Sorry

Jeez louise its been so long since my last entry. I've been here over a month now and that I haven't posted photos/videos and all that stuff. What a jerk. I promise its coming. I do ask you cut me some slack as I'm trying to make some friends and I'd have nothing to write about if all I did was write my blog. I apologize for the delay and hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me -- afterall, it is the holidays.

Permanent Address

Oh happy happy day, I finally found a flat! I say 'finally' as if I had seen thousands of places in the past weeks, when in actuality I've only visited two flats and met with one other potential roommate for a 'chemistry check'. In my defense, roommate and flat hunting is hard freakin work in a city that 1. never adopted the grid system 2. is always raining and 3. NEVER ADOPTED THE GRID SYSTEM...Thats it, Americans 3, Brits 2! -- I'm over the 'charming' winding roads.

Below outlines my 3 experiences:

"Animal House"
'2 Aussies and 2 Kiwis (currently 2 guys, 2 girls) professionals looking for one other person to join our house-share, must be sociable, friendly and like having fun...'

Before I had left for London I had 2 instructions from my Aussie and Kiwi friends who previously lived in London: 1. look for a roommate/flat using a website called Gumtree and 2. do not live with a Brit as they are anal - which is something I find to be very very true. Anyway, you could imagine my excitement when I found the above ad. Not only did I see it on Gumtree and not only were there no Brits involved, but I kept thinking about how happy my two friends would be when I reported back in that I would be living with people from their respective homelands -- YESS! I emailed the group and set up a date and time to view.

It was the night of my viewing and of course it was raining. Not a pouring rain, just that kind of annoying rain where you aren't sure if its bad enough to pull out your umbrella. In fear of looking like a rain wuss I typically won't pull out my umbrella until I see about 3 other people do it first. I only saw 2 people holding them so I strolled along as if there was no rain at all. The home was located in Clapham -- exactly where I had wanted to live prior to moving here. I walked up the street to the house and everything seemed really great - All the homes on the street were well kept and it was really close to a Tube station. I was so excited as I walked up to the house, knocked on the door...and then the door opened and all my excitement went down the drain. The guy who answered looked like a sweaty dirtball and had stains all over his shirt. ew. He told me he was the one moving out so I tried to keep everything else in perspective. The first thing I noticed was the nasty blue carpeting that you would find in any college frat house. You know the kind, dirty and thin - so thin it shouldn't even be considered carpeting, just some sheer color you place over cement. We went into the living area and one of the NZers was sitting on the futon talking to another prospective renter. Futon?! Who uses a futon after college for their main source of sitting?! I thought these people said they were professionals. I later found out professional meant bartender, 'artist' (side note: if this person was responsible for any of the 'art' in the house I wish them A LOT of luck, they're going to need it) and then one odd ball - a finance consultant. Seriously, I wouldn't want this guy handling my finances after knowing how he lives.

Anyway, the guy took me upstairs to show me all the bedrooms. Everything was a mess and with every mess a great excuse -- Oh, she just got home from a 2 week trip, he's been working ungodly hours, blah blah blah. Lets get freakin real here. Its a mess because you people are slobs and are trying to recruit a fellow slob. The guy was about to show me the bathroom but I had seen just about enough and didn't need that image plastered in my mind. He was surprised I didn't want to test the shower pressure. I was confused by this as I am almost certain shower pressure would be the last thing on his mind when viewing a place as I imagine he only takes about, oh, 1 shower every 17 days or so.

I stuck around politely for him to give me the rest of the details, told him I had a few more places to check out before I made a decision and then ran the heck out of that place and never looked back.

"Jenny, Jenny who can I turn to?"
'Looking for one nice girl to share my flat in Clapham Common. Ideal for someone who is social and will want to spend time in the apartment vs. just use it as a place to keep their stuff'

I initially really wanted to live with a bunch of people, but the last place had taken a lot out of me. So much so that I now only wanted to live with one other. I wasn't overly excited about their post on Gumtree, but I thought what the hell. She sounds nice enough and its in the area I want to live so whatever. I made an appointment for 2PM.

Of course the Saturday I went to view it was pouring rain - there was no question that an umbrella was needed. The girls name was Jenny and she gave me directions to her place just before I left. She said I needed to take the tube and then a short bus ride. Since it was a short bus ride and I tend to hate buses I decided I would map the route with google and just walk it.

