Just to let you know, I doubt I'll be able to update for the next week or so because there'll be a lot happening...because I'll be on spring break!!
It's times like these I wish they had smiley faces to insert.
But at any rate, I'll be heading out to Italy and France for about 10 days. Luke, Mary and I will be flying to Venice (our flight is at 6:40 a.m...gross), then taking a train to Florence and then taking a train to Rome. From there, our paths diverge. Luke is coming back to London to meet up with his family, Mary is going to Barcelona with some friends of hers and I will be flying into Paris to meet up with Laura, Norah, Josh and some of their friends because Callie is coming over!! After that, then it's back to London for a while before the next travel excursion.
That's about it; just thought you might like to know what I'm doing/why I'm not updating this thing that I tend to write in fairly frequently. And if you could be nice and send some good thoughts and prayers for safe flights for everyone on spring break, that'd be gee golly swell.
Oh yeah, and this blurb is for my mom. Mom, you know how you've cut my hair since the age of six? Well, today, 13 years of homestyle haircuts came to an end. I got my hair cut here!! It was weird and mildly awkward because I didn't know what to do when he was wetting my hair down in the sink. I'm not a huge fan of how it turned out because it makes me look like I'm going to lose my hair by the age of 30...not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's just not for me. So ANYwho, I got my haircut. And I'm going to Italy and Paris. Yeah. Awesome.
And now's the point where I should really start packing. Hastan luego!!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Un Viaje to España!
*Two warnings before you read this: a lot happened this weekend, so many blocks of writing will be below. Also, this entry may dissolve into mushiness at some point. Read at your own risk.*
Since my last entry, life has been relatively...how shall I put it...amazing. Thursday found me at my usual place on Thursdays, which was my internship. Thanks to everyone being sick in the world, I managed to catch a small cold that manifested itself in the form of a cough, runny/stuffed nose and general tiredness. Therefore, while working while on some drugs (mostly DayQuil, God's greatest gift in an orange capsule) I managed to down an entire 2 litre bottle of water in 12 hours...twice, so I also peed a lot. Thanks to my mom's careful medical teachings, I knew that this would clear out my system. Nick also informed me that my writing is actually being published in multiple publications, including the NASN website, The American Hour and American in Britain, a magazine marketed toward the titled audience. It isn't glamorous, but it is completely worth it! After work, I took the tube back to the flat, where we booked our flights and trains to Venice, Florence, Rome and Paris for spring break. Yeah yeah.
However, it was Friday that got the adrenaline going. I left for Heathrow around 9:15 and flew out of the airport around 11:15 a.m. en route to Madrid and eventually to Sevilla, Spain!! After a four and a half hour layover in the crazy Madrid airport, it was off on another Iberia flight to Sevilla. I landed around 9:40 p.m. and made my way to the terminal, where Norah and Laura were waiting for me. When I walked through the entrada (entrance) to the gate, there was Laura, waving her arms and standing on her tiptoes to tell me where she was. And then there was Norah, who squeaked (allowing me to locate her) and immediately started jumping up and down in the midst of the crowd. It was the best airport greeting anyone could ask for. So after we had a classic movie slow-motion run toward each other and embraced in the midst of a Spanish mob of people, we took the airport bus to el centro (the center) of the city, where we walked along the Guadalquivir, the river that runs through the city, and wandered around for an hour and a half until we found the hostel I was staying at. After that, we went out for some tapas, which are small snack-sized meal portions, at a bar and then met up with Eric at a bar, where I tried tequila. Not as bad as some people make it out to be, actually. After that, Norah and I wandered around the city, talking and walking and doing some sightseeing until about 3 or so.
The next morning, I got up around 7 a.m. and made it (after two phone calls and getting lost near la biblioteca publica) to a street corner near the developing metro station, where I met Norah and a group of her friends and we took a bus to the Santa Justa train station to catch the train for Córdoba, a city about an hour and a half northeast of Sevilla. Once we got there, we stopped at a café for some café (which is so much better there than anywhere else) and then began to make our way around the city. At first it was raining, but then it stopped. Almost the entire day, we were scheduled to have rain, but it stopped within 15 minutes of us arriving anywhere. But yeha, we stopped at a house with a bunch of really nice gardens around it and then walked around for a bit until we came to La Sinogoga, Córdoba's oldest Jewish house of worshipfulness. We stopped briefly for lunch and then walked for another hour or so before going inside of la Mezquita Catedral, a 12th century cathedral that became a mosque and then a cathedral again. It's notable for two things: its famous red and white striped arches and its size, as it's the world's 3rd largest cathedral. Norah kept calling it the mosquito. Oh Norah, you're so typical, haha. Ella es muy gracioso.
After meandering our way around the beautiful edificio de Dios and having Janette inadvertantly make us laugh in the presence of an eerily realistic crucifix, we went into the Alcazar de los Reyes (Castle of the Kings), which has some of the most amazing gardens that I've ever seen. There were paths everywhere and fuentes (fountains) abundant in numbers, by which more than one cute picture was taken. One of the best parts was getting to walk up to the battlements on top of the Alcazar itself and look out over the city of Córdoba itself, as well as the jardines. The girls I was with said that the Alcazar in Sevilla was better, but it's hard for me to see that. Guess I'll have to find out at some point. And don't worry; I'll link in a photo album at the end of the entry.
