Quick Trip down Memory Lane

"Life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone"

The problem with being away from home for an extended period of time is that life actually does go on without you. No matter how much you live, you see, or you learn over the course of your trip, people at home just carry on with their lives. When you get back, all you want to do is talk about what you’ve done and how overwhelming things were while you were gone. Of course, many people are interested in what you have to say, but to most others it’s nothing new.

Since I’ve moved out, my old bedroom has been transformed into a storage facility soon-to-be workout room. The basement, which used to house all of my furniture, has been modified into a room full of chairs and my two ratty old couches have been replaced by one nice leather one and two lazy boy recliners. My TV is still the centre of attention in the entertainment unit, but the sound surround/home theatre stereo system I had has been emptied off the shelves and been replaced by nothing. My Playstation is now in its box and serves virtually no purpose. Heck, my bathroom has even taken on the role of primary wash centre!

Things I’ve missed, but not really known I missed:
- Looking left while crossing the road
- Being cold
- Vietnamese Subs
- Driving
- Having an alarm clock
- Dryer for clothes
- Properly heater and pressurized plumbing

Nostalgia, I suppose would be the best way to describe the week that has just passed. Snowboarding at Sunshine Village, where I pretty much grew up as both a skier and a snowboarder; Cowboys Nightclub: it’s “the most fun you can have with your boots on” and, of course, home of Thursday Night 25c Draft; 17th avenue SW, home of the Red Mile; Calgary Flames Hockey!; my old Isuzu Trooper; the list goes on, but most importantly friends and family.

Thanks to everyone who came to my surprise party and thanks to everyone who I’ve seen over the past week. This week is a short entry and since I am not in England, there is no new English cultural point to be discussed.

Moral of the story is: I’m headed back out of the country in about an hour. Rumour has it, Papa loves Mambo, so Las Vegas, here I come!

Trains, Planes and Automobiles

“Have you ever seen a real Eskimo?”

A couple weeks ago, I was up in a small city called Northampton. From London, it is no more than 45 minutes by train and I’ll admit, not as bad a town as one might expect. It has a nice little market in the town centre, they have a nice four level mall, plenty of small and franchised businesses and they even have a few McDonald’s locations. I DO understand that things cost less in a small town and maybe people don’t like the hustle and bustle of the big city. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with living in a town. After all, everyone needs a little place to call their own. Northamptonites, like residents of any other city in the world, take pride in their city. Nothing surprising. What I found absolutely outstanding, however, something that still blows my mind whenever I think about it, was the fact that many people had never been outside of the city. I’ll admit that it was my first time outside the greater London area since I had arrived, but I’ll reassure you that my own curiosity and sense of adventure was eating me up inside.

So, without any further adieu, this week’s English cultural topic:

TRAVEL

The british, I suppose are just like any other country’s people, the upbringing is to accept a multicultural society, they learn about the same world’s historic events and often when you go traveling, you’ll meet one. This is why it was so difficult for me to grasp the fact that people from a town less than an hour from London had never even been to London.
London is a HUGE. History, fashion, sites, sounds, big city life! It’s beyond me how people wouldn’t at least go in for the afternoon or something, especially with the reputation the brits have earned as world travelers. On the plane today, it’s about a 50/50 split between English and others. I guess there at least a few curious ones left after all.

Today is Sunday. Sure, I’m going home for a couple weeks. Sure, the party I went to last night was freekin unbelievable. No, I didn’t get to sleep in after a big night out. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t absolutely exhausted right now, but do you know what keeps me going?
I will have traveled over 8000 km today and I’m going to have seen the sunset in two different countries. As I write this sentence, I am somewhere over the atlantic chasing the daylight. When we took off from the airport in Glasgow, the sun was just going down, later on tonight, I’ll get to see it again.


Now, I’m not going to lie, traveling with a laptop does definitely makes life a great deal more enjoyable on the airplane, but the point of my bringing it along was not to complain about things that could have been better. But that’s kind of lame. Sure, maybe hospitality class is not all as hospitable as one might like, but don’t worry about it. That goes for life as well. I’m living my life. It seems like whenever I take a flight I just get the unceasing urge to write about the airplane, or air travel, or how packed it is, or how today I actually got a pretty decent window seat that doesn’t have the view obstructed by the wing, or how someone on the plane is wearing too much perfume, or whatever. I try to make clever comments based on the slogan of the airline, or complain about how much transfers to the airport cost, how slow the connection was in Scotland, how expensive the headsets are and how I’m always forced to buy a new one because I’m too stupid to just remember the many that I have at home. But I’ve pretty much covered it all in the past two sentences, so I’ll spare you the details.

The coolest part about travel for me is that I’m the one doing it. There is so much to learn in the world, but there is only so much you can learn from reading about it. So obviously for me, the value in traveling is learning. The difference is between actually experiencing something, rather than being told about it. In my travels, there have been cynics; there have been people who told me to stay in Canada figure things out and then head off, but there’s not adventure in that for me. My goal now, is to fill up my passport before it expires. I think most people get really bogged down in the routine, which, don’t get me wrong, can be nice. I’ve probably talked about this before, but I’m at a point in my life where everyone is getting settled into their lives and mine is still up in the air. Literally.

So no, I have never actually met an Eskimo face to face, but the fact is there is so much to see, so much to experience and so much to learn. Just remember that when you see a photo, someone had to be there with their camera.

