Just wanted to quickly apologize for the lack of postings recently. This is partly due to an increase of work at my job (unfortunate for many reasons), some travelling (again, work not pleasure), moved to a new flat (British for apartment), just busy overall ... not a whole lot of free time, and just bad time management ...
Anyway, just wanted to post something. I've got some good topics/stories brewing, so hopefully I'll have a chance to write. Cheers!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Blast from the Past: Shirtless in Champaign
Apologies for the lack of postings over the past week...combination of other obligations during the week, and probably going out a tad too much and, honestly, drinking a few too many over the weekend (there's a reason behind the blog title). Anyway, it's been a while since the last post, and even longer since the last installment of "Blast from the Past," so I feel this is an appropriate time to reminisce on a past night of debouchary (as I try and recall the most recent outings from the weekend, haha).
Night Out at University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign)
From the title I think you can deduct that this story takes place at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, which in fact is my alum-mater. I spent four great years there and at the risk of sounding cliche, it was a special period in my life that I won't forget (at least the moments and memories I can remember). Without spending too much time gushing over all of the great times I had there, let's just dive right into this specific night out.
My first two years at UIllinois I lived in the dorms and looking back on it now, I probably would not have changed that decision. I had a great group of friends surrounding me, great roommate, and after noticing how my grades dropped once moving into private apartments, it probably saved me academically at that time. It did make drinking a little more difficult...for whatever reason RAs (Resident Advisors, aka glorified college hall monitors) didn't really like the idea of underage kids getting wasted in small corridors at odd hours of the night (or any hours during the days for that matter). Either way, we got pretty good at it...at least good enough not to get in any real trouble (by the end I did manage to be placed on life-time probation from any and all University owned housing establishments--different story).
We really weren't that sly about our actions, however. We were noisy, the hall clearly smelled of booze, and I think kids passing out and/or puking in the floor-bathroom were dead giveaways. We managed though.
One night, we began as normal...meeting in someone's room, playing drinking games, and just doing what normal college kids do. Needless to say we probably over did it a little bit that night, but that didn't stop us from going out. We gathered the group and set out to Clybourne's (each bar had it's night during the week, Cly's was famous for wine night, Tuesday?, and Mexican night, Thursday?--not sure which night this was).
Once we got there, the group pretty much separated. One of my really good friends immediately went for the bathroom (a grimy, dungeon like shit-hole in the basement) where he proceeded to puke. His night was over before it started, but he did have the self-awearness to go home. The rest of us continued, doing what college guys do...seek out coeds. Most of the time we really weren't that successful, so there's no point to making shit up and making it seem like we pulled every night out...I mean let's be realistic.
This night, however, I did have some luck. I somehow started dancing with a little cutie...near the stripper pole. It's always a bad sign if you combine drunk college kids and stripper poles--something I didn't know at that time. We started getting pretty into it, and at one point the girl started lifting my shirt up, trying to take it off. I told her the only way mine was coming off was if her's did as well...keeping in mind that we were still in the middle of this bar, dancing sloppily around a pole. She didn't object (classy U of I). At that point, her friend saw what was going on and ran over to stop her (both of us shirtless--her in bra, me in wife-beater).
I was disappointed the fun came to an end...then even more disappointed to realize the bar was closing, I lost all my friends, and was standing in a wife-beater next to a stripper pole (again, classy U of I). I realized I should probably head back home...to the dorms.
After a lengthy walk home, I stumbled up to the dorms noticing my friends sitting outside on a bench smoking pipe tobacco from a corn-cob pipe (seriously, I swear it was only tobacco and from a corn-cob pipe--yet again, classy U of I). As they saw me approaching, I could hear them all laughing hysterically, yelling at me "why's your shirt inside-out?"There was no good way to answer that question.
Night Out at University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign)
From the title I think you can deduct that this story takes place at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, which in fact is my alum-mater. I spent four great years there and at the risk of sounding cliche, it was a special period in my life that I won't forget (at least the moments and memories I can remember). Without spending too much time gushing over all of the great times I had there, let's just dive right into this specific night out.
My first two years at UIllinois I lived in the dorms and looking back on it now, I probably would not have changed that decision. I had a great group of friends surrounding me, great roommate, and after noticing how my grades dropped once moving into private apartments, it probably saved me academically at that time. It did make drinking a little more difficult...for whatever reason RAs (Resident Advisors, aka glorified college hall monitors) didn't really like the idea of underage kids getting wasted in small corridors at odd hours of the night (or any hours during the days for that matter). Either way, we got pretty good at it...at least good enough not to get in any real trouble (by the end I did manage to be placed on life-time probation from any and all University owned housing establishments--different story).We really weren't that sly about our actions, however. We were noisy, the hall clearly smelled of booze, and I think kids passing out and/or puking in the floor-bathroom were dead giveaways. We managed though.
One night, we began as normal...meeting in someone's room, playing drinking games, and just doing what normal college kids do. Needless to say we probably over did it a little bit that night, but that didn't stop us from going out. We gathered the group and set out to Clybourne's (each bar had it's night during the week, Cly's was famous for wine night, Tuesday?, and Mexican night, Thursday?--not sure which night this was).
Once we got there, the group pretty much separated. One of my really good friends immediately went for the bathroom (a grimy, dungeon like shit-hole in the basement) where he proceeded to puke. His night was over before it started, but he did have the self-awearness to go home. The rest of us continued, doing what college guys do...seek out coeds. Most of the time we really weren't that successful, so there's no point to making shit up and making it seem like we pulled every night out...I mean let's be realistic.
This night, however, I did have some luck. I somehow started dancing with a little cutie...near the stripper pole. It's always a bad sign if you combine drunk college kids and stripper poles--something I didn't know at that time. We started getting pretty into it, and at one point the girl started lifting my shirt up, trying to take it off. I told her the only way mine was coming off was if her's did as well...keeping in mind that we were still in the middle of this bar, dancing sloppily around a pole. She didn't object (classy U of I). At that point, her friend saw what was going on and ran over to stop her (both of us shirtless--her in bra, me in wife-beater).
