Wednesday, February 15, 2006
You're fucking right I'm in London
Incredibly, I just typed for 30 mins and I'm happy to report I somehow deleted all that I had written. I'M AWESOME.
Here we go,
Again.
(on our own...)
This is the blog of simple, short man, who traveled to London because he thought it was a "good" idea. It came about so that the three friends I have could hear from me. Who can really write to ALL those friends? So I post. I make no apologies about this blog, until I get fired. People will be called out and posting replies is encouraged. Send it to friends or even people who don't know who you are.
You begin to reorganize your life for 2 months. The car is sold, the apartment is gone, and you live on a single mattress in your mother's living room apartment in Woodley Park. You make Costazna look successful. However this is all building towards an eventual goal. A goal that will lead you to pack your bags and head to Dulles airport. Subsequently, you may be told, as I was, that pilot's window on your plane will not close. I'm glad they can open.
Jesus
Fucking
Christ
2 hours later on a new plane I begin my journey to the Isle of Grim Teeth. Landed as soft as a 767 can and made my way to the transportation hub into the city. Thanks to United, I missed the last express train into the city. I caught a city bus, a considerably longer albeit cheap alternative into London. No more than 2 miles away from Heathrow when BANG! Bus breaks down. One more event and it's back to single mattress on mother living room floor for me. I don't care what the people will say. Finally arrive to Hyde Park corner where I will catch a short taxi ride to my place. Not before some strong soul almost vomits on my bags but does manage to spray a bit of my shoes. It was almost reminiscent of my going away party. It was like they KNEW I was coming.
Hopped a quick cab and finally arrived to my new spot on Leinster Terrace at around 2 AM. Ari, a buddy of mine from GW and now London flatmate greeted me upon arrival. Incredibly, he had the foresight to order a pizza, which was literally arriving as I did. Like any good friend, I gave my bags to Ari, had him pay the bill and inhaled that pie like the apocolypse was in 5 mins.
Yes Fossil. Ari is single, he is not 40, but he can act it.
I was and continue to be pleased with the place he picked out. I will post pictures with a walkthrough at a later time. You will get to see the pump-action toilet, do not fear. To be brief, the place is on 2 levels with a living room, full bath and kitchen on the first level. The second level has 2 double bedrooms and a single bed with another full bath. Full bath meaning sink, shower and shitter, but trust me, these are not big. I barely fit. Although in the upstairs bath I can rest my head comfortably on the sink as I sit upon the throne. A point I made to Ari for future convenience.
Sat, I was woken by the sound of and mostly smell of Marley Sayia, the lovable pitbull who was brought over by my buddy Pete (another gw homey). Pete lives a 5 min walk away with his wife and dog. Pete had been given a key to my place and thus Marley was giving me drool and wiping london street runoff onto my pillow, sheets and face. It was a good reunion.
Although it was 7 AM on the east coast and an eye wrinkling 4 in the morning on the west coast where I had basically come from, we went to Gourmet Burger to get the day started right. Spent the afternoon at Pete and Leigh's (his wife) catching up, drinking and talking shit about others. That evening we hit up a local restaurant and were prompt to return in time to watch the Skins (you heard about'm) eek out a win in Tampa. Needless to say, booze was involved before, during and after the game.
Sunday was spent preparing for work. I actually ironed a couple shirts, a rare victory in the fight against feminism.
Sunday night, Leigh was a gem and made us both dinner. Not a bad welcome, and I don't care who you are. Following a pathetic Giants loss I walked the 5 mins back to my place and tried to sleep.
Another failure.
At this point the jetlag was kicking my short, stubby ass all over the continent. I might have snuck an hour in but it wasn't much. As many of you know, I am a "master in first day of work in a new country and continent for basically a new company" preparation. This was par for the course.
My commute to the office is fucking rediculous. And by the unneccessary profanity, I mean it's easy. I take a bus that is a block from my door for about 15 mins and 1.5 quid and I'm there on Oxford Street. The office is just south of Oxford, which resembles 5th Avenue in NY. Large retailers line the streets which are constantly packed with people. Ironically, the office sits on the corner of a small park like the DC one.
My first day went smoothly. 1/2 the day was spent during induction (orientation for you Peter Griffen's out there). I then joined my team on the 3rd floor, where everyone, like all floors, sit in a very open plan. No partition is higher than 3 feet, it really looks like a trading floor in an investment bank.