I want to be that someone.

I'm dreaming of a...

...green/brown/grey/white Christmas?

Today, I had to wear the heaviest coat I brought with me to London. I’ve been told I look like a number of people over the past couple of months: Superman/Clark Kent; “the anything mix”; Ray from X-Factor; Fabregas from the Arsenal football club; the “guy from Canada who says ‘awesome’ like some Californian surfer guy”; and many more. Sometimes people even think that when I speak I’m Irish, but I think that’s just because they’re ignorant. However, the one thing I am NOT is a someone who gets cold easily. A person being cold on account of the outside temperature can only mean one of two things: i) you’re in the Arctic or the Antarctic or ii) it’s winter. Well, winter has finally arrived.

I was actually going to hold out addressing this topic, but upon further consideration, I have decided that today, a day that is one day past my self-imposed Sunday Post Deadline; I will give into fate and talk about what’s in the air. No, it’s not just pollution. “That” is this week’s English culture topic of the week:

CHRISTMAS

This past weekend marked the official kickoff to Christmas events in London. Christmas tree vendors began vending, the stores are now fully decorated, and because it is now just more than two weeks until the big day, people are becoming frantic. Finally, people are getting into the mix. Over this week and the next two weeks to come, thousands of British households will go into debt in order to finance their Christmas spending, just so they can, as the say, keep up with the Jones. This year’s hottest item? BOSE iPod docking station. Cool looking, but not overly practical.

Like every year though, it’s nice to see people get into the spirit of Christmas, buying for friends and family, setting up light displays in their yards, putting up ornaments and trees inside the house, hosting their very own “Office X-mas Factor”, rejoicing for peace on earth and mercy mild, singing Christmas carols in front of the fire… Unfortunately, I don’t have many friends, I don’t have a yard, setting up a tree would literally reduce my bedroom into a space slightly larger than a pudding can, and singing around a fire may become somewhat of a safety issue, considering my bedroom would already be mostly taken up by a Christmas tree.

Just like in Canada, retailers began advertising just after the end of Halloween (even though Halloween isn’t much of a big deal over here) and since the early goings of November there have been Christmas lights springing up all over the city in order to get into the festive spirit. I’ve actually been writing December in the month part of the date for the past 11 days, but the fact that it was actually December never really hit me until today.

Today, for some reason, it became December. The kind of winter I’m used to consists mostly of subzero temperatures and snow, a mix of sun and cloud and throw in the odd Chinook. Today in London, we had cloud cover, drizzle and 15mph winds. Why did it click today? I believe it’s because I’ll be home for a visit in one week. Seems like kind of a cop out, I know, but that’s fine. For as long as I can remember, the most important thing was to be with family for the big day. This year, I will continue the “tradition” of being with family for the holidays, but this year, I’ll be in hot and sunny, sin city of LAS VEGAS! I WAS dreaming of a white, Christmas, but I think I’ll spend this one in the desert…

Apparently Coca-Cola is credited with the image of Santa Claus that we have all come to know, cherish and recognize. To this day, many children depend on that same image to get them that bike, wagon or brand new Nintendo Wii.

So we understand why kids love it, but why to adults love Christmas so much? You go it. OPEN BAR! Although it’s apparently the norm and if as an employer you don’t do open bar you might as well all but kiss your staff goodbye (but not the good kind of mistletoe kiss you might expect - On the subject of mistletoe, I saw my very first real life mistletoe today. I know I was by myself, but still, it didn’t really make me want to kiss anyone – but I WOULD like to drink on someone else’s tab!)

They often say that eating too much isn’t healthy, but recent studies now suggest that a standard portion of Christmas dinner can actually be more detrimental to your health than originally though. In a normal meal consisting of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing and mixed greens, you are also looking at ingesting something in the mix of arsenic, lead, aluminum, cadmium, organo-chlorine pesticides. These heavy metals can lead to serious side effects like migraines, allergies and high blood pressure and can even amount to serious illness like autism, multiple sclerosis and Alzheimer’s. In effect, eating a plate full of turkey will not only make you drowsy, it will make you dead. Plus, you’ll be fat.

When all’s finally said and done, no one really wants to be fat…except maybe Santa – whatever he might actually look like.

Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

“Do you guys want to get off here?”
“Yeah, let’s get off.”

In London, you can get around on public transport in a number of ways: buses, overland trains, or underground trains.
Of course, no one ever talks about how cool the overland trains are, because frankly, they aren’t. Buses, even though they often come double-deckered, aren’t anything new to anybody. So, when walking is just going to take too long you’re only left with one possible option, which is consequently this week’s English Cultural Topic of the Week:


THE TUBE

The London Underground, aka The Tube, is hands down the fastest way to get around in London – provided you don’t get off at the wrong stop and/or miss your connection by a couple of seconds. I won’t say how long it takes from place to place, but it’s an excellent underground network and let’s leave it at that.

After getting off the tube, when you blow your nose, the tissue is black. I’ve learned that – contrary to my original belief that London was just incredibly polluted and it was soot from the regular air – the black is actually brake shoe powder from the trains. (Which came as a slight relief, but I then realized that either way I will be subjected to it. Incredible? Not really. It’s actually pretty gross.