I was disappointed the fun came to an end...then even more disappointed to realize the bar was closing, I lost all my friends, and was standing in a wife-beater next to a stripper pole (again, classy U of I). I realized I should probably head back home...to the dorms.
After a lengthy walk home, I stumbled up to the dorms noticing my friends sitting outside on a bench smoking pipe tobacco from a corn-cob pipe (seriously, I swear it was only tobacco and from a corn-cob pipe--yet again, classy U of I). As they saw me approaching, I could hear them all laughing hysterically, yelling at me "why's your shirt inside-out?"There was no good way to answer that question.
Monday, October 04, 2010
London Tube Stories ... Nice Chat & Incredible Act of Kindness
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| London Underground, a.k.a. "The Tube" |
Anyway, I had a couple unique experiences this weekend using the tube. The first was Friday night (actually Saturday morning) coming back home after a long night out. The other was Saturday evening, while the night was just beginning.
Nice Chat
Friday nights have been (so far) pretty long and fun. They usually begin right after work, around 5:30/6 PM and can last anywhere until 2-5 AM...so far they've been closer to 5. Anyway, this Friday was no different. Right after work we headed to a local pub, drank an English amount of beer with no real dinner (according to the locals here "eating is cheating"), then decided to extend the night by going to a night club. Pubs/bars close at midnight, so this is quite typical...who wants to go home at midnight?
We ended up at a pretty fun club, I believe it was called Cafe De Paris, staying until close, which I think was right around 4 AM. Afterwards we roamed the streets searching for some drunk-food. Normally, at least from my experience in the States, this would usually consist of either pizza or a burrito. In London, however, your options are much, much bigger. In a city with such a diverse culture there is literally everything and anything you can imagine...doesn't matter what time of night/day.
We ended up at a pretty authentic chinese restaurant, which was odd to me since who goes to a sit-down restaurant at 4:30 AM? It proved to be a great decision. There were about 6-7 of us, so we ended up ordering family style. Soup to start, multiple entries, lots of rice, and of course tea. It was easily one of the best drunk/late-night meals I've had in a while, not to mention pretty good chinese (I'm not a huge fan generally, it all tastes the same/similar...but it probably helped being drunk and starving).
After eating we all separated, heading to our respective homes. I hopped on a bus with a friend, who was nice enough to help guide/advise me on how to get home. The bus ended up taking me about halfway home, at which point my buddy said to just take a taxi.
As I got off the bus I instantly recognized where I was (slowly getting familiar with the city), and realized there was no need for a taxi. I could just hop on the tube and be home in no time. Maybe so during a normal weekday, but not a chance at 5 AM on a Saturday morning.
I ended up riding the train for a good hour, most of which consisted of the train stalling midway to a stop or waiting stationary once reaching the next stop. As frustrating as this may seem, the ride was actually quite enjoyable. There was only one other person in the same car as I; a young girl, similar in age, and mildly attractive (but that's beside the point, haha...also keep in mind I was not completely sober, so the level of attractiveness is up for debate).
We ended up talking for the majority of the ride, which proved to be most entertaining. At one point she asked where I was from, to which I replied "guess?" She thought for a couple minutes then said "South Africa?" I couldn't help but laugh...I'm familiar with S. African accents and they are very different and unique, quite opposite from American accents. Anyway, I explained that I'm Serbian but grew up in the States, to which she replied, "hm, that explains the dodgy accent"...I guess. Overall, fun night and an interesting end to it. Random conversations are always fun, especially when you're in a new city and country...
Incredible Act of Kindness
Saturday night I was heading out to meet up with some friends for dinner and some drinks. I boarded the closest train and was on my way for a short ride to the restaurant/bar we were supposed to meet at. As soon as I got on the train (it was rather busy), I squeezed my way through to the back of the car. I usually don't like to sit on subways/trains (especially for short rides) since those sets should be left for older people, children, etc...I honestly have no reason to be that lazy...but in all honesty, I'm pretty lazy throughout the day (lounging/laying around), so I figure 5 minutes of standing won't kill me.
Anyway, as I stood at the far/back end for the car, I noticed a clearly drunken, older man sitting down near the middle. As the train started to leave the station, the initial jerk threw him out of his set. He was so drunk, however, he did nothing to prevent this. He simply face-planted in the middle of the car, rolling a bit until he hit the feet of the individual he was previously sitting next to. This man was roughly my age (mid-20's), sitting alone, and texting at the time this occurred. He continued to sit there, finishing up his text, as the drunken, old bastard continued to unknowingly lean against his legs.
Once finishing with his mobile phone, the young man moved his feet, looked at the drunk on the train floor and nicely tapped him on the shoulder, trying to get his attention, hoping to wake him up. After a while he noticed this was no use. At this point, everyone sitting around the scene got up and left, making the ends of the car even more crowded...leaving the middle essentially empty.
The young man got up, picked up the old man, sat him down on the seat next to him, and proceeded to talk to him until he came to his senses. The entire time he had his arm around the man, encouraging him to stop drinking (or drink less), and even asked if he need assitance to get off the train and home. I honestly couldn't believe how patient and understanding the young man was.
I made an effort to pay attention (as I think most people on the train did) to hear what they were conversing about. The older, drunken man kept insisting he was ok...and then at one point seemed to come to his sense and asked in a very shocking manner, "are you Muslim?" This was very evident as the young man was sporting traditional Muslim attire and had a typically Muslim beard (not to sound stereotypical or racist, but he was). The young man took no offense and responded "yes." They continued to talk for quite a bit, laughing together most of the time, and the older gentlemen ended up getting off the train (with assistance from the young man).
It was a very refreshing thing to see. I can't honestly say I would react the same way (probably not), but I wish I would have that amount of patience and courage. No one else in that train car (and it was a very diverse crowd) did anything to help the older (albeit drunken) man out...they all, including myself, shied away or moved farther from the situation. It just goes to show that people's perceptions and stereotypes of others (whether it be due to age, race, religion, etc.) mean absolutely nothing...
