Now that I've been back in the US for almost 3 days, I can safely say that I was right in saying that our change sucks. The coins are so damn thin. Also, it's impossible to know what kind of change you'll need to make an exact purchase because of sales tax. I don't mind paying the extra 7.9% or whatever it is; just include it in the damn listed price, please.
Props to Apple once again for providing excellent customer service and freaking me out at the same time. I brought my laptop into get the lip of my slot-loading CD drive fixed so that it would actually allow CDs to pass through its maw - the Apple guy first told me that such cosmetic (bah!) damage wasn't covered by warranty and to replace the entire bottom casing would cost over $600. After dropping this shot of reality like a pigeon over a Ferrari, he watched my internal sputterings with pleasure for a few seconds before suggesting that he take it into the back room and try to fix it with Manly Tools. After about 30 seconds he returned with a fully-functioning CD lip. I wonder if it's company policy to begin by presenting the worst-case scenario and then slowly suggest more appealing alternatives, or if it was merely a technique he used to stay amused at work. In either case, Tom was happy to seek revenge on the Apple Store staff for their amusements by asking questions at them about speculative HD-DVD/Blu-ray compatibility and watertight keyboards.
Re: the posts below:
Avril Lavigne - I actually saw her recently in a movie - she surprisingly turned up in a role in Fast Food Nation, as an artfully disillusioned college-age PETA-wannabe, and was very believable. Who knew.
London economy- According to the illustrious Tim Kidd, the City of London (its financial district; the rest of it is technically Westminster) is actually the world's largest and richest corporation, with something like £2 trillion moving through the city every day. Yowza.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Friday, May 4, 2007
I was just resting my eyes
I suppose I should reassert my sovereignty over this blog before I'm overrun by a certain diminutive proletariat.
My time on this strange island is indeed coming to a close, and I've spent the past couple of weeks engaged in wrapping-up activities, like finals exams, final projects, final papers, packing, and combining strange food remnants together into meals that Chef Frankenstein might have prepared had he been equipped with a foreboding kitchen rather than a laboratory and had he actually been a chef.
Things I'll Miss About London:
1. Change: I'm talking about coins here. I was originally wary of any country that would affix value to an object with seven sides - every American knows that heptagons are not to be trusted. Americans who watch the Daily Show also know by now that their fabulous dollars are worth only a paltry half a pound, and that despite this massive advantage, above a certain price Londoners are still content to pay generally the same number of pounds for something that Americans would pay in dollars - £8 for a paperback book that runs $8 in the States, for example, or £9 for a movie ticket. Below the threshold of £3-4, however, the pound suddenly remembers its weightiness, allowing me to bask in the glory of 50p sodas, delicious £2.50 falafel, and giant mangoes at 2 for £1. Normally these prices would be merely reasonable, but since British coins include £1 and £2 denominations, a pile of change is suddenly useful for something other than packing into a sock for use as a crude bludgeon. There's a deceptively thrifty feel to paying for an entire meal with the coins you dug out of that tiny extra pocket in your jeans that isn't useful for anything else. I just hope that those new dollar coins are doing better than those Sacajawea coins they tried a few years ago.
2. Lots of Buildings: Buildings with things in them. As a Hamilton native, I'm impressed by any place that manages some kind of food service after 9:30 pm. London also supplies subway service, bus service, theatre service, mall service, iMax film service, and lots of other services. Plus, everything is within walking distance, regardless of the actual space between points. In the US, "walking distance" is defined by how far towards your destination you can go until you hit an area of grass. Once grass starts getting involved, the traveler has obviously left civilization and immediately regrets not bringing along his car, camel, or giant riding hare. In London, not only is there very little grass to be seen, the Tube system folds space (if not time) like a cosmic laundromat worker, making any destination seem attainable. The exceptions are the parks - it is physically impossible to walk across Hyde Park, and the sole purpose of Green Park is to discourage invading armies from attacking Buckingham Palace when they see how far they have to walk in order to get there.
