Saturday, June 17, 2006
Lost
Another one of my lost days...A day when I don't know when it's started and when it's ended. Dozed off at 2.00am in my clothes on my bed while watching TV. Woke up at 4.00am, terribly disoriented and uncomfortable. Got into the bed again after changing clothes. Don't know when .00morning came. Can't remember when I woke up again ... 9.00 ... 10.00 I think it was 10.00 because I turned on the TV again and troops parade for the Queen's 80th birthday was just starting. First thought maybe I should go down there and watch it and then quickly forgot about it and turned off. Slapped up some breakfast at 12.00 .. or 13.00 .. Was planning to go out to shops to do some shopping for my summer holidays but postponed it to tomorrow. Downloaded some comics from the Net and read them to pass time. Checked what's playing at the cinemas. Around 15.00 got sleepy again and told myself that I'll just take a short nap and catch a film at 18.00 matinee. Woke up at 18.15. Did rounds of TV and PC. At 22.00 thought maybe I should get out and eat something. Terrible headache sets in. 23.00 came back and start writing. ..........
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Frank Sinatra - If You Go Away
Lyrics (J.Brel, R.McKuen)
[Recorded February 20, 1969, Hollywood]
If you go away on this summer day,
Then you might as well take the sun away;
All the birds that flew in the summer sky,
When our love was new and our hearts were high;
When the day was young and the night was long,
And the moon stood still for the night bird's song.
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
But if you stay, I'll make you a day
Like no day has been, or will be again;
We'll sail the sun, we'll ride on the rain,
We'll talk to the trees and worship the wind.
Then if you go, I'll understand,
Leave me just enough love to fill up my hand,
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
If you go, as I know you will, you must tell the world to stop
turning
Till you return again, if you ever do, for what good is love
without loving you,
Can I tell you now, as you turn to go, I'll be dying slowly till
the next hello,
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
But if you stay, I'll make you a night
Like no night has been, or will be again.
I'll sail on your smile, I'll ride on your touch,
I'll talk to your eyes that I love so much.
But if you go, go, I won't cry,
Though the good is gone from the word goodbye,
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
If you go away, as I know you must,
There'll be nothing left in the world to trust,
Just an empty room, full of empty space,
Like the empty look I see on your face.
I'd have been the shadow of your shadow
If I thought it might have kept me by your side.
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
Miscellany
Better use this motivation to put a couple of other things into writing as well. This post will be a bit like a news bulletin.
** A couple of months ago I was watching TV and there was this program on, called Worlds Funniest Animals or something like that. In it, they told the story of a swan in America. Apparently, the poor animal has fallen in love with an inanimate swan, which is simply a pedal boat with the shape of a swan. The things is almost 5 times bigger than the animal but because it looks absolutely like a very beautiful swan, he fell in love with it all the same. They show him following the boat everywhere on the lake and the shore. But then the management decides to take the boat away to put in storage. And he first waits by it near the trailer it's put on and then when the trailer pulls away, he starts running after it, crying this awful wail like sound. According to the carers in the park, he stopped eating and cried constantly after the boat swan was taken away.
I don't know if this is a made up or a genuine story but the footage was heart-wrnching. You feel both sorry and amazed at the love of a simple swan. It's even possible to draw a similar line for human romances; especially for a certin kind, the one-sided love. You love this person and him/her starts to grow in your eyes, he/she becomes something mythical. Although, all the while, the person is completely unaware of your affections, it doesn't bother you. Just seeing them, being near them, talking to them makes you happy.
Maybe the swan knew he won't ever be able to get anything back from his most darling love.
** One other thing I saw in the press a while back reads like this: " Faulty satnav system directs drivers to a cliff drop at the village of Crackpot." This is both a hilarious and unsettling piece of news. Hilarious because I'd like to see the face of the £30,000 Lexus driver when his precious car tried to kill him. But this is also unsettling because it just shows how much control of our life we have surrendered into the hands of electronic machines without thinking about the masters of these mechanical slaves and what'd happen if these masters became hostile one day.
** Lastly, a small anecdote. I was on a train to London. There was this skinny,young guy, wearing his trousers in that annoying fashion, looking all business and hip. So this guy gets up and goes to the loo, living his bag on the seat next to his. Then this Spanish/Mexican couple comes up the aisle, looks around, sees the seat empty, takes the bag up, squeezes it into the overhead storage and promptly nestles into the seats without batting an eyelid. They are cooing to each other in Spanish when the 'hip' guy comes back. He looks around first, probably thinking he is in the wrong wagon or that he passed his seat. Anyways at last he realises that his seat has been overtaken. But what does he do? Does he politely informs the couple that they are sitting in his seat? NO. Does he pick his bag and sit onto the empty seat behind, shaking his seat? NO. HE PICKS HIS BAG UP, APOLOGIZING ALL THE TIME TO THE COUPLE AND GOES TO THE OTHER WAGON. How spineless can you be? I was completely amazed by both the shamelessness of the couple but more by the disgusting meekness of the hip guy.
End.
** A couple of months ago I was watching TV and there was this program on, called Worlds Funniest Animals or something like that. In it, they told the story of a swan in America. Apparently, the poor animal has fallen in love with an inanimate swan, which is simply a pedal boat with the shape of a swan. The things is almost 5 times bigger than the animal but because it looks absolutely like a very beautiful swan, he fell in love with it all the same. They show him following the boat everywhere on the lake and the shore. But then the management decides to take the boat away to put in storage. And he first waits by it near the trailer it's put on and then when the trailer pulls away, he starts running after it, crying this awful wail like sound. According to the carers in the park, he stopped eating and cried constantly after the boat swan was taken away.
I don't know if this is a made up or a genuine story but the footage was heart-wrnching. You feel both sorry and amazed at the love of a simple swan. It's even possible to draw a similar line for human romances; especially for a certin kind, the one-sided love. You love this person and him/her starts to grow in your eyes, he/she becomes something mythical. Although, all the while, the person is completely unaware of your affections, it doesn't bother you. Just seeing them, being near them, talking to them makes you happy.
Maybe the swan knew he won't ever be able to get anything back from his most darling love.
** One other thing I saw in the press a while back reads like this: " Faulty satnav system directs drivers to a cliff drop at the village of Crackpot." This is both a hilarious and unsettling piece of news. Hilarious because I'd like to see the face of the £30,000 Lexus driver when his precious car tried to kill him. But this is also unsettling because it just shows how much control of our life we have surrendered into the hands of electronic machines without thinking about the masters of these mechanical slaves and what'd happen if these masters became hostile one day.
** Lastly, a small anecdote. I was on a train to London. There was this skinny,young guy, wearing his trousers in that annoying fashion, looking all business and hip. So this guy gets up and goes to the loo, living his bag on the seat next to his. Then this Spanish/Mexican couple comes up the aisle, looks around, sees the seat empty, takes the bag up, squeezes it into the overhead storage and promptly nestles into the seats without batting an eyelid. They are cooing to each other in Spanish when the 'hip' guy comes back. He looks around first, probably thinking he is in the wrong wagon or that he passed his seat. Anyways at last he realises that his seat has been overtaken. But what does he do? Does he politely informs the couple that they are sitting in his seat? NO. Does he pick his bag and sit onto the empty seat behind, shaking his seat? NO. HE PICKS HIS BAG UP, APOLOGIZING ALL THE TIME TO THE COUPLE AND GOES TO THE OTHER WAGON. How spineless can you be? I was completely amazed by both the shamelessness of the couple but more by the disgusting meekness of the hip guy.