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Bear Down
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| Chicago Bears - NICE |
While I still think the Bear's are a Paul Bunyan step away from being a "great" team, I can't help but be excited about how the season is starting. There are enormous differences between great, good, solid, lucky, bad, and horrible teams...with that said, I can confidently say the Bears fall in the "good" range.
They realize their strengths and deficiencies and they cater to them. They play smart (maybe not always, but often enough) to win games...at least at the early stages of the season. Are they a playoff caliber team? Probably. The way the NFC currently looks there is no reason they should not be considered a wildcard (at minimum). Are they a potential playoff threat? Most likely not, but they are a team that plays with no memory. Meaning they take each snap without recollection of the previous. They play each down separately which fits them perfectly; Cutler is allowed (read: able) to gamble (which comes naturally to him), and the defense can continue to do the same, risking turnover opportunities for extra yardage. Though these traits may cost them a game or two in the regular season, they are also the same traits that allow them to win games they shouldn't, i.e. playoff games.
While the comparisons to the 2001 & 2006 Bears are evident, this team has their own identity (hopefully with a different outcome), and should be allowed to establish it without memories of past seasons.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Predictability, cause of Complacency?
There is something to be said about predictability; it's comforting, reassuring, and causes a routine based lifestyle, which, as a result, creates a comfort zone. For most, this is normally how life ends up. It's actually a quite good end result, as it promises many positive outcomes. Most people like the fact they have a steady job, good family/friends, the occasional excursion breaking up the monotony. But, for myself, I found this predictability as cause for concern.
Don't get me wrong, I did like (and still do) having a steady job, a great/loving family, unbelievable friends, and my fair share of adventures. Life was not boring, to say the least. But, it was getting a little too predictable. I felt as though my comfort zone had completely engulfed me, handicapping me to some extent. Again, not necessarily bad, but I would argue not completely healthy either.
I found myself not doing certain things just because they weren't part of the daily norm. Small things, big things…it didn't matter. Again, this may stem back to a motivation issue, but I think that the two are related to some degree. This was becoming increasingly frustrating. Not to say you can't be in your comfort zone and still be motivated to pursue creative and different actions, I just found myself (and many around me) struggling to do this (the "predictability" problem).
Further, and maybe even more frustrating, I found that those things which were part of the daily norm were becoming of less and less value. Not because I didn't love or cherish them, rather because I was not truly appreciating what I had. It all became so familiar and common; I was beginning to assume it would always be that way.
Now, however, I've completely removed myself from this established comfort zone…the old era of predictability is no more. Having moved to a completely new city (and country), I find everyday brings a new challenge, however small it may be.
I've found myself to be increasingly more efficient in my actions, wasting much less time doing nothing, as well as more creative and motivated, beginning some projects I had planned for months, if not years -- many things I've thought or planned on doing are actually coming to fruition…it's an exciting feeling when you realize you are learning and expanding.
I also find myself appreciating what I have much more (as opposed to dwelling on what is missing). Even the little things I had grown accustom to have a new value to them. Realizing this has revived my appreciation for many of the things that made up my comfort zone (not to sound cliché, but the little things in life are most valuable).
While I did go to an extreme, leaving everything that was familiar and "easy" a long ways away, I don't believe such a big change and decision is necessary for everyone. I do, however, feel that it is necessary and beneficial to step out of your comfort zone and not be afraid to shake things up.
It is a risk, and you ultimately can't predict how the outcome will play out. It definitely won't be easy, and I think that's why most are satisfied with a sense of predictability…knowing what's ahead definitely has a safe/homely feeling, and I think that feeling is what drives us (or at least did me) to complacency.
Isn't life supposed to be a blank map, as opposed to a planned route? Isn't the beauty of the journey not knowing where or how it will end? I'm not sure (most probably aren't either), and there probably isn't a right/wrong answer (at least no a singular one). Everyone has their own thoughts, creeds, beliefs, which is also part of the beauty of life. We are all free to make our own decisions (keeping in mind not to negatively affect those around us).
What I have began to realize, however, is that removing the aspect of predictability (however large or small) causes you to step out of your comfort zone, which forces you to work that much harder, try some new/crazy things, and ultimately learn something about yourself, which you may not have had the chance to discovery previously. Shattering the complacency of life by removing things that are familiar and close to you can be scary and tough, but it does bring, in the end, something I feel many people never realize or neglect; a sense of appreciation for everyone and everything that make up that comfort zone we are all so reluctant to leave.
Don't get me wrong, I did like (and still do) having a steady job, a great/loving family, unbelievable friends, and my fair share of adventures. Life was not boring, to say the least. But, it was getting a little too predictable. I felt as though my comfort zone had completely engulfed me, handicapping me to some extent. Again, not necessarily bad, but I would argue not completely healthy either.
I found myself not doing certain things just because they weren't part of the daily norm. Small things, big things…it didn't matter. Again, this may stem back to a motivation issue, but I think that the two are related to some degree. This was becoming increasingly frustrating. Not to say you can't be in your comfort zone and still be motivated to pursue creative and different actions, I just found myself (and many around me) struggling to do this (the "predictability" problem).
Further, and maybe even more frustrating, I found that those things which were part of the daily norm were becoming of less and less value. Not because I didn't love or cherish them, rather because I was not truly appreciating what I had. It all became so familiar and common; I was beginning to assume it would always be that way.
Now, however, I've completely removed myself from this established comfort zone…the old era of predictability is no more. Having moved to a completely new city (and country), I find everyday brings a new challenge, however small it may be.
I've found myself to be increasingly more efficient in my actions, wasting much less time doing nothing, as well as more creative and motivated, beginning some projects I had planned for months, if not years -- many things I've thought or planned on doing are actually coming to fruition…it's an exciting feeling when you realize you are learning and expanding.
I also find myself appreciating what I have much more (as opposed to dwelling on what is missing). Even the little things I had grown accustom to have a new value to them. Realizing this has revived my appreciation for many of the things that made up my comfort zone (not to sound cliché, but the little things in life are most valuable).
