your thoughts

If you had to choose between:

a) London, Serbia and Croatia
or
b) London, Ireland and Scotland

What do you choose? I think I am leaning toward the former. Simply because it promises to be more fun, it's more adventurous, cheap beer, and the streets will be filled with supermodel-esque Eastern European women looking for a man with a passport. And I, thank you very much, aim to fill that need.

Also, I think trip B can be done at any age, but roaming like a vagabond around Serbia and Croatia really only seems like something for the young (and yes, I still place myself in this category!)

Your thoughts?

Bachelor Party Weekend

I haven't been to too many bachelor parties, but those that I have attended I have really enjoyed. It's like for a day or so you are free to be as reckless as you want. The last one involved lots of booze, strippers, gambling and a nice round of golf. This one promises much of the same, except less of the golf and more of the skiing.

I went to a walk-in clinic today, which turned out to be more of a sit-down clinic. After waiting for 2hrs, I went in for a 5 minute consultation after which, and I was expecting this, he said it might be a virus (no? really?!) in which case it'll last a couple of days. If it lasts longer I need the meds, which am loathe to start taking, seeing as though I plan to be urinating vodka over the weekend. And I am not positive, but I don't think that'll mix that well.

I will post pics and stories upon my return...in other news I am heading over the pond in April. Anyone who knows any great places in Scotland, Ireland please let me know. Appreciated.

cheers

Post 201

Well kids, this is post #201. I must say that while my blogging routine is quite spotty at the least, to have lasted 201 posts is an accomplishment. There are many times when I open up this page, take a look at the crap I have written and ask myself why I bother. Well it's because sometimes there are posts that I enjoy writing - posts that I deem worthy of being read, that are witty, smart or cathartic. Granted there are perhaps 5 in 200 that I can look back at without wincing, I guess it's the writer's curse. It's almost therapeutic. There is an irony in blog writing though. At first you write to an anonymous audience, and it gives you carte-blanche to truly open up and expose yourself to the judgement of a group of people who you likely will never see or meet. And that's kind of fun, it allows you to go "crazy". However, once you start desiring more feedback you open the blog up to your family and friends, and suddenly there's a limit to what you can write or who you can write about.

So, if there is an irony, it's this - it's the people whose opinions you most care about whose input suddenly makes you less likely to open up...whether it be fictitious or not. Not sure if that makes much sense.

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I joined Facebook 2 weeks ago or so, and was skeptical. People said it was addictive but I said "Bullshit! You're just a weak, obsessive with nothing better to do!" Two weeks later and it is the website I most look forward to visiting every day. It's got me in its bloodthirsty hooks. It's a new-age creator of obsessives in the way email was - I may have a message, I must check it! Must check email, must check facebook. What if there's a message? What are people doing that I don't know about?

Facebook is like a virus, a virus that brings out the voyeur in all of us. It burrows into the deep-seated obsession we have with our friends lives, and makes us all the online equivalent of Big Brother. Facebook is saying "Feel free to look into my life at any point you wish" and make your judgement. I can look at your friends and their friends. I can see who's dating who, who's chatting with who, and who's posted an ugly picture that I can make fun of. It's simple yet brilliant. Who hasn't wanted to catch up with that old high school friend without the hazards of the e-mail route, and the discussions that end awkwardly after 2 e-mails? Let's keep in touch? Yeah right. On facebook you drop a line on his/her wall and they do the same on yours. No awkward ending. No need to get in touch with the person again. It's another perfect FB connection.

And that's time.

Am I a bad guy?

I consider myself to be polite and considerate. I'm the guy who holds open doors for people, even though it might take them a few seconds or so to reach the door. I'm the guy who stops to pick up items that have been carelessly dropped by someone walking by on the street, and offer it back to them with a smile. I try to refrain from talking badly about people around their back, even if everyone else is. I prefer to give constructive feedback rather than to criticize. I realized today, however, that for all my good intentions I am not perfect.

On the subway home from work, space is at a premium, to say the least. I've seen sardines who've been less cramped. To avoid the masses I walk the extra few minutes to a subway stop that guarantees me a seat on my long journey home. I strategize over which waiting area will give me the optimal chance of obtaining the said seat. Now we've all been in the situation where an elderly person walks in to a crowded subway car and looks in vain for a seat. Common decorum dictates that we give up our seats to the elderly, and rightly so. I knew today that such a person had entered the car because the people sitting around me glanced up and then immediately focused on their books, mp3 players etc... as if they had just seen Satan himself. Suddenly it's the crowded elevator syndrome again and the game of keeping your eyes on anything but the person besides you had begun.

For a brief moment, I considered exiting my comfortable seat and doing the right thing. Then I considered the fact that we hadn't made eye-contact. I was, after all, staring intently at my video iPod. How could I be expected to give up my seat if I hadn't seen the old granny? That would just be ridiculous. And surely old people don't take long journeys on the subway - she must be getting off at the next stop...no point giving away my seat at this point, absurd. Besides, what would I do with my bag? And I am sure that the walker is taking all the pressure off her frail legs, giving her my seat would be a total waste, she's probably more comfortable standing up, the old bag.

At this point, the guilt is building up and I realize I am quite a jerk. So I motion to get up, but it's too late. A man twice my age has offered granny the seat, which she takes gratefully. I sit down again, embarrassed. So the question becomes: is the final action the only thing that matters, and does it overrule my selfish thoughts? Or am I simply a bad guy for not responding immediately with the "good" option?

Ciao.

Another great European night at Anfield....

i hate titles

Mid-life crisis, according to the ever present wikipedia:

"A mid-life crisis is an emotional state of doubt and anxiety in which a person becomes uncomfortable with the realization that life is halfway over. It commonly involves reflection on what the individual has done with his or her life up to that point, often with feelings that not enough was accomplished. The individuals experiencing such may feel boredom with their lives, jobs, or their partners, and may feel a strong desire to make changes in these areas."

I heard something interesting the other day that I thought I'd share. Apparently there is a notion that the traditional "mid-life crisis" is occurring at a much younger age than the much advertised 40-50 year age bracket. This is occurring (I submit) because a rapid increase in technological innovation is leading to people maturing much earlier than they did in the 70's and 80's. It makes sense - kids are growing up much faster than ever before, and are much more world-weary than their parents were at similar ages. Hence the "mid-life crisis" symptoms occurring much earlier than expected.

It's too late to finish this thought....perhaps tomorrow.

Mighty Mighty Reds

It's past 1am, and I am back home after braving the elements to show up for a 10pm soccer game. I went despite knowing of the horrible combination of snow, sleet and freezing rain waiting to ambush me on the ice-rink like roads, and my better judgement telling me the game would likely not even happen. So, the game did not happen - the other team didn't show, but at least we were able to have a practice game, which while fun is not worth waking up dead tired on a Friday morning. But I am somewhat of a soccer maniac, I can't get enough. It is my poison of choice. And as far as vices go, it's not a bad one.

Tomorrow morning Liverpool take on Man Utd and if you can drag yourself out of bed at 7:45am on a Saturday then you will be treated to one of the best atmospheres in all of sport, bar none.

Have a good weekend all.