3. Pubs: They're just better than bars, and not just because they serve alcohol to 18-year-olds. It's all about the image; if you ask someone what their plans for the night are and they reply "I'll probably go down to the pub," it sounds like a nice, social evening out. Receive the reply "I'll probably go to a bar," and suddenly they become a degenerate alcoholic, the whites of their eyes yellowing even as you look at them. The picture of them sitting casually at a table sipping a gin & tonic changes instantly to their slouching form propped between a rusty barstool and a smudged beer glass, trying to remember if he's already vomited today. A pub is a classy establishment that usually includes a long slab of something upon which drinks are served. A bar is a long trough for drunks to huddle around, occasionally housed by an old basement or converted crack den.
4. Vocabulary: This is really most noticeable when riding the Tube; when the train arrives at a station near a landmark, a recording notifies passengers that they may "Alight here for the British Museum." In America, "alight" is something you hope that you can offer that girl at the end of the bar so you can initiate a conversation that might lead to a one-night stand but nothing more involved than that because you'd never date a filthy smoker, that's disgusting. This announcement is followed by another, which suggests that passengers "Mind the gap." Simply stunning. Despite these formidable thesaural skills however, the word "Exit" seems to escape the city; their attempts to distinguish the door left them with the phrase "Way Out." Nobody's perfect.
5. Taza: Remember that £2.50 falafel I mentioned? This is where it came from - about 30 seconds walk from my flat. Legendary.
Things in London I Could Do Without:
1. British Bacon: It's at least three times as thick as American bacon. You might think that that sounds good, but you'd think wrong. Americans can achieve a similar substance using household items, and a razor. Using the razor, slice off someone's ear. Fry it in a pan, while simultaneously directing your household blowtorch at it. Once the edges are black and the middle is starting to turn pink, eat.
2. The Pound: Loose change is all well and good, but once I start dealing with paper money the British economy decides to remind me who's boss and invites my bank account to a nice seafood dinner without ever planning to phone it back. London devours American money as if it were bacon - delicious, American bacon.
3. Single-serving Grocery Stores: Maybe they're trying to deal with their increasing obesity problem (2nd in the world, behind Guess Who), but I've had it up to here with grocery stores acting like all shoppers are flight attendants. As an American, I was already familiar with the small bag of chips - the kind you'd find in a vending machine, hanging by a measly corner off of that useless wire turny-thing. I was also familiar with the large bag of chips, which costs about the same amount in the supermarket as the small bag cost in the vending machine. British people are also familiar with the small bag, but I think they got a little confused when they heard mention of a large bag of chips. Here a large bag of chips is six small bags inside a single large bag. Even larger bags contain up to 14 small bags, sometimes in a variety of flavors including Cheese & Onions, Roast Chicken, and Prawns (I am not making this up). The rest of the products found at these markets all follow the same vein. A Wegman's in this area would make it seem like Willy Wonka had decided to take his business in a bit of a more healthy direction.
4. That One Window: You know the one I'm talking about. It's loose in the frame and the wind is rattling it as I type this. I'm aware that I live on the 5th floor. Regardless, my instincts simply do not allow me to leave a rattling window unchecked for ninjas.
My time on this strange island is indeed coming to a close, and I've spent the past couple of weeks engaged in wrapping-up activities, like finals exams, final projects, final papers, packing, and combining strange food remnants together into meals that Chef Frankenstein might have prepared had he been equipped with a foreboding kitchen rather than a laboratory and had he actually been a chef.
Things I'll Miss About London:
1. Change: I'm talking about coins here. I was originally wary of any country that would affix value to an object with seven sides - every American knows that heptagons are not to be trusted. Americans who watch the Daily Show also know by now that their fabulous dollars are worth only a paltry half a pound, and that despite this massive advantage, above a certain price Londoners are still content to pay generally the same number of pounds for something that Americans would pay in dollars - £8 for a paperback book that runs $8 in the States, for example, or £9 for a movie ticket. Below the threshold of £3-4, however, the pound suddenly remembers its weightiness, allowing me to bask in the glory of 50p sodas, delicious £2.50 falafel, and giant mangoes at 2 for £1. Normally these prices would be merely reasonable, but since British coins include £1 and £2 denominations, a pile of change is suddenly useful for something other than packing into a sock for use as a crude bludgeon. There's a deceptively thrifty feel to paying for an entire meal with the coins you dug out of that tiny extra pocket in your jeans that isn't useful for anything else. I just hope that those new dollar coins are doing better than those Sacajawea coins they tried a few years ago.