While I did go to an extreme, leaving everything that was familiar and "easy" a long ways away, I don't believe such a big change and decision is necessary for everyone. I do, however, feel that it is necessary and beneficial to step out of your comfort zone and not be afraid to shake things up.
It is a risk, and you ultimately can't predict how the outcome will play out. It definitely won't be easy, and I think that's why most are satisfied with a sense of predictability…knowing what's ahead definitely has a safe/homely feeling, and I think that feeling is what drives us (or at least did me) to complacency.
Isn't life supposed to be a blank map, as opposed to a planned route? Isn't the beauty of the journey not knowing where or how it will end? I'm not sure (most probably aren't either), and there probably isn't a right/wrong answer (at least no a singular one). Everyone has their own thoughts, creeds, beliefs, which is also part of the beauty of life. We are all free to make our own decisions (keeping in mind not to negatively affect those around us).
What I have began to realize, however, is that removing the aspect of predictability (however large or small) causes you to step out of your comfort zone, which forces you to work that much harder, try some new/crazy things, and ultimately learn something about yourself, which you may not have had the chance to discovery previously. Shattering the complacency of life by removing things that are familiar and close to you can be scary and tough, but it does bring, in the end, something I feel many people never realize or neglect; a sense of appreciation for everyone and everything that make up that comfort zone we are all so reluctant to leave.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Nights Out in London
I've noticed one common theme in my few nights out in London, actually more than one:
1. People like to start the night off pretty early...and usually with beer, as opposed to harder liquor.
2. The night begins at a pub. As the night progresses you move to more bar/club type establishments.
There are many more, but these are the two main themes, I'd say. So far, I've noticed it pretty typically to go grab a beer or two (usually ends up being ~6) immediately after work on Friday. Usually this is done with co-workers, but as the night progresses the crowd grows to include other friends, friends of friends, and the occasionally random.
It's actually a long night of drinking (starts at 5:30PM, ends no earlier than 2AM, if not later), but loads of fun. Since I'm still new to the city and still meeting people, I love running around "pub-hoping." So far, all of the places I've been to have been interesting in their own way. They've ranged from small pubs, to more typical American-style bars, to even a few night clubs. Just as how the venues vary, the people populating them vary just as much, if not more so. I've meet a wide range of people, from Spanish, Italian, to Australian and New Zealand (or Aussie and Kiwi as they're referred to here).
I'm excited to keep exploring and seeing what else this enormous city has to offer. Part of the intrigue is the fact that I don't really know what to expect, so it will definitely be a unique experience...
1. People like to start the night off pretty early...and usually with beer, as opposed to harder liquor.
2. The night begins at a pub. As the night progresses you move to more bar/club type establishments.
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| Green Man Pub - A common option to start a Friday night |
It's actually a long night of drinking (starts at 5:30PM, ends no earlier than 2AM, if not later), but loads of fun. Since I'm still new to the city and still meeting people, I love running around "pub-hoping." So far, all of the places I've been to have been interesting in their own way. They've ranged from small pubs, to more typical American-style bars, to even a few night clubs. Just as how the venues vary, the people populating them vary just as much, if not more so. I've meet a wide range of people, from Spanish, Italian, to Australian and New Zealand (or Aussie and Kiwi as they're referred to here).
I'm excited to keep exploring and seeing what else this enormous city has to offer. Part of the intrigue is the fact that I don't really know what to expect, so it will definitely be a unique experience...
Friday, September 24, 2010
Blast from the Past: Prague
I'd like to start recalling some of my past experiences, encounters, etc. I've had a lot of crazy things happen to me in the past, and I'm honestly a little worried of forgetting them completely or major/minor details. I know that may sound odd or stupid, especially since not that much time has past since most of them occurred, but my memory isn't quite the best (this due to hereditary reasons, probably too much alcohol consumption...and some other things). Although, my longterm memory is pretty good, so I should be alright...
Anyway, the first story I'd like to share is one from Prague. Two years ago I did some travelling throughout Europe and had an unbelievable time. Met a lot of people, saw a lot of amazing places, and definitely had my share of fun. So, here were go.
Prague - First Night
Towards the middle of my "EuroTrip" I decided to go to Prague. I've always heard great things about this small city, tucked away in Eastern Europe; how beautiful the city is, how nice the people are, the historically architecture and bridges...I was really looking forward to it. So, one day, I believe I was in Rome, Italy, I booked a cheap flight and hostel and took-off for the sunny city in the Czech Republic.
I remember arriving confused as hell. The airport wasn't enormous, but I was pretty tired, didn't realize how different the language was (although, later I found it surprisingly similar to Serbian in some regard), and had no idea how to get to my hostel...or central Prague for that matter.
That is one thing I loved about travelling alone, however. There was never any rush, no panicing, I was in complete control. I ended up talking to some baggage handler, who incidentally lived in Boston for a while (go figure), and he advised to take public transport into the city. This ended up being really cheap, which was great since I was on a budget, and easy as hell! The bus/metro combo was fast and efficient, plus I met some other travelers on the way...even picked up a number from an Aussie (in all honesty, she wasn't very cute, but was friendly and seemed really cool), which didn't matter anyway since I didn't have a phone.
My hostel was conveniently located right in the center square of Prague. It was literally a 2-3 minute walk from the Prague Astronomical Clock. Not only was the location great, but the place itself was awesome! Great common room, furnished with cool, modern furniture, a big flatscreen, and enough movies to last you a lifetime (not that anyone came there to watch movies).
I made it up to my room and found my new roommates to be just as cool and interesting as the hostel. Most of them were Australian (they travel in bunches) and a couple Americans (really cool couple from L.A.). I found that most people in the hostel were very artsy, laid back, and heavy drinkers...I randomly stumbled upon a goldmine.
