identify with on a frightening personal level. It seems to have rubbed off on Greg Mottola. Superbad is hilarious and absurd, but at the same time does a pretty damn good job of portraying what it really is to be that drunk girl on the floor at a party giggling, "I fell down" (not to mention how that girl feels the next day). I may have felt something for that girl... overall, a seriously excellent movie.
Jeremy and I had our graduation celebration last night. We started out at Javiers for dinner; this really lovely gourmet Mexican place. Afterwards, we kept the shnaz at full throttle and made our way to the Main Event for an hour of bowling. Let it be known that I won all three games. I am a bowling machine. After dominating Jeremy at the lanes, we headed downtown for dessert and wine and the Ritz Carlton's new restaurant, Farrings. I don't think I have ever been to a nicer place, it was just incredible. The host took us on a little tour around the place before seating us - the walls were covered in suede, there were amazing light fixtures everywhere, the art work was all different designs made with amber, there were 2 bars (one inside on out), 3 dining areas (a more traditional atrium room, a sort of hunter's club looking room with these Awesome high backed white arm chairs that would make anyone look important, and then a dining area built around a kitchen so you could watch the chefs, this is where we ate). Our water cost $8 and I received many apologies from the waiter when he saw me refilling my own glass. The whole place was the definition of high class. Oh right, and the food was stellar as well. It was a really really nice evening.
I went and said goodbye to my grandparents today. It's the only goodbye that has made me cry. I am absolutely certain that I will see everyone else again, even if it is not until December. But there is a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was the last time I'll see y grandparents. Very sad thought indeed.
Tomorrow, Bjesus and I are driving to Florida. I can't say I am excited about being in a car for 18 hours, but I am glad Bj is coming with me. I'll be sure to let you know we made it without incident.
You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone. You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.
My dad really got into guitar hero while I had it here. We had a bonding day which consisted of playing two hours of guitar hero and then watching the new Dawn of the Dead (both his selection unaided by me).
I went and saw Invasion. It was alright. Overall I would say it entertained me, but there was such a heavy handed political message (particularly in the ending) that I was left with a sour taste in my mouth and, therefore, don't really feel like recommending it to anyone.
I also saw Superbad - that I will highly recommend. I was about to launch into a big discussion about Judd Apatow and how stellar his directorial style is, but I just looked it up and Judd Apatow did not direct Superbad (according to the article "Breaking: ‘Superbad’ Director Greg Mottola Is Not Judd Apatow"). Well, I suppose my point still stands: I was really impressed by this film's (and other movies like 'Knocked Up') ability to be an on-the-surface-silly-masterpiece-of-immature-humor flick while also boasting some of the more realistic and honest characters seen in movies today. I once read an interview with Judd Apatow in which he discussed how this is basically his goal in movie making - to develope characters that people identify with on a frightening personal level. It seems to have rubbed off on Greg Mottola. Superbad is hilarious and absurd, but at the same time does a pretty damn good job of portraying what it really is to be that drunk girl on the floor at a party giggling, "I fell down" (not to mention how that girl feels the next day). I may have felt something for that girl... overall, a seriously excellent movie.
Jeremy and I had our graduation celebration last night. We started out at Javiers for dinner; this really lovely gourmet Mexican place. Afterwards, we kept the shnaz at full throttle and made our way to the Main Event for an hour of bowling. Let it be known that I won all three games. I am a bowling machine. After dominating Jeremy at the lanes, we headed downtown for dessert and wine and the Ritz Carlton's new restaurant, Farrings. I don't think I have ever been to a nicer place, it was just incredible. The host took us on a little tour around the place before seating us - the walls were covered in suede, there were amazing light fixtures everywhere, the art work was all different designs made with amber, there were 2 bars (one inside on out), 3 dining areas (a more traditional atrium room, a sort of hunter's club looking room with these Awesome high backed white arm chairs that would make anyone look important, and then a dining area built around a kitchen so you could watch the chefs, this is where we ate). Our water cost $8 and I received many apologies from the waiter when he saw me refilling my own glass. The whole place was the definition of high class. Oh right, and the food was stellar as well. It was a really really nice evening.
I went and said goodbye to my grandparents today. It's the only goodbye that has made me cry. I am absolutely certain that I will see everyone else again, even if it is not until December. But there is a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was the last time I'll see y grandparents. Very sad thought indeed.