I was definitely the only person in London that decided a nice walk through torrential rain would be a good idea. Not only was the rain worse in Clapham (I've come to learn that each neighborhood has very different weather patterns), but I couldn't find the correct street to even begin my journey down. See, in normal cities there are street signs located at the same spot on the corner of every single road making it easy to identify what street you maybe walking down. Surprise, surprise, this is not the case in London. You see, street signs are located on the corner of buildings -- but not necessary in the same spot. So you have to search for them every time you encounter a new street or block. This leads me to the thing I hate most about London - the non-existant Grid system.

There are 2 terrible things that happen as a result of not having a grid system:
1. Its impossible for a new person to get to know the city well
2. Long time residents of London won't know their own neighborhoods well - let alone their city - making it impossible to help the newcomers.

Seriously people that have been living in this city for years can't even tell you where certain streets are that may be located in their very neighborhoods. They could even be a block away and they would have no idea at all. The thing that drives me crazy is that they don't even care.

Okay so anyway I find the street, call Jenny and let her know I'd be about 15 minutes late and then begin my journey. Of course along the way I got lost. What is frustrating is I had been consulting my 'London A-Z' (side note: the Z is pronounced 'Zed' here) which is essentially a novel of maps detailing every road in London, but it did not help at all. I asked a couple people for help but of course they had no idea what roads I could even be referring to. Never heard of them. At this point it was 2:30P and still raining. I didn't want to give up on seeing this place, but I figured it was best to just cut my losses and go home. I called her to give my regrets and told her I was a big loser for being unable find my way around the city and she was probably better off with out me. Okay, I didn't say all that, but I did tell her I was a big loser for getting lost. Luckily, she disagreed and asked where I was located at the very moment. I was thinking 'yeah right, you probably have never even heard of the street I'm on let alone know how to get me to your place'. It took me a good minute to identify the intersection, but by-golly, she knew EXACTLY where I was. YESSSS! At that point I wasn't too far -- just a short bus ride. This time I heeded her advice, took the bus and got to her place. She was even waiting outside for me so I'd know exactly where it was. YESS!

We walked up the stairs to her apartment and she showed me around. Everything was great but the room was VERY VERY small...and she was british and my instructions were to NOT live with a Brit. However, the place had everything else a girl could want: washer/dryer in unit, nice sized living room, large bathroom and, most importantly, a Wii!! Jenny seemed really nice too. It seemed all the stars were aligned and i really just wanted to sign on right there...but I had scheduled a "chemistry check" with a German chick for the next day and didn't want to put all my eggs in this basket. I knew no one else was viewing the place until Monday so I asked if I could have a day to think it over. She was cool with it. Maybe Brits aren't so anal after all.

"Das ist nicht mein Fall"
Anyone that has moved to a new city will tell you that before they left they were armed with a laundry list of random contacts that were given to them by people from home. The list will typically include close friends, co-workers, random contacts met while traveling, the college roommate of their brother-in-law's best friend, etc. In any event, you introduce yourself to these people via email and see what happens from there. One of the more friendly and helpful people I emailed actually put me in contact with another girl that was in my situation. She was moving to London from Berlin and needed a roommate. The German and I emailed back and forth and even hopped on a call to see if we were 'compatible'. Everything sounded pretty good -- in the same price range for a flat, sociable and work in a similar industries. Since the call went so well we decided we should meet.

We met in Piccadilly Circus in front of the Boots (think CVS/Walgreens) that was located under the 'big, famous advertisement' (think Times Square) as the German described. In order to identify each other we described ourselves and said what we would be wearing. She has long blond hair, thick framed square glasses (think Palin/Fey) and a coat with a Berlin badge on the side -- which made me a little uneasy for some reason. I mean, as much as I love Elgin and Chicago I would never wear a badge on my coat referencing them. Well, now that I think about it I probably would for Elgin - Anyway, I told her I was going to wear a black Northface coat and had short brown hair...like pretty much every other American tourist running around Piccadilly Circus...only I was no tourist...booyah.