It was starting to get dark at that point, so we started back toward the train station and walked along the Guadalquivir for a bit, which was practically non-existent in that city. Along the riverbank, we saw a couple sitting on a bench engaged in some openly public displays of their affection. Janette informed me that PDA is pretty prevalent in Spain. Ver nice. After taking the train back to Sevilla, we went out to an Indian restaurant for dinner and walked around for a bit longer before Norah and I split off to meet Eric and Melanie. Sadly at this point, our luck with the rain didn't hold up and we were stuck walking in the pouring rain until 2 a.m.
Bright and early at 7 the next morning, Norah met up with me to take a quick walk around the Parque de Maria Luisa and the Plaza de España before taking the bus to the airport. We were both exhausted and just ended up sitting on the steps to the plaza for a half hour in near silence, soaking up each others' company and talking about the currency of the European Union. Desafortunadamente, the Sevilla Marathon started almost immediately after my flight left, so I didn't get a chance to see the 3,000 runners straining and goading themselves toward the finish line. However, I did get to see Norah and Laura and Eric and meet some new people, as well as see my first Spanish city.
Spain really is a great country with an incredible amount of history, almost enough to rival London. But more importantly, you can exchange your pounds for Euros there and get MORE money, something I'm not used to. That and they serve cerveza in the McDonald's at the aeropuertos, which is a little odd, but it's Spain. That's why I went there, as well as why Norah and Laura are there: it's weird. And awesome. Like me. And both of them.
And as promised, here are the two albums of pictures from Sevilla, selected from the 260 pictures originally taken:
¡Vamos a Sevilla!
¡Vamos a Sevilla: Parte Dos!
Now it's time for Seth to go to bed because he deserves to sleep in after not sleeping very well for the past 4 days. Huzzah! Hastan luego, huevos!
Since my last entry, life has been relatively...how shall I put it...amazing. Thursday found me at my usual place on Thursdays, which was my internship. Thanks to everyone being sick in the world, I managed to catch a small cold that manifested itself in the form of a cough, runny/stuffed nose and general tiredness. Therefore, while working while on some drugs (mostly DayQuil, God's greatest gift in an orange capsule) I managed to down an entire 2 litre bottle of water in 12 hours...twice, so I also peed a lot. Thanks to my mom's careful medical teachings, I knew that this would clear out my system. Nick also informed me that my writing is actually being published in multiple publications, including the NASN website, The American Hour and American in Britain, a magazine marketed toward the titled audience. It isn't glamorous, but it is completely worth it! After work, I took the tube back to the flat, where we booked our flights and trains to Venice, Florence, Rome and Paris for spring break. Yeah yeah.
However, it was Friday that got the adrenaline going. I left for Heathrow around 9:15 and flew out of the airport around 11:15 a.m. en route to Madrid and eventually to Sevilla, Spain!! After a four and a half hour layover in the crazy Madrid airport, it was off on another Iberia flight to Sevilla. I landed around 9:40 p.m. and made my way to the terminal, where Norah and Laura were waiting for me. When I walked through the entrada (entrance) to the gate, there was Laura, waving her arms and standing on her tiptoes to tell me where she was. And then there was Norah, who squeaked (allowing me to locate her) and immediately started jumping up and down in the midst of the crowd. It was the best airport greeting anyone could ask for. So after we had a classic movie slow-motion run toward each other and embraced in the midst of a Spanish mob of people, we took the airport bus to el centro (the center) of the city, where we walked along the Guadalquivir, the river that runs through the city, and wandered around for an hour and a half until we found the hostel I was staying at. After that, we went out for some tapas, which are small snack-sized meal portions, at a bar and then met up with Eric at a bar, where I tried tequila. Not as bad as some people make it out to be, actually. After that, Norah and I wandered around the city, talking and walking and doing some sightseeing until about 3 or so.
The next morning, I got up around 7 a.m. and made it (after two phone calls and getting lost near la biblioteca publica) to a street corner near the developing metro station, where I met Norah and a group of her friends and we took a bus to the Santa Justa train station to catch the train for Córdoba, a city about an hour and a half northeast of Sevilla. Once we got there, we stopped at a café for some café (which is so much better there than anywhere else) and then began to make our way around the city. At first it was raining, but then it stopped. Almost the entire day, we were scheduled to have rain, but it stopped within 15 minutes of us arriving anywhere. But yeha, we stopped at a house with a bunch of really nice gardens around it and then walked around for a bit until we came to La Sinogoga, Córdoba's oldest Jewish house of worshipfulness. We stopped briefly for lunch and then walked for another hour or so before going inside of la Mezquita Catedral, a 12th century cathedral that became a mosque and then a cathedral again. It's notable for two things: its famous red and white striped arches and its size, as it's the world's 3rd largest cathedral. Norah kept calling it the mosquito. Oh Norah, you're so typical, haha. Ella es muy gracioso.