Tomorrow, Bjesus and I are driving to Florida. I can't say I am excited about being in a car for 18 hours, but I am glad Bj is coming with me. I'll be sure to let you know we made it without incident.
You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone. You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
for real?
I shipped half of my worldly possessions to England yesterday. Now, $200 and 24 hrs later, no one can really tell me where they are. That's not entirely true. They know they are somewhere over the Atlantic and they know that they are not accompanied by the proper customs forms. Apparently, in the hour I spent filling out paper work at FedEx, it didn't occur to anyone to tell me one of those forms needed to be notarized. The very smart people employed at FedEx called me last night informing of the problem but went ahead and shipped them anyway before I got there this morning to fix it.
In theory it'll all be ok. Customs is done by random draw. If they don't pick mine to search, no worries. If they do, they will notice the lack of paperwork and hold my items "until they decide otherwise". I'm not sure what that phrase means, but I am scared it means I am never getting my stuff back.
This whole mishap has done more than aggravate me; it has made this whole "moving" thing real. I am actually leaving. In 17 days. Gone. I haven't been worried about it until now. I have been in the position (here in Dallas) of explaining my plan to Friends and family on a twice daily basis. The repetition has really drilled into my head the fact that I have no plan. None. Freaky.
I hope my stuff shows up. And I hope my life works out. My confidence is faltering, but for the time being it is still there. I am (somewhat) confident that this is a good idea.
In theory it'll all be ok. Customs is done by random draw. If they don't pick mine to search, no worries. If they do, they will notice the lack of paperwork and hold my items "until they decide otherwise". I'm not sure what that phrase means, but I am scared it means I am never getting my stuff back.
This whole mishap has done more than aggravate me; it has made this whole "moving" thing real. I am actually leaving. In 17 days. Gone. I haven't been worried about it until now. I have been in the position (here in Dallas) of explaining my plan to Friends and family on a twice daily basis. The repetition has really drilled into my head the fact that I have no plan. None. Freaky.
I hope my stuff shows up. And I hope my life works out. My confidence is faltering, but for the time being it is still there. I am (somewhat) confident that this is a good idea.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
The end of an era
My last night in Austin proved very entertaining. We overstayed out welcome at the Dog and Duck and proceeded to hang out way too late with the few reamining friends at a house down the street. I got to see, pretty much, everyone I wanted to and got all the hugs I needed. I also got a Dog and Duck t-shirt and porceline Smithwicks tap from dear Chris Kelly. I am still a little unclear on the how and why of that. But let it be known, Chris is an excellent negotiator.
I had lunch this morning with Kelly, Blair, Christine, Blake, and Bobo before taking to the road and leaving Austin behind me. I selected the Bjesus Accoustic Mix as my soundtrack - the same CD I listened to when I drove to Colorado for my freshman year of college. It will also be the CD that takes me to Florida, and I am sure, the CD that will take me out of the country. I think that's important, and it makes me happy.
I made it through the first 40 mintues of the drive before I cried. It was a rather strange moment actually. I didn't feel any saddness swelling up inside me. Instead, as I was singing along to Brand New's "Play Crack the Sky", I was hit by this wave of nostalgia and longing. I let out one or two tears and then felt completely composed again. I think its a good sign that I didn't cry the whole trip (i.e. my initial drive to Colorado, and we all know how that turned out). I didn't really cry much at all. I texted Kelly:
me: I made it 40 minutes before I got sad. Can I come home to Austin now?
Kelly: Aw! You can always come back, but now its time to be having exciting adventures!
me: Yes. Right. Adventures!
Kelly: Go Forth! Slay Dragons!
me: Someone has to slay that dragon...
Kelly: Shelley, that dragon is not going to slay itself.
Nothing has ever been as inspirational.
Though I am, quite obviously, going to be sad about leaving Austin, I don't feel sad. This is, I think, a good start. *deleted content* The point here is that I am "home" and will be for the next 11 days. Those of you in Dallas, please take the time to hug me.
For my dear Austinites, some lyrics I found particularly fitting for my drive:
its the best friends that make you
sometimes they break you
its the best friends that move you
in my case see through you
its the best friends that need you
in my case believe you
its the best friends lives kiss you
in my case I'll miss you
I had lunch this morning with Kelly, Blair, Christine, Blake, and Bobo before taking to the road and leaving Austin behind me. I selected the Bjesus Accoustic Mix as my soundtrack - the same CD I listened to when I drove to Colorado for my freshman year of college. It will also be the CD that takes me to Florida, and I am sure, the CD that will take me out of the country. I think that's important, and it makes me happy.