The thing that really blows me away is that you can actually get an Underground that goes ABOVE ground! Doesn’t happen in the centre, but further out (where I don’t like to go) it DOES happen.

The number of times I have smoked my head on the yellow help-lift-yourself-out-of-your-seat-or-keep-your-balance-while-the-train-is-packed-and-moving bar is ridiculous. The number is two (2). The point is, it just shouldn’t ever happen.
While in other cities, they call the underground train a subway or a metro. Here, a subway is a pathway that goes underneath a road, kind of like a crosswalk or a bridge, but it goes underground, “sub-way”. And just like any other city, they have some stops that are virtually useless. Mornington Crescent is one of those stations. The name means nothing to anyone, including most people who could potentially get off at this stop, so I won’t spend too much time dwelling on it, but the fact that exists is pretty much just a waste of time, resources and labour.

Upon arrival of every stop, the prerecorded lady comes on the intercom and gives directions specific to the next stop. This may be what other underground or overland lines you can access at this stop, details about what doors you can and cannot (dis)embark from, or what kind of attractions are near by that might be of interest to tourists. This is also the way I’ve been learning how to mimic the London british accent. Unfortunately, up until now I have only perfected one sentence. It doesn’t have much effect in my spelling it out, but imagine me doing an automated version of this: “This station is Tottenham Court Road. Change here for Central Line.” The lady kind of sounds like the computer onboard the Starship Enterprise or a lady version of the robot from Lost in Space, but we still get along pretty well.

This week’s post comes on a Sunday instead of a Wednesday/Thursday because I’m headed out of town this week for work and won’t have a handy computer at my disposal. I’m thinking about changing my post date to weekends, since I, like most people, have the most free time on weekends. Besides, the most interesting things happen on the weekends; that work thing doesn’t get in the way of fun.


I’ve also noticed that no one has seemed too curious about what I’ve done for work. What this means is that a) no one reads these damn things, which means that I just write to appease myself, b) no one cares what I do for work, or c) (which I hope for everyone’s sake is the real reason) that everyone has just already figured it out for themselves. The only guess I’ve had came from my little (but taller than me) step-sister who guessed I was a stripper. She gets an A for thinking-outside-the-box, but gets an F for being way off. I’ll take the average. Luckily for her, Cs get degrees. Well, I’ll let the cat out of the bag; I’m in sales. The group of people I work with is really cool and everyone is incredibly positive and really supportive, so the work environment is great. But seriously, with all of the sentimental stuff out of the way, do you want to know the best part about my job?

I can’t get there by bus, there’s no direct overland, I don't have a car and it’s too far to walk…so tomorrow, like every day, I get to take the Tube!

The War on Climate Change

Today’s forecast: Mainly unpredictable with a 50% chance of uncertainty.

A few weeks ago there was a huge rally down at Trafalgar Square where they were protesting the overusage of fossil fuels and they had a big march through the streets promoting ways to prevent climate change, and improving nuclear power. But what is the root cause for all of this commotion? "Blame George W Bush," they said. I pretty much got a kick out of the whole thing.

This fall, the southeast of England is having record breaking highs through the late fall/early winter season. We’re getting up to average highs around 14C and the sun shines 5/7 days of the week. Weather on the other side of the Atlantic, however, is not quite so nice. Vancouver’s been boiling their water because of contaminated reservoirs and received over 6 inches of snow in the last week. Calgary is seeing highs around -28C but is expecting the weather to improve with the arrival of a high pressure system (Chinook) passing through the southern Rockies. Through the rest of the southern prairies they are looking at unseasonably low temperatures and Ontario, Quebec and the Maritimes are on watch for severe weather warnings.

That sucks. Which brings us to this week’s Cultural Subject of the Week is (you guessed it):

WEATHER

I’m here in the practically tropical (un)sunny London where it (doesn’t) stay light well into the night and it definitely isn't (definitely is) dark by 4pm had I known it was going to be such a short day, I wouldn't have moved here. (That’s obviously a lie). I’ve gotten a number of emails from friends as well as one from my mom (who is kind of like a friend) and a call from my dad (who is also a friend). They all tell me (which I later confirmed on a government website that it was cold, really cold, really really cold in Calgary...somewhere in the range of 35 to 40C colder than it is in London.

This past weekend, Calgary was expecting highs around -25C, with lows below -30C. Right now it's about 12C in London, so you do the math, that's almost 40C difference.

According to the Government of Canada Almanac, average temperature for this time of year in Calgary is -11C. What this means, is that on any normal year the temperature differential between Calgary and London is (give or take) 20C.

This seems like crazy ramble, but now I’m about to step it up a notch. (A notch, for those who don’t know, is an arbitrary measurement which makes reference to notches on a belt. Thus, the expression “stepping it up a notch” is similar to “taking it to the next level” and is simply a metaphoric way of improving or “making something better” and does not, in actual fact, have anything to do with real belts – which, you may remember, must be matched with your shoes.)

I expect that we can agree that Costa Rica is a tropical country. So, for argument sake, let's use Costa Rica as our tropical temperature median. Today, the high in San Jose, CR is 26C, which is consequently the average temperature for a Costa Rican November day. The difference between a normal temperature in Calgary for November and the actual temperature in CR today is 26+11 = 37C (which rounds up to 40C). What this means is that on an average November day, at any given time Calgary will be 40C colder than Costa Rica.

