saturday was quiet, for the most part. we were booked in for drinks and nibbles at Lisa's place and as happened the last time we headed down to Brockley, it was raining and the place was full of pretty gay boys. they're a fairly charming lot, and their parties seem to be high on the "fabulous". we sat, we chatted, we drank, we went home. a mixture of beer and vodka sat with me none-so-well and i spent most of the trip staring out the window or into the puddles in the gutter in with a bit of a cloud over my head... that is, apart from the clouds that were happily raining down on me. an email received when i got home brightened my spirits somewhat, but my mood rebounded off the vodka-haze and i didn't reply until this morning when the smile came back.
on tuesday i have another job interview, finally. i'm not allowing myself to get too excited about it all, but even getting an interview at the moment is a great sign. hopefully there'll be word from a couple of other roles i've been put down for tomorrow, so maybe the week won't be a total wash-out.
next weekend i think i'll try to organise something with Adnan's Facebook group. he's away at the moment, and i know that Jess is away, but Laura and Jeff should be around so we'll see if we can get something going. as the days march closer to Xmas the need to socialise grows. the holidays are just days like any other, but i still feel the need to have something resembling a party and people around.
amusingly, it makes me cast my mind back to one of my favourite xmas-days. Matt and i had the RPM house to ourselves. amanda had left me a couple of months prior and had moved out, Benzio was up in Berry with his folks and April (i think she was still in the house at this point) was in Perth, so there was no one else around. we had a quiet xmas-day planned with some movies and video games, right up until we both got a stomach-bug which left is dehydrated and unable to take food or drink, with the summer heat and the squirts ensuring that we were dehydrated and wrecked for days. we were both sick as sick, lying around and feeling sorry for ourselves, vaguely wondering whether we'd survive but... well, we had each other there to share our torment. i remember that we managed to get ourselves on our feet and in the car so that we could head to the O'Connor Pharmacy and get some rehydration salts. getting there and back took just about all the strength we had left and the drink the salts made tasted terrible but we got them down, one sip at a time. still, through depression and dehydration we got through the days that followed and despite it all, whenever i think back on that week i smile a little. maybe just because it's one xmas i'll never forget, maybe because we kept each other going and got each other through.
xmas just seems to be a time to spend with people. this year i'm spending it with a bunch of Lisa's vegan and animal-lib friends which should be entertaining. new year's eve, on the other hand, that's something i still need to stitch up. i should get onto that... it's ok - i've got some ideas...
Monday, December 15, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
serendipity (take the opportunity)....
it was 6:18PM and i was sitting in The Roundhouse, a classic-style pub in Covent Garden with Lou and her aunt and uncle, when my phone beeped with a message. "I have tickets for Apocalyptica tonight near Tottenham Court Road at 8," it said, "I've messaged a couple of people so get back to me quick if you want to come."
Fuck yeah! i replied, i love those guys! i'm in Covent Garden already so i can get there easy. i don't have a lot of cash but i can square you later. and... um... who is this?
the suspense wasn't killing me as such, but i WAS curious. ten minutes went by, fifteen, twenty, no reply. i didn't recognise the number, so i decided to step outside and burn some of my precious credit to try the number.
ring... ring "Hello, this is Laura. Please leave a...", and i hung up. Laura was the canadian girl i met last weekend. that explained THAT mystery. i went back into the pub, saving the number as i went and explained what was going on when i got back to our seats, apologising that i was going to take another offer for the evening. we decided to try a change of scenery, winding up at the Bear & Staff in Leicester Square by which time i had more of a plan. Laura had to head home to pick up the ticket (she only had one, but we'd sort the rest out later), then we'd meet at Tottenham Court Road tube station. i took my leave at 7:30 and legged it up Charing Cross Road, whistling as i went.
Apocalyptica are a Finnish Cello Quartet who prefer playing metal to classical music. i got into them years ago thanks to AB and had been quietly enjoying their work ever since. as i neared TCR i started checking the signage on the variouis theatres. there was a queue of metalheads outside The Astoria, the billboard proclaiming "Apocalyptica and Special Guests. i'd found the place at least. standing out the front was a portly man who looked business, with a couple of tickets in hand. i asked if he was selling, and he was. 1 was all i wanted and the price would be £25. the ticket price was £15. ouch. still, he offered to hold one for me to which i replied that if i missed out i missed out and on i went to get some cash out in case the ticket situation was as advertised.
i found myself a spot inside the tube station with a good view of the escalators and proceeded to wait until Laura appeared, walking with a slight limp. she explained that she'd rolled her ankle earlier that day, but was ok to get around so we headed back to the theatre and i made my transaction with the scalper.
inside i was stopped by a couple of large, tough-looking bouncers and told that i had to be searched. riiiighto, i though, but i stood, put my arms out to the sides and was given a thorough pat-down. wallet and camera i explained when he grabbed the lumps in my hoodie pockets. this seemed to satisfy him and i was allowed on my way. inside it was packed - we were a little late getting in and the support act was just finishing off so we took up station in front of the bar where we'd have something to lean on and managed some conversation over the noise of the crowd while the support act got their gear off the stage. basic sort of stuff - how's your week been? i didn't realise you were into metal... how did the rest of your night go last weekend?
shortly afterwards the band was heralded onto the stage by the screams of hundreds of adoring fans. they came out carrying their cellos to where 4 skull-motif chairs were sitting and went about their business of rocking the house. i was amazed - the mosh pit was remarkably well-behaved while the band belted out song after song and generally had a ball. this was the last show of their 176-show tour, they explained, but they were still really excited to be here. you bet they are, i thought, after tonight you get to go home... still, they played, and the crowd cheered. Laura nicked my camera on and off through the show. her hands were steadier than mine so she was able to get some great, clear shots at high-zoom. me, i was more than happy to let her go nuts. she seemed to be enjoying herself which was good, since i hadn't really picked her as being massively into heavier music. seriously though - what's not to like about a tall blonde finnish bloke swinging his long hair around metal-style while going nuts on a cello, then proclaiming that "We're just four shy finnish boys so we hides behind out hairs"? Apocalyptica is a unique phenomenon and for completely different reasons i, too, was really really pleased to be there.
shenanigans, hijinks, drumsticks being thrown into the crowd, two of the band-members ripping their shirts off or open for the "many beautiful ladies here tonight", they played the two songs that i always think of as being their signature tracks - One by Metallica and In The Hall Of The Mountain King. coats collected, we emerged into the fresh, brisk London air with grins on out faces.
thanks so much for inviting me along tonight - that was awesome!
"Totally! I messaged Jeff as well but I was really hoping you'd get back to me first... I mean, I'm sure he'd have enjoyed it, but I had the feeling this was way more your thing."
well, you were right. well done!
now this was interesting, i though. i'd had the sneaking suspiscion that the two of them had hit it off nicely at dinner the previous weekend. i'd questioned her about it earlier when she mentioned that they'd met up during the week. "Just as friends!" she'd defended. hmm... not that i was going to complain - i got to see Apocalyptica. my first gig in London. i KNEW this place would be great for concerts... next time i need to be more organised. now at least i have someone to drag along who i know won't mind some of the heavier stuff.
i suggested food since it was now nearly 11PM and i hadn't eaten all day, but her ankle was sore and she really needed to get home and take the weight off it. i'd originally intended to walk, at least as far as Trafalgar Square where i could get my regular bus but i decided that i couldn't be bothered so we headed down to the tube and went our separate ways from there.
the train terminated at Kennington - 5 or 10 minutes from home, so i was back on the windy street and headed for the local kebab shop. when i walked into the room Lou had only just gotten home after more drinks and dinner, so i explained the evening while wolfing down a burger and chips (with garlic sauce - Oval Kebab rocks...). i fell asleep some time later, listening to Lou shift in her sleep, letting loose the occasional half-snore while the sound of traffic filtered through the wall and the screams of the crowd faded in my ears...
Fuck yeah! i replied, i love those guys! i'm in Covent Garden already so i can get there easy. i don't have a lot of cash but i can square you later. and... um... who is this?
the suspense wasn't killing me as such, but i WAS curious. ten minutes went by, fifteen, twenty, no reply. i didn't recognise the number, so i decided to step outside and burn some of my precious credit to try the number.
ring... ring "Hello, this is Laura. Please leave a...", and i hung up. Laura was the canadian girl i met last weekend. that explained THAT mystery. i went back into the pub, saving the number as i went and explained what was going on when i got back to our seats, apologising that i was going to take another offer for the evening. we decided to try a change of scenery, winding up at the Bear & Staff in Leicester Square by which time i had more of a plan. Laura had to head home to pick up the ticket (she only had one, but we'd sort the rest out later), then we'd meet at Tottenham Court Road tube station. i took my leave at 7:30 and legged it up Charing Cross Road, whistling as i went.
Apocalyptica are a Finnish Cello Quartet who prefer playing metal to classical music. i got into them years ago thanks to AB and had been quietly enjoying their work ever since. as i neared TCR i started checking the signage on the variouis theatres. there was a queue of metalheads outside The Astoria, the billboard proclaiming "Apocalyptica and Special Guests. i'd found the place at least. standing out the front was a portly man who looked business, with a couple of tickets in hand. i asked if he was selling, and he was. 1 was all i wanted and the price would be £25. the ticket price was £15. ouch. still, he offered to hold one for me to which i replied that if i missed out i missed out and on i went to get some cash out in case the ticket situation was as advertised.
i found myself a spot inside the tube station with a good view of the escalators and proceeded to wait until Laura appeared, walking with a slight limp. she explained that she'd rolled her ankle earlier that day, but was ok to get around so we headed back to the theatre and i made my transaction with the scalper.
inside i was stopped by a couple of large, tough-looking bouncers and told that i had to be searched. riiiighto, i though, but i stood, put my arms out to the sides and was given a thorough pat-down. wallet and camera i explained when he grabbed the lumps in my hoodie pockets. this seemed to satisfy him and i was allowed on my way. inside it was packed - we were a little late getting in and the support act was just finishing off so we took up station in front of the bar where we'd have something to lean on and managed some conversation over the noise of the crowd while the support act got their gear off the stage. basic sort of stuff - how's your week been? i didn't realise you were into metal... how did the rest of your night go last weekend?
shortly afterwards the band was heralded onto the stage by the screams of hundreds of adoring fans. they came out carrying their cellos to where 4 skull-motif chairs were sitting and went about their business of rocking the house. i was amazed - the mosh pit was remarkably well-behaved while the band belted out song after song and generally had a ball. this was the last show of their 176-show tour, they explained, but they were still really excited to be here. you bet they are, i thought, after tonight you get to go home... still, they played, and the crowd cheered. Laura nicked my camera on and off through the show. her hands were steadier than mine so she was able to get some great, clear shots at high-zoom. me, i was more than happy to let her go nuts. she seemed to be enjoying herself which was good, since i hadn't really picked her as being massively into heavier music. seriously though - what's not to like about a tall blonde finnish bloke swinging his long hair around metal-style while going nuts on a cello, then proclaiming that "We're just four shy finnish boys so we hides behind out hairs"? Apocalyptica is a unique phenomenon and for completely different reasons i, too, was really really pleased to be there.
shenanigans, hijinks, drumsticks being thrown into the crowd, two of the band-members ripping their shirts off or open for the "many beautiful ladies here tonight", they played the two songs that i always think of as being their signature tracks - One by Metallica and In The Hall Of The Mountain King. coats collected, we emerged into the fresh, brisk London air with grins on out faces.
thanks so much for inviting me along tonight - that was awesome!