End.
Who is the real stranger?
I have tons of stuff to write about but they all look trivial in my mind's eye compared to a revelation I come to today.
As a legal alien in a foreign country, the biggest continuing problem of mine was loneliness. I have for varying reasons failed to make lasting friends or more intimate acquaintances during my time here. Of course I know people, people know me, once in a while we get together, speak about non-offending things and go our homes. I also had single-serving friends as Tyler names them - met in a dinner, cocktail, conference, party, but never saw them again. Back in the home country I had/have the best of friends; I laughed, cried, danced, drunk, ate, drunk, talked and talked with them. They are absolutely great and I'm grateful that they are my friends. Anyway, so coming from that to the current situation was like suddenly losing the ground under your feet. But today I realised that maybe I'm actually not alone in my loneliness.
Today I learnt that the husband of a couple I'm friends with has been cheating on his wife and the wife opens this secret, crying over the phone, to a person she has only been knowing for 3 years, who is now in another country. What's extraordinary about this? This couple has been living in London for 20 years. How alone and desperate you must be that you don't have a single person in the city you live in to discuss such an important issue with? I felt genuinely sorry for her - but not pity, I think showing pity is a very patronizing behaviour. I felt sorry because she is a sweet, intelligent, hard-working woman and doesn't deserve this (who does?).
Anyways then I realised that I know some other awkward examples. There are these two guys who are my time-to-time friends. They share a very nice house together. They both have been living in London for 7-8 years. Both is very bright, well-educated and nice guys. I'm not sure of all the details but I believe one of them made a bogus marriage to stay in this country and the other's marriage became a bogus one after the wife moved back to the home country after 6 months. OK both of them still have friends and they go out and have a good time but it seems there is a core in them suffering from the same lonely feeling. (Maybe I'm just trying to console myself*sigh*)
It's like you never stop being an alien. You change your skin, change your hair, your clothes, your voice but you can't change inside. You read the same books, you listen to same songs, watch the same things, laugh at the same jokes, feel bad about the same things as the people around you. But maybe these 'people around', the locals, doesn't want you to forget you're an alien by constantly referring to the country you came from in their conversations with you; sometimes subtly sometimes bluntly. Maybe they fear that if the aliens stop being alien, they'll feel alienated in their own country. So they try to keep you uneasy; even the most well meaning, most friendly of them.
Or maybe I am just a social cripple, lacking both the skills and the drive to meet people.
As an author says: "Who is the real stranger-the person who lives in a country but knows he/she belongs to another or the person who is not only a stranger in his/her own country but also who doesn't have another place to belong?"
As a legal alien in a foreign country, the biggest continuing problem of mine was loneliness. I have for varying reasons failed to make lasting friends or more intimate acquaintances during my time here. Of course I know people, people know me, once in a while we get together, speak about non-offending things and go our homes. I also had single-serving friends as Tyler names them - met in a dinner, cocktail, conference, party, but never saw them again. Back in the home country I had/have the best of friends; I laughed, cried, danced, drunk, ate, drunk, talked and talked with them. They are absolutely great and I'm grateful that they are my friends. Anyway, so coming from that to the current situation was like suddenly losing the ground under your feet. But today I realised that maybe I'm actually not alone in my loneliness.
Today I learnt that the husband of a couple I'm friends with has been cheating on his wife and the wife opens this secret, crying over the phone, to a person she has only been knowing for 3 years, who is now in another country. What's extraordinary about this? This couple has been living in London for 20 years. How alone and desperate you must be that you don't have a single person in the city you live in to discuss such an important issue with? I felt genuinely sorry for her - but not pity, I think showing pity is a very patronizing behaviour. I felt sorry because she is a sweet, intelligent, hard-working woman and doesn't deserve this (who does?).
Anyways then I realised that I know some other awkward examples. There are these two guys who are my time-to-time friends. They share a very nice house together. They both have been living in London for 7-8 years. Both is very bright, well-educated and nice guys. I'm not sure of all the details but I believe one of them made a bogus marriage to stay in this country and the other's marriage became a bogus one after the wife moved back to the home country after 6 months. OK both of them still have friends and they go out and have a good time but it seems there is a core in them suffering from the same lonely feeling. (Maybe I'm just trying to console myself*sigh*)
It's like you never stop being an alien. You change your skin, change your hair, your clothes, your voice but you can't change inside. You read the same books, you listen to same songs, watch the same things, laugh at the same jokes, feel bad about the same things as the people around you. But maybe these 'people around', the locals, doesn't want you to forget you're an alien by constantly referring to the country you came from in their conversations with you; sometimes subtly sometimes bluntly. Maybe they fear that if the aliens stop being alien, they'll feel alienated in their own country. So they try to keep you uneasy; even the most well meaning, most friendly of them.
Or maybe I am just a social cripple, lacking both the skills and the drive to meet people.
As an author says: "Who is the real stranger-the person who lives in a country but knows he/she belongs to another or the person who is not only a stranger in his/her own country but also who doesn't have another place to belong?"
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
386DX
Ahhh at last I managed to find some time. I have quite a few things line up to write about but everything in its own time. Let's go.
A couple of weeks back I went to a concert-slash-club night at the Royal Festival Hall. The headlining act was Ladytron; an electro-pop band from London, which is doing pretty good at the moment. There were other acts playing in the foyer and the concert halls all through the night. But one of them just mesmerised me. I was absolutely dumbstruck by the performance of the 'band' called 386DX. The 'band' is made up of a man and a PC; yes, a 386 Dx PC with 4MB RAM and 40MB hard-disk, running on Windows 3.1. The guy was apparently originally a Russian street musician but now he is somewhat famous with his act.
And the act is this; the guy programmed some of the most popular rock,pop and metal songs in midi and uses text-to-speech software for the lyrics. So during the concert he simply uses a projector as a screen and runs songs. Then, he very awkwardly uses a keyboard in a way resembling a mix between a guitar and keyboard to que riffs and etc. However, the star of the show is definitely the PC, 'singing' the songs in a flat, monotonus and otherworldy voice, which is completely devoid of any feeling whatsoever. Yes, it's so bad it's actually compelling.
Now, I can't really explain how I felt watching this performance. I felt sad, excited, afraid, angry, happy, amazed. Why you might ask? For the answer just download "Smells like teen spirit" cover from their website and listen at full volume. It's so weird. I had felt sad because listening to the song I remembered how Kurt Cobain sings it; with pain, anger and rebellion in his voice. But this version is just like a terrifying prophecy. Think about it; if a Russian guy with a crap PC can do this, we might be listening to synthetic singers and bands in a decade time. Singing the songs governments or corporates
think are appropriate. Mellow, nonconfrontational, meaningless songs with sickeningly catchy choruses so that we won't be able to foregt them. Am I being paranoid? Maybe. But I think it's already happenning. A couple of examples; Gorillaz, Coldplay, all the girl bands and boybands etc. And this is coming from a guy who loves Gorillaz and sings along to Yellow or Trouble whenever they come on. But I long for unconformity; I want rock stars behaving like rock stars. I want them to do the things I can't do or say the things I can't say. I don't want them to be vegetarians with healthy monogamous relationships and uninteresting lifes. I want them to wreak havoc everywhere they go. I want them to do drugs, have sex with all the groupies, drive cars into swimming pools, jump off stages, smash speakers with their guitars. Where has all this gone? Why all we are getting is fancy light shows, fireworks, giant screens, security fences, CCTV cameras, orderly proceedings and singers with castrato voices? Why are the bands from my mum's youth more rock'n'roll then the bands of today?
