Better late than never I guess. I was lucky enough to celebrate Thanksgiving dinner with the coworkers I was with last year. Not your traditional Thanksgiving dinner; although there were Sweet Potatoes! Instead it had a Spanish influence! Home made Sangria and Paella! Guess it made sense since our hosts were Spanish.
So I guess I just wanted to give "Thanks" to anyone and everyone who still keeps up with this Blog. I know there are loyal readers out there that are pretty good in keeping up with it and others that stop by from time to time to see how I'm doing.
I want to say thanks to all of you. As I've mentioned many times before, this blog is my way of keeping in touch. Granted I don't reveal everything, (that's what email and the phone is for) but I try and share my stupid stories as much as I can. I enjoy writing and I try to keep it interesting and entertaining and do my best not to write "just to write."
With things being so "normal" here these days, its so hard to find that quirky, life revealing, "wow, I can't believe I'm in London" experiences, thus the decline in the number of blog posts.
Perhaps this should drive me to experience more and to avoid this "normalcy." I'm trying my best not to be "stagnant." At the same time, I don't want to try too hard!
A part of me is completely adjusted to life here, yet another part of me is still displaced since I had the friends back home that I share so much history with, something I obviously don't have here. But I'm working on it.
I guess that's what so fun about going home.. is to "refill" that feeling that I miss so much... the banter.. the bonding, the jokes, and all the corniness that comes along with it. I guess I'm still trying to find people that "get me" here, but it hard to compete with people that have known you for almost your whole life....
In any case, for the audience out there, especially back home, that still reads these posts... I'm coming home soon!
Monday, November 27, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Bottle Service for Three and JT.
There has only been a handful of times that I've had bottle service in a club. Usually its with a big group of people at some special occasion or some exotic location in a high class club in Las Vegas or Miami. I've never had the "casual" bottle service experience where you get to a club and just decide, "Why not?"
Here's the problem with this:
Here's the brilliant part about it:
I tried the ice breaker line a couple times but wasn't successful as I wanted. At one point I was so bad that I think I just smiled, raised my eyebrows a couple times in a suggestive way, and just pointed at the bottle without even talking. But that was just me being a dork and funny, but for some reason I don't think I came off that way! =)
So I tried other techniques. One of which is singing when a really good tune comes on. Good Ol' Justin Timberlake's - "My Love" came on while I was on the dance floor.
So what did I do? What any other person would do after enjoying some bottle service! Sing along!
During the time I was dancing next to an oriental girl. She was singing along as well. We were singing together in fact partying hard. Then the chorus came.
If you haven't heard the song before, the chorus pretty much consists of two key words: "My LOVE!"
My problem: I kept singing:
"My GIRL."
This had unfortunate consequences as I got a dirty look from the oriental girl each time I'd yell out the chorus with the wrong words. Whatever progress I made with here was destroyed since I did not know my JT lyrics.
In a last ditch attempt to save face, after realising my mistake, I told her:
"I HAVE THIS CD!"
Smooth. I didn't know what to think at this point. The bottle service got the best of me, not only of making me sing the lyrics all wrong but admitting to the fact that I had the FutureSex/LoveSongs CD!
Of course her immediate response was:
"Yeah right!" (Then she walked away.)
At least she didn't believe me.
Stupid bottle service.
Here's the problem with this:
- Bottle service is not a good idea with only 3 people.
- Not a good idea after already having a few drinks. Usually when people order bottle service its to "start" a night of drinking. You don't decide to get it when you are halfway through the night drinking.
- Bottle service = You are the bartender. What this means? It means that after too many drinks you feel invincible the amount of hard liquor you pour into your "mixed drink" increases dramatically as the night goes on.
- You have to fight this temptation of just grabbing the bottle and chugging it.
- The feeling the next morning.
Here's the brilliant part about it:
- You get to sit in prime real estate booths in the club and everyone can stare at you as you pour your own drinks and celebrate your new found "baller" status.
- You get this cool glow in the dark bucket that changes colours and you find yourself staring at it more and more as the night goes on.
- Guaranteed Good time.
- You immediately have an ice breaker line to any woman that walks past: "Do you want a drink?"
I tried the ice breaker line a couple times but wasn't successful as I wanted. At one point I was so bad that I think I just smiled, raised my eyebrows a couple times in a suggestive way, and just pointed at the bottle without even talking. But that was just me being a dork and funny, but for some reason I don't think I came off that way! =)
So I tried other techniques. One of which is singing when a really good tune comes on. Good Ol' Justin Timberlake's - "My Love" came on while I was on the dance floor.