"Totally! I messaged Jeff as well but I was really hoping you'd get back to me first... I mean, I'm sure he'd have enjoyed it, but I had the feeling this was way more your thing."
well, you were right. well done!
now this was interesting, i though. i'd had the sneaking suspiscion that the two of them had hit it off nicely at dinner the previous weekend. i'd questioned her about it earlier when she mentioned that they'd met up during the week. "Just as friends!" she'd defended. hmm... not that i was going to complain - i got to see Apocalyptica. my first gig in London. i KNEW this place would be great for concerts... next time i need to be more organised. now at least i have someone to drag along who i know won't mind some of the heavier stuff.
i suggested food since it was now nearly 11PM and i hadn't eaten all day, but her ankle was sore and she really needed to get home and take the weight off it. i'd originally intended to walk, at least as far as Trafalgar Square where i could get my regular bus but i decided that i couldn't be bothered so we headed down to the tube and went our separate ways from there.
the train terminated at Kennington - 5 or 10 minutes from home, so i was back on the windy street and headed for the local kebab shop. when i walked into the room Lou had only just gotten home after more drinks and dinner, so i explained the evening while wolfing down a burger and chips (with garlic sauce - Oval Kebab rocks...). i fell asleep some time later, listening to Lou shift in her sleep, letting loose the occasional half-snore while the sound of traffic filtered through the wall and the screams of the crowd faded in my ears...
Monday, December 8, 2008
find your groove...
a red-painted rail separates hundreds of people every couple of minutes walking in opposite directions down the tunnel 20 or so metres below street-level between the Northern and Central lines at Tottenham Court Road station. amongst them i'm nobody. a man in a black coat in a sea of muted colours enjoying the anonymity. move with the flow, follow the tunnel right and down again to the westbound line and wait for the next train to come, heralded by the signature breeze that flows past and around the people waiting up and down the long platform. it's less than three minutes away, and there'll be another one a minute or two later. none of this really registers anymore. it's all become routine.
i left the house 20 minutes beforehand. get dressed after having a shower, layer after layer to keep me warm through the night. singlet, long-sleaved shirt, hoodie, trousers, heavy boots, black coat. my hat tops it off and i check myself in the mirror on the other side of the bed. wallet loaded, accessories stowed in their usual pockets, shoulder bag slung and i'm out the door, down the stairs and on the street. i'm at the tube station 30 seconds later. on my right are the terminals where you can top up your Oyster Card. i feed the machine 20 quid to keep me covered for the next week or two, head through the gate and down the escalator to the platform. i've stowed a book in my shoulder-bag, so i pull it out and begin to read while leaning against the wall. i barely look up to get on the train and i don't bother getting comfortable because i'm off again at Kennington - the next stop. crossing through the short corridor separating platforms, there's another train waiting to take me up the Charing Cross branch of the Northern Line, where i get off at Tottenham Court Road station and follow the maze across to the Central Line, the dripping blood picture on the big white book earning the occasional glance from passers-by. The Used is playing on my Portable Sanity Device, keeping me paraxodically calm. no worries, no fuss, no paranoid inspection of maps because i know how to read the signs at a glance now and my feet know where they're going. another chapter goes by and simultaneously 2 other people nearby are closing and stowing their books, marks slipped between the pages by expert fingers and all three of us are standing to exit at Notting Hill Gate.
back on the surface the air is brisk after the air below, warmed by the train's electric motors and the body heat of thousands of commuters. i can't see any signs for the streets and i don't realise until i've gone 50 meters that i've taken the wrong street, so i back-track and get it right the second time. it's not an issue, it barely registers - it's easy to miss the signs and often easier to just head off in a random direction until you see something to tell you what street you exited the station on. the procedure is spinal now. i'd checked and memorised the time for the last service without thinking about it back at Oval Station so i already knew when i'd have to start making tracks. i'm meeting up with a group of random people who've met on Facebook at a mexican restaurant and as usual i'm the first one there, ten or fifteen minutes early. another album starts playing before my phone rings.
dude. i'm here already - where you at? no worries. k, see you in 5. i'll be out the front. soonkbye.
it's 7:03. these are the first words i've spoken all day... or did i mutter to myself in the shower? i don't remember. it's not important. Adnan shows up as advertised, the instigator of the group. Jeff is next - another Aussie who's been country-hopping for the last few years. Laura, a canadian from Vancouver is next by a tiny margin. i've met Adnan and Jeff before, but since Laura's avatar is a carebear we have no idea what we're looking for. i can't talk - mine's a picture of my old steelcaps. Jessica and her friends Anna and Antonia are a step behind - three german girls, each as different from the other as you could get, making 7. introductions made, we're playing the "getting to know you" games you play when complete strangers meet for the first time. we wait, making small talk in the cold for 20 minutes waiting for a table and soon food and margaritas are arriving, conversations shifting back and forth, exchanging stories, cracking jokes and a little play-flirting, fun and games. i'm challenged to up my chili-dose, which i do with a smile on my face. a small, fresh chili from Adnan's drink is put in front of me so i figure, what the fuck? down it goes and i'm sweating, eyes wrapping themselves in tears while i sit there enjoying the burn and sipping gratefully at people's offered drinks. i'm accused of looking "surprisingly composed". hey - it's all amusing.
we get the fuck out (my words) once we've finished ordering seconds and found a really nice, traditional-looking pub on Portobello Rd. where we sink pints and keep exchanging stories until we're kicked out at 11:15. Jeff tells of his travels from Japan to Korea to Canada to Britain and i explain the politics of sharing a room with a platonic friend and how we'd come to be here while people look intrigued at the concept. two different stories that they'd heard of people doing, but never met anyone who had.
"Man, and I thought my broom closet and tiny single bed were bad," Jeff opines.
yeah mate, but at least you can jerk off in peace.
"That's true, and it's one thing I'm REALLY thankful for," he replies while the girls giggle and Adnan looks shocked.
an argument ensues when we get out the door as to where we should go next. the consensus seems to be that we should head somewhere central so that we can all get home ok afterwards. Oxford Circus is declared the next stop, simply because there's plenty nearby, fulfils the "central" requirement and i'm sick of this conversation by now so impose the call. we wind up at a trendy-looking place with terrible beer on tap just off Carnaby st and Regent St that keeps us entertained until 1ish. things were looking interesting between Jeff and Laura - he'd spent his canadian year in Vancouver, so they had lots to talk about, but she'd run into some other friends randomly at the bar. Adnan sat on a couch while i exchanged mandarin swear words for Jessica's german, the other girls giggling at my (admittedly poor) pronunciation, playing with language like it's a toy.
1AM rolls around and the germans are gone. the boys are all tired and ready to book out and Laura rejoins us because she has no idea how to get from Regent St to London Bridge where there's a party going on. we're invited, but the £15 cover charge is too steep. Adnan and i walk her down to The Strand until we find a couple of Night Buses she can use and then there were two - Adnan and i walking across the Thames where we part company and i start the half-hour walk home with a choice selection from the Guitar Hero games playing in my ears. it's cold, but i'm walking fast enough not to notice. without anyone else to slow down for i fall into my long, comfortable stride - the one that i can keep up for most of the day while i cross cities, whistling along to Killswitch Engage, ignoring people's requests for cigarettes or change, not breaking stride, i feign dropping some rubbish in a bin so that i can check behind me but they're gone, far in the other direction.
in the door and up the stairs, Lou and i wave at each other as i come in tired and sweaty. we've not exchanged words in 24 hours now and i'm curious as to what's going on, but not about to rock the boat. i desperately need to shed my layers and get some water into me. there's an episode of Stargate: Atlantis that isn't going to watch itself and another chapter or two of Darkly Dreaming Dexter to read before i'll be ready to sleep and it's already 2:30AM. it's been a great night out but tomorrow i'll have to be productive. i've not washed my sheets since we moved in here over a month ago and i'm over it. the problem is that there's no way to dry them out at home before i'll want to sleep on them again so it'll require a trip to a laundromat. i'm sure the one on Brixton Road will be open on a Sunday afternoon. but that's something to worry about tomorrow when i'm not slightly drunk and exhausted, but in a good mood regardless.
i've found the pace of this city and slotted in nicely and for now that's enough, although a look through the pictures on a particular Facebook account serve to remind me what, and how much, i'm missing. my very own unique monkey clinging to my back. something i say i'll worry about more another day, but will nonetheless keep cropping up in my mind. snooping Facebook was a mistake, but one i can live with and at least won't stop me from getting to sleep tonight. strangely, it still puts a smile on my face which makes it all worth it...
i left the house 20 minutes beforehand. get dressed after having a shower, layer after layer to keep me warm through the night. singlet, long-sleaved shirt, hoodie, trousers, heavy boots, black coat. my hat tops it off and i check myself in the mirror on the other side of the bed. wallet loaded, accessories stowed in their usual pockets, shoulder bag slung and i'm out the door, down the stairs and on the street. i'm at the tube station 30 seconds later. on my right are the terminals where you can top up your Oyster Card. i feed the machine 20 quid to keep me covered for the next week or two, head through the gate and down the escalator to the platform. i've stowed a book in my shoulder-bag, so i pull it out and begin to read while leaning against the wall. i barely look up to get on the train and i don't bother getting comfortable because i'm off again at Kennington - the next stop. crossing through the short corridor separating platforms, there's another train waiting to take me up the Charing Cross branch of the Northern Line, where i get off at Tottenham Court Road station and follow the maze across to the Central Line, the dripping blood picture on the big white book earning the occasional glance from passers-by. The Used is playing on my Portable Sanity Device, keeping me paraxodically calm. no worries, no fuss, no paranoid inspection of maps because i know how to read the signs at a glance now and my feet know where they're going. another chapter goes by and simultaneously 2 other people nearby are closing and stowing their books, marks slipped between the pages by expert fingers and all three of us are standing to exit at Notting Hill Gate.