The conversation was going well and we decided to grab food at a bar. She asked what I was going to order and I told her I was between the roast & fish and chips. "Oh. I hear fish and chips is good but not very lady like." Not very lady like?! Every other freakin girl in the place was ordering fish and chips. Now, if I was at a dinner at the Royal Palace I would agree with her, but we were at some small pub in the middle of London -- who freakin cares?! So ask her what she was thinking of ordering. ' I will try Salad or soup'. Figures. At this point was certain I would not live with her. Even though I had decided this I know I won't break the news until the following day and kept the 'interview' process going. We get through all the minor details and then she decides to throw in a doozie -- she's married. Hmm...that's convenient. Its funny how it never occurred to her that it may be important to indicate something like this during one of the email exchanges or phone call. Apparently her husband was bound to a contract in Berlin for the next year or so and they would be community back and forth. Wow, that seems like a really ideal situation your potential 26 year old, single American roommate. Oh wait, it doesn't.

"Yay!"
So you can guess by now that I will be living with the lovely Jenny in Clapham. We met for dinner in Chinatown last night and she is great. I move in on 23/11 (think 11/23) and the date couldn't come soon enough!

I know I promised to talk about work differences this week but I thought the roommate business would be a little more important. Unless some other pivotal experience happens in the mean time you can count on that. Unless some other pivotal experience happens in the mean time you can count on that.

Heavens to Betsy!

Ok seriously, I was just minding my own business watching TV tonight and what to I see on public television? A vagina. That's right, a vagina. 

Parents reading this to their children you may want to stop now. 

The thing is, I didn't just see A vagina, there were like 3 or 4 shown in a 30 second period. You could imagine my surprise given the fact I was watching a network that we could compare to say, oh, NBC, CBS...dare I say ABC?! Actually now that I think about it this channel is probably the equivalent to FOX. Anyway, I should have know this would happen. Just the other night I was watching a rerun of Sex and the City and instead of editing the sex scenes they just show Kim Cattrall's boobs. Dang! 

Turns out the vagina show I ended up watching (come on, like you wouldn't) is called "How to Look Good Naked." Not only is it on public television at 8P  and not only to they show naked woman but they show...get this... half naked men - apparently showing a penis is still taboo for these 'progressive' Europeans. I give'em 3 more years before that is all over the TV too. The show basically takes people that have some sort of 'issue' with their bodies as a result of cancer, low self-esteem, etc. and put them through a series of exercises that end up making them more comfortable with their bodies and thereby inflate their self-esteem. Some times to the point where you think, 'shut up, you don't look that good.'

So after my initial shock and watching the rest of the show i realized its not that big of a deal. Who cares if you see a naked body on public television at 8P? Its not like we all don't know what's hiding under all those clothes. I actually hope this show comes to the US. Well, wait. I take that back. Baby steps. There's still a wealth of people who frequent our glorious water and theme parks that need to learn how to wear jean shorts, baby-t's and swim suits before they learn how to look good naked. 

Fortnight

Yesterday marked my second full week in London -- thats a whole fortnight! The highlight of my anniversary was chasing after a bus in the wind and rain with a fellow 'Yank' who was appropriately dressed as a bumble bee and I a birthday cake. Confused? I'm sure you are. After all Halloween was a week ago! 

When I arrive I was extremely disappointed to find out that no one really gets all that excited about Halloween. Sure they celebrate it to some capacity, but not to the extent that Americans do. However, this Friday I found out the reason and it is called 'Fancy Dress'. Londoners will dress up like its Halloween any weekend out of the year. They call these events 'Fancy Dress' parties and they are amazing. I was invited to my first on Friday, but it took me a second to understand exactly what it was. "So wait, you don't wear fancy dresses? You dress in costume...like as a cat or something,  right?" Right. My next Fancy Dress is in two weeks and the theme is Monopoly. YESSSSS! (Americans 2, Brits 2 - They get a point for FD). 

If I put it all down on paper it wouldn't seem like I've done a whole lot here in my first two weeks. I haven't seen the palace up close, haven't gone on the London Eye, haven't taken a tour or even tried to make the guards smile. However its during all those small, 'normal-life' activities that you learn most. 

