8 1/2 Months

That's how long it been since I was last paid. Today changes all that however so now I can begin the long journey to pay off 8 months holiday. Anyways, I've decided that to help grease the economies wheels it's actual better to be in debt and hence have decided to buy a bike. I can thus ride to work instead of pissing around on public transport. Me thinks I will also need a decent rain coat however given that England's summer is indeed all it's cracked up to be.

Today also heralds in my two week 'working in England' anniversary. It's been a bit weird doing office hours again but I guess one must pay for one's frivolities somehow.

Next week sees me, Chia and some of Chia's friends jetting off to Denmark to attend the Roskilde Festival which should be the ducks guts.

I also went out to a nasty, dirty rock pub in Camden called 'Worlds End' last Saturday which turned into a rather fun/drunken/expensive night. The next day I then went to an exhibition that Chia had recommended which was actually pretty good. It was presented in an old multistory car park and the artist punched out three floors FULL of 2-6 meter canvases and were, on the whole, fairly evocative and interesting.

Other than that it's been workworkwork so not too much to report I'm afraid. I'll try to make sure we get some good photos at Roskilde to liven up my ever more dull blog.

I've been dodging gyms and vegetables....

...but embracing beer and sleep deprivation.

Canada is a stand up place. America is more of a sit down place. Preferably with an over sized sugar laden drink. And a burger.

The last two weeks have flown by in a haze of hazy company policy, haphazard product training and general alcohol derived haze. One thing that can be said for the new company is that they do know how to treat their employees. Every night of last week we were treated to good quality food and all you can drink drink. The 8AM mornings were a bit of a killer and where I a more career driven man I wouldn't have got drunk every night. My Thai-derived steel liver has stood up admirably to the punishment however and I started almost every session bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

Last week culminated in a weekend with MattyP. Or, as KT very correctly states: Big M. After heavy fog delayed my flight out of Montreal our plans for a boozy Friday night were cut short (or long I suppose) by a 3AM NYC arrival. When I finally got to Mats we were both wreaked and promptly passed out.

The next day started with promise when we heading down to Mats work to use the gym. The pace changed up a gear when we discovered they had a boxing gym and proceeded to beat the snot out of each other for the next hour. Even this already high level of excitement was again raised when we wondered down to the BBQ festival which several Manhattan blocks had been roped off to facilitate. The afternoon was then spend kicking back in the sun with a few beers before mat decided to have a kip and I wondered down to a bar where I was promptly set upon by the local wildlife. Mat came and saved me a few hours later thankfully when we then adjourned to a local pool hall and later to a house party. The evening/morning was topped off by a 5AMish appointment with the local Native American street-meat vendor who had a sign on his cart proudly proclaiming "From Atlantis, with love".

The next morning was a bit of a write off and after a quick wonder around NYC it was back on a train/plane and back to Montreal.

The next week was more training in Ottawa then off to Toronto for a trade show. This resulted in a rather random night in an 'after hours bar' which was kinda like some of the armpits in Kings Cross or Brunswick back home. It was a fun night/week though and good to get to know some of the people I work with in a more trashy environment.

So I'm finally back in the UK and after Carly's house party Saturday night where I caught up, very briefly, with KT it's back to reality and my first official day of work begins tomorrow.

Finally, happy birthday to my 1 year old niece Laura. If only she were old enough to read....

Of Montreal

I'm here, but not without incident it must be said. Yesterday I do believe Simon, the God of small obstacles, was paying close personal attention to me. The rot started Saturday morning where I was suppose to meet a new college at a train station and share a taxi to the airport at 6AM. Having had a big Friday I didn't set my alarm properly and was only awakened on the 3rd (somewhat frenzied) call at about 6:45 wanting to know where the hell I was. Having not packed already I randomly stuffed objects into a bag and jumped into a cab. I just made the plane in addition to making a wonderful first impression with my new college.

I was hang over for most of the trip and then a balls-up at JFK airport saw me having to take a flight 4 hours after the guy I was traveling with to Montreal before realising that all I had to go on for the Hotel was 'The Novotel'; no address, no booking number and no telephone number. Add to this neither of my SIM cards seem to roam on Canadian soil and I was drifting up the creek.

I then caught a bus into town and waited around for ages for a supposed shuttle bus to take me to the airport. This never eventuated so I tagged along with a German tour group and got on their minibus and convinced the driver that I was with the group but merely staying at a different hotel. Anyway, turns out the city Novotel is not the one I'd been booked into so I had to get a cab back out to the burbs. I was then unable to withdraw cash from either my Australian or UK banks so had to struggle by on hotel conversion rates from Stirling. The cab driver then didn't know where he was going and we drove around asking people for the next hour. Finally made it here and watched ice hockey with the locals in the bar before I passed out.

Anyway, other observations of note; who would've thunk French Canadians speak French? And all the signs are in French? Apart from this rather crippling trait however the local people, to a person, seem to be really nice. This is in stark contrast to the Americans that I met at JFK who all seemed to have sticks inserted in uncomfortable locations.

The upside to all this is I can now say I've been inside John F. Kennedy.* It was rather bloated, a little smelly and full of American spirit; just like I always imagined.

I'll leave you with this this track from 'Of Montreal' which I quite like. Try to ignore the stupid sylable extensions the lead singer throws in and it ain't a bad track.

*International Airport