back on the surface the air is brisk after the air below, warmed by the train's electric motors and the body heat of thousands of commuters. i can't see any signs for the streets and i don't realise until i've gone 50 meters that i've taken the wrong street, so i back-track and get it right the second time. it's not an issue, it barely registers - it's easy to miss the signs and often easier to just head off in a random direction until you see something to tell you what street you exited the station on. the procedure is spinal now. i'd checked and memorised the time for the last service without thinking about it back at Oval Station so i already knew when i'd have to start making tracks. i'm meeting up with a group of random people who've met on Facebook at a mexican restaurant and as usual i'm the first one there, ten or fifteen minutes early. another album starts playing before my phone rings.
dude. i'm here already - where you at? no worries. k, see you in 5. i'll be out the front. soonkbye.
it's 7:03. these are the first words i've spoken all day... or did i mutter to myself in the shower? i don't remember. it's not important. Adnan shows up as advertised, the instigator of the group. Jeff is next - another Aussie who's been country-hopping for the last few years. Laura, a canadian from Vancouver is next by a tiny margin. i've met Adnan and Jeff before, but since Laura's avatar is a carebear we have no idea what we're looking for. i can't talk - mine's a picture of my old steelcaps. Jessica and her friends Anna and Antonia are a step behind - three german girls, each as different from the other as you could get, making 7. introductions made, we're playing the "getting to know you" games you play when complete strangers meet for the first time. we wait, making small talk in the cold for 20 minutes waiting for a table and soon food and margaritas are arriving, conversations shifting back and forth, exchanging stories, cracking jokes and a little play-flirting, fun and games. i'm challenged to up my chili-dose, which i do with a smile on my face. a small, fresh chili from Adnan's drink is put in front of me so i figure, what the fuck? down it goes and i'm sweating, eyes wrapping themselves in tears while i sit there enjoying the burn and sipping gratefully at people's offered drinks. i'm accused of looking "surprisingly composed". hey - it's all amusing.
we get the fuck out (my words) once we've finished ordering seconds and found a really nice, traditional-looking pub on Portobello Rd. where we sink pints and keep exchanging stories until we're kicked out at 11:15. Jeff tells of his travels from Japan to Korea to Canada to Britain and i explain the politics of sharing a room with a platonic friend and how we'd come to be here while people look intrigued at the concept. two different stories that they'd heard of people doing, but never met anyone who had.
"Man, and I thought my broom closet and tiny single bed were bad," Jeff opines.
yeah mate, but at least you can jerk off in peace.
"That's true, and it's one thing I'm REALLY thankful for," he replies while the girls giggle and Adnan looks shocked.
an argument ensues when we get out the door as to where we should go next. the consensus seems to be that we should head somewhere central so that we can all get home ok afterwards. Oxford Circus is declared the next stop, simply because there's plenty nearby, fulfils the "central" requirement and i'm sick of this conversation by now so impose the call. we wind up at a trendy-looking place with terrible beer on tap just off Carnaby st and Regent St that keeps us entertained until 1ish. things were looking interesting between Jeff and Laura - he'd spent his canadian year in Vancouver, so they had lots to talk about, but she'd run into some other friends randomly at the bar. Adnan sat on a couch while i exchanged mandarin swear words for Jessica's german, the other girls giggling at my (admittedly poor) pronunciation, playing with language like it's a toy.
1AM rolls around and the germans are gone. the boys are all tired and ready to book out and Laura rejoins us because she has no idea how to get from Regent St to London Bridge where there's a party going on. we're invited, but the £15 cover charge is too steep. Adnan and i walk her down to The Strand until we find a couple of Night Buses she can use and then there were two - Adnan and i walking across the Thames where we part company and i start the half-hour walk home with a choice selection from the Guitar Hero games playing in my ears. it's cold, but i'm walking fast enough not to notice. without anyone else to slow down for i fall into my long, comfortable stride - the one that i can keep up for most of the day while i cross cities, whistling along to Killswitch Engage, ignoring people's requests for cigarettes or change, not breaking stride, i feign dropping some rubbish in a bin so that i can check behind me but they're gone, far in the other direction.
in the door and up the stairs, Lou and i wave at each other as i come in tired and sweaty. we've not exchanged words in 24 hours now and i'm curious as to what's going on, but not about to rock the boat. i desperately need to shed my layers and get some water into me. there's an episode of Stargate: Atlantis that isn't going to watch itself and another chapter or two of Darkly Dreaming Dexter to read before i'll be ready to sleep and it's already 2:30AM. it's been a great night out but tomorrow i'll have to be productive. i've not washed my sheets since we moved in here over a month ago and i'm over it. the problem is that there's no way to dry them out at home before i'll want to sleep on them again so it'll require a trip to a laundromat. i'm sure the one on Brixton Road will be open on a Sunday afternoon. but that's something to worry about tomorrow when i'm not slightly drunk and exhausted, but in a good mood regardless.
i've found the pace of this city and slotted in nicely and for now that's enough, although a look through the pictures on a particular Facebook account serve to remind me what, and how much, i'm missing. my very own unique monkey clinging to my back. something i say i'll worry about more another day, but will nonetheless keep cropping up in my mind. snooping Facebook was a mistake, but one i can live with and at least won't stop me from getting to sleep tonight. strangely, it still puts a smile on my face which makes it all worth it...
Saturday, December 6, 2008
friends of friends...
another week of job hunting, and it's not gutting me like it has in weeks gone by. the frustration remains, but i'm so used to it that it's become routine. bizarrely, things seem to be looking up. i had two pimps fighting over me for a role last week which is always gratifying and while there are less jobs going i somehow seem to have more traction. i had a great moment earlier today when one of the pimps i met with last week called me up. she put me down for a role on Tuesday which was junior, and underpaid, but not so objectionable that it'd kill me, so i was surprised to hear that the client had revised the job description, £50/day. great news - more than enough to bring me from grudgingly accepting to really quite interested. with any luck i'll have more news come monday.
monday's going to be good for other reasons too - Lou starts her new job on monday. we got her contract sorted through the same Umbrella Company i'm using so everything from here should be easy. while it's not a complete life-saver, her two week trial will cover her for a month's rent and expenses and that that's golden for her right now. if those two weeks go well and the work continues she should be well sorted for the near future. here's hoping.
a week or so ago i got an email from Ali - a friend of Sandra's. i'd completely forgotten she was coming through London for a week before heading off on a Contiki tour of Europe. i sent her some useful information about how to get from Heathrow to where said she was staying, addresses for the transport websites and my home address so that she could get an Oyster Card to make it easier for her to get around. we met up on Tuesday afternoon at Oxford Circus and i took her for a walk down Regent St, through Leicester Square to Trafalgar Square, then down Whitehall to Westminster. we crossed the Thames and passed the London Eye before crossing back over at Blackfriars Bridge and took Fleet St and The Strand back towards Soho. she'd gotten off her flight at OMFG that morning and my goal was to keep her out in natural light for as long as she could stand and keep her exercising so that she could beat the jet-lag and guarantee a good night's sleep. worked like a charm, she told me later, apart for the blisters on her feet. i took her out for another wander today, wandering through Covent Garden, past the Australian High Commission (where, she said, the Gringott's Bank scenes were shot for the Harry Potter movies), then up Kingsway and down High Holborn back to Oxford St. i'd dropped my coat back at the shop earlier in the day after discovering that the lining was starting to come apart and they promised it back mended before 5. it was great wandering around the streets that are now familiar to me while seeing it all through the eyes of someone Fresh Off The Boat - all the time reminding me what it was like when i first arrived two months prior.
two months. that's fucking insane. i can't believe i've been here for two months now.
either way, we had a pleasant time shooting the breeze and me playing tour-guide until we parted company just before 5. i grabbed my coat and, now feeling complete and not to mention: warm again, i headed back down Oxford St to grab the tube up to Archway - north of Camden. Moonbug was having Part 1 of her birthday party up there later in the evening and with time to kill i wandered into a couple of book shops and came out with an Omnibus containing all three of the Dexter books which i proceeded to read on the tube north, and more so while leaning against the wall next to a girl collecting for Breast Cancer research, waiting for Lou to meet me up.
we were early - 45 minutes early in fact, and since i'd already had a beer donated by a californian guy who struck up a conversation (he asked for a cigarette and while i had none we got chatting. he explained that he was a recovering alcoholic while he swigged at the tinnie of beer in his hand, and he was out and about trying to change the world for the better.
".. and if i die trying then it was worth it," he said.
as long as you don't die with a Kronenbourg in your hand, mate, i'm sure you'll be fine.
"Hey, I've got a spare in my bag if you'd like one."
Mate! i'll never say no to a beer!
and so it was that i had myself a beer with this pleasant, if misguided, american lad) while i was checking the streets outside, so we hit the pub across the road from the tube station.
tea was pleasant - Moonbug's friends are an entertaining bunch. amusingly, two of the girls there were, like Moonbug and i, also from Perth and we had a long remembrance of some of our favourite places in the Old Town - UWA and its Tav, The Last Drop, Broadway Pizza and Fish & Chips, Banana splits at The Moon Cafe, South Perth Foreshore and skinny-dipping at Swanbourne Beach - those places you know because you grew up there, you were taken by someone, or you found it by accident. poor Lou was thoughtlessly left out of the love-in. still, we had a good time there, and later in Camden at a bar which specialised in belgian and trappist beers.
it's been pleasant of late. i'm spending many an evening quietly lying around playing games or watching tv shows on my laptop. Lou lies around with her isolation-earphones in watching movies or listening to audiobooks or talking to Paully. she's been sick as sick. Friday was her first night out in a couple of weeks. hell - it was the longest i'd seen her out of bed in some time. i'm getting bits and pieces of news from home. people are being thoughtful enough to keep me informed as to current affairs and gossip which either doesn't bear mentioning here, or will need its own review when i've more time. i've only been writing for two hours now (some posts get back-dated or written out of order. i don't like to make a big deal about this, but it bears mentioning. the bug bit me tonight so i wanted to catch up while i had it in me) and i'm not about to tackle another topic right now. all in all it's been quiet, although pleasantly so. i'm getting out on the weekends and for now this is enough. come xmas i'm thinking of biting the bullet and doing a trip. i don't want to spend the money, but i know that it'd amuse me sufficiently that i wouldn't feel so bad about lying low again afterwards. i'm considering Scotland, but i'll see how i'm feeling in a week or so.
right now i'm going to head for bed. there's no more job-hunting to be done until monday so i'll put it out of my mind until then and maybe do some hacking of a couple of interesting automation and customisation scripts i read about and have been meaning to play with. getting my geek on helps keep my mind in gear. i've also been designing the home media and entertainment network i'd build when i settle down. it's amusing, if only as a mental and research exercise - finding the components, working out how i'd mesh it all together and costing it all out. honestly, this can actualy be more fun than actually building the thing because once i build it and it's all running the real fun's all over. the rest is just using the thing and that's never quite so exciting.
