On Casual Racism and Dating For Losers

As we're set to enter the month of March, my future here in London is still up in the air. And that's okay. It's pointless to worry about these kind of things, so I've decided to just carry on and enjoy my time here in the Big Smoke. I'm starting my new job with Bleacher Report UK tomorrow, so these past couple of days I've been too busy to worry regardless.

Exciting times, new jobs and all. The British government aren't easy to work with so instead of exploring London I'm spending most of my time looking into papers and studying up on the world of cricket.

A new job is one thing of course, but part of trading countries is meeting new people. And while my old friends are doing Golden Miles (you bastards) I'm currently stuck with a bunch of collegues I talk to on Skype (so far I've met one of them. Callum, he's a Northener. And a twat). And as this is the 21st century, social apps and datingsites are the way to go. I've never been a particularly big fan of datingsites (or technology in general. To quote Hank Moody: "Analog guy in a digital world") and I've always had more fun doing things the old fashioned way.

That said, some of the new apps are gold. Down is just nasty, for instance. I wasn't planning on installing it as it would be pretty pointless regardless (I just moved countries, it makes zero sense) but a friend of mine wanted to test it and she talked me into it (the app, not what it leads to). Girls, please don't be offended. Call it a social experiment and realise we don't even share timezones. And for the love of God, do not install that app...

Tinder is my personal favourite, mainly because it works. I don't know what it's like back at home but here in London the userbase is massive. I got some feedback on which photo's to upload (felt kind of weird) and surprisingly enough, the matches started coming. So far I've come across several enjoyable conversation partners (and one or two girls that really need help) and it's made my experience of London slightly more fun. Somehow I feel like I should be ashamed to admit that, but then I realise the number of foreigners on Tinder is quite high. And quite frankly, what do you do when you're new to a place and don't know anyone? Crash a bar on your own?

London is a great city for reading. When you use the tube you see tons of people with books, in contrast to where I'm from where most people seem to have their heads stuck in their mobile device. Here, I think it's about 50-50, which is absurd when you think about it. People actually still read here. There's bookshops everywhere and some of them are dirt cheap.

For instance, I was in this charity shop yesterday and bought copies of the Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Jane Eyre, the manuscript of Star Wars Episode IV and the hilarious Bored Of The Rings for 3 pounds! Unfortunately, some old geiser had his eyes set on the Complete Works as well and it all resulted in one of the most confusing experiences of my life: he called me "*expletive* Aussie trash."

First of all: I've never been anywhere near Australia. I realise I may have some Australian hidden somehwere in that funny accent of mine, but it usually only comes out when I'm in the company of Aussies or I'm talking surfing. Not in charity shops.

Then there's the weird experience of seeing someone old enough to remember the Battle for Hastings using language like that. I want to applaud the dinosaur for getting with the times (I enjoy the occasional bad language as well) but it still made for a very awkward situation.

Overall, I have to give the old **** credit for coming up with the most creative name I've ever been called. And I guess you're not really a Londoner until someone hates you for no particular reason. Tomorrow I might stand on the left side of the escalator, just because I can.

Life doesn't stop, whether you like it or not. We'll see how all of this plays out. I guess you could say I'm managing here and you wouldn't be too far off. My head still wanders back home quite a bit, so y'all better remember you're right here with me. And I know full well that even if all of this fails (crushing me beyond repair in the process) I'll still have some of you waiting for me back home. And I'll always have a home. That little bit of goodness took me the better part of a decade to realise.

I'm starting to appreciate I was shaped by my town.

This is one of the greatest cities on the planet. It's alive, and I'm going to enjoy being a part of it for as long as I can. But I'll be back. That story isn't finished yet.

Take care guys.


Song of the day: Explosions in the Sky - Your hand in mine
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzIK5FaC38w
(This is from the Friday Night Lights OST. If you've never watched that show, start. You have no idea what you're missing. It takes a few episodes to grow on you, but if you fight through that you'll end up watching one of the greatest network drama's ever created. No hyperbole)

On Bad News and Worse Mojo

The next time you hear someone say things will get better, run for it.


My dad raised me to believe things never magically get better. In this life, you have to work for the things you want. Life's a struggle, a fight we face every day. You will lose some battles. You will inevitably fall. Hardship will be felt, and how we deal with the negatives will ultimately define who we are. It's easy being there when the good times are rolling. But when things get rough, we find out what kind of men we really are. And as long as we keep plugging away, things will turn around. It's always darkest before dawn.

He's old school, that father of mine. Blue collar. Much wiser than I give him credit for. Hell, there are times I think he can see the future.

And I'm starting to think he's dead wrong on this one.

When life knocks you down, you get right back up, get yourself together and keep moving forward. But what if the hits keep coming? What if things keep piling up and every single day is just a little worse than the one before?

At what point do we give up? When do we accept things aren't getting better? Are we allowed to accept failure and turn our minds to damage control?

I'm assuming you've figured out things aren't going so well at this point. I'm not getting into specifics here. Suffice it to say that I've been receiving some bad news. As in, every single day, ever since I got here. This trend has been completely in line with what happened to me all of last year and exactly the reason I decided to come to London in the first place.

Normally this wouldn't worry me all that much. I'd freak out for about 10 minutes, send someone a panic-text, get my sh*t together and realise there's always a way out. Just keep plugging away and we'll be alright. If that hasn't worked since 2012, it's only because I haven't been trying hard enough.

Except this time things are different. Things were supposed to be different, but not like this.

Some obstacles are too big to overcome. Sometimes we get knocked down so badly, there's simply no getting up. Sometimes things happen and there is no answer other than admitting defeat and starting over.