After meandering our way around the beautiful edificio de Dios and having Janette inadvertantly make us laugh in the presence of an eerily realistic crucifix, we went into the Alcazar de los Reyes (Castle of the Kings), which has some of the most amazing gardens that I've ever seen. There were paths everywhere and fuentes (fountains) abundant in numbers, by which more than one cute picture was taken. One of the best parts was getting to walk up to the battlements on top of the Alcazar itself and look out over the city of Córdoba itself, as well as the jardines. The girls I was with said that the Alcazar in Sevilla was better, but it's hard for me to see that. Guess I'll have to find out at some point. And don't worry; I'll link in a photo album at the end of the entry.
It was starting to get dark at that point, so we started back toward the train station and walked along the Guadalquivir for a bit, which was practically non-existent in that city. Along the riverbank, we saw a couple sitting on a bench engaged in some openly public displays of their affection. Janette informed me that PDA is pretty prevalent in Spain. Ver nice. After taking the train back to Sevilla, we went out to an Indian restaurant for dinner and walked around for a bit longer before Norah and I split off to meet Eric and Melanie. Sadly at this point, our luck with the rain didn't hold up and we were stuck walking in the pouring rain until 2 a.m.
Bright and early at 7 the next morning, Norah met up with me to take a quick walk around the Parque de Maria Luisa and the Plaza de España before taking the bus to the airport. We were both exhausted and just ended up sitting on the steps to the plaza for a half hour in near silence, soaking up each others' company and talking about the currency of the European Union. Desafortunadamente, the Sevilla Marathon started almost immediately after my flight left, so I didn't get a chance to see the 3,000 runners straining and goading themselves toward the finish line. However, I did get to see Norah and Laura and Eric and meet some new people, as well as see my first Spanish city.
Spain really is a great country with an incredible amount of history, almost enough to rival London. But more importantly, you can exchange your pounds for Euros there and get MORE money, something I'm not used to. That and they serve cerveza in the McDonald's at the aeropuertos, which is a little odd, but it's Spain. That's why I went there, as well as why Norah and Laura are there: it's weird. And awesome. Like me. And both of them.
And as promised, here are the two albums of pictures from Sevilla, selected from the 260 pictures originally taken:
¡Vamos a Sevilla!
¡Vamos a Sevilla: Parte Dos!
Now it's time for Seth to go to bed because he deserves to sleep in after not sleeping very well for the past 4 days. Huzzah! Hastan luego, huevos!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
A Real Entry
Since there hasn't exactly been an updated real entry other than the random and sporadic posts that I've put up the past couple of times I've been on, I thought it might be nice to write about things that are actually going on in London.
Right now, I'm sitting in the flat in my bed after finishing a nice cup of tea with my breakfast. Wednesdays are my lazier days, since I get to sleep in past 8:15. Class doesn't start until 2:00 for me today, so I've got a little while to sit down and catch my breath before starting another great day of running around the city (literally) and discussing another play. I'm only taking two classroom classes this semester. The first, European Mass Media, meets on Mondays at 10:30 for 2 hours and 45 minutes. Bevin Jones, the professor, is a classically ridiculous British man from the top of his balding white-haired head rimmed with round glasses down to the bottoms of his corduroy trousers. He laughs quite a bit at his own jokes, but is deceptively knowledgable about European history, especially Belgium. I have learned a lot about European history and European communincation systems there and will soon be writing a paper on how to create an effective communications system in a remote mountain region that has 17 dialects of a language. Yay. The second class is Drama and the London Theatre and is probably my favourite class of the two I'm taking. Dr. Jinnie Schiele teaches the class on Wednesdays at 2:00 for 2 1/2 hours and is AWESOME. My favourite part of class is when she does attendance in the morning. When she calls your name, it's like mixing a warm summer breeze with chocolate syrup. I swear I got chills the first time I heard her! We talk about various plays we go to see (the class goes to see one per week at different theatres around London) and discuss characters, aesthetics, lines, themes, etc.
On Monday, we went to see Speed The Plow, a dramedy starring Kevin Spacey and Jeff Goldblum. Although it was hard at first to get Jeff out of my mind as a character from Jurassic Park, he eventually convinced me of his role and ended up putting on (with Kevin's help) one of the best performances I've seen here to date. Afterward, we all sprinted to the stage door and managed to catch glimpses of both of them. Aaaaand...I got the autograph of KEVIN SPACEY. YEAH.
As for the internship, it's constantly in flux. I've grown to feel like more of an employee there now that my time there has exceeded a month, but there are still moments where I wish that I was a little more involved. Maybe that's just the Park Scholar in me speaking, but the work varies from typing up shipping orders to writing articles for the quarterly newsletter. I work with another intern, Dan, who is from UMass and loves everything Boston-related, as well as with several full-time employees. Since ESPN Classic works in tandem with our company, we have a lot of overlap with people from that company. Jamie, Danieli (a guy), Lisa, Cecile and Klara all work for Classic, but we talk a lot and eat lunch with each other. There's a great vibe there and a lack of overbearing intensity in the workplace that can only be explained as European, I guess.