Take the Tube for instance. Everyone is ferociously reading the various papers and tabloids every morning. No one even looks at each other or talks. I don't even think they notice other people are on board. They just read. Now, in Chicago people do read on the El, but not to the extent that every single person's nose is in a paper. However, there are some people that don't read, but if someone is not reading, chances are they are making-out with another Tube rider. Londoners make-out in public like its their freakin job and I've found that their favorite spot is the Tube. Get a room!

On another occasion I spent 15 whole minutes at the grocery store trying to find eggs. I must have walked down every aisle 9 times before I found a lady that looked willing to help me out. She pointed me to the back of the store but there was no refrigerated aisle so I figured she misunderstood my question and turned in the opposite direction to walk away. She saw me turn away from the direction she pointed me towards and began to lead me there herself. The eggs were on a shelf...right next to boxed cereal. Ew.

Also, none of the bars (that I have found so far) have barstools next to the actual bar to sit on. Everyone sits at tables. Its weird. I went out one night searching for a bar that would have barstools. I even asked one of the doormen where I could find them. He didn't know what I was talking about. I said, "You know, like in the TV show, 'Cheers'. Norm and the gang sat at the bar every day after work...on a barstool". He laughed and told me most bars don't have them here. How the heck are people who just moved here supposed to make friends at a bar if they can't just sit next to someone on a barstool and talk like we do in America?! Oh well, I suppose I shouldn't be making friends at bars anyway. Side note, I was in Piccadilly Circus today and saw a bar called Cheers, named after the show. I looked inside...all tables. 

The above are just some of the things I've noticed and learned so far in my first fortnight. There are more and I'll take more time to write them down throughout my post moving forward. I'll also be writing about the differences at work this week so stay tuned. My photos will be up soon as well but It takes about a half hour to load with this site so I may need to post them on another. Drag. In any case I'll keep you updated!

This Is OUR Victory

So I've been terrible about this whole blogging thing. I mean I haven't even detailed my life in London beyond the exit from the cab, which is pretty pathetic. I suppose in my mind my experiences here have paled in comparison to what is going on back at home...

'If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible...tonight is your answer.'

To say I will never forget the event that took place last night is an extreme understatement. I didn't sleep, COULDN'T sleep, until I knew he had won - and that didn't happen until 5A. Even though I knew it was in the bag, even as they began to paint Pennsylvania, Virginia, Ohio & Florida blue and even though I had to deliver a presentation to a room full of my new clients for the very first time at 9A, I had to see it and experience it. I was overcome with jealousy of everyone celebrating back in Chicago however, in the company of the BBC and anyone I could track down on Skype, I know I felt the exact same relief, hope and rejuvenation in those same hours and at that historic moment.

Pride was written all over me today but, oddly enough, it seemed to be written all over everyone else in London - evidence 'our' victory isn't one for just America but for the world as well. If it wasn't clear in the opening of this post, I've had some moments of sadness, jealousy and doubt since my arrival as I had felt I would ultimately be missing out on what others were living back at home. However, I've realized I'm not missing out and the angle which I'm seeing and living these events is just as inspiring for me as is for any other person in the states.

'So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look not only after ourselves but for each other.' 

I love that quote and aim to live it here, there and everywhere I go.

Okay so now I'm going to cut the crap and get back to my life here in London. After all, this blog is about ME and NOT my boy Barack. Starting November 6 there will be a recap of the events that occurred from October 25-November 4. Hell, maybe there'll be a picture or two. From that point on I hope to have some thoughts up at least every day no matter the length. Seriously, it might just be a sentence. Or word. Or score...which reminds me - Americans 2, Brits 1 - Although I said Barack's win is a victory for all, America freakin produced him. Booyah.

 

Up, Up and Away...

Ah my very first post! How exciting. 

Okay so as most of you know I made it to jolly ol' England safe and sound -- but there was nothing very jolly about my experience. Well, I take that back. The first half was great, the second...not so much. 

My parents dropped me off at the Virgin gate at O'Hare with ALL my luggage and for the first time ever there was NO line at the check in. How lucky could I be?! Even the Brit standing behind me laughed and made a comment about the non-existent 'queue'. Note: he was standing behind me thus a 'queue' had actually been formed. Americans 1, Brits 0. 