either way, i'm doing well - much better than a couple of weeks ago. i'm alive and grooving and finding my way and my mood is certainly improving. i can't help but feel that something good this way comes and i think that's a feeling that i can live with for the next little while.
monday's going to be good for other reasons too - Lou starts her new job on monday. we got her contract sorted through the same Umbrella Company i'm using so everything from here should be easy. while it's not a complete life-saver, her two week trial will cover her for a month's rent and expenses and that that's golden for her right now. if those two weeks go well and the work continues she should be well sorted for the near future. here's hoping.
a week or so ago i got an email from Ali - a friend of Sandra's. i'd completely forgotten she was coming through London for a week before heading off on a Contiki tour of Europe. i sent her some useful information about how to get from Heathrow to where said she was staying, addresses for the transport websites and my home address so that she could get an Oyster Card to make it easier for her to get around. we met up on Tuesday afternoon at Oxford Circus and i took her for a walk down Regent St, through Leicester Square to Trafalgar Square, then down Whitehall to Westminster. we crossed the Thames and passed the London Eye before crossing back over at Blackfriars Bridge and took Fleet St and The Strand back towards Soho. she'd gotten off her flight at OMFG that morning and my goal was to keep her out in natural light for as long as she could stand and keep her exercising so that she could beat the jet-lag and guarantee a good night's sleep. worked like a charm, she told me later, apart for the blisters on her feet. i took her out for another wander today, wandering through Covent Garden, past the Australian High Commission (where, she said, the Gringott's Bank scenes were shot for the Harry Potter movies), then up Kingsway and down High Holborn back to Oxford St. i'd dropped my coat back at the shop earlier in the day after discovering that the lining was starting to come apart and they promised it back mended before 5. it was great wandering around the streets that are now familiar to me while seeing it all through the eyes of someone Fresh Off The Boat - all the time reminding me what it was like when i first arrived two months prior.
two months. that's fucking insane. i can't believe i've been here for two months now.
either way, we had a pleasant time shooting the breeze and me playing tour-guide until we parted company just before 5. i grabbed my coat and, now feeling complete and not to mention: warm again, i headed back down Oxford St to grab the tube up to Archway - north of Camden. Moonbug was having Part 1 of her birthday party up there later in the evening and with time to kill i wandered into a couple of book shops and came out with an Omnibus containing all three of the Dexter books which i proceeded to read on the tube north, and more so while leaning against the wall next to a girl collecting for Breast Cancer research, waiting for Lou to meet me up.
we were early - 45 minutes early in fact, and since i'd already had a beer donated by a californian guy who struck up a conversation (he asked for a cigarette and while i had none we got chatting. he explained that he was a recovering alcoholic while he swigged at the tinnie of beer in his hand, and he was out and about trying to change the world for the better.
".. and if i die trying then it was worth it," he said.
as long as you don't die with a Kronenbourg in your hand, mate, i'm sure you'll be fine.
"Hey, I've got a spare in my bag if you'd like one."
Mate! i'll never say no to a beer!
and so it was that i had myself a beer with this pleasant, if misguided, american lad) while i was checking the streets outside, so we hit the pub across the road from the tube station.
tea was pleasant - Moonbug's friends are an entertaining bunch. amusingly, two of the girls there were, like Moonbug and i, also from Perth and we had a long remembrance of some of our favourite places in the Old Town - UWA and its Tav, The Last Drop, Broadway Pizza and Fish & Chips, Banana splits at The Moon Cafe, South Perth Foreshore and skinny-dipping at Swanbourne Beach - those places you know because you grew up there, you were taken by someone, or you found it by accident. poor Lou was thoughtlessly left out of the love-in. still, we had a good time there, and later in Camden at a bar which specialised in belgian and trappist beers.
it's been pleasant of late. i'm spending many an evening quietly lying around playing games or watching tv shows on my laptop. Lou lies around with her isolation-earphones in watching movies or listening to audiobooks or talking to Paully. she's been sick as sick. Friday was her first night out in a couple of weeks. hell - it was the longest i'd seen her out of bed in some time. i'm getting bits and pieces of news from home. people are being thoughtful enough to keep me informed as to current affairs and gossip which either doesn't bear mentioning here, or will need its own review when i've more time. i've only been writing for two hours now (some posts get back-dated or written out of order. i don't like to make a big deal about this, but it bears mentioning. the bug bit me tonight so i wanted to catch up while i had it in me) and i'm not about to tackle another topic right now. all in all it's been quiet, although pleasantly so. i'm getting out on the weekends and for now this is enough. come xmas i'm thinking of biting the bullet and doing a trip. i don't want to spend the money, but i know that it'd amuse me sufficiently that i wouldn't feel so bad about lying low again afterwards. i'm considering Scotland, but i'll see how i'm feeling in a week or so.
right now i'm going to head for bed. there's no more job-hunting to be done until monday so i'll put it out of my mind until then and maybe do some hacking of a couple of interesting automation and customisation scripts i read about and have been meaning to play with. getting my geek on helps keep my mind in gear. i've also been designing the home media and entertainment network i'd build when i settle down. it's amusing, if only as a mental and research exercise - finding the components, working out how i'd mesh it all together and costing it all out. honestly, this can actualy be more fun than actually building the thing because once i build it and it's all running the real fun's all over. the rest is just using the thing and that's never quite so exciting.
either way, i'm doing well - much better than a couple of weeks ago. i'm alive and grooving and finding my way and my mood is certainly improving. i can't help but feel that something good this way comes and i think that's a feeling that i can live with for the next little while.
Monday, November 24, 2008
and now, some good news...
we were due for some good news. waking up this afternoon, hung over from a night out in Shoreditch which ended in a walk home from Waterloo and a fight that ended in tears, Lou checked her email to find out that she won the job she interviewed for last monday, and waited all week for word on. it's something i applied for on her behalf a week and a half ago now. a Tester for an IT project running out of one of the universities. at £90/day, it's better paid than almost any of the admin work she's been looking at for the last month or so, and if she's lucky it might lead to a better career than being a recptionist. it's only a 2 week trial to start with, but i have every confidence that she'll make it through that just fine. it's great news, especially because it will ease the financial situation. Lou was always going to run out of cash before i was, and this means that it'll just be me bleeding cash onto the pavement.
speaking of bleeding cash, i finally bit the bullet yesterday and dropped a stack of cash on Regent St. i'd gone on a wander on friday evening after leaving Leicester Square. it was 4PM, getting dark, and i was in no mood to head home just yet so i wandered up there. it's barely even a 5 minute walk fromee Leicester Square - you cut across the north end, cross a couple of roads and you find yourself in Piccadilly Circus. Regent St heads off there directly to Oxford Circus. i'm still trying to work out the local meaning of the word, but there are a few of them around. anyway, i meandered up and down the street for a while trying stuff on, came up with a couple of candidates and decided to come back again later. when i spoke to Lou she was entirely up for the idea of spending someone else's money so on Saturday afternoon we headed in.
after dismissing the candidates i'd come up with the day before we wound up back in Tom Baker which i've been led to believe is something of a boutique. 20% off everything, you say? the niciest jacket i've seen so far, you say? give me that, and that and i'll pay Richard Branson off shortly. it's warm, comfortable and very very nice, as is the shirt i picked up (since the discount covered the cost of a really nice shirt i figured that i might as well consider it to be a package deal). i didn't want to be spending the money just yet but i'm past caring right now. it was a nice little pick-me-up and now i'll be warmer when we go out in the evening.
tomorrow i'm meeting with another pimp about a job out near Earling Broadway - at the far west-end of the Central Line. it'd mean around a 45 minute commute, but there are far worse commutes to be had in this town and right now, it'd be worth it to be able to get into work. get me though the next 3 months, get some cash into me so that i don't feel guilty every time i order a beer and hopefully get me past the current economic insanity. there are a couple of others i have to chase up about other roles, and another meeting on wednesday.
right now i'm sitting on the floor of our room with my Eee on my lap while i watch Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. i upgraded the OS on this thing from Hardy Heron (8.04) to Intrepid Ibex (8.10) a couple of days ago, partly in the hope that it'd fix some of the problems i was having, but mostly because i was kinda hoping that it'd break a few things that i could put some time and effort into fixing. i think it's all back up and running again now - i spent 3 or 4 hours earlier testing the speakers, microphone, camera, Skype, networking, all the functions i use. now it works i've started reading up on schematics with vague thoughts of pulling it to pieces and messing with the hardware. i'm liking the idea of installing a couple of LED's in the screen frame which are powered off the backlight (or something like that) so that i can see the keys when i use this thing in the dark. it's a silly project, but it'd keep me occupied, and my mind switched on for quite a while. not that i have the tools i need here - drill, files, multimeter, soldering iron, none of these things. perhaps if i'd been a little less preoccupied before i left i'd have done it before i left, but what the hell.
but hey - at least we met some interesting people last night.
speaking of bleeding cash, i finally bit the bullet yesterday and dropped a stack of cash on Regent St. i'd gone on a wander on friday evening after leaving Leicester Square. it was 4PM, getting dark, and i was in no mood to head home just yet so i wandered up there. it's barely even a 5 minute walk fromee Leicester Square - you cut across the north end, cross a couple of roads and you find yourself in Piccadilly Circus. Regent St heads off there directly to Oxford Circus. i'm still trying to work out the local meaning of the word, but there are a few of them around. anyway, i meandered up and down the street for a while trying stuff on, came up with a couple of candidates and decided to come back again later. when i spoke to Lou she was entirely up for the idea of spending someone else's money so on Saturday afternoon we headed in.
after dismissing the candidates i'd come up with the day before we wound up back in Tom Baker which i've been led to believe is something of a boutique. 20% off everything, you say? the niciest jacket i've seen so far, you say? give me that, and that and i'll pay Richard Branson off shortly. it's warm, comfortable and very very nice, as is the shirt i picked up (since the discount covered the cost of a really nice shirt i figured that i might as well consider it to be a package deal). i didn't want to be spending the money just yet but i'm past caring right now. it was a nice little pick-me-up and now i'll be warmer when we go out in the evening.
tomorrow i'm meeting with another pimp about a job out near Earling Broadway - at the far west-end of the Central Line. it'd mean around a 45 minute commute, but there are far worse commutes to be had in this town and right now, it'd be worth it to be able to get into work. get me though the next 3 months, get some cash into me so that i don't feel guilty every time i order a beer and hopefully get me past the current economic insanity. there are a couple of others i have to chase up about other roles, and another meeting on wednesday.