It was getting rather late, and I was somewhat tired from travelling that day, but still wanted to go out...I mean why not? Fortunately, EuroCup 2008 was going on, and the city set up a huge viewing area in the center square right next to the hostel. So, several of my new friends (and Australian vegan-female, another Australian creeper-male, and the couple from L.A.) and myself decided to go by some cheap beers at a local grocery store and head to the square to watch the game with the rest of the city.
It was amazing! I forgot who was playing, but it didn't matter. There were so many people out there from all over the world, it felt like one big party. We were knocking back Czech Budweiser (Budweiser Budvar) like it was Czech law, and for all we knew it was.
As the game was nearing an end, I was getting ready to extend the night. My new friends, however, were not. How fucking lame! It was a huge let down (the draw back of travelling alone, I guess). So, as I pleaded to them to stay out for just one more drink, we headed back to the hostel. As we were getting near, I could see that the night was going to end far earlier than I would have liked. But (there's always a but)...
...I was handed another golden opportunity! Some smashed Englishmen randomly approached us, asking if we knew any good bars/clubs nearby. They, like me, wanted to keep the party going! I quickly responded that I had no idea where to go or what places were good, but if they wouldn't mind, I'd like to join them. They gladly excepted my self-invite, thankfully.
Note: Before we go on, let me describe this group. They were all in their mid/late 30's, several of them had sleeve tattoos, and all of them were shaved bald. In other words, they resembled the stereotypically soccer hooligan group.
So, we all piled into a cab and headed off to God knows where. As the cabbie was weaving through Prague traffic (which there really wasn't much of), I found out these lads where here for a bachelor party. What fucking luck! I now knew I was in for a good night.
We reached our destination and from the looks of it, it didn't appear to be anything special. Fairly large building, no lights or windows, small bar next door, and a very large doorman at the entrence. We paid cover to get in and walked down a long hallway into what I though would eventually end at either a dance floor or bar. It never did. The hallway just keep going. As we walked through this maze, which now seemed more like a hotel, it finally hit me. We were in a whorehouse...
I didn't really know what to think at the moment. I just kept walking, cracking the occasional joke about a passing fat-whore, which there were a shockingly high number of. Anyway, after about 5 minutes, me and a couple of the other guys decided that this really wasn't for us, so we left to the bar next door.
As we chatted about what just transpired, the rest of the lot slowly trickled in. Damn, did they have some stories about the whorehouse. The common themes: quick, expensive, sloppy. Anyway, we continued to exchange pleasantries until the wee hours of the morning, pounding beers and shots with no pause. It came to a point where the other guys started paying the bartenders and dancers at the bar to come dance at/on our table. It really ended up being a great and very entertaining night!
At around 5AM, I decided it was probably in my best interest to leave. So, I thanked the guys for the drinks and the memorable night out and made my way out. As I left, I figured it would be best to grab a cab home. So, I walked to the closest ATM with the intention of picking up some money for cab fair. Nope. My debit card was repeatedly rejected. What I failed to realize was, I never notified my bank that I would be travelling to the Czech Republic. My EuroTrip wasn't planned very thoroughly (or at all), so I basically decided on the fly where I would be going. Apparently, I didn't think I would be going to Prague.
So, where does that leave me...stranded somewhere in Prague, no bones (read: money), tired as hell, and no idea how to get back to my hostel (although I did have a good point of reference, the Astronomical Clock). So, after wandering around for a couple hours, crossing several bridges, and failing to find a city map, I started weighing other options. My first thought was to find a bench, lay down and rest for a while, wait until the morning and then find my way home. I quickly realized how retarded that sounded. Not only was that dangerous, more importantly it would have been uncomfortable as fuck to sleep on a bench. So, I walked around a little longer...and guess what I stumbled upon...a fucking city map! Damn, was I relieved.
After surveying the map for a couple seconds, I realized something very quickly. I was about 10 minutes from the Astronomical Clock...no more than 12 minutes from my hostel. I was frustrated at first, but after some thought, more relieved than anything. I made the walk back, and was lucky enough to see a beautiful sunrise over this majestic city. The streets were still empty and quite, so it actually turned out to be a great way to cap off a crazy evening.
As I walked into the hostel, I couldn't help but laugh to myself a little...fucking Prague.
Anyway, the first story I'd like to share is one from Prague. Two years ago I did some travelling throughout Europe and had an unbelievable time. Met a lot of people, saw a lot of amazing places, and definitely had my share of fun. So, here were go.
 |
| Prague Castle -- I took and edited this photo |
Towards the middle of my "EuroTrip" I decided to go to Prague. I've always heard great things about this small city, tucked away in Eastern Europe; how beautiful the city is, how nice the people are, the historically architecture and bridges...I was really looking forward to it. So, one day, I believe I was in Rome, Italy, I booked a cheap flight and hostel and took-off for the sunny city in the Czech Republic.
I remember arriving confused as hell. The airport wasn't enormous, but I was pretty tired, didn't realize how different the language was (although, later I found it surprisingly similar to Serbian in some regard), and had no idea how to get to my hostel...or central Prague for that matter.
That is one thing I loved about travelling alone, however. There was never any rush, no panicing, I was in complete control. I ended up talking to some baggage handler, who incidentally lived in Boston for a while (go figure), and he advised to take public transport into the city. This ended up being really cheap, which was great since I was on a budget, and easy as hell! The bus/metro combo was fast and efficient, plus I met some other travelers on the way...even picked up a number from an Aussie (in all honesty, she wasn't very cute, but was friendly and seemed really cool), which didn't matter anyway since I didn't have a phone.
My hostel was conveniently located right in the center square of Prague. It was literally a 2-3 minute walk from the Prague Astronomical Clock. Not only was the location great, but the place itself was awesome! Great common room, furnished with cool, modern furniture, a big flatscreen, and enough movies to last you a lifetime (not that anyone came there to watch movies).
I made it up to my room and found my new roommates to be just as cool and interesting as the hostel. Most of them were Australian (they travel in bunches) and a couple Americans (really cool couple from L.A.). I found that most people in the hostel were very artsy, laid back, and heavy drinkers...I randomly stumbled upon a goldmine.