I was going to do a separate post but I decided to mention this news item at the end of this post as seems more appropriate. During the week, I read in Metro (the free newspaper for commuters) that a guy was arrested and walked off a plane because he was listening to Clash and Led Zeppelin on the way to the airport. Apparently, the cab he was in had a iPod socket and he decideed to play some music, he played a couple pop songs and the cabbie seemed to like his chocies. Then, first he played London Calling - by Clash, and which the cabbie didn't like - followed by the Immigrant Song by Led Zep - which, unbelievably, the cabbie didn't like either. Afterwards, the cab driver reported the guy to the police after dropping him off at the airport. But what was the reason you may ask? Both songs are include lyrics which can be interpreted as war cries or rebellion against the state so the cabbie thought, the guy is a terrorist and that he will blow up the plane. I wonder if the bands of today will have an effect like this in 30-40 years time - if anybody remembers them that is. However, I think the most stupid point in this story is that the police actually took him seriously. Oh I forgot to mention that the guy that got arrested had colored skin - small detail, I suppose.
A couple of weeks back I went to a concert-slash-club night at the Royal Festival Hall. The headlining act was Ladytron; an electro-pop band from London, which is doing pretty good at the moment. There were other acts playing in the foyer and the concert halls all through the night. But one of them just mesmerised me. I was absolutely dumbstruck by the performance of the 'band' called 386DX. The 'band' is made up of a man and a PC; yes, a 386 Dx PC with 4MB RAM and 40MB hard-disk, running on Windows 3.1. The guy was apparently originally a Russian street musician but now he is somewhat famous with his act.
And the act is this; the guy programmed some of the most popular rock,pop and metal songs in midi and uses text-to-speech software for the lyrics. So during the concert he simply uses a projector as a screen and runs songs. Then, he very awkwardly uses a keyboard in a way resembling a mix between a guitar and keyboard to que riffs and etc. However, the star of the show is definitely the PC, 'singing' the songs in a flat, monotonus and otherworldy voice, which is completely devoid of any feeling whatsoever. Yes, it's so bad it's actually compelling.
Now, I can't really explain how I felt watching this performance. I felt sad, excited, afraid, angry, happy, amazed. Why you might ask? For the answer just download "Smells like teen spirit" cover from their website and listen at full volume. It's so weird. I had felt sad because listening to the song I remembered how Kurt Cobain sings it; with pain, anger and rebellion in his voice. But this version is just like a terrifying prophecy. Think about it; if a Russian guy with a crap PC can do this, we might be listening to synthetic singers and bands in a decade time. Singing the songs governments or corporates
think are appropriate. Mellow, nonconfrontational, meaningless songs with sickeningly catchy choruses so that we won't be able to foregt them. Am I being paranoid? Maybe. But I think it's already happenning. A couple of examples; Gorillaz, Coldplay, all the girl bands and boybands etc. And this is coming from a guy who loves Gorillaz and sings along to Yellow or Trouble whenever they come on. But I long for unconformity; I want rock stars behaving like rock stars. I want them to do the things I can't do or say the things I can't say. I don't want them to be vegetarians with healthy monogamous relationships and uninteresting lifes. I want them to wreak havoc everywhere they go. I want them to do drugs, have sex with all the groupies, drive cars into swimming pools, jump off stages, smash speakers with their guitars. Where has all this gone? Why all we are getting is fancy light shows, fireworks, giant screens, security fences, CCTV cameras, orderly proceedings and singers with castrato voices? Why are the bands from my mum's youth more rock'n'roll then the bands of today?I was going to do a separate post but I decided to mention this news item at the end of this post as seems more appropriate. During the week, I read in Metro (the free newspaper for commuters) that a guy was arrested and walked off a plane because he was listening to Clash and Led Zeppelin on the way to the airport. Apparently, the cab he was in had a iPod socket and he decideed to play some music, he played a couple pop songs and the cabbie seemed to like his chocies. Then, first he played London Calling - by Clash, and which the cabbie didn't like - followed by the Immigrant Song by Led Zep - which, unbelievably, the cabbie didn't like either. Afterwards, the cab driver reported the guy to the police after dropping him off at the airport. But what was the reason you may ask? Both songs are include lyrics which can be interpreted as war cries or rebellion against the state so the cabbie thought, the guy is a terrorist and that he will blow up the plane. I wonder if the bands of today will have an effect like this in 30-40 years time - if anybody remembers them that is. However, I think the most stupid point in this story is that the police actually took him seriously. Oh I forgot to mention that the guy that got arrested had colored skin - small detail, I suppose.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
HATE MODERN
As a mid-week update and basically for the lack of anything else good to write about (and laziness), I'm posting one of my earlier articles which was going to be the first in a series headlined "HATE MODERN" but got stuck on my forgotten geocities website. The joys of self-gratification! (This posting will also uncannily resemble those cooking programs where the chef says something in the lines of "You go on toiling on that souffle for another 3 hours but, here, I have one I made earlier".) Enjoy... I order you!! -------------------------------------------------------
I was reading the Times' daily supplement T2 the other day and the feature article in it was about people (well mainly Americans) who got together for a Lord of the Rings convention. I have to make something clear first; I love the books. I find them highly entertaining, intellectual and original. But I'd never consider dressing up as Gandalf or Aragorn or any other character from the books and pretend that I'm an elf or a hobbit. It could have been understandable if the people who does dress up in this ridiculous clothes do so in order to have a laugh. But no; instead they put on curly wigs, hobbit feet and fake beards for far higher purposes than we, ordinary folk, can ever imagine. They do so because they love the environment, the animals and all the fellow human beings. One of them blurts out the reason for her looking like an extra from the movies as this: "The elves are so pure and they care about the environment, which humans have forgotten because they are so busy with themselves". Helloooooo! Wake up and smell the coffee little confused dimwit! What use to the environment a stupid 3-day convention where people practically only eat, shit, sit on their asses and talk incessantly, can somebody answer me? Do they collect some money to save a part of a forest? Do they decide to put up a protest against a company, which poisons a river? No, they just admire each others elf ears all day and try to get laid with a hobbit for the night! So elves are not so different than us humans then, are they?
Actually, as a weird twist of fate, I kinda liked the guys who dressed up as ring wraiths more. They never talk and you can't see their faces so in my opinion, they are braver than all those pre-pubescent teenagers who think they are all elven queens. Another one of them explains why they are extremely different from the Star Trek fans: "Unlike Trekkies, we help each other out. This is our own fellowship" Yeah right! I'm sure the only thing they help each other with is with your outfits and make-ups! Actually being a Trekkie is a much much better obsession; at least you get to learn about positive sciences such as physics or astronomy instead of just 'how to make the perfect elf ears out of Playdoh'! The real pathetic thing about all these type of people who become obsessed with all the wrong things about an intellectual work lies with their own psychological problems. Another elf queen explains this: "In Middle-Earth people do things for other people. They are not doing it for fame or to impress some chick or get the money". D'oh! So when you put your wigs, beards, and hoods on, you do so to help other people? Are you sure you're not doing it to impress other people? Of course, a very simple psychological weakness lies under all these behavior. When people cannot manage to, or don't want to, be content only with being themselves, they choose to hide behind masks, costumes and ideals; the easiest way out. However, the saddest thing about this kind of behavior is that the real message and the feeling that the creator of the original work wanted to convey gets lost in the process. Is there a single character in Tolkien's books who tries to be something else other than itself? For example, is there a human who decides to be an elf at some point of the story or a dwarf who wants to live as a hobbit? NO! On the contrary, the whole story is about believing in yourself, knowing what you can do and what you can't! It's not a story about a brave boy who sets out on a wonderful adventure to become the greatest hero of all time; it's about a normal boy who finds himself in a perilous journey and in the end, after terrible ordeals, deserves to be known as a great hero. Tolkien'd be more pleased with people think and act as their characters do, not look and behave like them. I don't think for one minute that on weekends he idled his hours away by putting on a pointy hat and a fake beard instead of doing something creative.