right now i'm sitting on the floor of our room with my Eee on my lap while i watch Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. i upgraded the OS on this thing from Hardy Heron (8.04) to Intrepid Ibex (8.10) a couple of days ago, partly in the hope that it'd fix some of the problems i was having, but mostly because i was kinda hoping that it'd break a few things that i could put some time and effort into fixing. i think it's all back up and running again now - i spent 3 or 4 hours earlier testing the speakers, microphone, camera, Skype, networking, all the functions i use. now it works i've started reading up on schematics with vague thoughts of pulling it to pieces and messing with the hardware. i'm liking the idea of installing a couple of LED's in the screen frame which are powered off the backlight (or something like that) so that i can see the keys when i use this thing in the dark. it's a silly project, but it'd keep me occupied, and my mind switched on for quite a while. not that i have the tools i need here - drill, files, multimeter, soldering iron, none of these things. perhaps if i'd been a little less preoccupied before i left i'd have done it before i left, but what the hell.
but hey - at least we met some interesting people last night.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
every once in a while...
since i got here i've been cruising the markets and high streets looking around for a new jacket. my beloved Safety Trench (think Linus' Safety Blanket in Peanuts) sits packed into a suitcase under my old bed in Canberra - a last-minute executive decision leaving it behind as too old, ratty, threadbare and more importantly; thin to cope with the cold here - and so i've been trying to find something nice to take its place.
we've shopped high, we've shopped low, from Brixton to Beckenham, Camden to Croydon, the haute couture of Knightsbridge to the bright lights and crowds of Mayfair. yesterday i was in a shit of a mood and went for another wander up Regent St in the evening. evening here, now, starts at about 4PM - it's well and truly night by 5 and i can see this getting even more extreme. walking outside at midday will see the sun low, low in the sky to the south, not to rise higher until deep into the new year. i had a nice time walking the streets on my own, ducking and darting trough the throngs of friday-evening shoppers. today i dragged Lou back in because, godsdammit i'm getting cold! singlet, long-sleaved tshirt, hoodie, leather jacket and i'm still feeling it.
the candidates i picked out last night were met with disinterest from my fashion consultant. eventually we wound up back at the store i'd lingered in a few weeks ago. 20% off everything in store, you say? the nicest jacket i've seen since i got here, you say? and it's gorgeous - the sort of style that i like. it's showy, but conservative, a magenta-purple lining flashing out as you move. mached up with a violet/silver/black shirt (with cuff links) and my credit card took a £244 hit today.
still, walking off towards the bus (my regular buses go up Regent Street, past Trafalgar square, then straight on towards my house) i was looking a million dollars, and i was warm.
i needed this. it's stupid - i can handle deprivation if i've got something to distract me from it all. greasy food, staying in a backpackers, in an exotic location? no worries? sitting on my hands for weeks on end while the pimps whinge to me about the job market and how hard it is and how great my CV is but right now they specifically need a Server Engineer with experience in a Bank, cleaning out the bonobo cage at the zoo and jizz-mopping at ClubX who'll take £100/day to do a demeaning job headfirst in a bucket of shit? you know, not so much
fuckit. at least i'm going to be wandering the streets in a beautiful jacket i could never have found back home, in the land of the surfies, "pre-stressed" denim and the "doesn't come in black" fucking blandness. fuck it and fuck them all - for a while i'm going to feel like i look good.
i'll get dressed up in it all and get some photos taken soon, i swear. right after i have a shave...
we've shopped high, we've shopped low, from Brixton to Beckenham, Camden to Croydon, the haute couture of Knightsbridge to the bright lights and crowds of Mayfair. yesterday i was in a shit of a mood and went for another wander up Regent St in the evening. evening here, now, starts at about 4PM - it's well and truly night by 5 and i can see this getting even more extreme. walking outside at midday will see the sun low, low in the sky to the south, not to rise higher until deep into the new year. i had a nice time walking the streets on my own, ducking and darting trough the throngs of friday-evening shoppers. today i dragged Lou back in because, godsdammit i'm getting cold! singlet, long-sleaved tshirt, hoodie, leather jacket and i'm still feeling it.
the candidates i picked out last night were met with disinterest from my fashion consultant. eventually we wound up back at the store i'd lingered in a few weeks ago. 20% off everything in store, you say? the nicest jacket i've seen since i got here, you say? and it's gorgeous - the sort of style that i like. it's showy, but conservative, a magenta-purple lining flashing out as you move. mached up with a violet/silver/black shirt (with cuff links) and my credit card took a £244 hit today.
still, walking off towards the bus (my regular buses go up Regent Street, past Trafalgar square, then straight on towards my house) i was looking a million dollars, and i was warm.
i needed this. it's stupid - i can handle deprivation if i've got something to distract me from it all. greasy food, staying in a backpackers, in an exotic location? no worries? sitting on my hands for weeks on end while the pimps whinge to me about the job market and how hard it is and how great my CV is but right now they specifically need a Server Engineer with experience in a Bank, cleaning out the bonobo cage at the zoo and jizz-mopping at ClubX who'll take £100/day to do a demeaning job headfirst in a bucket of shit? you know, not so much
fuckit. at least i'm going to be wandering the streets in a beautiful jacket i could never have found back home, in the land of the surfies, "pre-stressed" denim and the "doesn't come in black" fucking blandness. fuck it and fuck them all - for a while i'm going to feel like i look good.
i'll get dressed up in it all and get some photos taken soon, i swear. right after i have a shave...
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
savouring the fruits of failure...
it's been nearly 2 weeks since i've really felt the need to say anything. it'd be nice to say that this was because i'd been so busy enjoying myself, running around the place that i've not had the time. realistically it's because i've not really done a whole lot. as the costs of living start to bite, and the job hunt proves fruitless, i've been lying low a lot of the time. last week Lou and i headed off to see the local fireworks display for Guy Fawkes Day (me with my V For Vendetta Guy Fawkes mask and all) on the wednesday, then another on the Thames for the Lord Mayor's Show. we wandered Oxford St for a couple of hours on the Monday, and Camden Town a couple of days later. the rest of my time was spent applying for jobs, calling agents, doing interviews (with mixed success) and then chilling out for the evening with the help of Fallout 3.
my job hunting has been a little different to usual. because i'm going through a consulting and umbrella company i've been making use of their office space on many of the days. they have coffee and phones i can use and with the cost of making calls it more than cancels out the bus fare for getting there. that said, this is the hardest i've had to fight to find work in over 5 years. i'll admit that i've had it pretty easy for the last few years in Canberra, but the timing of the fall of the local stock market was cripping and i was wholly unprepared. as it is i've interview for 3 roles. one of them i got, but in a risky move i turned it down because i had 2 more interviews coming up which were more the sort of work i want to do. perhaps i should have taken it, but there was no way to be sure of any outcome and i felt it was worth the risk.
i can say that Camden Town was a funky little area - an entire market of hippie-clothes and accessories, a couple of goth shops which i can see the Canberra Chrome and Perth Sin crowds pecking clean in an orgy of gleeful commerce if but they had the chance, and a generally good vibe. i've found some niceish clothes in and around the place, although most of them outside my current budget. 280 Pounds for a nice coat isn't HORRIBLE when you're earning (and the purple lining was as sexy as chocolate-dipped lesbians), but i wasn't going to spend it right there and then. oddly, Knightsbridge (which is where you can find the buitique stores for Prada, Versache and so forth) was oddly disappointing. Harrods was an exhibition of oppulance and wealth - coats i'd have been happy enough to pay a couple of hundred for basking in the glow of their P999.99 price tags. the Dodi & Dianna memorials (there are two) are... gaudy? i'm not sure if that word addequately describes the lack of taste displayed, but you should never underestimate the love of an extremely rich man for his son. that said, the food court was insane (and amazingly reasonably priced), the Egyptian Escalators incredible (if tacky) and the live singer performing Ave Maria walked to the edge of her balcony so that she could smile and wave at me which put a flattered smile on my face for the following hour.
i vaguely enjoyed Harvey Nichols, although there was nothing much in there that i could see myself wanting to wear. the rest of it was... boring and overpriced, really. Petticoat Lane, i've been told, is something i should go and check out.
we've been getting out here and there when we can in an attempt to keep our spirits up. i'm getting ground down by the constant energy-expenditure of cold- and warm-calling pimps day in and day out. Lou's been having the same problems but with even less motivation, and she's been pining for Paully pretty heavily. we've been here a month now, and the cracks are starting to show in the both of us. another week, i think, and we're going to be looking to change track. maybe make that trip to Amsterdam we'd talked about, or something like that. i don't know, but sooner rather later we're going to have to think of something before someone goes Postal...
my job hunting has been a little different to usual. because i'm going through a consulting and umbrella company i've been making use of their office space on many of the days. they have coffee and phones i can use and with the cost of making calls it more than cancels out the bus fare for getting there. that said, this is the hardest i've had to fight to find work in over 5 years. i'll admit that i've had it pretty easy for the last few years in Canberra, but the timing of the fall of the local stock market was cripping and i was wholly unprepared. as it is i've interview for 3 roles. one of them i got, but in a risky move i turned it down because i had 2 more interviews coming up which were more the sort of work i want to do. perhaps i should have taken it, but there was no way to be sure of any outcome and i felt it was worth the risk.
i can say that Camden Town was a funky little area - an entire market of hippie-clothes and accessories, a couple of goth shops which i can see the Canberra Chrome and Perth Sin crowds pecking clean in an orgy of gleeful commerce if but they had the chance, and a generally good vibe. i've found some niceish clothes in and around the place, although most of them outside my current budget. 280 Pounds for a nice coat isn't HORRIBLE when you're earning (and the purple lining was as sexy as chocolate-dipped lesbians), but i wasn't going to spend it right there and then. oddly, Knightsbridge (which is where you can find the buitique stores for Prada, Versache and so forth) was oddly disappointing. Harrods was an exhibition of oppulance and wealth - coats i'd have been happy enough to pay a couple of hundred for basking in the glow of their P999.99 price tags. the Dodi & Dianna memorials (there are two) are... gaudy? i'm not sure if that word addequately describes the lack of taste displayed, but you should never underestimate the love of an extremely rich man for his son. that said, the food court was insane (and amazingly reasonably priced), the Egyptian Escalators incredible (if tacky) and the live singer performing Ave Maria walked to the edge of her balcony so that she could smile and wave at me which put a flattered smile on my face for the following hour.
i vaguely enjoyed Harvey Nichols, although there was nothing much in there that i could see myself wanting to wear. the rest of it was... boring and overpriced, really. Petticoat Lane, i've been told, is something i should go and check out.
we've been getting out here and there when we can in an attempt to keep our spirits up. i'm getting ground down by the constant energy-expenditure of cold- and warm-calling pimps day in and day out. Lou's been having the same problems but with even less motivation, and she's been pining for Paully pretty heavily. we've been here a month now, and the cracks are starting to show in the both of us. another week, i think, and we're going to be looking to change track. maybe make that trip to Amsterdam we'd talked about, or something like that. i don't know, but sooner rather later we're going to have to think of something before someone goes Postal...