We all just finished putting together the quarterly newsletter for NASN (North American Sports Network, recently bought by ESPN) and ESPN Classic, so there just might be something published online that you can take a look at, proving that we actually work here; we don't just go to clubs, pubs and run through parks all day. That's about it for now. I'm heading down to Sevilla this weekend to visit Norah (it takes a lot of self-control not to follow that up with a bunch of exclamation points), so there will be some updating about that once I get back. For now, I'm going to go and shower and shave because my face is really really scruffy. Nice.
Right now, I'm sitting in the flat in my bed after finishing a nice cup of tea with my breakfast. Wednesdays are my lazier days, since I get to sleep in past 8:15. Class doesn't start until 2:00 for me today, so I've got a little while to sit down and catch my breath before starting another great day of running around the city (literally) and discussing another play. I'm only taking two classroom classes this semester. The first, European Mass Media, meets on Mondays at 10:30 for 2 hours and 45 minutes. Bevin Jones, the professor, is a classically ridiculous British man from the top of his balding white-haired head rimmed with round glasses down to the bottoms of his corduroy trousers. He laughs quite a bit at his own jokes, but is deceptively knowledgable about European history, especially Belgium. I have learned a lot about European history and European communincation systems there and will soon be writing a paper on how to create an effective communications system in a remote mountain region that has 17 dialects of a language. Yay. The second class is Drama and the London Theatre and is probably my favourite class of the two I'm taking. Dr. Jinnie Schiele teaches the class on Wednesdays at 2:00 for 2 1/2 hours and is AWESOME. My favourite part of class is when she does attendance in the morning. When she calls your name, it's like mixing a warm summer breeze with chocolate syrup. I swear I got chills the first time I heard her! We talk about various plays we go to see (the class goes to see one per week at different theatres around London) and discuss characters, aesthetics, lines, themes, etc.
On Monday, we went to see Speed The Plow, a dramedy starring Kevin Spacey and Jeff Goldblum. Although it was hard at first to get Jeff out of my mind as a character from Jurassic Park, he eventually convinced me of his role and ended up putting on (with Kevin's help) one of the best performances I've seen here to date. Afterward, we all sprinted to the stage door and managed to catch glimpses of both of them. Aaaaand...I got the autograph of KEVIN SPACEY. YEAH.
As for the internship, it's constantly in flux. I've grown to feel like more of an employee there now that my time there has exceeded a month, but there are still moments where I wish that I was a little more involved. Maybe that's just the Park Scholar in me speaking, but the work varies from typing up shipping orders to writing articles for the quarterly newsletter. I work with another intern, Dan, who is from UMass and loves everything Boston-related, as well as with several full-time employees. Since ESPN Classic works in tandem with our company, we have a lot of overlap with people from that company. Jamie, Danieli (a guy), Lisa, Cecile and Klara all work for Classic, but we talk a lot and eat lunch with each other. There's a great vibe there and a lack of overbearing intensity in the workplace that can only be explained as European, I guess.
We all just finished putting together the quarterly newsletter for NASN (North American Sports Network, recently bought by ESPN) and ESPN Classic, so there just might be something published online that you can take a look at, proving that we actually work here; we don't just go to clubs, pubs and run through parks all day. That's about it for now. I'm heading down to Sevilla this weekend to visit Norah (it takes a lot of self-control not to follow that up with a bunch of exclamation points), so there will be some updating about that once I get back. For now, I'm going to go and shower and shave because my face is really really scruffy. Nice.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Why the World Hates the French
When you're in the United States, you are in your own little bubble. We don't really think that much about what's beyond our own borders. Occasionally you stop to think that there is something beyond your massive continent besides Canada, farmland and Hollywood. The realization begins to come (at least for me) toward the end of high school when you're sitting in health class and the subject of obesity comes up and the teacher makes you watch Supersize Me. 
During that class, we saw clips of people who were in various European countries claiming that McDonald's was created in their nation for their people. We all had heard that McDonald's was a global phenomenon, but no one really believed it until then.
This introduced to me the concept of global animosity. Like many sports teams (Red Sox and Yankees) and politicians (Hillary vs. the world), there are rivalries that exist between nations. Some do it purely to assert their superiority complexes and make those in power feel better about themselves, while others just want to make large nuclear bombs and nuke the crap out of other countries. As far as we know, that means Palestine and Israel are rivals, as are North Korea and South Korea, but only according to media reports. The last 2 sets of countries are all about the kaboom,
but the other ones who simply want to slander each other for the heck of it. Maybe it dates back to Ye Olde Prehistoric times, I don't know. Either way, these competitions exist.
And as time went on, I noticed that most countries didn't like the French. Freedom fries were served instead of French fries and the castle guards in Spamalot have ridiculously snobby accents, as if we could barely tolerate their existence. France was the Richie Rich who wasn't willing to share his theme park with anyone, in short, but this always mystified me. I hope someone is following the thought process here.