It was getting rather late, and I was somewhat tired from travelling that day, but still wanted to go out...I mean why not? Fortunately, EuroCup 2008 was going on, and the city set up a huge viewing area in the center square right next to the hostel. So, several of my new friends (and Australian vegan-female, another Australian creeper-male, and the couple from L.A.) and myself decided to go by some cheap beers at a local grocery store and head to the square to watch the game with the rest of the city.
It was amazing! I forgot who was playing, but it didn't matter. There were so many people out there from all over the world, it felt like one big party. We were knocking back Czech Budweiser (Budweiser Budvar) like it was Czech law, and for all we knew it was.
As the game was nearing an end, I was getting ready to extend the night. My new friends, however, were not. How fucking lame! It was a huge let down (the draw back of travelling alone, I guess). So, as I pleaded to them to stay out for just one more drink, we headed back to the hostel. As we were getting near, I could see that the night was going to end far earlier than I would have liked. But (there's always a but)...
...I was handed another golden opportunity! Some smashed Englishmen randomly approached us, asking if we knew any good bars/clubs nearby. They, like me, wanted to keep the party going! I quickly responded that I had no idea where to go or what places were good, but if they wouldn't mind, I'd like to join them. They gladly excepted my self-invite, thankfully.
Note: Before we go on, let me describe this group. They were all in their mid/late 30's, several of them had sleeve tattoos, and all of them were shaved bald. In other words, they resembled the stereotypically soccer hooligan group.
So, we all piled into a cab and headed off to God knows where. As the cabbie was weaving through Prague traffic (which there really wasn't much of), I found out these lads where here for a bachelor party. What fucking luck! I now knew I was in for a good night.
We reached our destination and from the looks of it, it didn't appear to be anything special. Fairly large building, no lights or windows, small bar next door, and a very large doorman at the entrence. We paid cover to get in and walked down a long hallway into what I though would eventually end at either a dance floor or bar. It never did. The hallway just keep going. As we walked through this maze, which now seemed more like a hotel, it finally hit me. We were in a whorehouse...
I didn't really know what to think at the moment. I just kept walking, cracking the occasional joke about a passing fat-whore, which there were a shockingly high number of. Anyway, after about 5 minutes, me and a couple of the other guys decided that this really wasn't for us, so we left to the bar next door.
As we chatted about what just transpired, the rest of the lot slowly trickled in. Damn, did they have some stories about the whorehouse. The common themes: quick, expensive, sloppy. Anyway, we continued to exchange pleasantries until the wee hours of the morning, pounding beers and shots with no pause. It came to a point where the other guys started paying the bartenders and dancers at the bar to come dance at/on our table. It really ended up being a great and very entertaining night!
At around 5AM, I decided it was probably in my best interest to leave. So, I thanked the guys for the drinks and the memorable night out and made my way out. As I left, I figured it would be best to grab a cab home. So, I walked to the closest ATM with the intention of picking up some money for cab fair. Nope. My debit card was repeatedly rejected. What I failed to realize was, I never notified my bank that I would be travelling to the Czech Republic. My EuroTrip wasn't planned very thoroughly (or at all), so I basically decided on the fly where I would be going. Apparently, I didn't think I would be going to Prague.
So, where does that leave me...stranded somewhere in Prague, no bones (read: money), tired as hell, and no idea how to get back to my hostel (although I did have a good point of reference, the Astronomical Clock). So, after wandering around for a couple hours, crossing several bridges, and failing to find a city map, I started weighing other options. My first thought was to find a bench, lay down and rest for a while, wait until the morning and then find my way home. I quickly realized how retarded that sounded. Not only was that dangerous, more importantly it would have been uncomfortable as fuck to sleep on a bench. So, I walked around a little longer...and guess what I stumbled upon...a fucking city map! Damn, was I relieved.
After surveying the map for a couple seconds, I realized something very quickly. I was about 10 minutes from the Astronomical Clock...no more than 12 minutes from my hostel. I was frustrated at first, but after some thought, more relieved than anything. I made the walk back, and was lucky enough to see a beautiful sunrise over this majestic city. The streets were still empty and quite, so it actually turned out to be a great way to cap off a crazy evening.
As I walked into the hostel, I couldn't help but laugh to myself a little...fucking Prague.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Hipsters
First thing about this video, the song is fantastic! The artist and song are Yolanda Be Cool & DCUP - We Speak No Americano and please follow that link to the real video (it's actually been around for a while, and has been quite popular throughout dance clubs in both Europe and the States). The video above shows two hipsters "hand-dancing" (whatever the fuck that is) along to it. I cannot even express my anger after seeing this clip...I couldn't even watch the entire thing!
Hipsters are becoming all the rage and far to common of a breed these days, and I for one am incredibly annoyed. Their false sense of being artistic and aloof is very (read: VERY) annoying...where the hell is this newfound attitude coming from?
Hipsters are nothing more than unemployed bums with some money left over from the job they probably got laid off from over a year ago and lots of free time to do "creative" things such as "hand-dance." WHAT THE FUCK...that's not being creative, that's just being a retard.
Don't get me wrong, there are people who are genuinely artistic, aloof, and crafty/creative...I actually know a bunch, they're great people. The difference between them and the new-age hipster; they've been like this their entire lives...not acting, just being themselves. I don't have a problem with this.
But, I do have a problem with people acting a certain way to grab attention...or going overboard to prove to others they are something, when in fact they are the complete opposite.
Go do something meaningful with your free-time. Don't just parade around clapping your hands and calling it art or creativity...it's not...it's a waste of time (notice I didn't say talent). Volunteer, look for a job, contribute to society in some way, do whatever you like as long as it results into something which betters either yourself or the community. Last I checked, hand-dancing wasn't a too sot after talent...so I'm not exactly sure how you're helping yourself there, maybe hand coordination I guess. As for helping the community...maybe you can start a training regiment for hipster wide receivers, what the fuck do I know.