Friday, October 31, 2008
the little differences that keep life interesting...
slowly but surely i'm coming across some of the little differences in language which can lead to embaressment and mirth. it started when i told Alex that i'd put zucchini in the stir fry. "around here," i was told in a straightforward, but helpful way, "it's called a corgette."
eggplants are aubergines, but a loo is still a loo. i'm pretty sure i could get away with referring to it as a bog as well... although not in front of the Queen where it's a lavataory.
a buck's night is a stag night, but hens are still hens. i was corrected on that factoid when we spotted 3 of them, all going in different directions, meeting on a street corner in Piccadilly Circus on a night out in the city. Alex is in the habit of correcting me on these things almost with the sternness of a school ma'am, saying "In Britain, which is where you are, it's called a..." because sometimes i need reminding...
warm beer actually means room temperature... or at least the temperature of the cellar it's stored in, the tap pumps it up the pipes rather than it being force-fed under pressure, needing a couple of pulls to pour the pint and contrary to expectations it's quite pleasantly drinkable. Fosters is in fact served on tap in most of the pubs i've been in so far, but they serve beer as well.
a bottlo or bottle shop is an off-licence and i couldn't help but laugh out loud when we walked into one this evening and found that they had XXXX by the carton in pride of place in the window. when you can get some seriously drinkable polish and czech and belgian beers on the cheap i have no idea why people drink that dirty water, but if i find someone selling Carlton Draught, VB or Pure Blonde i'm getting some, even if just the educate some of the locals.
the public transport system is fantastic and not a shambles, but you do still hear people complain about it when they get delayed a couple of minutes. it takes a lot to get me to use public transport at home. a gun to the head is usually effective, or being in Sydney or Melbourne for a couple of days can usually do it. i've been in a car once since i got here, and then for less than 5 minutes. i have no idea when it'll happen again but i know it won't be soon. the buses still run most of the main routes throughout the night, so before you go out to Islington for an "you can sleep when you're dead" bender you just make sure there's an N-service running and you're set... or you pile as many people as possible into a cab and crash somewhere central.
a kebab uses a pita bread half the size of what i'm used to which is split open and filled, rather than being rolled up. how people eat this on the move i'm still trying to work out. i haven't been able to eat one without it falling to pieces yet.
the hot water is turned off and on like a lightswitch to save power and the water pressure would embarress a 4 year old with a weak bladder but somehow everyone else seems to be able to get all the shampoo out of their hair.
people don't complain about how far they have to walk to get somewhere unless it's over half an hour, it's raining and they forgot their jacket. i remember the moans of complaint i've heard from people when you park at the far end of the car park from the supermarket. here i've carried two armloads of groceries home from the shop in hail and been grateful it was only 25 minutes.
young people don't share houses or flats here - they share rooms so they can afford the rent. you can live comfortably in London on P15k/year. an acceptable starting wage is 7-8/hour, but if you know where to look you can have lunch for P3, and a healthy all you can eat vegetarian buffet for P4.50. enough pre-made soups, pizzas and some pasta and sauces to last 4-5 days can cost as little as a tenner if you're careful and when surrounded by so much decent, cheap food people still flock to Maccas where the prices are almost dollar-for-pound. Pizza Hut charges P11 for a large pizza, but Sainsburys will sell you two for P2.80 that take 5 minutes in the oven.
people sleep shoulder to ankle (we're in a 2 bedroom flat with 6 people in it (the living room's been converted to a bedroom)), but they don't complain about overcrowding. terrace houses are the norm until you get half an hour out of the CBD so the population density is staggering. that sort of density makes it worth running buses, trains and tubes ever 3-5 minutes in peak hours and each one is comfortably packed with people and if a line's starting to get chockers in the morning THEY RUN MORE FUCKING BUSES! a high density draws in the merchants, so when i walk out my front door there's a fried chicken place to the left and a 24-hour convenience store to the right. if i walk 3 minutes i'll go past 2 more fried chicken places, 2 chinese take aways, 3 off-licence convenience stores, one bottlo, a tappas place, an eritrean restaurant, 2 kebab/burger & chips takeaways, 2 high-end delis, 2 dry cleaners, a laundromat, 2 real estate agents and a great southern indian restaurant and this is achieveable because it's so packed together that it's worth it. no fucker has a back yard, but no one i've spoken to cares or else they'd move out to the 'burbs. people don't complain - they just get on with it. everyone gripes, i mean everyone, everywhere, but people don't complain and pontificate about how the government should do something (the whinging pom is dead, or so it seems. they're all too busy apologising for shit they have no control over, like the weather, or the trains running late. i don't understand it either). if they don't like it they fuck off to Manchester or Liverpool. Birmingham's a couple of hours away by train, so you can still come into the city on the weekends. hell - there are people who live in the Midlands and commute into London every day by train, then tube the rest of the way to the CBD, taking two to three hours each way, 5-6 days a week. no one expects to have it all, all at once, so they move around as it suits them.
it's all remarkably entertaining, and i'm loving every confused glance i get when i use a phrase i thought was universal, but turns out it isn't. i told a South African guy today that i was going to bomb something, which i then had to explain meant that i was going to do something poorly and fail (in this case intentionally. alas i failed at failing, but that's another story). i'm loving being different, and obviously so, but only when i want to be... like whenever i open my mouth, grin and say g'day! otherwise, no one notices yet another guy walking by wearing black which is working out pretty well for me right now...
eggplants are aubergines, but a loo is still a loo. i'm pretty sure i could get away with referring to it as a bog as well... although not in front of the Queen where it's a lavataory.
a buck's night is a stag night, but hens are still hens. i was corrected on that factoid when we spotted 3 of them, all going in different directions, meeting on a street corner in Piccadilly Circus on a night out in the city. Alex is in the habit of correcting me on these things almost with the sternness of a school ma'am, saying "In Britain, which is where you are, it's called a..." because sometimes i need reminding...
warm beer actually means room temperature... or at least the temperature of the cellar it's stored in, the tap pumps it up the pipes rather than it being force-fed under pressure, needing a couple of pulls to pour the pint and contrary to expectations it's quite pleasantly drinkable. Fosters is in fact served on tap in most of the pubs i've been in so far, but they serve beer as well.
a bottlo or bottle shop is an off-licence and i couldn't help but laugh out loud when we walked into one this evening and found that they had XXXX by the carton in pride of place in the window. when you can get some seriously drinkable polish and czech and belgian beers on the cheap i have no idea why people drink that dirty water, but if i find someone selling Carlton Draught, VB or Pure Blonde i'm getting some, even if just the educate some of the locals.
the public transport system is fantastic and not a shambles, but you do still hear people complain about it when they get delayed a couple of minutes. it takes a lot to get me to use public transport at home. a gun to the head is usually effective, or being in Sydney or Melbourne for a couple of days can usually do it. i've been in a car once since i got here, and then for less than 5 minutes. i have no idea when it'll happen again but i know it won't be soon. the buses still run most of the main routes throughout the night, so before you go out to Islington for an "you can sleep when you're dead" bender you just make sure there's an N-service running and you're set... or you pile as many people as possible into a cab and crash somewhere central.
a kebab uses a pita bread half the size of what i'm used to which is split open and filled, rather than being rolled up. how people eat this on the move i'm still trying to work out. i haven't been able to eat one without it falling to pieces yet.
the hot water is turned off and on like a lightswitch to save power and the water pressure would embarress a 4 year old with a weak bladder but somehow everyone else seems to be able to get all the shampoo out of their hair.
people don't complain about how far they have to walk to get somewhere unless it's over half an hour, it's raining and they forgot their jacket. i remember the moans of complaint i've heard from people when you park at the far end of the car park from the supermarket. here i've carried two armloads of groceries home from the shop in hail and been grateful it was only 25 minutes.
young people don't share houses or flats here - they share rooms so they can afford the rent. you can live comfortably in London on P15k/year. an acceptable starting wage is 7-8/hour, but if you know where to look you can have lunch for P3, and a healthy all you can eat vegetarian buffet for P4.50. enough pre-made soups, pizzas and some pasta and sauces to last 4-5 days can cost as little as a tenner if you're careful and when surrounded by so much decent, cheap food people still flock to Maccas where the prices are almost dollar-for-pound. Pizza Hut charges P11 for a large pizza, but Sainsburys will sell you two for P2.80 that take 5 minutes in the oven.
people sleep shoulder to ankle (we're in a 2 bedroom flat with 6 people in it (the living room's been converted to a bedroom)), but they don't complain about overcrowding. terrace houses are the norm until you get half an hour out of the CBD so the population density is staggering. that sort of density makes it worth running buses, trains and tubes ever 3-5 minutes in peak hours and each one is comfortably packed with people and if a line's starting to get chockers in the morning THEY RUN MORE FUCKING BUSES! a high density draws in the merchants, so when i walk out my front door there's a fried chicken place to the left and a 24-hour convenience store to the right. if i walk 3 minutes i'll go past 2 more fried chicken places, 2 chinese take aways, 3 off-licence convenience stores, one bottlo, a tappas place, an eritrean restaurant, 2 kebab/burger & chips takeaways, 2 high-end delis, 2 dry cleaners, a laundromat, 2 real estate agents and a great southern indian restaurant and this is achieveable because it's so packed together that it's worth it. no fucker has a back yard, but no one i've spoken to cares or else they'd move out to the 'burbs. people don't complain - they just get on with it. everyone gripes, i mean everyone, everywhere, but people don't complain and pontificate about how the government should do something (the whinging pom is dead, or so it seems. they're all too busy apologising for shit they have no control over, like the weather, or the trains running late. i don't understand it either). if they don't like it they fuck off to Manchester or Liverpool. Birmingham's a couple of hours away by train, so you can still come into the city on the weekends. hell - there are people who live in the Midlands and commute into London every day by train, then tube the rest of the way to the CBD, taking two to three hours each way, 5-6 days a week. no one expects to have it all, all at once, so they move around as it suits them.
it's all remarkably entertaining, and i'm loving every confused glance i get when i use a phrase i thought was universal, but turns out it isn't. i told a South African guy today that i was going to bomb something, which i then had to explain meant that i was going to do something poorly and fail (in this case intentionally. alas i failed at failing, but that's another story). i'm loving being different, and obviously so, but only when i want to be... like whenever i open my mouth, grin and say g'day! otherwise, no one notices yet another guy walking by wearing black which is working out pretty well for me right now...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
a room with a view...
i've been quiet over the last couple of days - after a verbose week or so i dropped off the radar in the face of a huge lack of motivation. my hangover on sunday didn't help one bit. it was Alex's boyfriend Ian's birthday party on saturday night and i wound up getting drunk with the boys out in Islington down the road and around the corner from Angel station. a good night had and i feel i held my end up fairly well. there was one conversation i had with a floppy-haired lad:
"How ye doin? Are ye noo drinkin?
course i am - just havin a break, y'know?