Fast forward to the second semester of my sophomore year of college, where I am studying abroad in London. My internship at ESPN is going very well and I'm meeting all sorts of people who work to represent different countries like Belgium, Norway and Italy. In addition, most of my co-workers are from other countries. My supervisor, Nick, is from Italy, as is Danieli, while Klara is from Germany. There is also another woman who sits diagonally across from me, whose name is Cecile. She's a nice woman in her late twenties who works in the marketing department for ESPN Classic. The first time we met was in the Café Disney (aka the cafeteria) at lunch, where we introduced ourselves. Cecile is a really nice name and usually only takes 2 tries, depending on how thick the accent is of the Cecile you're talking to. This one happened to be born in some place in the Caribbean where French is the major language, which means, her French-Caribbean accent made her as easy to understand as a spectacular pun that I am currently lacking.
So yesterday, I was sitting at my workstation, writing like mad to finish the quarterly newsletter that I had been assigned, when Cecile asked me something about the box of chocolates on my desk. The question was, "So...who is she?" Turns out the chocolates were from my mom, which made it a little awkward since she was obviously interested in finding out what kind of hot girl I'm dating. But she then asks me what my name is, since she had forgotten what I had said a week or so ago. I simply told her Seth. "Zeth," she replied, "Is that it?"
"No, it's Seth."
".......Zeth."
"No, Seth. Sssssseth." There was a long pause, a dramatic one even.
"Zeth?"
Her voice was garbled and throaty, as if she was trying to constantly advertise for a Listerine commerical. The 's' was just not going to work. In the end, she asked me my middle name (Thomas) and has decided to call me Tom or Thomas instead. It was either that, endure 3 more months of Zethiness or be referred to as Mr. Palmer. But she will not be calling me Tommy. That name has been ruined thanks to some jerk who dated one of my friends back in high school.
So if you're wondering why the world hates the French, just find one and ask them to pronounce your name. Chances are they won't be able to be able to do it and will call you by some other name.
During that class, we saw clips of people who were in various European countries claiming that McDonald's was created in their nation for their people. We all had heard that McDonald's was a global phenomenon, but no one really believed it until then.This introduced to me the concept of global animosity. Like many sports teams (Red Sox and Yankees) and politicians (Hillary vs. the world), there are rivalries that exist between nations. Some do it purely to assert their superiority complexes and make those in power feel better about themselves, while others just want to make large nuclear bombs and nuke the crap out of other countries. As far as we know, that means Palestine and Israel are rivals, as are North Korea and South Korea, but only according to media reports. The last 2 sets of countries are all about the kaboom,
but the other ones who simply want to slander each other for the heck of it. Maybe it dates back to Ye Olde Prehistoric times, I don't know. Either way, these competitions exist.And as time went on, I noticed that most countries didn't like the French. Freedom fries were served instead of French fries and the castle guards in Spamalot have ridiculously snobby accents, as if we could barely tolerate their existence. France was the Richie Rich who wasn't willing to share his theme park with anyone, in short, but this always mystified me. I hope someone is following the thought process here.
Fast forward to the second semester of my sophomore year of college, where I am studying abroad in London. My internship at ESPN is going very well and I'm meeting all sorts of people who work to represent different countries like Belgium, Norway and Italy. In addition, most of my co-workers are from other countries. My supervisor, Nick, is from Italy, as is Danieli, while Klara is from Germany. There is also another woman who sits diagonally across from me, whose name is Cecile. She's a nice woman in her late twenties who works in the marketing department for ESPN Classic. The first time we met was in the Café Disney (aka the cafeteria) at lunch, where we introduced ourselves. Cecile is a really nice name and usually only takes 2 tries, depending on how thick the accent is of the Cecile you're talking to. This one happened to be born in some place in the Caribbean where French is the major language, which means, her French-Caribbean accent made her as easy to understand as a spectacular pun that I am currently lacking.
So yesterday, I was sitting at my workstation, writing like mad to finish the quarterly newsletter that I had been assigned, when Cecile asked me something about the box of chocolates on my desk. The question was, "So...who is she?" Turns out the chocolates were from my mom, which made it a little awkward since she was obviously interested in finding out what kind of hot girl I'm dating. But she then asks me what my name is, since she had forgotten what I had said a week or so ago. I simply told her Seth. "Zeth," she replied, "Is that it?"
"No, it's Seth."
".......Zeth."
"No, Seth. Sssssseth." There was a long pause, a dramatic one even.
"Zeth?"
Her voice was garbled and throaty, as if she was trying to constantly advertise for a Listerine commerical. The 's' was just not going to work. In the end, she asked me my middle name (Thomas) and has decided to call me Tom or Thomas instead. It was either that, endure 3 more months of Zethiness or be referred to as Mr. Palmer. But she will not be calling me Tommy. That name has been ruined thanks to some jerk who dated one of my friends back in high school.
So if you're wondering why the world hates the French, just find one and ask them to pronounce your name. Chances are they won't be able to be able to do it and will call you by some other name.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
A Walk and a Jog
So apparently no one sent me the memo about walking being one of the most amazing things that you can do in London. Forget the tube, leave the buses and cabs behind. Just put on a good pair of walking (or running) shoes and hit the pavement. They don't call it a sidewalk here, they call it "pavement," by the way.
