Sunday, June 15, 2014

Are you watching the game?

I feel like I have been asked this multiple times today. 

"The game" is a generic term that means something completely different depending on your current city. In San Antonio "the game" clearly means the NBA finals where the Spurs will take home the title. "The game" in England is clearly the World Cup. (And the US plays tomorrow - so that's what people here are referring to.

My mom was shocked and slightly appalled when I had to ask "which game". She doesn't know that you can't walk outside here without being smacked in the face with World Cup. 

Which leads me to the following comic:

This comic cracked me up. But instead of it being "the internet" it is "the continent that I currently live on".


I make jokes, but really? I think this is how outsiders must see a college ("uni") football game in Texas. "Cult" could describe all passionate sports fanatics... Spurs, football, futbol...

Oh. But I never answered the question. Will I watch "the game", well.... Maybe the first hour at a pub with friends.. You know, until I have to go to sleep since it's umm a work night? Basically, this is not the time zone to live in to conveniently watch sports in the Western Hemisphere. 

Good night sports fanatics. This girl is signing off. But don't worry, it's nothing a good cup of coffee can't fix. (Unless of course your team loses - whichever team that is)

Monday, May 5, 2014

Strike!

Tube strike. An 2ish day event that completely and utterly sucks. It's when the London metro employees strike for more benefits and create a giant inconvenience for most of the London population.

I love not having to drive anywhere. You don't have to worry about who is driving, the annoying drivers on the road, or if you can have that second glass of wine. I don't have to worry about how visitors will get around either. 

All of this is ruined when the tube strikes.

Then you are left slightly helpless with either an hour walk (in the rain) to work or an hour taxi ride that will cost a fortune if you are lucky enough (and get up at the crack of dawn) to get one.

The positives? We have signs and news that let us know EXACTLY when then tube strike will be (And end!) Pretty orderly huh?

The negatives? We have signs and news that let us know EXACTLY when then tube strike will be. Then you can dread these days for a whole 2 weeks or so before the strike. 

If anything, it makes me appreciate the public transit system and simultaneously hate it. Remind me of this next time I complain about the heat on the train in rush hours ;)




Monday, February 3, 2014

Super Bowl Sunday

That's a lie. More like super bowl Monday. The game here started roughly at 11:30pm. And some people have trouble keeping their eyes open watching football as it is?

This year, I had the honor of watching the super bowl in a suite at the hotel with the team. And this year? I finally realize how most of the avid-football-guys in America feel on any given Super Bowl Sunday. 

(1) I knew more about football than most of the room. And by that, I mean I was the second-most-knowledgeable person in the room in regards to the sport. The topics of conversation included "what is a punt" and "why are some guys bigger than others". 

(2) No one actually cared though! That's right, they asked questions to understand but not because they actually cared.

(3) The only part that mattered was the pre-game and half-time show. But oh wait, we can't see commercials here. In London we have to wait until they are on YouTube.

(4) Food was the emphasis. American wings, the novelty of "Budweiser", papa john's pizza, and Doritos were on the menu (I had no idea they had papa johns here. I ate my share for old times sake, I regret that decision...)

(5) Teams were picked based on ther colors. Or mascots. I'm not kidding. I'm coming to the UK to watch the Super Bowl every year!

(6) Oh yea, and we can talk during important plays. No one even knew which those were.

(7) We betted for the sake of betting and rooting for something. Not because anyone studied or had any clue who should win. Or by how many points. Or even if it is called a "touchdown" or a "home run". 

Now, I know that I don't know a thing about rugby (except it's like football without pads?) or cricket. So I'm not saying that the international team SHOULD know the that the Seahawks running that many yards in the opening plays is a big deal... I'm just saying that it's nice to finally find a group of people who watch the games like I do. (For the camaraderie)





Friday, January 24, 2014

What I've learned from my homeless friends

I have been honored and blessed to have the opportunity to meet people from all across the world (mostly Europe) while in London the last year. However, I don’t think you always need to go that far to be inspired – the people you might learn the most from might be right at your door stoop, literally. The two people I believe to have influenced me the most (or at least a great deal) while on this journey have been Bingo and Joanne, two of my friends in London (who just happen to be homeless).

In Texas, it seems that we just roll up our windows at the intersection where people are begging for money. We do not get that personal, human-to-human, interaction that you do in a walking city (a London, NYC, etc). Which can really be quite a shame - because these two individuals have given me a slightly new perspective on life that I will take with me forever. I would like to share five of the lessons:

(1) A warm smile and a fist pump go a long way. People living in London are not exactly known to be the most open and friendly people (but then again, isn’t that most big cities?). I can go my entire commute without a look, let alone a smile. I am merely something in the way from other people who are “oh so important” who are trying to get from point A to point B. Once I befriended Bingo, I had someone who always greeted me with a genuine smile and a fist pump – even on my worst day. That small gesture sometimes made me feel just a little bit better when the rain and cold were getting the best of me.