What was not so great about the short queue is that all the clerks were arguing with the people they were helping which could only mean one thing -- my flight was canceled. Fortunately the lady was able to book me on another flight leaving and arriving at the same time. Unfortunately my premium economy status, which came complete with free champagne and little more leg-room, was gone. To standard economy I went. 

I know what you're thinking, "oh , boo hoo. You're moving to London so quit whining." I guess you're right - but I was really looking forward to that champagne!

I made my way the next ticket operator so I could check my bags in on the new airline I was flying. I made friends with the guy so he booked me in a seat that would have an empty seat next to it. Lovely! He was Polish so of course I told him I really love pierogies -- only to find out that they actually don't make those in Poland and its an American thing. Then I told him I really love Polish Sausage and he about took my seat away. You mean to tell me that's not an actual Polish dish?! Polish 1, Americans 0. (Oh and yes, I'm fully aware that this paragraph and several others are filled with "that's what she said's"). 

I made my way through security and then to the gate and sat there for a couple minutes and then began to call everyone I could. I held off on crying for a while and then out of nowhere I realized the gravity of the situation. It was going to be a VERY  long time until I physically see all these people again and could call on them at all hours of my day. So I started to cry -- but it was VERY minimal. Like maybe 5 little tear streams. I mean, I really doubt anyone even saw me. Really. 

Okay fine. I'm sure only like 5 people saw me and out of a gate seating 100, that's not too bad. In fact, its only like 5%...which is less than the US unemployment rate.  

Around 5:45P I boarded the flight and was seated near a woman named Lynette. She was really nice and we chatted for about 5 minutes. She wanted to chat longer but I had something very important I had to do and she was getting in my way. My friend Colleen had organized for all my close friends to help her build a book for my trip. Each person was responsible for 2 pages: one giving me advice for my new life and another that detailed things they'd miss about me. She gave it to me before I left and told me I couldn't read it until I was on the plane. Everyone told me I was going to cry when I read it, but I didn't. I mostly just laughed...really really hard. Well, except when I read what my parents wrote...thanks mom & dad, that was nice. 

I read through it about 16 times and then watched some movies and tried to sleep. I was really uncomfortable and couldn't sleep at all. All I could think about was if I had had 6 glasses of free champagne I would have been knocked out in no time. Gah!

Finally we began landing and it was just as the sun was rising. Very pretty. I got my stuff and headed for the baggage claim. Unfortunately I did not read any of the 100 signs along the way that instructed me to fill out a slip of paper for customs (how American of me) and got in trouble with the customs officer. Brits 1, Americans 1.

I filled out my slip and headed for my baggage. I thought for sure it would take about an hour to collect, but it was all sitting there waiting for me when I arrived. Splendid! 

Now it was time for me to meet my driver who was to be waiting for me at the arrivals hall with a sign that said "Lichtenberg". This was something I had looked forward to ALL WEEK LONG. I mean seriously. I even had plans to take a picture of the guy holding the sign and make it my Facebook profile shot...I mean that's pretty big. Well I walked through the gate with a big ass smile on my face only to find a bunch of drivers holding up signs with last names like 'Chanel', 'Norris', 'a;lksjdfoa' (my attempt at the middle-eastern last name), 

Hannah", but no 'LICHTENBERG'. WTF?!

Surely they were just running late. I mean, I had sent in all my flight information beforehand and had confirmed with the service I would be there. I pulled my phone out to call and low and behold I had no service. Thanks a lot, AT&T. You've really been wonderful in the vast amount of situations where I desperately need to get a hold of someone - your lack of service at the AT&T sponsored stage at Lollapalooza was also a gem. keep up the good work. jerks.

Okay, back to my situation. So luckily there were plenty of pay-phones around so I got my cash converted and called the car company. Funny thing was, they had no record of me. The only thing is that it was not funny at all. In fact it pissed me off. They told me I had to take a cab. JERKS!

I grabbed my stuff and walked outside and got a driver. I was still being pissy so I told him he had 2 jobs to do: 1. take me to Princes Square, 2. Cheer me up. He did both and I arrived in Princes Square safely - to the tune of $120 (65 pounds...I can expense that, right?). 

All right well that wraps up my first post. Thanks to those who finished. And a special shout-out to Bernie for proof-reading! My next will pick up on details about my apartment and first week on the job. Stay Tuned...