So what did I do? What any other person would do after enjoying some bottle service! Sing along!
During the time I was dancing next to an oriental girl. She was singing along as well. We were singing together in fact partying hard. Then the chorus came.
If you haven't heard the song before, the chorus pretty much consists of two key words: "My LOVE!"
My problem: I kept singing:
"My GIRL."
This had unfortunate consequences as I got a dirty look from the oriental girl each time I'd yell out the chorus with the wrong words. Whatever progress I made with here was destroyed since I did not know my JT lyrics.
In a last ditch attempt to save face, after realising my mistake, I told her:
"I HAVE THIS CD!"
Smooth. I didn't know what to think at this point. The bottle service got the best of me, not only of making me sing the lyrics all wrong but admitting to the fact that I had the FutureSex/LoveSongs CD!
Of course her immediate response was:
"Yeah right!" (Then she walked away.)
At least she didn't believe me.
Stupid bottle service.
Monday, November 13, 2006
He feed me.
It comes to no surprise that it was yet another weekend of clubbing activities. My wallet always seems to be the consistent victim on these nights out, and can only be blamed upon the fact that I'm celebrating my bachelor life.
The adventures continue again this weekend to celebrate another mate's birthday and to take out some visitors from Greece! Its not every weekend that there are about the same number of women as there are to guys.
But alas, even with this fact, we can't help but make the "rounds" when hitting the dance floor.
The "rounds" you ask?
The "rounds" is simply the act of walking around the club, checking out the clientele. You basically nod your head to the beats of the dj, pretending you have rhythm, and simply try and check out every woman in the club, hoping, praying, wishing, you make eye contact. With a good amount of luck, that smile you flash could be returned and it could be your way "in."
"In" you ask?
In is when you have some kind of verification that this lady would like to dance with you. At least this is how I work. Sometimes you don't need an "in" indication and just can get behind some girl, sneaking in from behind, and hope for the best. But this isn't my style. I like some kind of verification before I dance with her and show her my justin timberlake moves.
So I go two "ins" this weekend.
First one was pretty hilarious. I started dancing with these ladies that looked like they had a lot of rhythm. I love dancing with women that can really dance. So I moved in with a mate and we started dancing with them. Good times I tell you. Until I turned around to shake what my momma gave me...
"Ouch!"
Before I knew it, they were slapping my behind like I was some kind of horse! It was so strange at first, but then I didn't mind. Good times! It was all in good fun and they had this ghetto London accent which was pretty cool.
Second one was unforgettable. My mate spotted a group of "orientals" and started dancing with one. All three were dressed pretty nice and smelled so good. I couldn't leave the other two alone so I started dancing with the other two! Oh it was so much fun! They were not afraid to dance close at all and it seemed to good to be true. They were so eager.. until my third mate found it quite odd that they were quite "eager." I didn't mind as I was having a great time.
He then whispered to me..
"I think they're prostitutes.."
How dare him accuse these beautiful women to be "professionals!" I didn't want to believe it... I was having such a good time...
As the dancing continued I noticed a guy that looked like the wrestler, Mark Henry. I mean, this guy was huge. So I start to do some detective work. As we are dancing I start to ask questions.
I was a bit worried at first because she didn't understand me. I think her English wasn't very good. It didn't help that the music was blaring loud either. We tried to exchange dialog, but it was too loud and I started to realise that there was a language barrier.
At the same time, I noticed that "Mark Henry" would butt in one a while between my mate and his dance partner every time he'd get too close. So then I just bluntly asked the woman I was dancing with:
"So who is that guy?"
She mumbled something. I asked her the same question again. She mumbled the same phrase. I didn't know what she was saying, but part of me did. She even consulted her friend to make sure she was saying it right too.
Sure enough, after a third and fourth time of her repeating it, all I could understand was:
"He feed me."
Sweet! He feeds her. What does that mean? Then I put two and two together. I was outta there.
Sure enough, my mate mistakenly gave his number to one of them and of course right after they left he was getting phone calls from her.
What kind of woman calls a bloke right after leaving a club? Make your own assumptions I guess.
The adventures continue again this weekend to celebrate another mate's birthday and to take out some visitors from Greece! Its not every weekend that there are about the same number of women as there are to guys.
But alas, even with this fact, we can't help but make the "rounds" when hitting the dance floor.
The "rounds" you ask?
The "rounds" is simply the act of walking around the club, checking out the clientele. You basically nod your head to the beats of the dj, pretending you have rhythm, and simply try and check out every woman in the club, hoping, praying, wishing, you make eye contact. With a good amount of luck, that smile you flash could be returned and it could be your way "in."