I made it through the first 40 mintues of the drive before I cried. It was a rather strange moment actually. I didn't feel any saddness swelling up inside me. Instead, as I was singing along to Brand New's "Play Crack the Sky", I was hit by this wave of nostalgia and longing. I let out one or two tears and then felt completely composed again. I think its a good sign that I didn't cry the whole trip (i.e. my initial drive to Colorado, and we all know how that turned out). I didn't really cry much at all. I texted Kelly:
me: I made it 40 minutes before I got sad. Can I come home to Austin now?
Kelly: Aw! You can always come back, but now its time to be having exciting adventures!
me: Yes. Right. Adventures!
Kelly: Go Forth! Slay Dragons!
me: Someone has to slay that dragon...
Kelly: Shelley, that dragon is not going to slay itself.
Nothing has ever been as inspirational.
Though I am, quite obviously, going to be sad about leaving Austin, I don't feel sad. This is, I think, a good start. *deleted content* The point here is that I am "home" and will be for the next 11 days. Those of you in Dallas, please take the time to hug me.
For my dear Austinites, some lyrics I found particularly fitting for my drive:
its the best friends that make you
sometimes they break you
its the best friends that move you
in my case see through you
its the best friends that need you
in my case believe you
its the best friends lives kiss you
in my case I'll miss you
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
I'm Homeless!
The plan for the next month:
Simpson's Feast/Master Pancake August 1
Hairspray (viewing #2; it rocks) August 2
Winedale August 3 - 5
Salt Lick August 6th
Last night in Austin: August 7th.
Before I go, I reallly, REALLY, want to see the bats. Anyone want to go with me?
Dallas August 8 - 2o (during which time there are several movies I must see including Superbad, The Golden Compass, Stardust. I will also need to consume a sick amount of Tex-Mex and BBQ. Sadly, I can't think of any hot spots I feel the need to hit before I go)
Leaving Dallas August 21st (with BJesus to drive to Florida. Excitement!)
Florida August 22 - September 1
Land in England the morning of September 2nd. One month from today - wacky.
Someone stole my bike. I had it locked up on a railing for the past 3 months and just in the last few days someone decided to kick in said railing and take off with my bike. Tis' unfortunate; it was a really nice bike. But, it is nice to not have to worry about driving it up to Dallas. Oh well.
I've been kicked out of my house - one step closer to leaving Austin and being officially homeless. =(
Simpson's Feast/Master Pancake August 1
Hairspray (viewing #2; it rocks) August 2
Winedale August 3 - 5
Salt Lick August 6th
Last night in Austin: August 7th.
Before I go, I reallly, REALLY, want to see the bats. Anyone want to go with me?
Dallas August 8 - 2o (during which time there are several movies I must see including Superbad, The Golden Compass, Stardust. I will also need to consume a sick amount of Tex-Mex and BBQ. Sadly, I can't think of any hot spots I feel the need to hit before I go)
Leaving Dallas August 21st (with BJesus to drive to Florida. Excitement!)
Florida August 22 - September 1
Land in England the morning of September 2nd. One month from today - wacky.
Someone stole my bike. I had it locked up on a railing for the past 3 months and just in the last few days someone decided to kick in said railing and take off with my bike. Tis' unfortunate; it was a really nice bike. But, it is nice to not have to worry about driving it up to Dallas. Oh well.
I've been kicked out of my house - one step closer to leaving Austin and being officially homeless. =(
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Tentative Schedule
I have less than a week until I need to be out of my house in Austin. At that point, I will be living out of 4 giant suitcases. Who'd of thought I could fit my life into such a small space. You would all be very proud of me - I got rid of about 15 garbage bags of clothes and 20 pairs of shoes. This made me rather sad. That is, until I realized that I still have 4 suitcases of clothes and roughly 25 pairs of shoes left over. Yeah, I own a lot of crap. I still have some things I am trying to get rid of: a bookcase, my TV, my couch, a set of flatware. If you need any of these things more than goodwill does, let me know and I'll find a way to get them to you.
So, the plan for the next five weeks...