Where is this going?

As in any properly conducted scientific experiment, there are three variables, the dependent, the independent, and the controlled. For the sake of this scenario, Calgary will be the controlled (constant), the independent will be the ending point, and the dependent will be the temperature differential between normal Calgary and a tropical environment. Today (Tuesday), the difference between London and Calgary is over 40C, so in using Calgary as a constant reference point, using 40C as this case’s dependent temperature and finding a suitable match for this week’s temperature differential.

Therefore, relative to Calgary’s current temperature, London might as well be tropical.

Skewed logic? Probably. But no one ever said the weather made sense.

Hops, barley and multiculturalism

I’ve realized that even though the English may be behind in a few technological aspects, (a) cheap and imported cars, b) soft and pressurized water, and c) that if you keep your pubs open past 11, people will drink more and you will make more money…etc) they actually DO have a few things figured out.

Silly things that make sense: People in England walk on the left side of the sidewalk, but stand on the right side of an escalator; People are courteous enough to let other people disembark the train before they start piling on; Sales tax is included in the price and nobody tips service staff; people (or at least most guys) don’t wash their hands after using the toilet (even though I do); but the brightest thing the English have figured out brings us to this week’s “English Cultural Topic of the Week”:

Food

Britons were just recently put near the top of the list of overweight Europeans, lead only by the Germans and Italians, which means they are definitely doing SOMETHING right!

I would like to affirm (if that’s a word - as in reaffirm, but without the “re”, since it’s the first time it’s been mentioned) that there is no doubt that food here, (although many Brits would disagree) is no better than anywhere else in the world. Fish & Chips, Bangers & Mash, Chicken/Mince Meat/Worcester pie…all deep-fried, unsatisfying, and/or unhealthy. In other words: rubbish. I’ll be so bold as to say that the only good thing to come out of England is beer, and even then, most are just derivatives (or direct imports) of Irish Cream Ales or Belgian Pilsners…those limey bastards. Curry – which was stolen from the Indians – is probably the most creative dish an average English person will have ever learned how to cook , eaten, or let alone heard of.

I’ve taken to eating a certain “Meal Deal A” at a certain “Sam’s Chicken” fast food chain, where you get two fried chicken burgers and two packs for fries (yes, these ones are called fries, not chips) for a great deal. Four out of five days, this is my daily calorie intake. I understand it is unhealthy, but I’m poor; so step off.

It seems that the whole idea of consuming “something” is obesely over-rated (no pun intended), whether it’s food, car fuel (petrol), clothing, or simply bottled water. This week, for the first time in my life, I was actually called 'anti-social' for not being a smoker.

You can get mostly any kind of food here, as long as you want to pay for it. Last week we went for Thai food, which was pretty much spot on, but in the end cost about 20 times as much as it would have for half as much as if we were actually in Thailand.

Things I miss but never thought I would even slightly care about: Ichiban, Kraft dinner, microwave popcorn and Clamato. I suppose it’s the ease that I miss most about these things. Afterall, real tops microwave popcorn 9 times out of 10, but as far as Caesars are concerned, a Caesar isn’t a Caesar without the crisp tang of clam! (If you have no idea what Clamato is, go to Canada and try it mixed with vodka, Tabasco and Worchester, add a pickled green bean or a stick of celery and you’re in the mix!)

I ate at Burger King the other day. Thank you. Thank you very much. But no, that’s not the point. In Canada, a whopper meal (which is absolutely delicious) costs probably around $5-6, depending of course on what side you get and whether you want cheese, or single/double/triple, etc. The point is, here for a single whopper meal (no cheese), you’re looking at no less than 4.50 pounds (that’s over $9.50!). I didn’t think I would EVER in my life pay close to $10 for a fast food burger meal, but as my new motto states: “if it’s not the saturated fat that kills you, the exchange rate sure will!”

For the economists in the crowd, the Big Mac principle definitely applies here in England, but for those who are more interested in flavour, get this: Coca-Cola and McDonalds both taste pretty much the same as they do at home. Officially, there is really no true way to absolutely determine whether they are EXACTLY the same, but I guarantee that if you took a fry from a London McDonalds and flew back to Calgary, ordered fries and then did a taste test, Calgary’s would taste better.
On the flipside, if you then took the fry from Calgary, then came back to London, I guarantee the one from London would taste better. I suppose a nine hour flight will make any fry gross. All in all, if memory serves me correctly, a Big Mac’s a Big Mac, no matter where an immigrant or teenager makes it!

I was asked a number of times this week what Canada’s typical national food would be. Stupidly, I said steak (because I'm from the western prairies), but after more consideration, I suppose the best answer would be maple syrup – even though maple trees only grow in the east.

When it comes down to it, Canadians, just like the British, have pretty much perfected the multicultural thing, and in so doing, have done something most other countries haven’t been able to: eat delicious foods that aren’t our own. But let’s get serious. Who cares what you can create yourself as long as you can get it somewhere else for cheaper?

Cultural Static

“So Kai, what part of America are you from again?”

This post comes sooner than most, but because of technological advances in my flat, we’re back in business, baby! Also, some pretty exciting things happened this week.