The new team and I hit up lunch at a local pub and crushed a few bottles of wine. Thanks for the heads up Terry, you were right, the liquid lunch is real. The team is comprised of about 10 or 12 people plus 4 secretaries. The secs is the best part (haa ha ha secs sounds like sex ha ah ah ha aids.) They are incredibly nice, helpful and female. One of them literally came over to me today and asked if I would like a drink, took my order like a waitress and served me at my desk. Not Slick Willey style. Yet.
The office is 7 stories of nothing but JLL employees. It's cool to be in the HQ - things run smoother overall and when you need something, it's usually there or you can physically yell at some one to get it. My team is the National Office and Development team. Basically the leasing group for the western half of the city that also sells building, development sites and finds financing. All the basic brokery (word?) activities that some one in RE could pull off with a few brain cells and some dedication to the Man.
Followed along on my first tour today, it's pretty similar to the way shit is done in the US, only the terminology is different. One nerdy fact but interesting to me (and probably Bradley Allen, known by whores as BA) was that space IS quoted in square feet just like home. However there has been a governmental push towards using metrics, the real estate community has not embraced it and thus, SF it is.
Ok, now I know why you read this long. YES, there is talent in the office. A lot could use a free gym membership for a month or two but coming from my humble history, it's an improvement in scenary. There are a ton of people I have not seen or met, so I will share more as I see more. One thing I learned my first day was that the mens room stalls are floor to ceiling. No outside sounds can be heard, no feet to be seen. The seat is incredibly uncomfortable. Who's managing this building? Also the urinals are really high up on the wall. I literally have to aim straigh ahead.
You gotta love England. Cell phone technology is incredible yet plumbing is still horrible.
Transport good.
Teeth bad.
Dinner with my sister (Audrey) tomorrow night at an Indian restuarant she picked out from her guidebook. My mother would cartwheel and fart to learn of this news. Audrey is also in London until June studying at LSE. A long lost name will also be joining us, Virginia Newcomb, sister of one of my oldest and worst choices in friends, Chuck Newcomb. Virginia is Audrey's age, and also studying here.
It's only my 4th full day in the country but a lot has happened. Please feel free to post questions or inquire about what it's like living like a T-rex. Yes my arms are vestigial. Next question.
SternisOut.
Know that.
Here we go,
Again.
(on our own...)
This is the blog of simple, short man, who traveled to London because he thought it was a "good" idea. It came about so that the three friends I have could hear from me. Who can really write to ALL those friends? So I post. I make no apologies about this blog, until I get fired. People will be called out and posting replies is encouraged. Send it to friends or even people who don't know who you are.
You begin to reorganize your life for 2 months. The car is sold, the apartment is gone, and you live on a single mattress in your mother's living room apartment in Woodley Park. You make Costazna look successful. However this is all building towards an eventual goal. A goal that will lead you to pack your bags and head to Dulles airport. Subsequently, you may be told, as I was, that pilot's window on your plane will not close. I'm glad they can open.
Jesus
Fucking
Christ
2 hours later on a new plane I begin my journey to the Isle of Grim Teeth. Landed as soft as a 767 can and made my way to the transportation hub into the city. Thanks to United, I missed the last express train into the city. I caught a city bus, a considerably longer albeit cheap alternative into London. No more than 2 miles away from Heathrow when BANG! Bus breaks down. One more event and it's back to single mattress on mother living room floor for me. I don't care what the people will say. Finally arrive to Hyde Park corner where I will catch a short taxi ride to my place. Not before some strong soul almost vomits on my bags but does manage to spray a bit of my shoes. It was almost reminiscent of my going away party. It was like they KNEW I was coming.
Hopped a quick cab and finally arrived to my new spot on Leinster Terrace at around 2 AM. Ari, a buddy of mine from GW and now London flatmate greeted me upon arrival. Incredibly, he had the foresight to order a pizza, which was literally arriving as I did. Like any good friend, I gave my bags to Ari, had him pay the bill and inhaled that pie like the apocolypse was in 5 mins.
Yes Fossil. Ari is single, he is not 40, but he can act it.
I was and continue to be pleased with the place he picked out. I will post pictures with a walkthrough at a later time. You will get to see the pump-action toilet, do not fear. To be brief, the place is on 2 levels with a living room, full bath and kitchen on the first level. The second level has 2 double bedrooms and a single bed with another full bath. Full bath meaning sink, shower and shitter, but trust me, these are not big. I barely fit. Although in the upstairs bath I can rest my head comfortably on the sink as I sit upon the throne. A point I made to Ari for future convenience.