This evening, Luke, Mallory and I decided to take a trip out to Oxford Circus in search of a small store called Cybercandy that sells foreign edibles including Lucky Charms, IBC Root Beer and Twizzlers among other things. After wandering in search of said store for about 15 minutes, we arrived at our destination. Personally, I found it a tad disappointing, partially because the selection was limited and partially because, to be frank, I love the city of London.
London is amazing in so many ways that would take an unfathomable amount of paragraphs to explain, but there are a few main reasons I am beginning to comprehend as today marked a month since my arrival here. London has commerce to offer the businessman, attractions to satisfy the tourist, museums to show the intellectual, streets for the lost to wander, cathedrals for the broken to search for meaning and parks for the runners to run in. Maybe it's partially me and how well I seem to adapt to new environments...or maybe it's me growing up a little by living in a city of seven million inhabitants. The chance to be alone in a crowd yet completely part of a city is exhillarating in a way that sends shivers down my spine from time to time on the tube.
And that's as descriptive as I'll get this entry. So we got out of the store after buying an IBC root beer apiece and made our way over to Covent Garden, which was closed. Instead of taking the tube back, though, we decided to walk back to our flat from Piccadilly Circus, which is where we had wandered to at that point due to a brief excursion to Waterstones. You might think it's a little crazy to walk for that long, but honestly, I wish we'd do it more often. Yeah, it was probably about 2 or 3 miles worth of walking, but you get so much more oriented with the city this way and discover places, streets and sometimes people you didn't know were so close to you. So yeah, it was pretty awesome.
Sidebar: I wish we had a siesta in London during the day. It'd be so nice.
As for me and the trip thus far, it's been a good past couple of weeks. There haven't been any recent trips to cool places like Bath or Stonehenge, but Luke and I will be heading outside of where we normally go this weekend, since most of our other friends are going on a trip to Liverpool...or Budapest, in Sara and Alexa's case. Where exactly we're going, we haven't totally decided yet, but it's going to be somewhere awesome, simply because that's where we like to go: places that thrill, chill and are economically friendly. My internship has been decent enough; I've spent a lot of time sorting out the storeroom with the other intern, Dan, so that's been a little frustrating, but thankfully we were able to finish that project today. We also met with the marketing director, Karmini Sharma, who gave us a briefing on the company itself, its history and what our role would be. Basically, we'll be doing some writing and getting published in newsletters and online magazines soon, which will be great.
Speaking of which, I need to get ready for tomorrow since I'm heading in tomorrow to do a half day of interning at ESPN. Hooray for writing! I'll update again when I get the chance...
This evening, Luke, Mallory and I decided to take a trip out to Oxford Circus in search of a small store called Cybercandy that sells foreign edibles including Lucky Charms, IBC Root Beer and Twizzlers among other things. After wandering in search of said store for about 15 minutes, we arrived at our destination. Personally, I found it a tad disappointing, partially because the selection was limited and partially because, to be frank, I love the city of London.
London is amazing in so many ways that would take an unfathomable amount of paragraphs to explain, but there are a few main reasons I am beginning to comprehend as today marked a month since my arrival here. London has commerce to offer the businessman, attractions to satisfy the tourist, museums to show the intellectual, streets for the lost to wander, cathedrals for the broken to search for meaning and parks for the runners to run in. Maybe it's partially me and how well I seem to adapt to new environments...or maybe it's me growing up a little by living in a city of seven million inhabitants. The chance to be alone in a crowd yet completely part of a city is exhillarating in a way that sends shivers down my spine from time to time on the tube.
And that's as descriptive as I'll get this entry. So we got out of the store after buying an IBC root beer apiece and made our way over to Covent Garden, which was closed. Instead of taking the tube back, though, we decided to walk back to our flat from Piccadilly Circus, which is where we had wandered to at that point due to a brief excursion to Waterstones. You might think it's a little crazy to walk for that long, but honestly, I wish we'd do it more often. Yeah, it was probably about 2 or 3 miles worth of walking, but you get so much more oriented with the city this way and discover places, streets and sometimes people you didn't know were so close to you. So yeah, it was pretty awesome.
Sidebar: I wish we had a siesta in London during the day. It'd be so nice.
As for me and the trip thus far, it's been a good past couple of weeks. There haven't been any recent trips to cool places like Bath or Stonehenge, but Luke and I will be heading outside of where we normally go this weekend, since most of our other friends are going on a trip to Liverpool...or Budapest, in Sara and Alexa's case. Where exactly we're going, we haven't totally decided yet, but it's going to be somewhere awesome, simply because that's where we like to go: places that thrill, chill and are economically friendly. My internship has been decent enough; I've spent a lot of time sorting out the storeroom with the other intern, Dan, so that's been a little frustrating, but thankfully we were able to finish that project today. We also met with the marketing director, Karmini Sharma, who gave us a briefing on the company itself, its history and what our role would be. Basically, we'll be doing some writing and getting published in newsletters and online magazines soon, which will be great.
Speaking of which, I need to get ready for tomorrow since I'm heading in tomorrow to do a half day of interning at ESPN. Hooray for writing! I'll update again when I get the chance...