I got the internet at my flat. And what that means is: CURRENT AMERICAN TV! WOOT!
Lost is freekin amazing (and even though the next episode doesn’t air until Feb 7, I’m still excited.
If you haven’t had the chance to check out HEROES (airs Monday nights on NBC) and/or The Office: An American Workplace (airs Thursdays nights, also on NBC) I recommend you all do it sans excuse.

Updates.

FRIENDS:
The one guy at work (from Egypt born in London) calls me his “accent brother”. What this really means, I’m still uncertain, but apparently he lived in America for a while and now just figures he sounds the part. I’ll admit, we ARE the people in the office who pronounce their Rs correctly, but when it really comes down to it, we’re just accent friends because we’re the only ones who don’t sound English, South or regular African or ESL. I think it’s kind of lame, but when it comes down to it I’ll take and make friends in pretty much any way possible.

ROUTINE:
Speaking of routine (which for the record is fine with me), everyone in the office has what they call “crews” and every Wednesday they have a “crew night”. Tonight we went bowling. And I absolutely put on a show – as usual. I bowled a pretty mediocre game in my books, but the fact that they all make more money than I do didn’t bother me after I wrecked them in the old 10-pin lane. The English also invented an 11-pin version of bowling too, but we didn’t play, because it’s actually made up and a couple of guys were just pulling my leg. The bowling alley we went to also has an ice rink…so maybe next week I can teach these blokes how to skate!


CULTURE:
Now, in 5 weeks of living in London I have covered a wide range of topics, from activities, sights, sounds and people, but have yet to acknowledge one very important topic. Sooooooooo, in the first of a [yet to be determined number] part series, I proudly present to you Cultural Topic Number One:

FASHION

Before I moved over I thought for sure no matter what I wore, not matter where I went, no matter who I hung out with, I KNEW for sure that I would be underdressed. A few of my friends even warned me with a “Really? You’re taking that shirt?” Well, as it turns out, Londoners idea of fashion isn’t much different than mine. Now, I’ll admit in the business world my one suit may not be the flashiest at the ball, but I can still hold my ground when push comes to shove.

After a great deal of thought, I have decided that even if I really want to fit in, I don’t actually have to change at all.

First, there are probably still a great deal of North Americans visiting for the fall season, because not matter how cold the Britons feel it is, it’s still warm for us Canadians.

Second, many people on the train still don’t realize that skinny ties haven’t been cool since the late 80s, if you’re wearing all black all blacks have to match and that no you cannot wear brown shoes with a black suit…even if it’s pinstriped.

Third, “ug boots”, no matter how short of a skirt you wear, are still not attractive. And no, the emo-trash look isn’t cool just because you have and English accent. Get a job, you hippie punk.

Fourth, if it’s cheap in London, it’s probably not very nice. I realized this when I fell victim to a “clearance sale” where I bought dress shirts for 5pounds. When I got home and took the tags off I didn’t like them anymore…go figure.

And fifth (and most importantly), the term “London High Fashion” is actually code for “wear whatever you want no matter how bad it looks because if you convince enough people wear the ugly style it will eventually become cool and if it’s cool then it will start to pick up in the rest of Europe, it will spread to Asia, and about a year later those damned Americans will start to like it.” So wait, does this mean that if enough Canadians come over to visit, GAP will continue to control the fashion world as we know it? (Even though people here think it looks cheap), the answer is infallibly yes.

I just hope that doesn’t all happen with sleeveless shirts and black leather gloves.


Until next week: Stay fit and have fun!

Next Stop: Normalcy

“Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.”

This will be posted on a different day than it was written. This is due to reasons that will be later explained. I’d like to go on record acknowledging that the save date for this draft is, in fact, the day I promised the next post would be ready for: Wednesday, November 8, 2006.

As my loyal followers (and those who have nothing better to do than be on MSN all day everyday) may have noticed, I have not been on Messenger for almost a week now. Worried? Well, don’t be. I’m sad too. Although, while you’re probably sad because you’re down one friend, I’m sad because I have no idea what is going on outside of London.

Speaking of people coming in to hang out in London (which I realize I hadn’t actually mentioned before that), Mike and Kate (and "the Moose!)(from Calgary) made it over from Tarare, France (where they live) this past weekend in hopes of catching up with some traditional Guy Fawkes (man who, once upon a time, tried to blow up the King of England) festivities.

Instead, we did: a bus tour, a live musical (Mary Poppins), a river boat tour, a walkabout to some pubs I knew, a walkabout to some pubs we just found by chance, a photo session of Buckingham Palace, a carnival in a hard-to-get-to park, and a fireworks show where I reckon we had a pretty excellent weekend! I was really glad to see them come out and invite you call to do the same (although you may be hard-pressed to get me out on another open-roofed bus tour when it’s below 10C!).

Sunday, I moved into a new flat. Rent payments, up until now, have been doing the dishes, mandatory going out for drinks when asked, buying the odd pizza, and keeping the fridge stocked full of a variety of beers and English ciders.
Simple, yeah? I agree. So needless to say, real/money rent hit me like a bag that has been lit on fire and filled with bricks, but then instead of bricks it’s just a big hand that reaches in and takes all of your money… But here’s the situation: I am now living in an area of central London called Euston. I understand that it is officially still in the borough of Camden, but technically in Somerton. What that all means, I still have yet to figure out. I live with a couple (though I have my own room) who are an Australian guy (where I’ll be able to pick up tips for my accent) and a Hungarian girl (who will hopefully one day teach me how to make a mean goulash). So far, they’re cool.