So, I hate all the pointless, commercialized Tolkien conventions, elven queens with Mr.Spock ears and people who think they are helping the Greenpeace by attending to a stupid convention or reading a book 15 times. But I hate most the people who mock a brilliant piece of work by a lack of understanding.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Sunday Bloody Sunday
I think I have a love and hate relationship with Sundays. I love them because it's weekend, it's holiday, no work, I can do anything I want to (until 00:00). However, things usually don't turn out like that for me. Sounds impossible but I manage to get this existential rage and indifference at the same time on Sundays. Sundays are the days I mostly,
- hate globalisation,
- hate that there are no dogs or cats on the streets of London,
- hate cars,
- hate restaurants which have misty eyed couples staring or talking in whispers to each other over little candles on the tables,
- hate Coldplay,
- hate all electronic and electrical appliances, most of all computers,
- can't decide what to do for dinner - eat in or out, if out where, what, when etc - and end up eating rubbish at 22:00,
- want to listen to Linkin Park at full volume while singing along at the top of my lungs,
- want to go for a run in the park and fail miserably afterwards,
- want to go to the city centre and then change my mind,
- want to wake up early but never manage to get out of the bed before 11:00,
- want to go to bed early but end up staying up till 01:00 (well it's BBC's fault to put Family Guy on 00:00) ,
- want to be living in a small country town or Paris while knowing at the back of my head that I'd feel the same,
- want to escape to the Bahamas,
- think about going back.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
A Day in Cymru
Living upto the disclaimer on the top of the page I have failed to update the blog for some time now. But I had a legitimate reason (at least in my opinion); I have been waiting for a genuine experience to write about. And it came along today in the form of a Rugby Match.
With a couple of colleagues from the office we bought tickets for the Wales v. Italy match. Our group was composed me, a Norwegian, an American and a British. We met on 8:30 at Paddington station to get onto the 8:45 train. However, there was a problem; the American was late. Although we waited till the last minute, he failed to show up and we departed without him. With a little bit of disappointment because of the mishap, we set out on our 2.5 hour long journey in our comfy table seats. At the halfway stop, a group of gentlemen that just got on come to our table and without any entrances "subtly" blamed us of sitting in their seats. Now let me explain what was written on our tickets: E 01-2-3-4 FN. We were in Coach E and we were sitting in seats 1-2-3-4. But their tickets were E-01-2-3 as well but they got B on their tickets. Now nobody knew what the letters meant. I ceertainly didn't expect a train ticket to puzzle this many people. After a bit elaboration though we realised that FN meant forward facing seats and B meant backwards. And yes, actually we were sitting in their seats, sort of. By this time, the American called and we told him to get onto the 9:45 train.
At 11:15, we arrived at Cardiff. We got out of the train station to a sea of red t-shirts, scarfs, socks etc. Everybody was there for the match and most of them was Welsh. I say most of them because there were a couple of Italians as well; some of them wearing blue wigs (blue is their team colour). We decided to explore the city for an hour and then come back to the station to pick up the American. Now as a Londoner two things especially caught my eye in Cardiff at first; the signs in
Welsh and the non-existence of any kind of minorities. It was as if there was not a single black or Chinese or some other minority family living in Cardiff. On the streets, everybody was white and British (or Welsh). This didn't disturb me as such but I felt a little more alienated, maybe. Walking through the city, we realised something else; the city was almost shutdown for the match.
The roads were closed the traffic and everybody was crowded into the pubs or were drinking beers outside. Actually all of the city was like an open-air pub. I've never seen that many men (and quite a number of women) with beer bellies in my life. One other quirky thing was the shop names; I got the impression that Welsh doesn't like to elaborate too much on things. For example, the name of one chip shop wa "Chippy" or one stationery store was called "The Pen and the Paper" or the sandwich and fruit juice store called "Fresh". Very refreshing after new-age, made up nonsense shop names you suffer in London, like wagamama, pret a manger or Le Cafe du Maison (a local one).
After a short stroll, we arrived at Cardiff castle but we just looked from the outside and went onto have our first pint of the day. Now, to further demonstrate that Wales is a strange territory I will tell you the name of the local brew: BRAINS. It's a creamy Guiness-like beer and you order it like this: "3 Brains please." I made up this joke after learning the name; drink 5 pints of Brains to lose your mind. Surreal. And, no, it's not the result of a 200 year old typo.
Anyway at 11:20, we met up with the American. By this time, the doors to the stadium was open so we decided to go and get our seats. The Stadium of Light is a beatiful stadium. It's new and very modern. It's also an engineering achievement
as it's possible to close the roof of the stadium against adverse weather. As we get into the stadium, I didn't expect much from out seating. But as we got closer to the place on the tickets, I got curious. And when we at last found our seats, I was gobsmacked. We were practically 10m away from the pitch. Everything was going to unfold in front of eyes when the match started. I was delighted. And hungry. So we downed another pint with hotdogs and waited for the kickoff at 13:30. However, first we had to watch the procession of the National Guard with a very spurned up and important looking GOAT on tow. WE guessed it was like a mascot. The NG was followed by a choir which sang hymns or something like that. Not much people was paying attention to them, at least we weren't, because behind them a group of cheerleaders was following. They did a short dance routine in front of all 4 sides but I though we got the worst routine; not much hair throwing and booty shaking. By this time, beer had went through my digestion system and arrived at the waste disposal unit so I rushed to the toilets. And suffered a small shock the moment I entered it. THE PEOPLE WERE PEEING INTO THE SINKS. How gross is that! My mind simply rejected to accpet the scene for a split second. But, unfortunately, reality always win. Anyways, putting that image behind my head I entered a cubicle, got rid of the beer in me and ran out looking at the floor. When I got back my seat, I dutifully advised my companions not to wash their hands at the toilet and explained why. For some reason, they weren't too fazed.
So, at last, the teams got on to the pitch, anthems sang and the ball got kicked. Now let me remind you that this was my first Rugby match and I don't know much about rugy, either. Which, leads to British guy getting questioned constantly; "why did the referee stop the match just now?", "was that a penalty?" (him:"yes") "Why?". I also asked the American's opinion, whether it was similar to American football or not. He didn't seem to be too much impressed with it but was enjoying himself nonetheless. His understanding was definitely better than mine.
What is on my opinion on Rugby after watching a full match? Well it's, of course, a rough sport. Some of the 'tackles' endured by the players was awful. You think no sane person would willingly take that kind of treatment. But when one of the sides starts a charge for the opposite side's goal area, it gets very intense. Also, the excitement of 74,000 people surrounds you and affects you. These were the goods.