Sat, I was woken by the sound of and mostly smell of Marley Sayia, the lovable pitbull who was brought over by my buddy Pete (another gw homey). Pete lives a 5 min walk away with his wife and dog. Pete had been given a key to my place and thus Marley was giving me drool and wiping london street runoff onto my pillow, sheets and face. It was a good reunion.
Although it was 7 AM on the east coast and an eye wrinkling 4 in the morning on the west coast where I had basically come from, we went to Gourmet Burger to get the day started right. Spent the afternoon at Pete and Leigh's (his wife) catching up, drinking and talking shit about others. That evening we hit up a local restaurant and were prompt to return in time to watch the Skins (you heard about'm) eek out a win in Tampa. Needless to say, booze was involved before, during and after the game.
Sunday was spent preparing for work. I actually ironed a couple shirts, a rare victory in the fight against feminism.
Sunday night, Leigh was a gem and made us both dinner. Not a bad welcome, and I don't care who you are. Following a pathetic Giants loss I walked the 5 mins back to my place and tried to sleep.
Another failure.
At this point the jetlag was kicking my short, stubby ass all over the continent. I might have snuck an hour in but it wasn't much. As many of you know, I am a "master in first day of work in a new country and continent for basically a new company" preparation. This was par for the course.
My commute to the office is fucking rediculous. And by the unneccessary profanity, I mean it's easy. I take a bus that is a block from my door for about 15 mins and 1.5 quid and I'm there on Oxford Street. The office is just south of Oxford, which resembles 5th Avenue in NY. Large retailers line the streets which are constantly packed with people. Ironically, the office sits on the corner of a small park like the DC one.
My first day went smoothly. 1/2 the day was spent during induction (orientation for you Peter Griffen's out there). I then joined my team on the 3rd floor, where everyone, like all floors, sit in a very open plan. No partition is higher than 3 feet, it really looks like a trading floor in an investment bank.
The new team and I hit up lunch at a local pub and crushed a few bottles of wine. Thanks for the heads up Terry, you were right, the liquid lunch is real. The team is comprised of about 10 or 12 people plus 4 secretaries. The secs is the best part (haa ha ha secs sounds like sex ha ah ah ha aids.) They are incredibly nice, helpful and female. One of them literally came over to me today and asked if I would like a drink, took my order like a waitress and served me at my desk. Not Slick Willey style. Yet.
The office is 7 stories of nothing but JLL employees. It's cool to be in the HQ - things run smoother overall and when you need something, it's usually there or you can physically yell at some one to get it. My team is the National Office and Development team. Basically the leasing group for the western half of the city that also sells building, development sites and finds financing. All the basic brokery (word?) activities that some one in RE could pull off with a few brain cells and some dedication to the Man.
Followed along on my first tour today, it's pretty similar to the way shit is done in the US, only the terminology is different. One nerdy fact but interesting to me (and probably Bradley Allen, known by whores as BA) was that space IS quoted in square feet just like home. However there has been a governmental push towards using metrics, the real estate community has not embraced it and thus, SF it is.
Ok, now I know why you read this long. YES, there is talent in the office. A lot could use a free gym membership for a month or two but coming from my humble history, it's an improvement in scenary. There are a ton of people I have not seen or met, so I will share more as I see more. One thing I learned my first day was that the mens room stalls are floor to ceiling. No outside sounds can be heard, no feet to be seen. The seat is incredibly uncomfortable. Who's managing this building? Also the urinals are really high up on the wall. I literally have to aim straigh ahead.
You gotta love England. Cell phone technology is incredible yet plumbing is still horrible.
Transport good.
Teeth bad.
Dinner with my sister (Audrey) tomorrow night at an Indian restuarant she picked out from her guidebook. My mother would cartwheel and fart to learn of this news. Audrey is also in London until June studying at LSE. A long lost name will also be joining us, Virginia Newcomb, sister of one of my oldest and worst choices in friends, Chuck Newcomb. Virginia is Audrey's age, and also studying here.
It's only my 4th full day in the country but a lot has happened. Please feel free to post questions or inquire about what it's like living like a T-rex. Yes my arms are vestigial. Next question.
SternisOut.
Know that.