People always talk about getting into a routine, blah blah blah when you get into a job and suddenly everything just becomes custom. You get up, go to work, go home, eat dinner, go to bed, do it all tomorrow. Often, a change of pace is switching from a ham sandwich to turkey, or trying out a Big King rather than a Big Mac (which could lead into me ranting about how crap McDonald’s value menu items are here in London, but that’s another story for another day). And I’ll admit my life, after just one week of working, has become routine.

But get this: Start time: 10.30 – meet up at the office, for a quick meeting, maybe a little bit of recap of yesterday, yada yada… End Time: 9.30 (if we’re lucky). (and you thought you had it bad) By now, you must think that I’m a really hard worker, but when it comes down to it, I’m just average…but you’d do the same if you were on commission. (I still won’t flat out say what my job is on the blog, (maybe because I’m embarrassed) but I’ll let you all guess – that last one was a HUGE hint!) I’ve come to discover that routine can actually be an excellent way to both make AND save money. After all, if you can’t have fun exploring, you might as well have fun working! – or something.


When I moved out, my generous cousin gave me her old TV. Trouble is, it’s either a little bit broken or I’m little bit retarded. I’m hoping it’s the former. Problem: I can only get one station: BBC Two. (And yes, I tried changing the channel…) The way television works here in kind of cool. Non-peasant options for television are plentiful: cable, satellite, digi-cable, etc, but instead of just being able to pick up super fuzzy 4 or 5 channels with your TV antenna (like in Canada) a mandatory charge is paid annually by every home, flat and willing business which gives everyone picture perfect analog cable BBC channels one through four (what they call internal antenna), which gives quality entertainment, news, and sports 24 hours per day/7 days per week. The best part about the BBC (and probably the reason most people get something additional) is that British sitcoms are so great; they make you want to change the channel!

On my first night in the flat, I was told three things: a) that I marginally beat out two others for the room in the flat: an English guy and German girl. I made a joke about how by combining my heritages, you get both of those things… plus Japanese b) pull the handle up to flush, and c) I am probably the first ever Japanese guy to drink Guinness and enjoy it.

Is there any way we could verify that? If true, that would be amazing.

So why haven’t I been able to return your emails, hung out online, or downloaded any new movies, TV shows, or music in the past week? You guessed it! I don’t have the internet. This the fourth full day of living without, and as the minutes pass I become more and more anguished. But we’re scheduled to have it installed by the end of the week, which thankfully means that I’ll once again be able to stay in tune with pop culture. Of course, if this blog is posted before then, I guess I have already found a way…

Turns out, I'm a tourist.

So it has been brought to my attention that general consensus is that once I get a job I won’t be able to come up with enough interesting things to post in my blog every week. Today marks the end of my third week here and so far, so good. Thus, I was challenged. The challenge is that I MUST come up with at least one new post every week (midweek-ish) AND, it can’t be boring…otherwise I have to buy the Challenger dinner. Luckily, this blog is based on NON-day-to-day events, so it doesn’t matter that I’ll soon be routinized. I pretty much talk about anything, as long as it relates to being in London, or some weekend trip that I could do, or someone I saw walking down the street…the point is, I will not disappoint. Plus, I’m not even in my own flat yet…not that I’m bragging, (in fact, that’s more depressing than anything), and once all of the setup stages are done and the partying becomes standard practice, I will continue to prove myself to you, the readers. This is attempt number one:

Do you know those fluffy top hats with the union jack on the front that you always see tourists wearing on TV? (You know: the kind that you would never actually wear in public even if it was given to you as a gift on a dare but secretly want one because it’s so cliché?) Well, I’ll cautiously admit that I secretly want one; although I guess it’s no longer a secret. And I also want an England t-shirt. I’ll probably be able to resist the urge for now, but I can definitely see myself getting one before I move back home for good. I was at Buckingham Palace a couple weeks ago (yes, for the changing of the guards – which on a side note was way better than I expected since everyone really bummed it out before I went) and all I saw everywhere I went (in addition to the ceremony) were Italians wearing those hats. This got me thinking. Could this be a new fashion fad that the crazy Italian designers picking up on? Could you imagine Versace English fluffy hats? Dolce & Gabbana Union Jack flags? Giorgio Armani Big Ben logoed blazers? No. I doubt it. “Damn tourists”, I thought. But then it occurred to me: I’M A TOURIST! (Which means I’m technically allowed to buy a hat; and if there’s a will there’s a way!)

My being a tourist REALLY hit me last Saturday, (I know I wasn’t going to talk about day-to-day stuff in this blog, but I need a timeline for my stories, otherwise they’d become unrealistic and could easily be made up) when I went on a quest to find Abbey Road. Yes, the same Abbey Road that the Beatles shot their notorious “Abbey Road” album cover, the same Abbey Road where Abbey Road Studios are, and the same Abbey Road that tourist FLOCK to just to have their picture taken crossing the infamous intersection. I did the same, but due to technical difficulties and me apparently not being able to walk properly I didn’t get a good picture. Plus, it was cloudy…unlike the picture on the album. It’s clear I am not a Beatle.