Alongside the occasional excitement, most of the match was a bit slow. There were a lot of stops to form 'scrums', to treat players' sprained ankle or hurt toe or something. Play just stopped every now and then; which makes the game a bit pedestrian. Another thing was the spectators. At a football match, the spectators are usually alive with chanting. The stadiums tremble with songs and cheers. Enormous flags ripple above the crowds. Plus mexican waves. What was it like during the Rugby match? It was quiet. The majority of the crowd just sit in their seats and watched the game like they're watching a beauty paegant or something. I didn't feel a sort camarederie or overflow of emotions. There was the occasional mass cheers of "WA-LES" but otherwise it was very sterile. One last thing is the end of the match was a disappointment; and not because it was a draw. There is no extra time in Rugby when the time is up, the game ends. And it just ends. The second the clock ticked the players dropped the ball and quickly left the pitch. That's it. No saluting the crowd, no victory runs, nothing. I got the feeling they were just glad that it has ended and they can go to the pub and have a pint of Brains.
After drinking a couple of pints of our own, we got on the train for London, which was packed and we didn't have reserved seats so we helped ourselves to some empty First Class seats, which luckily nobody claimed afterwards.
With a couple of colleagues from the office we bought tickets for the Wales v. Italy match. Our group was composed me, a Norwegian, an American and a British. We met on 8:30 at Paddington station to get onto the 8:45 train. However, there was a problem; the American was late. Although we waited till the last minute, he failed to show up and we departed without him. With a little bit of disappointment because of the mishap, we set out on our 2.5 hour long journey in our comfy table seats. At the halfway stop, a group of gentlemen that just got on come to our table and without any entrances "subtly" blamed us of sitting in their seats. Now let me explain what was written on our tickets: E 01-2-3-4 FN. We were in Coach E and we were sitting in seats 1-2-3-4. But their tickets were E-01-2-3 as well but they got B on their tickets. Now nobody knew what the letters meant. I ceertainly didn't expect a train ticket to puzzle this many people. After a bit elaboration though we realised that FN meant forward facing seats and B meant backwards. And yes, actually we were sitting in their seats, sort of. By this time, the American called and we told him to get onto the 9:45 train.
At 11:15, we arrived at Cardiff. We got out of the train station to a sea of red t-shirts, scarfs, socks etc. Everybody was there for the match and most of them was Welsh. I say most of them because there were a couple of Italians as well; some of them wearing blue wigs (blue is their team colour). We decided to explore the city for an hour and then come back to the station to pick up the American. Now as a Londoner two things especially caught my eye in Cardiff at first; the signs in
Welsh and the non-existence of any kind of minorities. It was as if there was not a single black or Chinese or some other minority family living in Cardiff. On the streets, everybody was white and British (or Welsh). This didn't disturb me as such but I felt a little more alienated, maybe. Walking through the city, we realised something else; the city was almost shutdown for the match.
The roads were closed the traffic and everybody was crowded into the pubs or were drinking beers outside. Actually all of the city was like an open-air pub. I've never seen that many men (and quite a number of women) with beer bellies in my life. One other quirky thing was the shop names; I got the impression that Welsh doesn't like to elaborate too much on things. For example, the name of one chip shop wa "Chippy" or one stationery store was called "The Pen and the Paper" or the sandwich and fruit juice store called "Fresh". Very refreshing after new-age, made up nonsense shop names you suffer in London, like wagamama, pret a manger or Le Cafe du Maison (a local one).
After a short stroll, we arrived at Cardiff castle but we just looked from the outside and went onto have our first pint of the day. Now, to further demonstrate that Wales is a strange territory I will tell you the name of the local brew: BRAINS. It's a creamy Guiness-like beer and you order it like this: "3 Brains please." I made up this joke after learning the name; drink 5 pints of Brains to lose your mind. Surreal. And, no, it's not the result of a 200 year old typo.
Anyway at 11:20, we met up with the American. By this time, the doors to the stadium was open so we decided to go and get our seats. The Stadium of Light is a beatiful stadium. It's new and very modern. It's also an engineering achievement
as it's possible to close the roof of the stadium against adverse weather. As we get into the stadium, I didn't expect much from out seating. But as we got closer to the place on the tickets, I got curious. And when we at last found our seats, I was gobsmacked. We were practically 10m away from the pitch. Everything was going to unfold in front of eyes when the match started. I was delighted. And hungry. So we downed another pint with hotdogs and waited for the kickoff at 13:30. However, first we had to watch the procession of the National Guard with a very spurned up and important looking GOAT on tow. WE guessed it was like a mascot. The NG was followed by a choir which sang hymns or something like that. Not much people was paying attention to them, at least we weren't, because behind them a group of cheerleaders was following. They did a short dance routine in front of all 4 sides but I though we got the worst routine; not much hair throwing and booty shaking. By this time, beer had went through my digestion system and arrived at the waste disposal unit so I rushed to the toilets. And suffered a small shock the moment I entered it. THE PEOPLE WERE PEEING INTO THE SINKS. How gross is that! My mind simply rejected to accpet the scene for a split second. But, unfortunately, reality always win. Anyways, putting that image behind my head I entered a cubicle, got rid of the beer in me and ran out looking at the floor. When I got back my seat, I dutifully advised my companions not to wash their hands at the toilet and explained why. For some reason, they weren't too fazed.So, at last, the teams got on to the pitch, anthems sang and the ball got kicked. Now let me remind you that this was my first Rugby match and I don't know much about rugy, either. Which, leads to British guy getting questioned constantly; "why did the referee stop the match just now?", "was that a penalty?" (him:"yes") "Why?". I also asked the American's opinion, whether it was similar to American football or not. He didn't seem to be too much impressed with it but was enjoying himself nonetheless. His understanding was definitely better than mine.
What is on my opinion on Rugby after watching a full match? Well it's, of course, a rough sport. Some of the 'tackles' endured by the players was awful. You think no sane person would willingly take that kind of treatment. But when one of the sides starts a charge for the opposite side's goal area, it gets very intense. Also, the excitement of 74,000 people surrounds you and affects you. These were the goods.
Alongside the occasional excitement, most of the match was a bit slow. There were a lot of stops to form 'scrums', to treat players' sprained ankle or hurt toe or something. Play just stopped every now and then; which makes the game a bit pedestrian. Another thing was the spectators. At a football match, the spectators are usually alive with chanting. The stadiums tremble with songs and cheers. Enormous flags ripple above the crowds. Plus mexican waves. What was it like during the Rugby match? It was quiet. The majority of the crowd just sit in their seats and watched the game like they're watching a beauty paegant or something. I didn't feel a sort camarederie or overflow of emotions. There was the occasional mass cheers of "WA-LES" but otherwise it was very sterile. One last thing is the end of the match was a disappointment; and not because it was a draw. There is no extra time in Rugby when the time is up, the game ends. And it just ends. The second the clock ticked the players dropped the ball and quickly left the pitch. That's it. No saluting the crowd, no victory runs, nothing. I got the feeling they were just glad that it has ended and they can go to the pub and have a pint of Brains.
After drinking a couple of pints of our own, we got on the train for London, which was packed and we didn't have reserved seats so we helped ourselves to some empty First Class seats, which luckily nobody claimed afterwards.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Story of a £5 Well Spent
Today (Blogger's Note: This is the Saturday entry) got rather interesting as I was walking idly down the Oxford Street. In front of one of the shops, there was a small crowd. The shop got posters on its windows claiming to sell ipods for £5.00, digital cameras for £10.00, PS2s for £20.00. The faded mark of the "Sockshop" could still be read, which meant that the shop was recently evacuated. Of course, all my bullshit bells rang but I stayed on. Soon, a man with long curly hair opened the door and started to let the people in. Inside, the empty shelves from the previous business was still present. At the far end of the shop was a desk with a man behind it. So that was the reason for the unbelievably low prices; they were only starting prices; they were going to auction the goods. How wrong was I!