Which might prove problematic in this case. I already tried that, and now they won't let me.

-------------------------------------

I like metaphors, and I like my classics. Reaching a crossroads and setting a path that might determine the rest of your way, that kind of thing.

I've always been scared of making the wrong choice. Not that that would make me special; I guess we all are at times. A personal favourite of mine has always been to stand on the edge of the pavement and spend eternities contemplating every possible route and all of the consequences my actions might have. I already know there is no back-tracking, which is something I learned the hard way.

And a couple of weeks ago I took a major step forward. I chose a path. If I'm being completely honest, it wasn't the path I wanted to take. But I was no longer fine with just standing still. It wasn't working for me. And after I took a good look at the other directions and saw what they could (and probably would) lead to, I settled on the only direction that made sense.

Taking this step was huge for me. These past few weeks have been a blur, and there's been some good, but it's mainly been bad. And that was okay. It was calculated, anticipated. Keep plugging. Keep moving forward.

But the bad news kept coming, and now it seems there's a good chance it might have been all for naught. Interestingly enough, I might truly be following in my father's footsteps this way.

I spent years standing at those crossroads before finally settling on a path. There is no going back. I can't, and not just because some bridges have been burned. I just can't do all of that again.

For more than a year I put up a half-smile and told everyone we all have bad spells. While friends were dying, relatives were struggling and people were leaving I shrugged it off and told myself it's just a part of life. I was dying inside, but there was no point in burdening others with whatever I was going through. Even in my darkest hours I kept looking ahead. Things will get better. We just keep moving forward.

Right now it's all falling apart. The one thing that kept driving me, the one thing I had to look forward to. Everything else is already gone, and now it feels like I'm losing my fresh start. And there is something very, very wrong.

I should be panicking, frightened, scared out of my mind. At the very least I should be worried, and knowing myself (25 years of experience on the subject) I should be an emotional wreck. And I'm not. It's just empty. There's nothing there. No sadness, no panic. Maybe it's because I haven't slept in days. Maybe it's just acceptance. A defeatist attitude perhaps, except I'm not sad about it. Not even a little bit.

I'm fine with all of this, and I shouldn't be. A lifetime of observation tells me this should worry me. I'm fine with all of this, ergo I'm not fine.


Things will get better. Except maybe they won't.


Song of the day: Todd Snider- Can't complain
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxYcIBp2W-w

On Chapters and New Beginnings

Hi mom, hi dad.

I'm not much of a blogger.
I've tried, on several occasions, but the art of blogging eludes me. I lose interest quickly and somehow never manage to put together a numbers of sentences that together form a coherent, interesting account of who I am. And seeing how I get paid to write, none of that makes any sense. I think the idea of writing about myself confuses me, which is absurd. We Always write about ourselves, even if we don't want to. Stories are just letters we never dared to mail.

But as I spend half of my time living abroad and the people back at home would like to know what I'm up to, I better give it another go. Don't get too invested; it won't last.

Hi. My name is Gianni. I'm 25 years old and a week ago I packed my things and moved to London. If you're reading this, you should re-think what you're doing with your life (can you really not think of a better use of your time?) and you probably already know who I am, so I won't elaborate too much on who I am and where I'm from. There will be plenty of time for that.

So, London? It's really not all that different from home. Except it is. There's a number of vital differences, things you see if you start looking (having too much time on your hands will do that for you). For instance, people are nice. Like, really nice. These might be the happy goggles talking as I'm new to this place, but even cashiers smile and act polite. The Indian guy selling me the best curry I ever had, the bank clerk that overheard I was a sports writer and wanted to talk footy: people seem genuinely nice.

They're also terrible at driving. Now I know I've only recently managed to get my hands on a driver's license myself and am in no place to Judge anyone, but I've seen more bad driving in a single week of London than six years of Cote Landaise. And Frenchies aren't exactly great drivers either.

Food's quite cheap, transport's pretty expensive. I live in White City, which is right in between Loftus Road (QPR gamedays are noisy) and Westfield Shopping Centre. The Central Line will take me to the heart of London and all of its tourist traps in under 20 minutes, Sheperd's Bush Library is right around the corner. Rent is manageable (for London standards) and the international mix of flatmates makes for some interesting food recipes.

The backdrop may be quite different, but life itself is quite similar to the one I was leading two weeks ago. I've only been here for a week and I like this place, but it's clear as day that this is not my home. And I actually miss home. The more things change, the more they stay the same and with age comes a reluctance to accept change as a good thing. All of this feels similar to the trips I took to the Carribean and France in the past: temporary jobs rather than permanent relocations.

People are doing their very best to make me feel welcome though. Most of my collegues are just moving to London as well (and we'll be meeting up later this week) and seem hell-bent on making me feel at home. I won't start my new job for another two weeks and outside of my flatmates I've yet to truly meet new people, so it's far too early to draw any conclusions. As of right now, I like London just fine and even though my first week in The Big Smoke has been far from perfect (and even dreadful and difficult at times) I think that right now, this is where I need to be. And that's the best I can do.

So as you can see: the more things change, the more they stay the same. I'm a nostalgic, and I was never particularly good at letting go. I won't let something as trivial as the North Sea change that.

Happy birthday, little brother. We'll be together soon. In the meantime, here's a quote:


“It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.”

― John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

I think you'll like Steinbeck. Start with Of Mice and Men. And don't waste your time missing me. I think of you, every day, and I find solace in the fact my brother thinks of me too. We lose sleep over what we've lost, but we haven't lost each other.

 

Song of the day: Telegraph Ave - Childish Gambino  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPQCra8FEew

 

Take care everyone.