This morning the scale of my life really hit me. Exactly one year and two days ago I was watching the Rolling Stones in Seattle, WA. One year and three days ago we dressed up for Halloween and made a “shark attack” video on Robson Street in Vancouver after a full day of driving through the Rockies. And the days leading up to that…one year and six days ago I had one of the single-most expensive day of my life – traveling in taxis, buses, airplane - a day where I touched ground in 4 different Central American countries and flew over all of the others – ranging from northwestern Yucatan peninsula in Mexico to Belize City to San Salvador to San Jose, CR all because of one huge bitch they called Hurricane Wilma. Madness, it was. Memories – the kind that would put Cats to shame. And now, just one year later I am once again not in Canada, so that just means there is still hope for the world, I reckon.

I counted my countries the other day. After now being in the UK, I counted 19. My cousin’s flat mate has been to 55, which needless to say, dwarfs me. I definitely look forward to increasing my number, but in my current state of not having expendable income (or ANY income, for that matter), I’ll probably start it up again in winter.

Also, Halloween was yesterday. I celebrated with candy and beer. (I drank the beer and ate the candy.) Kids don’t really DO Halloween here, save for grocery store advertising and drinking-aged costume shop purchases. That being said, I’m close to in Camden Town at the moment, so seeing people in goth uniforms/emo-trash pants (trousers) and/or crazy makeup is not uncommon practice.

Oh, and I got a job. No, I’ve never been so unexcited about accepting a job; no, I don’t see myself being in this place for very long; and if you ask me about the details, no, I won’t tell you. But that’s not the point. Job = Money = better life than having not money.

Better with pictures?

Oh, and Challenger: I accept.

yeesh…england made u stupid

On October 23, 2006, I did something that I haven’t done in years. I didn’t go outside for an entire day (even though I DID leave the flat). I had to go downstairs to let someone in, but I didn’t put on my shoes and I didn’t get any fresh air, so it counts. How could I possibly stay home in London? I agree: it IS silly. But responsibility has taken over and the job hunt has officially started.

There are tons of jobs available here, but the only problem is that I’m completely under qualified for every single one of the fun sounding ones (and that’s being generous!). I was thinking about just being stupid and working in pubs all year, but then I learned they only get paid like 4.5 pounds per hour and unless you're working in a restaurant, there's no tipping whatsoever...not even on something that costs 2.99 and you give 3. It means pockets full of change (including 2 pence pieces, which are my most hated of all currency pieces). It's sick. But so far I think I’m enjoying my job search here more than I did the one I did last fall. In three days I’ve already received more rejection letters than I did in all of 2005! Prospective employers sure are courteous here…

Last weekend I was able to give my cousin a rest from me piggy backing off of her friends. A friend of mine from Calgary who is going to school in Nottingham came down to London for the weekend with some of her schoolmates. Unfortunately, we started too late in the evening and all of the pubs were closed, so we headed out in Soho. Since Soho is the closest London has to a red light district, we spent most of the night dodging gay bars and packed clubs, then eventually gave up. But it was fun anyway. The second night, after they all had extremely successful shopping sprees Oxford Circus, we went to one of London’s biggest clubs, Fabric.

If you thought clubs were retardedly busy and/or expensive during The Stampede, come to London. People bribe Canadian bouncers less on a super packed night than one person pays to get into this place on a normal night. It's alright though; I’m practically made of money…or at least I was. That is no longer my slogan.

Also, for those of you who were worried, you were correct in doing so. There is no Halloween in the UK. What that means is that I won’t be able to dress up as the notorious Kim Jong Il and as such, I will not be able to display my nuclear arms – but it’s probably for the best. I don’t know if London’s ready yet.

I am currently working on a way to download pictures off of my camera. I forgot my USB cord in Canada. So yes, I’m stupid…but you can’t blame England. I’ve always been stupid.

Progress Report...or so to speak

I figured I should be in a slightly goofier mood to write these things, but all I’ve done all day is…pretty much nothing. As such, I’m having a sort of writer’s block of sorts.

I’d like to start out by apologizing for not writing more about what I’ve seen, where I’ve been, and who I was with, but I always get kind of annoyed when people feel the need to outline day to day activities step by step in ultra-precise detail:
“So I went to the grocery today and it cost 7.39. As I paid with a 10 note, which was strange because usually I only have 5s and 20s. I left the store, the bum asked me for some change, I said no, then walked 43 steps to the apartment. I could have done it in 38, but my footing was off and because I was holding bags, I couldn’t skip any steps. I then sat down on the couch and watched paint dry for 62 minutes until I fell asleep. I was enthralling. And watching paint dry is about as interesting as a blog would be if it were laid out like that.”
That's just not me.

So I do in fact have a mobile phone, but it seems I have a huge lack of friends. Not that I’m necessarily encouraging your calls (technical difficulties receiving - apparently reception's not so clear coming from North American phones). But procrastination seems to be the trend, I spend most of my time on MSN with my friends from home, probably avoiding the task of making new and real friends. I DID come close though...