The man put on a microphone set and started the show by a monologue. He was talking fast and explaining how we were so lucky an that this wasn't a joke. But after 5 minutes another guy, middle-eastern looking, appeared behind him and promptly replaced him. Now, the moment I saw this guy any doubts in my head as to whether this is a scam or not, completely disappeared. Think about all the villains in comic books like Tintin or Lucky Luke and you'll get the picture. The guy even had the crook eyes; you know, one eye slanting and smaller than the other giving a mischievous gaze.
The new guy, Michael, was a master at controlling a crowd. Between his speech, he asked people where they are from and made small jokes, creating an informal and friendly air. He was supported by a sidekick; Sebastian, who apparently was assigned to be the comedic element as Michael peppered his speech with jokes about him being gay. By now there was 40-50 people in the small shop, most of them tourists. Soon, also, the purpose of the wooden stick in Michael's hand was understood. Think about a school teacher with a ruler in his/her hand, which she/he slams on to his/her desk from time to time to cease the talking between the students. It proved effective here as well. It was as if he was hypnotizing the crowd and didn't want them to be distracted.
He started by handing out some cassettes for pennie and walkmans for £1, with free batteries. Moved onto Gameboys for £5. The boxes of the goods looked very worn and tatty, which he accepted but guaranteed that the devices were in excellent condition. He even handed out a bundle of electronics including an ipod Shuffle to a guy for £5. Madness, right! After half an hour, the game changed. He asked for £5 from every person in the shop who were willing to walk away with another bundle of electronics. So Sebastian and another aide started collecting the £5s and giving out tickets. Michael also introduced a level of gamble into the game; he asked from the people to raise their hands if they'd pay £30 for anything on his mind and then selected a guy. However, he didn't hand out the goods for £30 but for £5, claiming to be charitable etc. This practice was clearly aimed at building a trust for himself and to encourage people to part with more money. Soon, the tickets got replaced by "electronic organizers" - a little gift - and anybody without them was excluded from the sale and lead out of the shop. In other words, the crowd was canvassed.
He again built up a very impressive 10-item bundle in front of him; including a sony camcorder, an ipod and a Sony vaio laptop as a "treat". He asked if anybody was willing to pay £150 for this bundle. Hands raised up; some with money, some with cards in them. Again a person selected by him, promptly handed the money in neat £20 notes. THAT'S £150 IN CASH! No sane person goes around for a bit of Saturday shopping with that kind of money with him. By now, the whole thing was begininning to turn sour for me. So I headed out.
I only figured out the full genius of the whole thing at the end of the day. My theory is like this; put 5 of your people in the crowd, when you are handing out an expensive item such as an ipod select them and make them the "lucky" person. And when you're giving out rubbish items such as "proton" CD players, select a genuine person. He was only dangling a PSP or an iPod as a carrot in front of the crowd to goad them on. When you think about it, after he collected the £5 to stay in the game from 40 people, he had made £200. And I think they did 3-4 sessions during the day, which makes at least £600. And I don't know if any other money collection was done or not. Neat, eh?
So why do I think that £5 was well spent? For that money, I received a masterclass lecture in scheming and crowd-control. I got the chance to see how easy it is to manipulate poeple. And don't forget the "organizer". So, all in all, very good value in my opinion.
Spotted: - Young guy in Soho, dancing brilliantly on one of those electronic dancing games in an arcade. But there was a difference; instead of feet, he was using his hands to do the moves and he was awesome. Brought a smile to my face!
Played: - GOLDEN AXE! Couldn't believe it! I used to play it in coin-arcades. This time it was on a PS2 in a GAME store on Oxford Street. Ahh, the old games are the best in my opinion.
Read standing: 1st issue of manga ".hack sign" (slightly amusing, in my opinion) and quickly Authority:Revolution (Warren Ellis, we miss you).
The man put on a microphone set and started the show by a monologue. He was talking fast and explaining how we were so lucky an that this wasn't a joke. But after 5 minutes another guy, middle-eastern looking, appeared behind him and promptly replaced him. Now, the moment I saw this guy any doubts in my head as to whether this is a scam or not, completely disappeared. Think about all the villains in comic books like Tintin or Lucky Luke and you'll get the picture. The guy even had the crook eyes; you know, one eye slanting and smaller than the other giving a mischievous gaze.The new guy, Michael, was a master at controlling a crowd. Between his speech, he asked people where they are from and made small jokes, creating an informal and friendly air. He was supported by a sidekick; Sebastian, who apparently was assigned to be the comedic element as Michael peppered his speech with jokes about him being gay. By now there was 40-50 people in the small shop, most of them tourists. Soon, also, the purpose of the wooden stick in Michael's hand was understood. Think about a school teacher with a ruler in his/her hand, which she/he slams on to his/her desk from time to time to cease the talking between the students. It proved effective here as well. It was as if he was hypnotizing the crowd and didn't want them to be distracted.
He started by handing out some cassettes for pennie and walkmans for £1, with free batteries. Moved onto Gameboys for £5. The boxes of the goods looked very worn and tatty, which he accepted but guaranteed that the devices were in excellent condition. He even handed out a bundle of electronics including an ipod Shuffle to a guy for £5. Madness, right! After half an hour, the game changed. He asked for £5 from every person in the shop who were willing to walk away with another bundle of electronics. So Sebastian and another aide started collecting the £5s and giving out tickets. Michael also introduced a level of gamble into the game; he asked from the people to raise their hands if they'd pay £30 for anything on his mind and then selected a guy. However, he didn't hand out the goods for £30 but for £5, claiming to be charitable etc. This practice was clearly aimed at building a trust for himself and to encourage people to part with more money. Soon, the tickets got replaced by "electronic organizers" - a little gift - and anybody without them was excluded from the sale and lead out of the shop. In other words, the crowd was canvassed.
He again built up a very impressive 10-item bundle in front of him; including a sony camcorder, an ipod and a Sony vaio laptop as a "treat". He asked if anybody was willing to pay £150 for this bundle. Hands raised up; some with money, some with cards in them. Again a person selected by him, promptly handed the money in neat £20 notes. THAT'S £150 IN CASH! No sane person goes around for a bit of Saturday shopping with that kind of money with him. By now, the whole thing was begininning to turn sour for me. So I headed out.
I only figured out the full genius of the whole thing at the end of the day. My theory is like this; put 5 of your people in the crowd, when you are handing out an expensive item such as an ipod select them and make them the "lucky" person. And when you're giving out rubbish items such as "proton" CD players, select a genuine person. He was only dangling a PSP or an iPod as a carrot in front of the crowd to goad them on. When you think about it, after he collected the £5 to stay in the game from 40 people, he had made £200. And I think they did 3-4 sessions during the day, which makes at least £600. And I don't know if any other money collection was done or not. Neat, eh?
So why do I think that £5 was well spent? For that money, I received a masterclass lecture in scheming and crowd-control. I got the chance to see how easy it is to manipulate poeple. And don't forget the "organizer". So, all in all, very good value in my opinion.
Spotted: - Young guy in Soho, dancing brilliantly on one of those electronic dancing games in an arcade. But there was a difference; instead of feet, he was using his hands to do the moves and he was awesome. Brought a smile to my face!