2. Lots of Buildings: Buildings with things in them. As a Hamilton native, I'm impressed by any place that manages some kind of food service after 9:30 pm. London also supplies subway service, bus service, theatre service, mall service, iMax film service, and lots of other services. Plus, everything is within walking distance, regardless of the actual space between points. In the US, "walking distance" is defined by how far towards your destination you can go until you hit an area of grass. Once grass starts getting involved, the traveler has obviously left civilization and immediately regrets not bringing along his car, camel, or giant riding hare. In London, not only is there very little grass to be seen, the Tube system folds space (if not time) like a cosmic laundromat worker, making any destination seem attainable. The exceptions are the parks - it is physically impossible to walk across Hyde Park, and the sole purpose of Green Park is to discourage invading armies from attacking Buckingham Palace when they see how far they have to walk in order to get there.
3. Pubs: They're just better than bars, and not just because they serve alcohol to 18-year-olds. It's all about the image; if you ask someone what their plans for the night are and they reply "I'll probably go down to the pub," it sounds like a nice, social evening out. Receive the reply "I'll probably go to a bar," and suddenly they become a degenerate alcoholic, the whites of their eyes yellowing even as you look at them. The picture of them sitting casually at a table sipping a gin & tonic changes instantly to their slouching form propped between a rusty barstool and a smudged beer glass, trying to remember if he's already vomited today. A pub is a classy establishment that usually includes a long slab of something upon which drinks are served. A bar is a long trough for drunks to huddle around, occasionally housed by an old basement or converted crack den.
4. Vocabulary: This is really most noticeable when riding the Tube; when the train arrives at a station near a landmark, a recording notifies passengers that they may "Alight here for the British Museum." In America, "alight" is something you hope that you can offer that girl at the end of the bar so you can initiate a conversation that might lead to a one-night stand but nothing more involved than that because you'd never date a filthy smoker, that's disgusting. This announcement is followed by another, which suggests that passengers "Mind the gap." Simply stunning. Despite these formidable thesaural skills however, the word "Exit" seems to escape the city; their attempts to distinguish the door left them with the phrase "Way Out." Nobody's perfect.
5. Taza: Remember that £2.50 falafel I mentioned? This is where it came from - about 30 seconds walk from my flat. Legendary.
Things in London I Could Do Without:
1. British Bacon: It's at least three times as thick as American bacon. You might think that that sounds good, but you'd think wrong. Americans can achieve a similar substance using household items, and a razor. Using the razor, slice off someone's ear. Fry it in a pan, while simultaneously directing your household blowtorch at it. Once the edges are black and the middle is starting to turn pink, eat.
2. The Pound: Loose change is all well and good, but once I start dealing with paper money the British economy decides to remind me who's boss and invites my bank account to a nice seafood dinner without ever planning to phone it back. London devours American money as if it were bacon - delicious, American bacon.
3. Single-serving Grocery Stores: Maybe they're trying to deal with their increasing obesity problem (2nd in the world, behind Guess Who), but I've had it up to here with grocery stores acting like all shoppers are flight attendants. As an American, I was already familiar with the small bag of chips - the kind you'd find in a vending machine, hanging by a measly corner off of that useless wire turny-thing. I was also familiar with the large bag of chips, which costs about the same amount in the supermarket as the small bag cost in the vending machine. British people are also familiar with the small bag, but I think they got a little confused when they heard mention of a large bag of chips. Here a large bag of chips is six small bags inside a single large bag. Even larger bags contain up to 14 small bags, sometimes in a variety of flavors including Cheese & Onions, Roast Chicken, and Prawns (I am not making this up). The rest of the products found at these markets all follow the same vein. A Wegman's in this area would make it seem like Willy Wonka had decided to take his business in a bit of a more healthy direction.
4. That One Window: You know the one I'm talking about. It's loose in the frame and the wind is rattling it as I type this. I'm aware that I live on the 5th floor. Regardless, my instincts simply do not allow me to leave a rattling window unchecked for ninjas.
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