Sunday, February 3, 2008
My Inner Child and I
Attention readers of the bloggage: Flat 95 now has wireless internet access.
Please join with me in celebration!! Yay!!
Yeah, we have internet now, which is great. I woke up late (around 10) on Saturday morning and was getting ready to go running when the phone started ringing in our hallways. When a phone that's never rung before starts to ring, you know it's pretty important...or bad...but I was hoping for important. Turns out that there was a package downstairs for us at the desk. So in my running clothes, I bolt downstairs to find our router sitting there on the desk! Like the little munchkin I was feeling like at the moment, I snatched the box and bolted back upstairs with the speed of a cheetah with gazelle feet (how's that for imagery?) and ran into our flat.
It felt like Christmas morning when we were all 7 or 8 years old. So Luke and I set up the router painstakingly and, lo and behold, we now have internet access! Huzzah!
Later on that day, Luke, Mary, Mallory and I went on an excursion to Hamley's, which is the giant, seven-floored toy store in Piccadilly Circus. Needless to say, it was AMAZING. There were stuffed animals, giant lions, a huge staircase telling the story of Narnia and a Lego floor, where Luke and I basked in the glorious splendor that is Aqua Raiders (one of the better, less commercialized versions of Legos).
From there, it was on to the Boys section on the top floor, where they also had a cafe section. I sat down after getting my multi-flavoured slushie and watched all of the kids who took me back within myself to reach the inner child who actually had the money to buy a few things instead of having to ask his mom, "Can I get the Spiderman intercom masks pleeeeeeeeease?!?!" My inner child was let out for the time being as further exploration revealed a life-sized WWE outfit with a mildly scary looking 8-year old screaming on the box cover, as well as Transformer trucks that made me smile.
After spending a lot of time in the store and taking about 200 pictures between 2 cameras, (we left after hitting a flying helicopter in mid-air, causing it to crash into the crowd), we reluctantly left Hamley's. Our disappointment was short-lived as we spotted a toy store of a different nature: the Apple Store. Ironically, this was why we had come in the first place, but Hamley's took precedence over the real reason for our excursion. The Apple Store is probably the biggest in the world, literally, and has a ton of people in it every day. I managed to schedule an appointment for the geniuses to take a look at my charger and keyboard, as they are both pretty damaged. Actually at this point, I'd say they aren't because it's the day after and they were both fixed, free of charge!
Thank you, Dad, for convincing me to get Apple Care.
Long story short, it was a fantastic day. We also went to Covent Garden, but Luke and I are headed to the Super Bash in Battersea Park, which is the official NFL-sponsored party of London. He got tickets for a class assignment and managed to squeak out an extra one for me. That's what friends are for. :oP
If there's anything you want to hear about that I'm not covering that you can think of, just post a comment or something like that and I will do my best to update you now that we have internet in our flat and I don't have to sneak on to update at work all the time!
Okay. From London, this is Seth Palmer. You stay classy...Planet Earth.
Please join with me in celebration!! Yay!!
Yeah, we have internet now, which is great. I woke up late (around 10) on Saturday morning and was getting ready to go running when the phone started ringing in our hallways. When a phone that's never rung before starts to ring, you know it's pretty important...or bad...but I was hoping for important. Turns out that there was a package downstairs for us at the desk. So in my running clothes, I bolt downstairs to find our router sitting there on the desk! Like the little munchkin I was feeling like at the moment, I snatched the box and bolted back upstairs with the speed of a cheetah with gazelle feet (how's that for imagery?) and ran into our flat.
It felt like Christmas morning when we were all 7 or 8 years old. So Luke and I set up the router painstakingly and, lo and behold, we now have internet access! Huzzah!
Later on that day, Luke, Mary, Mallory and I went on an excursion to Hamley's, which is the giant, seven-floored toy store in Piccadilly Circus. Needless to say, it was AMAZING. There were stuffed animals, giant lions, a huge staircase telling the story of Narnia and a Lego floor, where Luke and I basked in the glorious splendor that is Aqua Raiders (one of the better, less commercialized versions of Legos).
From there, it was on to the Boys section on the top floor, where they also had a cafe section. I sat down after getting my multi-flavoured slushie and watched all of the kids who took me back within myself to reach the inner child who actually had the money to buy a few things instead of having to ask his mom, "Can I get the Spiderman intercom masks pleeeeeeeeease?!?!" My inner child was let out for the time being as further exploration revealed a life-sized WWE outfit with a mildly scary looking 8-year old screaming on the box cover, as well as Transformer trucks that made me smile.
After spending a lot of time in the store and taking about 200 pictures between 2 cameras, (we left after hitting a flying helicopter in mid-air, causing it to crash into the crowd), we reluctantly left Hamley's. Our disappointment was short-lived as we spotted a toy store of a different nature: the Apple Store. Ironically, this was why we had come in the first place, but Hamley's took precedence over the real reason for our excursion. The Apple Store is probably the biggest in the world, literally, and has a ton of people in it every day. I managed to schedule an appointment for the geniuses to take a look at my charger and keyboard, as they are both pretty damaged. Actually at this point, I'd say they aren't because it's the day after and they were both fixed, free of charge!