Played: - GOLDEN AXE! Couldn't believe it! I used to play it in coin-arcades. This time it was on a PS2 in a GAME store on Oxford Street. Ahh, the old games are the best in my opinion.
Read standing: 1st issue of manga ".hack sign" (slightly amusing, in my opinion) and quickly Authority:Revolution (Warren Ellis, we miss you).
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Wine & Sympathy
Owwww...got a very annoying headache....there was a cocktail at the workplace all day thrown for our clients and spent the most of the day with a wine glass in my hand, eating cold japanese cocktail food and having small talks with mildly interesting people. Thanks to the unusually pushy waiters must have drunk a bottle of wine without realising. Still worse they were pushy towards guests as well; poor guys were constantly trying to shoo them off. However, in the end, it was a satisfactory function for me as I met most of the people I was expecting to see and some I wasn't.
Don't want to see any sushi for another 3 months.
Don't want to see any sushi for another 3 months.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Bloody Valentine's Day
Ahhh great, Valentine's Day!!! The day of the cheese. The epitome of schmuck. The day in which you get to see couples crowding every 2nd rate restaurant and hotel in the land just because Clinton's told them to do so. And the next day it's back to chinese take aways and "early night"s. I can hear some saying "oh but it's an opportunity to cherish the beauty and warmth of love, to feel unashamedly in love, and to show it out to everybody." bla bla bla. No people all you cherish is the tills of Messrs DeBeers, Harvey Nichols and Lord Selfridge. How many of you wanted to give a beautiful ring to your beloved on 28th of January and then thought "Well Valentine's is coming, I better wait so that I won't have to buy another thing on the day." Himm? Tell me. If you did, yours is not true love. Plain and simple.
OK now that we took care of the cynical commenting I can explain how I really felt at the end of the day. Well, a bit sad, which wasn't surprising. I said to myself, you feel sad because nobody called and celebrated your Valentine's Day (OK to their credit Edi&Budu called, but, although sweet, it just doesn't count) I thought about my other friends who are single at the moment and which, didn't receive a call as well. So I decided to call them and celebrate their Valentine's Day; this way we 'd be able to share our sadness and feel much better. And it worked. They sounded really happy at the other end of the phone. And I was happy, too because I had made another person happy, which was the whole point of today, wasn't it?
(NB: I only called the girls though. The boys would probably shut the phone on my face ^_^)
Spotted today:
- Shoplifter grabbing a handful of Brit Awards Nominees CDs from the HMV in Piccadilly and walking pass the sensors only by holding them above his head. Helpfully, but unwittingly, held the door to the guy as well.
- Read standing: Issues 3-4 of manga Demon Diary (feature article being planned)
Monday, February 13, 2006
I'm back
Yes, at last, I managed to find a plausible reason in my head to update this blog. It took me 1.5 years but never mind. And the reason is this; these entries will act like my memoirs (hence, the title change) of my time in London. It's a shame that it's been almost 4 years now already but don't fret, God willing, I'll have another 4 (no, I'm not a born-again Christian now).
Ok so let's have a little recap.
2003
- at last finished the post-grad degree, got rid of the thesis, got hold of the diploma. Yayy!
- got run over by an Indian delivery boy's moped, opened eyes in the hospital in a surprisingly calm manner without any clothes and recollection of the accident, got numerous stitches in the head and a black eye, depressing but amusing (go figure!) graduation ceremony photos.
2004
- July, found a job, happy but a bit dazed, there is a Russian, a Cypriot and 4 Ts in the office (yeah sounds a bit like a joke)
- August, started the rite of passage called "the work permit" ... Shiver! Parents were, which will be referred as Edi(dad) and Budu(mum) in future posts, moving house in a completely tedious way; in luggages. My father looks like someone between a very busy serial killer and a homeless person, dragging luggages continously between places all day.
- September, still struggling with the WP, also the workload had become ridiculous. Moving was a revelation for Budu; she realised how many things a person can stuff into closets and cupboards. Edi went back to home country; leaving us with the rest of the moving. Oh joy!
- October, yep, still; WP!!! Making exquisite plans of highly original torture methods about the lawyer, who in a very perplexing way treats her clients like daycare children in Cambodia. Made Budu to agree to a cunning plan involving moving stuff, which I cannot retell here because of confidentiality but it involves a Yellow Box . Nihahahaha! v_v
- November, WPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! Arrrghhh...
- December, at last got my spanking new WP and come back to London after a very relaxing 1 month at home country. Did I feel relieved!!
- New Year, Budu went out with her friends, I went out with mine (Duncan & Peri), watched the fireworks at London Eye, for the first time. *Sigh*
2005
- Budu left me as well and went back to home country in February. Duncan and Peri left as well. Suddenly felt really lonely. Ahh well.
- March, went to Munich, beautiful city, loved it, cycled all day around it, but it didn't feel too good seeing places by myself so made a note to self to arrange a tour next time.
- May, OMG, how stupid I can be! Practically got myself fired from the job over a completely idiotic and frankly pointless error of judgment. Chaos ensued. Luckily, had previously arranged a 10 day visit to home country.
- Best pal (BP) got married, beautiful ceremony and a better party in the evening, never felt that happy for a long time.
- Lovely day at the lake, picnic in the sunshine, beers in the boat on the lake, superb! *Sigh*
- June, Back to London, pouring over job ads on the internet, filling forms, sending CVs. Also MB asked me if I'd like to work in his shop till I find a job. Promptly accepted.
- July, FUCK ME! A company came back to me out of nowhere, made the interview, now very nervous, waiting, London bombings happen on the trial run at the company, 2 weeks goes by, finally they hire me!!! Couldn't believe it being a loyal pessimistic, was again in a daze.
- August, welcome to the beautiful world of WORK PERMITS! AGAIN! SAME LAWYER! ARRRRGGGGHHH! Got it at the end of month. Phew!!
- September, learning the new job etc., the colleagues are a funny bunch, very laid back, very different from the previous job.
- October, 3 dates with a girl, G, lost interest after the third (sorry it sounds cruel way but I was a gentleman through it all) broke up in a tad awkward way involving her prophetic girlfriend and a 500m walk side by side after the break up. Went and watched the Nightwatch afterwards.
- December, new year at the home country with friends and family. Nice food, nice weather, better company. Very satisfied and happy. In the mean time, Edi and Budu again moved to their new house this time, in which they almost need walkie-talkies to speak to each other. ^_^
And 2006..
Spotted today:
- a boy wearing a day-glo green trousers and bright red jacket, crossing the road at Piccadilly.
- a man wearing a top hat, shaggy suit, gloves and a red rose, browsing the Jazz section at Virgin.
- CDs: sparks, vitaminrecords.com - some awesome tributes, Serge Gainsbourg
- Read standing: first 2 issues of manga Priest.
- Read sitting: still Belle du Jour (main influence for blogging again)
Ok so let's have a little recap.
2003
- at last finished the post-grad degree, got rid of the thesis, got hold of the diploma. Yayy!
- got run over by an Indian delivery boy's moped, opened eyes in the hospital in a surprisingly calm manner without any clothes and recollection of the accident, got numerous stitches in the head and a black eye, depressing but amusing (go figure!) graduation ceremony photos.
2004
- July, found a job, happy but a bit dazed, there is a Russian, a Cypriot and 4 Ts in the office (yeah sounds a bit like a joke)
- August, started the rite of passage called "the work permit" ... Shiver! Parents were, which will be referred as Edi(dad) and Budu(mum) in future posts, moving house in a completely tedious way; in luggages. My father looks like someone between a very busy serial killer and a homeless person, dragging luggages continously between places all day.