Anyway, that's just my opinion on the matter. If you're a true artist, I have no qualms with you. I actually admire your work (whatever it may be) and think that it is much needed in any society. But, if you're trying to be artistic/creative (ref: see above) just for the hell of it, you have some free-time/bored...please stop. It's not cool.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Dreams & Sleep ... and Possibly Memories?
Lately I've been having a lot of vivid and memorable dreams, which is pretty uncommon for myself. Most of the time I can't remember anything (just like night's out on the weekend). In addition to the dreams, I'm having a real tough time falling asleep, which is far less uncommon.
As far back as I can remember, I've had issues sleeping. Most of the time it's because I have all sorts of thoughts constantly running through my head. In the past they were mostly about sports, school, girls, etc. Now, they vary greatly (although sports and girls remain the common denominator). It's honestly a crap-shoot up there. One minute I'll be thinking about something I read about or saw on TV, the next I'll be thinking about a friend from elementary school that I haven't heard or seen in over a decade.
It's actually getting a little frustrating. I hate going to bed early, but there comes a point when I look at the clock and become pretty depressed about having to wake up in 4-5 hours. It's not fun. What's worse, I feel like my mind and body get more energy as the night goes on. I'll be tired early in the evening, but feel like a pussy if I go to bed early, so I stay up. Not smart. I end up awake for hours...most of the time doing pointless shit.
Anyway, that is all somewhat normal, and I'm pretty used to it. The dreams, however, are new. I'll get a good dream every once in a while, which I assume is pretty standard for everyone. But lately, I've been getting dreams regularly. They're not "scary" or anything...it's just the people in the dreams that intrigue me. Old friends, college acquaintances, random basketball teammates...it's honestly all across the board. In addition, I've been making some questionable decisions and actions while in dreamland...it's weird...nothing gross or disgusting, just flat out retarded.
I'm not really sure if they mean anything (the dreams, that is) or nothing. It has provided pretty good thought-banter during the morning commute, though. It's funny going over my dreams in my mind while on the train. Sometimes I can't remember if it was a dream or a memory, so I might actually be fooling myself. Wouldn't it be fucked up if I had a dream, that was in fact a memory? Can that happen? I've heard of people dreaming of events that haven't occurred yet, sort of like seeing in the future. But can you dream in the past? Can you're subconscious recall memories that were either suppressed or "blacked-out" from the past? I know I've had more than a handful of nights out that were spotty, at best, in my memory at the time...what if they are surfacing now in the form of dreams?
Sorry if I confused you, kind of confused myself at the moment...probably a good point to stop...
Anyway, I'm not too concerned with this, more so interested in what's causing these dreams (or memories) to suddenly start flowing. I don't mind them, but if I'm going to dream, I hope my subconscious can start making them a tad more interesting...toss in some more action, explosions, fast-cars, and please more hot girls (although that's a completely different type of dream, I guess...hahaha).
As far back as I can remember, I've had issues sleeping. Most of the time it's because I have all sorts of thoughts constantly running through my head. In the past they were mostly about sports, school, girls, etc. Now, they vary greatly (although sports and girls remain the common denominator). It's honestly a crap-shoot up there. One minute I'll be thinking about something I read about or saw on TV, the next I'll be thinking about a friend from elementary school that I haven't heard or seen in over a decade.
It's actually getting a little frustrating. I hate going to bed early, but there comes a point when I look at the clock and become pretty depressed about having to wake up in 4-5 hours. It's not fun. What's worse, I feel like my mind and body get more energy as the night goes on. I'll be tired early in the evening, but feel like a pussy if I go to bed early, so I stay up. Not smart. I end up awake for hours...most of the time doing pointless shit.
Anyway, that is all somewhat normal, and I'm pretty used to it. The dreams, however, are new. I'll get a good dream every once in a while, which I assume is pretty standard for everyone. But lately, I've been getting dreams regularly. They're not "scary" or anything...it's just the people in the dreams that intrigue me. Old friends, college acquaintances, random basketball teammates...it's honestly all across the board. In addition, I've been making some questionable decisions and actions while in dreamland...it's weird...nothing gross or disgusting, just flat out retarded.
I'm not really sure if they mean anything (the dreams, that is) or nothing. It has provided pretty good thought-banter during the morning commute, though. It's funny going over my dreams in my mind while on the train. Sometimes I can't remember if it was a dream or a memory, so I might actually be fooling myself. Wouldn't it be fucked up if I had a dream, that was in fact a memory? Can that happen? I've heard of people dreaming of events that haven't occurred yet, sort of like seeing in the future. But can you dream in the past? Can you're subconscious recall memories that were either suppressed or "blacked-out" from the past? I know I've had more than a handful of nights out that were spotty, at best, in my memory at the time...what if they are surfacing now in the form of dreams?
Sorry if I confused you, kind of confused myself at the moment...probably a good point to stop...
Anyway, I'm not too concerned with this, more so interested in what's causing these dreams (or memories) to suddenly start flowing. I don't mind them, but if I'm going to dream, I hope my subconscious can start making them a tad more interesting...toss in some more action, explosions, fast-cars, and please more hot girls (although that's a completely different type of dream, I guess...hahaha).
Monday, September 20, 2010
Motivation
Lately I've been finding it extremely difficult to motivate myself. I'm not exactly sure why, I just know that during the course of any day, I have a million thoughts and ideas racing through my head. At instances, I'm excited and genuinely prepared to pursue them, but for whatever reason this almost never comes to fruition.
It's actually becoming quite frustrating and depressing. I feel as though most people experience this (all talk, no action). I hate to think of myself as "one" of those people...dreams never realized or materialized. I'm just unsure of how to go about changing this.
I've tried to plan and schedule my days, allowing time to pursue some of these interests, but it never happens. I either get too easily distracted or something comes up. I can't use work as an excuse currently, because I'm not overly preoccupied at the moment.