"...I dinn'a think Australians took breaks..."
we got back to Lambeth at somewhere past 4 in the morning after a freezing late night bus ride which i'd have had difficulty navigating while sober, and chose not to think about much while drunk. Alex knows, so we followed Alex. in Alex we trust. joyously, one of the nearby take-aways was open at that ungodly hour and so we got home with hot chips (covered in garlic sauce) in hand.
sunday was one long hangover. i dragged myself up at 1:30 in the afternoon and spent the next 11 hours feeling sorry for myself. a walk down to the local grocers led to the acquisition a fresh baguette, ham, cheese and tomato and this filled the hole, but didn't fix the head. i spent most of the day playing Unreal Tournament sitting in the armchair in the living room and not moving much, apart to refill my water glass.
yesterday was similarly unmotivated. i made the trip into town again to apply for jobs jobs jobs but wasn't performing and so i called it early and returned to my laptop and armchair. the job hunt continues to get me down. i can't help but feel that i'm just about to crack something open and then it all dances away laughing in my face. my hard work on Lou's CV and applications seems to have paid off though - she's landed herself an interview for tomorrow. this is awesome - we need a win.
that said, i'm writing this lying with my headphones on, At The Drive-In playing off my laptop, lying in my own bed in the room we secured a week and a half back. our own room where we impose upon no one and can spread out shit out wherever we please. it's freezing fucking cold outside - i went out to check out the sleety-snow earlier and even with 2 jackets on i was COLD, but it's pleasant in here. the double-glazing keeps the road-noise down to... nothing really. the drone of the cooling fans on our laptops is louder most of the time. there's ample furniture provided with more hanging space and shelving than we need. it's going to be a comfortable base of operations, even if we have absolutely nowhere to put anyone up who comes to visit. it'd be nice to have a flat of our own with our own rooms and a couch we could have surfers on, but have you seen the rents in this fucking town???
we got the move done in the afternoon, after i got back from Leicester Square. it took two trips, mostly because we had to go back to borrow bedding from Alex. that girl is way too nice for her own good. once we get some cash coming in we're taking her and her boyfriend out to an Eritrean place down the road that she's been wanting to go to for ages (i remember her mentioning off-hand once, weeks ago). i've even got Ian on-side and made him promise to find excuses to stop her from going until we get our shit sorted.
regardless, it took us about half an hour to rearrange the room to our liking - shifting things here and there, in and out, until we had a better idea as to where everything would fit. the result is a massive difference which feels more open than before and should suit our needs quite well. we got some photos of what it was like when we got here, if to prove the state of the paint and whatnot. once we've settled in and stuck some things on the walls and hung the flag somewhere (i brought a flag with me. it reminds me of home...) and stopped living out of our fucking suitcases i'll have to take some new ones. it'll be after i've fucking dusted, too - i was almost regretting wearing black when i was shifting the furniture around here i was so covered in dust.
tomorrow i'll go back into town and make more phone calls. i've taken to using the bus since it's almost as quick as the tube, but less than half the price. this is becoming important... not because i've run out of money per se, more that i'm getting tighter than a rabbi on the day before pay-day and i'm trying to stretch my available cash further. it's been so long since i've really had to worry about cash that it's taken me these last 3 weeks to remind myself what it's like to be unemployed with no job lined up. hey - maybe tomorrow, yeah?
"How ye doin? Are ye noo drinkin?
course i am - just havin a break, y'know?
"...I dinn'a think Australians took breaks..."
we got back to Lambeth at somewhere past 4 in the morning after a freezing late night bus ride which i'd have had difficulty navigating while sober, and chose not to think about much while drunk. Alex knows, so we followed Alex. in Alex we trust. joyously, one of the nearby take-aways was open at that ungodly hour and so we got home with hot chips (covered in garlic sauce) in hand.
sunday was one long hangover. i dragged myself up at 1:30 in the afternoon and spent the next 11 hours feeling sorry for myself. a walk down to the local grocers led to the acquisition a fresh baguette, ham, cheese and tomato and this filled the hole, but didn't fix the head. i spent most of the day playing Unreal Tournament sitting in the armchair in the living room and not moving much, apart to refill my water glass.
yesterday was similarly unmotivated. i made the trip into town again to apply for jobs jobs jobs but wasn't performing and so i called it early and returned to my laptop and armchair. the job hunt continues to get me down. i can't help but feel that i'm just about to crack something open and then it all dances away laughing in my face. my hard work on Lou's CV and applications seems to have paid off though - she's landed herself an interview for tomorrow. this is awesome - we need a win.
that said, i'm writing this lying with my headphones on, At The Drive-In playing off my laptop, lying in my own bed in the room we secured a week and a half back. our own room where we impose upon no one and can spread out shit out wherever we please. it's freezing fucking cold outside - i went out to check out the sleety-snow earlier and even with 2 jackets on i was COLD, but it's pleasant in here. the double-glazing keeps the road-noise down to... nothing really. the drone of the cooling fans on our laptops is louder most of the time. there's ample furniture provided with more hanging space and shelving than we need. it's going to be a comfortable base of operations, even if we have absolutely nowhere to put anyone up who comes to visit. it'd be nice to have a flat of our own with our own rooms and a couch we could have surfers on, but have you seen the rents in this fucking town???
we got the move done in the afternoon, after i got back from Leicester Square. it took two trips, mostly because we had to go back to borrow bedding from Alex. that girl is way too nice for her own good. once we get some cash coming in we're taking her and her boyfriend out to an Eritrean place down the road that she's been wanting to go to for ages (i remember her mentioning off-hand once, weeks ago). i've even got Ian on-side and made him promise to find excuses to stop her from going until we get our shit sorted.
regardless, it took us about half an hour to rearrange the room to our liking - shifting things here and there, in and out, until we had a better idea as to where everything would fit. the result is a massive difference which feels more open than before and should suit our needs quite well. we got some photos of what it was like when we got here, if to prove the state of the paint and whatnot. once we've settled in and stuck some things on the walls and hung the flag somewhere (i brought a flag with me. it reminds me of home...) and stopped living out of our fucking suitcases i'll have to take some new ones. it'll be after i've fucking dusted, too - i was almost regretting wearing black when i was shifting the furniture around here i was so covered in dust.
tomorrow i'll go back into town and make more phone calls. i've taken to using the bus since it's almost as quick as the tube, but less than half the price. this is becoming important... not because i've run out of money per se, more that i'm getting tighter than a rabbi on the day before pay-day and i'm trying to stretch my available cash further. it's been so long since i've really had to worry about cash that it's taken me these last 3 weeks to remind myself what it's like to be unemployed with no job lined up. hey - maybe tomorrow, yeah?
Friday, October 24, 2008
city of lights and sirens...
there are two impressions of this place which i think will remain with me for a long, long time... that is, unless something else particularly nasty or, conversely, awesome happens. one of these is the near constant sound of sirens you get in the inner city. staying with Lou's cousin Alex just off Brixton Rd in South Lambeth it seemed like every 10 minutes there'll be another siren. walking across Westminster Bridge, or past Buckingham Palace, or just about anywhere in Zone 1 and there'll be cops screaming past in full lights & sirens mode. walking back towards the Underground along Portabello Rd in Notting Hill and there was an ambulance parting the crowds like they were the Red Sea.
out in Beckenham has been much, much quieter. almost disconcertingly so. last night when i stuck my head out the door for some fresh air before bed (Lou's Gran keeps the heat high in here, so if i air out my room it cools down enough to be comfortable to sleep in) and all i could hear was a cat yowling off in the distance... probably being eaten by one of the urban foxes they get around here. i never see stray cats and dogs, but i've seen a few foxes. it's a little disconcerting - a reminder that i'm a long way from home.
out in the cold night air it was quiet. what i SAW, however, was 5 aeroplanes in the sky... probably circling Gattwick. remember, there are 3 or 4 different airports strung around this city: Heathrow, Gattwick and Luton (that i can remember off the top of my head). it was constant at Alex's place - in their attic room there were two skylight/windows. i'd be lying on my mattress on the floor under one of these watching the aeroplanes flying overhead, almost tracking the street, one after another after another. standing out the front of the house on the way in or out and there was a procession, one following the next, 15, maybe 30 seconds apart. look up in the sky around here and it's as likely to be a plane as a bird.
the drone of aeroplanes and the wail of sirens. the rattle of trains and the honking of taxis. standing on a street corner and hearing french, then spanish, then getting on a bus and being surrounded by germans. the loud expat aussies giving shit to the drunken irish guy while surrounded by english voices in the beer garden of a pub just off the south end of London Bridge. the sounds of seven and a half million people crammed into an area only slightly larger than Sydney. a cacophony constantly split by the oft ignored sound of this minute's emergency flying past to the flash of blue lights while miracles of engineering carrying hundreds of souls at a time soar overhead. the strangest thing is that despite all that when people ask me "so what did you think of London?" it's probably not going to come up. strange, really...
out in Beckenham has been much, much quieter. almost disconcertingly so. last night when i stuck my head out the door for some fresh air before bed (Lou's Gran keeps the heat high in here, so if i air out my room it cools down enough to be comfortable to sleep in) and all i could hear was a cat yowling off in the distance... probably being eaten by one of the urban foxes they get around here. i never see stray cats and dogs, but i've seen a few foxes. it's a little disconcerting - a reminder that i'm a long way from home.
out in the cold night air it was quiet. what i SAW, however, was 5 aeroplanes in the sky... probably circling Gattwick. remember, there are 3 or 4 different airports strung around this city: Heathrow, Gattwick and Luton (that i can remember off the top of my head). it was constant at Alex's place - in their attic room there were two skylight/windows. i'd be lying on my mattress on the floor under one of these watching the aeroplanes flying overhead, almost tracking the street, one after another after another. standing out the front of the house on the way in or out and there was a procession, one following the next, 15, maybe 30 seconds apart. look up in the sky around here and it's as likely to be a plane as a bird.
the drone of aeroplanes and the wail of sirens. the rattle of trains and the honking of taxis. standing on a street corner and hearing french, then spanish, then getting on a bus and being surrounded by germans. the loud expat aussies giving shit to the drunken irish guy while surrounded by english voices in the beer garden of a pub just off the south end of London Bridge. the sounds of seven and a half million people crammed into an area only slightly larger than Sydney. a cacophony constantly split by the oft ignored sound of this minute's emergency flying past to the flash of blue lights while miracles of engineering carrying hundreds of souls at a time soar overhead. the strangest thing is that despite all that when people ask me "so what did you think of London?" it's probably not going to come up. strange, really...