- September, still struggling with the WP, also the workload had become ridiculous. Moving was a revelation for Budu; she realised how many things a person can stuff into closets and cupboards. Edi went back to home country; leaving us with the rest of the moving. Oh joy!
- October, yep, still; WP!!! Making exquisite plans of highly original torture methods about the lawyer, who in a very perplexing way treats her clients like daycare children in Cambodia. Made Budu to agree to a cunning plan involving moving stuff, which I cannot retell here because of confidentiality but it involves a Yellow Box . Nihahahaha! v_v
- November, WPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! Arrrghhh...
- December, at last got my spanking new WP and come back to London after a very relaxing 1 month at home country. Did I feel relieved!!
- New Year, Budu went out with her friends, I went out with mine (Duncan & Peri), watched the fireworks at London Eye, for the first time. *Sigh*
2005
- Budu left me as well and went back to home country in February. Duncan and Peri left as well. Suddenly felt really lonely. Ahh well.
- March, went to Munich, beautiful city, loved it, cycled all day around it, but it didn't feel too good seeing places by myself so made a note to self to arrange a tour next time.
- May, OMG, how stupid I can be! Practically got myself fired from the job over a completely idiotic and frankly pointless error of judgment. Chaos ensued. Luckily, had previously arranged a 10 day visit to home country.
- Best pal (BP) got married, beautiful ceremony and a better party in the evening, never felt that happy for a long time.
- Lovely day at the lake, picnic in the sunshine, beers in the boat on the lake, superb! *Sigh*
- June, Back to London, pouring over job ads on the internet, filling forms, sending CVs. Also MB asked me if I'd like to work in his shop till I find a job. Promptly accepted.
- July, FUCK ME! A company came back to me out of nowhere, made the interview, now very nervous, waiting, London bombings happen on the trial run at the company, 2 weeks goes by, finally they hire me!!! Couldn't believe it being a loyal pessimistic, was again in a daze.
- August, welcome to the beautiful world of WORK PERMITS! AGAIN! SAME LAWYER! ARRRRGGGGHHH! Got it at the end of month. Phew!!
- September, learning the new job etc., the colleagues are a funny bunch, very laid back, very different from the previous job.
- October, 3 dates with a girl, G, lost interest after the third (sorry it sounds cruel way but I was a gentleman through it all) broke up in a tad awkward way involving her prophetic girlfriend and a 500m walk side by side after the break up. Went and watched the Nightwatch afterwards.
- December, new year at the home country with friends and family. Nice food, nice weather, better company. Very satisfied and happy. In the mean time, Edi and Budu again moved to their new house this time, in which they almost need walkie-talkies to speak to each other. ^_^
And 2006..
Spotted today:
- a boy wearing a day-glo green trousers and bright red jacket, crossing the road at Piccadilly.
- a man wearing a top hat, shaggy suit, gloves and a red rose, browsing the Jazz section at Virgin.
- CDs: sparks, vitaminrecords.com - some awesome tributes, Serge Gainsbourg
- Read standing: first 2 issues of manga Priest.
- Read sitting: still Belle du Jour (main influence for blogging again)
Sunday, July 04, 2004
2
Oh my, second post. Naaah this is getting boring. I have to find another opening line. I'll think of something for the third one.
Well nothing really to write about for today. The London weather didn't really inspire me to go outdoors.(For the record, it is cloudy,drizzly,windy and rainy) So I made the best out of staying indoors and watched the Wimbledon Mens Singles' final. I've always enjoyed watching tennis. I just deleted an entire paragraph because it started to sound like a sports column in a tabloid. It was very impersonal. So my personal thoughts on the match; it was fun. Thats it. There was nothing better to watch on the other channels anyway. So there you have it.
And what am I doing now? Apart from writing a blog entry, I'm chatting with two friends and trying to watch the Euro 2004 final.
I'm going to end this entry because I totally lost the will to write anything.
Well nothing really to write about for today. The London weather didn't really inspire me to go outdoors.(For the record, it is cloudy,drizzly,windy and rainy) So I made the best out of staying indoors and watched the Wimbledon Mens Singles' final. I've always enjoyed watching tennis. I just deleted an entire paragraph because it started to sound like a sports column in a tabloid. It was very impersonal. So my personal thoughts on the match; it was fun. Thats it. There was nothing better to watch on the other channels anyway. So there you have it.
And what am I doing now? Apart from writing a blog entry, I'm chatting with two friends and trying to watch the Euro 2004 final.
I'm going to end this entry because I totally lost the will to write anything.
Saturday, July 03, 2004
1
Oh my first post, am I excited. Actually no I'm not. Because this exactly feels like talking to myself; just slower, as I have to type. Well at least it's less embarrasing and I can do this in front of other people without branded a lost case. Another plus side is as I'm writing this post on a laptop I look like I'm writing an important article or an intimate mail to one of my friends or some other creative and useful thing. Whereas all I'm doing is air.
Well this never stopped me in the past, though. So time to cut the self-critizing a little. I don't want two people who will see this post to take me as some kind of an amateur, now do I?
One question on my mind as I'm writing this message is, funnily enough, why is this called blogging? OK I figured that it's probably related to logging, which is also a stupid case in itself. What has cut tree trunks to do with entering data I'll never know. (Not that I'm dying of curiosity anyway)
I suddenly got a horrible thought in my head. What if I write all these lines and when I press Publish that lovely IE page comes up. You know the one that says something like The webpage you are looking for is not available. I've always hated that. I'm sure you are familiar with it too. You write this really long and emotional e-mail to your friend or mom and when you hit Send BLAM! Nothing! And suddenly all the air in your lungs disappears and you know how it would feel to breathe in space. You try half heartedly to write the mail again but after two lines you just give up and go to bed at 11 in the morning.
So in order to protect this message from that fate:Ctrl+A and Ctrl+C. OK now I'm relieved. Whew! That made me really nervous.
That previes button on top is very handy by the way. I found 3 spelling mistakes. I don't want to presnt myelf as an ilterate 12 year old to the outside word.
Now that's enough for the first post I guess. See you later in the second post, coming in to all theatres near you in 2005.
Well this never stopped me in the past, though. So time to cut the self-critizing a little. I don't want two people who will see this post to take me as some kind of an amateur, now do I?
One question on my mind as I'm writing this message is, funnily enough, why is this called blogging? OK I figured that it's probably related to logging, which is also a stupid case in itself. What has cut tree trunks to do with entering data I'll never know. (Not that I'm dying of curiosity anyway)
I suddenly got a horrible thought in my head. What if I write all these lines and when I press Publish that lovely IE page comes up. You know the one that says something like The webpage you are looking for is not available. I've always hated that. I'm sure you are familiar with it too. You write this really long and emotional e-mail to your friend or mom and when you hit Send BLAM! Nothing! And suddenly all the air in your lungs disappears and you know how it would feel to breathe in space. You try half heartedly to write the mail again but after two lines you just give up and go to bed at 11 in the morning.
So in order to protect this message from that fate:Ctrl+A and Ctrl+C. OK now I'm relieved. Whew! That made me really nervous.
That previes button on top is very handy by the way. I found 3 spelling mistakes. I don't want to presnt myelf as an ilterate 12 year old to the outside word.
Now that's enough for the first post I guess. See you later in the second post, coming in to all theatres near you in 2005.
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