(2)  Bad things happen to good people. I was lucky enough to hear Joanne’s story. Her story could have happened to me, you, or anyone. Be grateful for what you have because you might not have it one day – And don’t pass any judgment, because tomorrow? You might find yourself in the same situation. Joana has the kindest of hearts and has almost been a Mom-away-from home for me in many aspects. She never asks me for a cigarette or an alcoholic beverage – when I beg her to let me buy her something? Yea, she asks for a prawn salad. Because it’s hard to get healthy food on a budget. Take the time and listen.

(3) It is all about how you look at things.  Actually, in this case, literally. I could not get contacts to the UK for awhile (damn customs, etc). I had to wear my glasses (kill my ego now). Bingo patiently listened to my update every day on the contacts-saga. One day, when he asked about my day, I complained to him about how “frustrating the optometrist reception was” and “how customs stinks” and I’m wearing GLASSES again. I asked Bingo how he was and he said “I am blessed”. Well damn. Here I am complaining about glasses to a homeless man when I am about to walk into my warm hotel room on a rainy day, and he is the one who is blessed? Hm.

(4)  Give back. Joanne volunteers with a passion. She volunteers at her church and she sang in a Christmas Choir group. She has every right to say “life threw me lemons” and not want to help people when others don’t always help her. But not Jo. She GIVES to those less fortunate. There is always going to be someone better off than you – and always someone less fortunate. If my friend Jo can give back, there is no reason the rest of us can’t.

(5) Friendship is really just a listening ear. Both Joanne and Bingo have been a listening ear and a warm consistent friend. They take the time to ask me daily about life/work/relationships/etc. It isn’t always about who you go to the bars with – it is about who is there for you when you just want to chat. Real friendship is that genuine interest in someone else’s life – which I can only hope that I bring to my other friendships and make my friends feel as special as they make me feel daily.




Sunday, January 12, 2014

Just in time to see the bus fly by....

One thing that is different about London is my use of public transit. Good days start off with getting to the tube platform right as it pulls up. (If I get a seat... Well, might as well buy a lottery ticket that day)

Nothing hurts worse than looking at the bus tracker and seeing your bus "due" or "1 minute", sprinting to the stop, and - right before you get there - watching the bus fly by. (I never experienced "walking to my parking spot to see my car fly by... Thankfully, because that probably means it was just stolen)

The only thing that comforts me is that I notoriously sing the Saved By The Bell theme song (in my head, I'm not like that weird homeless man) and I feel strangely better. Shout out to Zach Morris and the early 90s. 

... Now that I think about it, it's strange that they never made a "Saved by the bell: the middle-class working years" There could be a potential future for that?


Livin' the high life

... The title? Yea, that's a pun. Because I'm about to write a post about both flying and living in style. (Just wanted to make sure no one missed it)

Today is the day I finally made it. I was upgraded for the first time on British Airways to first class. (Oh yea! Revenge of the colonies <--- I'm slightly embarrassed that I just wrote that)

What does this means? On British, it means you have your own little cubical in the very front of the plane (pictures below). I had to retain my innerchild from jumping up and down in my area.


I don't know why I thought only famous (or really rich people) would be my companions. Turns out, I found myself in the company of 100% males, of which I was the youngest by about 20 years. 

This means that (1) I got strange looks from people - or maybe I was just selfconscious (2) I was the only one that got the "female" style pack. I think it was the only one with a brush instead of a comb. But then again, most of these men could hardly use a comb (3) I had very little sleep. Probably due to the amount of snoring old men - seriously it's like the snoreberian orchestra. And not in a good way.

I tried to fit in and feel like I deserve first class, but that potential was lost by my teenage selfie that I had to take for proof


The flight attendant was rather concerned about feeding me. As he mentioned everytime (and allowed me to have multiple desserts - oops). I must have forgotten to order a vegetarian meal, since there is normally and option. But not in first class! Sigh. Well, maybe there was, but I had no idea how to read this menu. So many strange words! (Does your vocabulary have to increase to fly first?)


The flight attendant who proclaimed that he "didn't want to send me home hungry or my mom will wonder what those people on British airways are feeding me" took a meal from business class for me. (Damn straight! Pulling rank on my first day?!?) 

We were also all served these weird little starters. It tasted of... Well... Not much to be honest. But it looked cool. 


Oh, and they make your bed. Which means laying down a pad and giving you a warm comforter. Not too shabby. I woke up to a strange hair tie on my table. The attendant explained to me that he assumed it was mine "since I'm the girl". Hmmm. No - But I do wonder who else's it could have been? 



In conclusion. Prince Harry was not on my flight. But turns out he's officially taken now anyways (hey, a girl can still dream right?