Brandan is graciously taking a few things as well as Bruce to Dallas this weekend. I get kicked out of my house Tuesday and will live out of my car until Friday, when I go to Winedale for the weekend. Ill be back on the 5th and probably head to Dallas shortly thereafter to spend some time with family and friends for a week or two. Around the 17th I am going to drive to Florida. There is a spot (maybe two) in that car for anyone who wants to drive with me and get flown back. Ill spend two weeks in Tampa. On September 1st my mom and I will fly to London.
So, quick summary. My last night in Austin looks like it will be the 5th or 6th of August. Last night in Dallas the 16th or 17th. Please see me. I am going to miss everyone like mad.
On another note, I got the 80s encore edition of guitar hero today. It was rockin' pretty hard core until I got stuck on "what I like about you". Brandan, Jeremy, and I passed the guitar around for about a hour with each of us consistently failing at 30% each time. ARG! What other glorious songs of the 80s am I missing?! It seems as though I will never know. My hands hurt and my eyes have gone all screwy. What a brilliant game.
So, the plan for the next five weeks...
Brandan is graciously taking a few things as well as Bruce to Dallas this weekend. I get kicked out of my house Tuesday and will live out of my car until Friday, when I go to Winedale for the weekend. Ill be back on the 5th and probably head to Dallas shortly thereafter to spend some time with family and friends for a week or two. Around the 17th I am going to drive to Florida. There is a spot (maybe two) in that car for anyone who wants to drive with me and get flown back. Ill spend two weeks in Tampa. On September 1st my mom and I will fly to London.
So, quick summary. My last night in Austin looks like it will be the 5th or 6th of August. Last night in Dallas the 16th or 17th. Please see me. I am going to miss everyone like mad.
On another note, I got the 80s encore edition of guitar hero today. It was rockin' pretty hard core until I got stuck on "what I like about you". Brandan, Jeremy, and I passed the guitar around for about a hour with each of us consistently failing at 30% each time. ARG! What other glorious songs of the 80s am I missing?! It seems as though I will never know. My hands hurt and my eyes have gone all screwy. What a brilliant game.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
A new life
I am switiching over to blogspot. Why? Well, first of all, I like to copy Carmen. Secondly, I am consolidating. I've got two or three blogs I don't really use and I think it's time to scrap them and post everything in one place. The real reason though, or at least my optimistic reason, is that I would like to use this as one place where everyone can come and check in on my European adventure.
As of right now, there isn't much to report. Except that it is now official; I am moving to England. My mom and I are leaving the first week of September. She will be there a week to help me find a place and get set up (thank god) and then I'll be on my own. Any by on my own I mean surrounded by more family than I have had my whole life as well as a good friend or two to keep me company.
Between now and then there is so much to do. I need to finalize all this passport stuff. Anyone known me for two years and consider themselves a civil servant or professional? If so, I need you to countersign some stuff for me. I need to pack up, sell, donate, or burn all of my possessions. In the next week I should have a good idea of what I am giving away. I'll make sure to post that for those of you who want to pillage. I also need to consolidate my financials, get Bruce's papers and shots figured out (that's right, he's coming with me), see one of every doctor you can imagine before my insurance runs out, and get my car to Florida.
This is weird. But I am excited. I hope it all works out the way I imagine it will - or, if it can't be so ideal, I just ask that it works well enough. In the end, if I find myself over there and miserable with nothing falling into place, I can always come home. And I'll come home with no regrets. That's the beauty of life, you can almost always start over.
As of right now, there isn't much to report. Except that it is now official; I am moving to England. My mom and I are leaving the first week of September. She will be there a week to help me find a place and get set up (thank god) and then I'll be on my own. Any by on my own I mean surrounded by more family than I have had my whole life as well as a good friend or two to keep me company.
Between now and then there is so much to do. I need to finalize all this passport stuff. Anyone known me for two years and consider themselves a civil servant or professional? If so, I need you to countersign some stuff for me. I need to pack up, sell, donate, or burn all of my possessions. In the next week I should have a good idea of what I am giving away. I'll make sure to post that for those of you who want to pillage. I also need to consolidate my financials, get Bruce's papers and shots figured out (that's right, he's coming with me), see one of every doctor you can imagine before my insurance runs out, and get my car to Florida.
This is weird. But I am excited. I hope it all works out the way I imagine it will - or, if it can't be so ideal, I just ask that it works well enough. In the end, if I find myself over there and miserable with nothing falling into place, I can always come home. And I'll come home with no regrets. That's the beauty of life, you can almost always start over.
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