Yes, I went to the bar by myself the other night. No, not to “sarge” (and if you don’t know what sarging is, don’t worry about it, it’s kind of an inside thing), but because the rest of my party decided to bail halfway through the “pub-crawl” we had created. (Brits couldn't keep up with the Canadian Kid) It was actually surprisingly fun. I made some temporary friends (temporary because I’ll never see them again), some different temporary friends and nearly made some enemies of young hoodlums (who threatened to beat me up) accusing me of being a snitch (aka a cop), which, for those who didn’t know, I am not. All in all, good time, but if you ever consider doing it, make sure you’ve been drinking. Maybe one day, hopefully…

Two nights ago, I had one of those “Holy-shit-I’m-in-a-different-country-and-I- don’t-have-a-job-or-a-plan-and-I'm-not-running-out-of-money-yet-but-almost-because-England-is-so-bloody-expensive-for-a-Canadian…” and it just hit me that I should figure things out. This is what I came up with:
No, I still don’t have a job.
No, I still don’t have a flat.
No, I don’t have many friends.
No, I still don’t have a bank (and if they ask me to call again just to do the preliminary application, so help me God, I’ll burn down their head office.)
BUT,
Yes, I’ve done a fair number of touristy things in one week.
Yes, I’ve been partying a lot.
AND, all things considered yes, it's been fun, and surely, the best times are yet to come.

So that’s that. And for the record, the freak out progress has been resolved on all fronts.

For more on my non-day-to-day life, check in when I’m feeling goofier!

Ps. If you’re thinking that stopping in was a waste of good reading skills, you’re probably right. Nothing is new because nothing has changed. But thanks for stopping in.

London!

So I realize this is the first post I've made since arriving in London... currently, I am watching American TV, wondering how many people I care about are actually reading what I've put my hard effort into creating...feels like I've barely left.

So far, I've been hanging out with my cousin, who has been gracious enough to put me up until I can find a job/bank/flat, all which need each other before they can come into fruition. (you need a job and/or a bank statement to get a flat; you need a flat and/or a job to get a bank; and you need a flat and/or bank to get a job... Luckily, she knows the ropes and has figured out the outs and gotten in the ins.

I've been trying to follow a "spend-very-little" regime, but turns out when you eat nothing for a couple of days, you get really really hungry the day after, and you end up eating sub-par mcdonalds and you settle for camden town chinese food. (that is where i'm staying, camden town, a borough of north London.)
Guiness calories can only take you so far.

As far as the forecast for the day I flew in, the bbc was wrong. Weather was crappy and it rained all morning. Luckily, it got partially sunny (which means that if you look up in the exact correct part of the sky, you can ALMOST see blue sky...). Turns out the day I got in it was the worst weather of the month so far. (on a side note, the day I left Calgary, a friend of mine got fired, and the day I got into London was the day before an announcement was to come that my cousin's company was to be downsided in the next few months. Good luck? Apparently...) Of course, turns out the next few days weren't so bad "weather"-wise, but "whether" Janis's company is moved and/or downsided is still up in question. Like the play on words? I did.

Today I walked approx 10 km, from Camden (chalk farm (for those counting)) all the way to westminster bridge/bigben/london eye, and back to holburn (...long walk). Took about 3 hours, but realized how close together all parts of London can actually be! Look on a map. It looks more impressive.

I also picked up a mobile phone today. Incoming calls are free, and if I miss a call, I can call Canada for only 5p, so call me if you feel like it. If you want the number, email me.

And of course, if you're bored, just email me. kai451@yahoo.ca

The Final Countdown

So this is the final countdown, and no that is not an allusion to the 1986 hit by the band EUROPE, although maybe the name is more fitting than when I was orignally just being stupid and needing a quick title...

This is it I suppose. I'll be in the air in less than one hour. Luckily, my last minutes in Canada (at least for this round) will be spent stealing internet from an insecure network here at good old YYC, where a great deal of my flights do originate from. I also just realized that by now putting my blog entries directly onto the website, you are, in fact, reading my unadulterated, unedited, and unplanned thoughts as they go through my fingers. Alright, so that might be kind of an exageration. I realize now that in the one week countdown (entered last week) I indictated that THAT would be my last entry while in canada. Well, for those of you who are better than I am at predicting the future and being able to foresee that I would be able to get the only seat in the entirety of gate B23 with a plug in, la-de-da.

The plan goes like this: get off the plane. That is all. No plans. No holds barred...except maybe prostitution. That's gross.

So as the title of the blogpage goes, I am, in fact no longer in Canada. How long? Well, aside from being back at christmas for a family trip, unknown (although I do suppose coming back is kind of a cop-out, and really interrupts the flow of living outside of the country. but hey, what are vacactions for but to realize you have to go back afterwards? Taking a vacation from a vacation. Why, that's unheard of.)

Forecast for arrival day according to CNN.com: H: 64F, L: 54F. Rain. So I though, hmm. That's nice. Or is it? I was never really good at math. I know the formula for calculating C to F, but I'm lazy.

Forecast for arrival day according to BBC.co.uk: H: 20C, L: 11C. Light Rain Showers. Southeasterly winds, 7mph. Now, for those of you counting, 64 is actually 18C, so if it's alright, I'll go with the BBC predictions. That way it's nicer, and light rain sounds a lot more accomodating than Rain. Either way, weather's not horrible. Plus, the rest of the week looks alright: sunny periods and highs around the same temperature. That sounds like a fairly bright outlook. (Pun intended..hehe)

I could probably write more, but meh. That's all for now.

Oh, and again, for those of you who had no idea, I'm going to London, England.

The one week countdown

So this is the first test run of the new blogspot dealy thingy. Tomorrow also marks my one week departure countdown. More to come from places outside of Canada. Bye for now.