"In" you ask?
In is when you have some kind of verification that this lady would like to dance with you. At least this is how I work. Sometimes you don't need an "in" indication and just can get behind some girl, sneaking in from behind, and hope for the best. But this isn't my style. I like some kind of verification before I dance with her and show her my justin timberlake moves.
So I go two "ins" this weekend.
First one was pretty hilarious. I started dancing with these ladies that looked like they had a lot of rhythm. I love dancing with women that can really dance. So I moved in with a mate and we started dancing with them. Good times I tell you. Until I turned around to shake what my momma gave me...
"Ouch!"
Before I knew it, they were slapping my behind like I was some kind of horse! It was so strange at first, but then I didn't mind. Good times! It was all in good fun and they had this ghetto London accent which was pretty cool.
Second one was unforgettable. My mate spotted a group of "orientals" and started dancing with one. All three were dressed pretty nice and smelled so good. I couldn't leave the other two alone so I started dancing with the other two! Oh it was so much fun! They were not afraid to dance close at all and it seemed to good to be true. They were so eager.. until my third mate found it quite odd that they were quite "eager." I didn't mind as I was having a great time.
He then whispered to me..
"I think they're prostitutes.."
How dare him accuse these beautiful women to be "professionals!" I didn't want to believe it... I was having such a good time...
As the dancing continued I noticed a guy that looked like the wrestler, Mark Henry. I mean, this guy was huge. So I start to do some detective work. As we are dancing I start to ask questions.
I was a bit worried at first because she didn't understand me. I think her English wasn't very good. It didn't help that the music was blaring loud either. We tried to exchange dialog, but it was too loud and I started to realise that there was a language barrier.
At the same time, I noticed that "Mark Henry" would butt in one a while between my mate and his dance partner every time he'd get too close. So then I just bluntly asked the woman I was dancing with:
"So who is that guy?"
She mumbled something. I asked her the same question again. She mumbled the same phrase. I didn't know what she was saying, but part of me did. She even consulted her friend to make sure she was saying it right too.
Sure enough, after a third and fourth time of her repeating it, all I could understand was:
"He feed me."
Sweet! He feeds her. What does that mean? Then I put two and two together. I was outta there.
Sure enough, my mate mistakenly gave his number to one of them and of course right after they left he was getting phone calls from her.
What kind of woman calls a bloke right after leaving a club? Make your own assumptions I guess.
Monday, November 06, 2006
High School Reunion
You know its a really small world when a person you knew in high school happens to move to London around the same time as you do. I don't see this person for over 11 years and my visit to NYC last week revealed that he's a friend of a friend! Sure enough, my NYC friends link us back up and we finally caught up over the weekend.
He was a nerd back in high school, as was I in some ways. But he was in the true "nerd" crowd and I look at him now and I would have never guessed it after meeting up with him over the weekend. We shared our experiences over the past 11 years and went down the list of people we knew in high school and played that game of:
"So do you still talk to..."
“Whatever happened to…”
“Did you hear about??”
It turns out that we moved around the same time, so it was interesting to hear his experiences in London compared to mine. We had an interesting discussion on the different areas in London and how each little area has a different feel, something that I could tell right away by hanging out near the area where he lived. (Which seems to predominately populated with "continentals") He had an interesting point that depending on where you live, will affect on how much you enjoy London. He had a story of a friend that just didn’t like London at all. He then moved locations and all of a sudden he loves it.
Now I’m not saying that I don’t like London or that I’m not enjoying my experiences, but I think I’m ready to move to a different area. I love my flat and its so easy to be lazy and stay in the area where I live, but I think it would be worth living in another part of the capital.
He was a nerd back in high school, as was I in some ways. But he was in the true "nerd" crowd and I look at him now and I would have never guessed it after meeting up with him over the weekend. We shared our experiences over the past 11 years and went down the list of people we knew in high school and played that game of:
"So do you still talk to..."
“Whatever happened to…”
“Did you hear about??”
It turns out that we moved around the same time, so it was interesting to hear his experiences in London compared to mine. We had an interesting discussion on the different areas in London and how each little area has a different feel, something that I could tell right away by hanging out near the area where he lived. (Which seems to predominately populated with "continentals") He had an interesting point that depending on where you live, will affect on how much you enjoy London. He had a story of a friend that just didn’t like London at all. He then moved locations and all of a sudden he loves it.
Now I’m not saying that I don’t like London or that I’m not enjoying my experiences, but I think I’m ready to move to a different area. I love my flat and its so easy to be lazy and stay in the area where I live, but I think it would be worth living in another part of the capital.
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