Which brings me to another point...I'm finding myself less and less motivated to perform at work. While I do a good job and complete what is necessary either ahead or on schedule, in my head I know I could do more. I think the reason for this (at least at work) is because I don't find my job too enthralling. Don't get me wrong, I truly appreciate my job and I realize not many people are this lucky, to be on a career path such as I (stable job, nice pay, incredible opportunities for travel/networking)...maybe I just envisioned myself doing something more exciting or meaningful.
Anyway, I just find myself less motivated than before. It's frustrating to think I was much more outgoing and productive several years ago. While I strive to change this, I see that it is slowly becoming a much steeper uphill battle. Though I hate to think that it is the solution, maybe establishing some sort of routine is what I need. Although repetitive actions do get monotonous, they aren't necessarily bad.
I figure by forcing myself to be productive daily (or on some regular basis), I can overcome this lack of motivation. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens...some change is definitely needed though, I honestly can't continue going through the lethargic motions as is the current status...
It's actually becoming quite frustrating and depressing. I feel as though most people experience this (all talk, no action). I hate to think of myself as "one" of those people...dreams never realized or materialized. I'm just unsure of how to go about changing this.
I've tried to plan and schedule my days, allowing time to pursue some of these interests, but it never happens. I either get too easily distracted or something comes up. I can't use work as an excuse currently, because I'm not overly preoccupied at the moment.
Which brings me to another point...I'm finding myself less and less motivated to perform at work. While I do a good job and complete what is necessary either ahead or on schedule, in my head I know I could do more. I think the reason for this (at least at work) is because I don't find my job too enthralling. Don't get me wrong, I truly appreciate my job and I realize not many people are this lucky, to be on a career path such as I (stable job, nice pay, incredible opportunities for travel/networking)...maybe I just envisioned myself doing something more exciting or meaningful.
Anyway, I just find myself less motivated than before. It's frustrating to think I was much more outgoing and productive several years ago. While I strive to change this, I see that it is slowly becoming a much steeper uphill battle. Though I hate to think that it is the solution, maybe establishing some sort of routine is what I need. Although repetitive actions do get monotonous, they aren't necessarily bad.
I figure by forcing myself to be productive daily (or on some regular basis), I can overcome this lack of motivation. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens...some change is definitely needed though, I honestly can't continue going through the lethargic motions as is the current status...
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Weed Beer
So, as you may have guessed by the title of the blog (but not the postings thus far), I do enjoy to throw back a cold one every now and then. I've always enjoyed beer. Light ales, lagers, stouts...doesn't really matter, I always enjoyed trying new beers. Although I do have my preferences (usually heavier lagers or stouts -- beers that actually have flavor), I'm always up for trying something new.
A couple of years ago when I was travelling through Europe, one of my most enjoyable experiences was trying the local brews at each stop. I loved comparing how each country and culture interprets this popular drink. I also loved experiencing the social aspect of it. It's actually pretty shocking how many cultures base their free-time around this bubbly-barely based concoction.
Now, having moved to the UK, a sort-of mecca for beer drinking enthusiasts, I'm making it a point to try as many different types of beers (and ciders) as possible. It seems that at the center of any social, business, or sporting event, you can find beer. It's funny to see how serious it is taken here (funny in a good way). This can be directly reflected in the quality of the beer drank here.
Case in point, every beer or cider I've tried thus far has been good...in it's own way. I even encountered an organic liquor store, filled from top to bottom with organic beers! Yea, I know, pretty odd...but good to see in a way. Although I think it is largely a marketing ploy, I bought several different kinds to try.
One, specifically caught my eye (pictured), for obvious reasons ;) Anyway, after trying the beer, my suspicions were re-affirmed. Although the beer tasted great, very flavorful, crisp, and bold, I can't say I wasn't slightly disappointed. It was clearly marketed in this manner for a reason...drawing consumers into the mystic, forbidden allure of marijuana. Was the "drug" used during the brewing process? Maybe, maybe not...I honestly couldn't tell (could not taste it, no side-effects). All I know is the over-the-top bottle (Jamaican color-scheme and large green leaf) and beer were made to intrigue people, and that's exactly how I got roped in.
Was I disappointed I dropped $4 for a single bottle in a grocery store...not at all. That's part of the excitement of trying new things, never know what to expect. Will I try it again? Unlikely. Next time I'm aiming for a weed-beer combo, they'll be taken in separate doses... ;)
Monday, September 13, 2010
Work
Today was my first day working in London. Couple quick observations, the work culture is much less PC and much, much more open and social. Swear words are part of the normal vocabulary, and off-the-cuff conversations with colleagues can vary from professional conversations regarding work, to whores who give blow jobs in bathroom stalls at clubs.
Honestly, I embrace and love the openness of this work culture. People generally seem happier and the office as a whole seems much more lively. Don't get me wrong, people are very professional when it comes down to getting work done and communicating with clients, but they realize that there isn't a need to be strict and uptight the entire work day. I feel as though this enhances the work environment for everyone, as people are free to relax and be themselves. I'm excited to jump in and begin working on all sorts of projects and getting to know my colleagues better. It will definitely be a new experience, one with challenges of course, but I feel that is something I need at this point.
As I begin to get more involved with work, clients, and the overall culture, I look forward to see how I will grow and learn from it all. It will be interesting to see what adjustments I will have to make, and how I will adapt to the situations thrown at me. It will, undoubtedly, be quite an adventure!
Honestly, I embrace and love the openness of this work culture. People generally seem happier and the office as a whole seems much more lively. Don't get me wrong, people are very professional when it comes down to getting work done and communicating with clients, but they realize that there isn't a need to be strict and uptight the entire work day. I feel as though this enhances the work environment for everyone, as people are free to relax and be themselves. I'm excited to jump in and begin working on all sorts of projects and getting to know my colleagues better. It will definitely be a new experience, one with challenges of course, but I feel that is something I need at this point.
As I begin to get more involved with work, clients, and the overall culture, I look forward to see how I will grow and learn from it all. It will be interesting to see what adjustments I will have to make, and how I will adapt to the situations thrown at me. It will, undoubtedly, be quite an adventure!
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