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
this post is mostly filler. like my day, really...
i said i was going to do it: i did it. today i did sweet fuck all. ok, i talked to my mum and The Boy on Skype and went for a walk and picked up some groceries and i applied for a stack of jobs and received calls from some interesting pimps and watched Hellboy 2 and Lou did comment that for a quiet day i seemed to have gotten a whole lot done, but the important aspect was that i didn't go site-seeing or running around or into Leicester Square or anything like that. i bummed around the house and i ate 2 whole sit-down meals (both of which were home-made... one of them by me!) and rested.
tomorrow's going to be busy, and the rest of this week, and this weekend and... well, so on, so i needed this day. i'm really glad i had it.
tomorrow's going to be busy, and the rest of this week, and this weekend and... well, so on, so i needed this day. i'm really glad i had it.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
most by train, the rest by rain...
quick research online indicates that the London Underground handles around three and a half million passenger journeys every weekday. most of these people seemed to be at Victoria station this evening, standing in the covered main square trying to work out where the hell they had to be to catch their trains. it had the air of a place that's usually quite ordered and sane most days, if insanely busy. today, on the other hand, it was raining - the first serious rain i've seen since we got here. an "incident" at Herne Hill had delayed the train i was to catch. most of the rest of the lines were sporting delays and in a place where even the overlands come every 10-20 minutes at peak a 15 minute delay seems to cause madness, overcrowding and delays far greater than the root of the matter would suggest.
so it was somewhat eery getting to Victoria to find this in front of me. i had no idea where i needed to be, so i joined the crowd with the Gotye remix album playing in my right ear while my left listened for announcements and my eyes scanned the boards until i found the station i was headed to, and thereby the line i needed to catch. all good and sorted, now which platfor... oh... it doesn't say. hmm. watching the minutes ticking away, and getting sick of being pushed and jostled as people's trains arrived and they dove for the gates and eventually i saw the number 3 flick up on the appropriate line and i screamed off to find it.
3.5 million passenger journeys which would indicate, with appropriate averaging, 1.75 million people using the tubes. factor in buses and overlands and you have a scarily effective public transport system that can comfortably move the population of Melbourne in a day without getting particularly upset about it. throw in the statistic that at any given time somewhere there's a blockage on a tube, or some "incident" on the overland and you realise how amazingly robust the system is.
the ride in this morning took about 20-25 minutes, after a 12 minute walk and a few more standing on the platform trying not to look like a tourist. i'd have gotten to my job agency three quarters of an hour earlier if i hadn't been walking past Buckingham Palace just in time to see the Changing of the Guard and when it happens to be going on when you're passing... well, i figured i'd be a mug not to stop and watch.
i'm making progress on my job hunt. momentum, we'll call it. i was exhausted when i got there, and by the time i left somewhere past 5:30 i just wanted to be somewhere i could take my boots off. maintaining an enthusiastic phone voice is tiring. it's worse when you're wrecked to start with. tomorrow i plan on lying around the lovely house in Beckenham reading my book, watching movies on my laptop and pretending i'm on holiday.
still, getting out i lost all sense of direction and couldn't remember the way to Trafalgar Square (i had planned on saving myself a couple of stations on the tube by walking) so i figured sod it and hopped on the tube. a change at Embankment took me to Victoria and the literally hundreds of people in the atrium which looked like it could have hosted some of the concerts i've been to. eventually i was standing on the packed overland heading south reading one of the free tabloid newspapers that are given out everywhere i look while it dawdled on at half-speed on account of the wet tracks and after fuck-knows how long i was disgorged with a couple of hundred other people out into rainy Beckenham Junction.
so i'm walking the 12 minutes back to the house getting wet and loving it. i remembered by the first corner that i was wearing a hoodie so my hat went forwards for the first time in years , the hood went up and i was another bum with a baseball cap on under a hoodie with earphones in, dressed in black, walking down a rainy London street (and before you argue my geography, i'm INSIDE the M25 and fuck you). i was chastised when i got in for not calling from the train station, but what the hell? walking in the rain with Gotye playing was actually very pleasant, especially with the hood up and brim of my cap forward keeping the rain out of my face.
so i finally got to experience London's famous rain. i'm not complaining. the funniest moment had to be thinking to myself oh, this is good... we need the rai... wait a minute! i'm so used to looking at any rain as a blessing which may, if we're lucky, fall into the dams that it was my instant thought here.
right now i'm just looking forward to my first designated rest-day in nearly 4 weeks. i'll probably wind up doing SOMETHING, but at least i'm not planning to and for the time being that's the important thing...
so it was somewhat eery getting to Victoria to find this in front of me. i had no idea where i needed to be, so i joined the crowd with the Gotye remix album playing in my right ear while my left listened for announcements and my eyes scanned the boards until i found the station i was headed to, and thereby the line i needed to catch. all good and sorted, now which platfor... oh... it doesn't say. hmm. watching the minutes ticking away, and getting sick of being pushed and jostled as people's trains arrived and they dove for the gates and eventually i saw the number 3 flick up on the appropriate line and i screamed off to find it.
3.5 million passenger journeys which would indicate, with appropriate averaging, 1.75 million people using the tubes. factor in buses and overlands and you have a scarily effective public transport system that can comfortably move the population of Melbourne in a day without getting particularly upset about it. throw in the statistic that at any given time somewhere there's a blockage on a tube, or some "incident" on the overland and you realise how amazingly robust the system is.
the ride in this morning took about 20-25 minutes, after a 12 minute walk and a few more standing on the platform trying not to look like a tourist. i'd have gotten to my job agency three quarters of an hour earlier if i hadn't been walking past Buckingham Palace just in time to see the Changing of the Guard and when it happens to be going on when you're passing... well, i figured i'd be a mug not to stop and watch.
i'm making progress on my job hunt. momentum, we'll call it. i was exhausted when i got there, and by the time i left somewhere past 5:30 i just wanted to be somewhere i could take my boots off. maintaining an enthusiastic phone voice is tiring. it's worse when you're wrecked to start with. tomorrow i plan on lying around the lovely house in Beckenham reading my book, watching movies on my laptop and pretending i'm on holiday.
still, getting out i lost all sense of direction and couldn't remember the way to Trafalgar Square (i had planned on saving myself a couple of stations on the tube by walking) so i figured sod it and hopped on the tube. a change at Embankment took me to Victoria and the literally hundreds of people in the atrium which looked like it could have hosted some of the concerts i've been to. eventually i was standing on the packed overland heading south reading one of the free tabloid newspapers that are given out everywhere i look while it dawdled on at half-speed on account of the wet tracks and after fuck-knows how long i was disgorged with a couple of hundred other people out into rainy Beckenham Junction.
so i'm walking the 12 minutes back to the house getting wet and loving it. i remembered by the first corner that i was wearing a hoodie so my hat went forwards for the first time in years , the hood went up and i was another bum with a baseball cap on under a hoodie with earphones in, dressed in black, walking down a rainy London street (and before you argue my geography, i'm INSIDE the M25 and fuck you). i was chastised when i got in for not calling from the train station, but what the hell? walking in the rain with Gotye playing was actually very pleasant, especially with the hood up and brim of my cap forward keeping the rain out of my face.
so i finally got to experience London's famous rain. i'm not complaining. the funniest moment had to be thinking to myself oh, this is good... we need the rai... wait a minute! i'm so used to looking at any rain as a blessing which may, if we're lucky, fall into the dams that it was my instant thought here.
right now i'm just looking forward to my first designated rest-day in nearly 4 weeks. i'll probably wind up doing SOMETHING, but at least i'm not planning to and for the time being that's the important thing...
Saturday, October 18, 2008
take excitement where you can...
i just got my first callback from a job application in this country. it sounds silly and trivial, i know, but after a week of running around, applying for anything under the sun that it looks like i can do without getting so bored that i'll want to kill my colleagues and learning to game the system the simple joy of firing off a CV and having someone call you 20 minutes later to confirm that you'll have time to talk on Tuesday is...
refreshing.
uplifting.
gratifying.
cause for minor celebration.
the job market here is, to put it bluntly, super-saturated and full of sharks. there are a lot of agencies who are cutting each other's throats in order to survive. in Canberra i'll deal with around a dozen different pimping agencies. here they talk about the top 100. in Canberra the agencies hold anywhere between 5 and 15% of the market. here the top performers squabble over 1-2% if they're lucky. cracking into it is hard work and without the help of the consulting company i'm dealing through i'd be getting eaten alive.
the thing is that back home i'd fire a resume off on seek.com.au with no covering letter of accompaniment - just a name, number and a CV - pull my mobile out and wait the 5-10 minutes for it to ring. simply put, my Australian CV makes pimps wet themselves and dive for the phone so that they can plead me to let them put me in for a job. here i'm a little fish begging the pimps to take notice. it's why i've been so fucking wrecked at the end of each day, getting back to base and passing out at 11 because i'm too exhausted to pick up my book.
the thing is that when i get back home, with what i'll have grown accustomed to here, i'm going to be on fire. the pimps in Canberra won't know what fucking hit them. i'm picking up job-hunting skills here which you just don't need in that market but if you think i won't use them to maximum advantage later then i've been sadly underestimated.
ok, one little callback isn't the world. i've been sent down to clients a couple of times in the last few days and it's no big thing, but i needed the ego boost and the push to my confidence. it's a little peek of the sun out from between the clouds that reminds me that coming here wasn't completely insane and i'll leverage it into a pint at the pub because... well, sometimes it's nice to celebrate the little things and keep the smile on your face even if what you're celebrating is completely trivial...
refreshing.
uplifting.
gratifying.
cause for minor celebration.
the job market here is, to put it bluntly, super-saturated and full of sharks. there are a lot of agencies who are cutting each other's throats in order to survive. in Canberra i'll deal with around a dozen different pimping agencies. here they talk about the top 100. in Canberra the agencies hold anywhere between 5 and 15% of the market. here the top performers squabble over 1-2% if they're lucky. cracking into it is hard work and without the help of the consulting company i'm dealing through i'd be getting eaten alive.
the thing is that back home i'd fire a resume off on seek.com.au with no covering letter of accompaniment - just a name, number and a CV - pull my mobile out and wait the 5-10 minutes for it to ring. simply put, my Australian CV makes pimps wet themselves and dive for the phone so that they can plead me to let them put me in for a job. here i'm a little fish begging the pimps to take notice. it's why i've been so fucking wrecked at the end of each day, getting back to base and passing out at 11 because i'm too exhausted to pick up my book.
the thing is that when i get back home, with what i'll have grown accustomed to here, i'm going to be on fire. the pimps in Canberra won't know what fucking hit them. i'm picking up job-hunting skills here which you just don't need in that market but if you think i won't use them to maximum advantage later then i've been sadly underestimated.
ok, one little callback isn't the world. i've been sent down to clients a couple of times in the last few days and it's no big thing, but i needed the ego boost and the push to my confidence. it's a little peek of the sun out from between the clouds that reminds me that coming here wasn't completely insane and i'll leverage it into a pint at the pub because... well, sometimes it's nice to celebrate the little things and keep the smile on your face even if what you're celebrating is completely trivial...
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