Thank you, Dad, for convincing me to get Apple Care.
Long story short, it was a fantastic day. We also went to Covent Garden, but Luke and I are headed to the Super Bash in Battersea Park, which is the official NFL-sponsored party of London. He got tickets for a class assignment and managed to squeak out an extra one for me. That's what friends are for. :oP
If there's anything you want to hear about that I'm not covering that you can think of, just post a comment or something like that and I will do my best to update you now that we have internet in our flat and I don't have to sneak on to update at work all the time!
Okay. From London, this is Seth Palmer. You stay classy...Planet Earth.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Growing Up
I'm sorry in advance for the serious nature of this entry. I'll try to throw some humour in there from time to time, but no guarantees.
(Sidebar: I'm at work and my supervisor's not here today. Since he hasn't called yet, I decided to finish my work that was assigned to me and then hop on here for a quick entry. My internship is AWESOME.)
Last night, Luke, Mary, Amy, Lauren, Jessie and I went to the Victoria Apollo Theatre and saw Wicked. Oh. My. Goodness. The show was staged spectacularly, from the intricacy of the flying monkeys' costumes and wings to the frighteningly large head of the Wizard of Oz's giant machine throne type thing. The man who played Fiyaro had the best voice in the show by far; there was much screaming from 15-year old girls at the end when he came out for a curtain call. However, despite all this, I did not walk away from the production skipping around giddily like a schoolboy, singing "What Is This Feeling?" or "The Wizard and I." Instead, my mind began to ponder the path of seemingly "wicked" behaviour that Elphalba began to follow because of her gifting and misconceptions.
As I stopped in the middle of the aisle on my way out, it suddenly occurred to me that I might be growing up. I might be losing my imagination. True, we are afforded to think and we are afforded the opportunity to go on a philosophical rampage every now and again (too many of my close friends can tell you I do this too often!). However, there was an incident that occured during intermission (that will not be explicated) that led me to wonder when we begin to truly grow up.
Sure, we can go ahead and think all we want to and become versed in the ways of Aristotle and Socrates and attempt not to become one of a dime-a-dozen mediocrities (yes, I stole that line from the show :oP). But what it comes down to is that our mind and our body are inextricably linked. Our actions show what is within us, what we stand for and who we are. If we decide to calmly and rationally accept someone else's opinion, even though it may vastly differ from our own, that can be considered a sign of maturity. If we choose to automatically go on the defensive about every subject that another person criticizes you about and then want to talk about the status of your life's ambitions 20 minutes later, that says something else.
If you followed that thought line at all, you're more impressive than those who stopped halfway through, most likely around the word "imagination" or "afforded." Thanks for suffering through that. I actually have no idea what just came out of my fingers just now, haha, just some thoughts.
And now it's time to get back to work...and call Nick, my supervisor, since he hasn't called yet.
I'm also hungry. Only 2 hours until lunch!
(Sidebar: I'm at work and my supervisor's not here today. Since he hasn't called yet, I decided to finish my work that was assigned to me and then hop on here for a quick entry. My internship is AWESOME.)
Last night, Luke, Mary, Amy, Lauren, Jessie and I went to the Victoria Apollo Theatre and saw Wicked. Oh. My. Goodness. The show was staged spectacularly, from the intricacy of the flying monkeys' costumes and wings to the frighteningly large head of the Wizard of Oz's giant machine throne type thing. The man who played Fiyaro had the best voice in the show by far; there was much screaming from 15-year old girls at the end when he came out for a curtain call. However, despite all this, I did not walk away from the production skipping around giddily like a schoolboy, singing "What Is This Feeling?" or "The Wizard and I." Instead, my mind began to ponder the path of seemingly "wicked" behaviour that Elphalba began to follow because of her gifting and misconceptions.
As I stopped in the middle of the aisle on my way out, it suddenly occurred to me that I might be growing up. I might be losing my imagination. True, we are afforded to think and we are afforded the opportunity to go on a philosophical rampage every now and again (too many of my close friends can tell you I do this too often!). However, there was an incident that occured during intermission (that will not be explicated) that led me to wonder when we begin to truly grow up.
Sure, we can go ahead and think all we want to and become versed in the ways of Aristotle and Socrates and attempt not to become one of a dime-a-dozen mediocrities (yes, I stole that line from the show :oP). But what it comes down to is that our mind and our body are inextricably linked. Our actions show what is within us, what we stand for and who we are. If we decide to calmly and rationally accept someone else's opinion, even though it may vastly differ from our own, that can be considered a sign of maturity. If we choose to automatically go on the defensive about every subject that another person criticizes you about and then want to talk about the status of your life's ambitions 20 minutes later, that says something else.
If you followed that thought line at all, you're more impressive than those who stopped halfway through, most likely around the word "imagination" or "afforded." Thanks for suffering through that. I actually have no idea what just came out of my fingers just now, haha, just some thoughts.
And now it's time to get back to work...and call Nick, my supervisor, since he hasn't called yet.
I'm also hungry. Only 2 hours until lunch!
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