What Are They Thinking?

I can't even believe I have to take time from procrastinating writing my thesis to address this. I'm very busy, especially now that I've found American cereals and proper salsa, but this problem needs to be addressed. Guys, it's the year 2008, and some things are just not appropriate work attire, especially in a professional industry. I understand we're engineers, so we get some slack, but we've taken far too many liberties with the dress code and it's time to get our act together. For starters:

1) No ties with any cartoon characters. Even if it is transformers.
2) Cargo pants are not fancy.
3) Crocs have no business at a business. Unless you work at a flower shop or a hospital.
4) Shoes with no backs are for hippies, and hippies dont have jobs.
5) If you've had a shirt longer than you've had your job, it's time to part ways.

Those are the few that come to mind, but I swear I have seen some crazy things here. I can't describe how ridiculous it is when you go to a meeting and some jackalope American is wearing a tazmanian devil tie, sitting next to the Brit in the nice pinstripe suit with cufflinks. It's making us look bad, and we really don't need any help in that department. Honestly, the only thing that could be worse is if someone wore a NASCAR jacket with with a speedo and some berkenstocks and their black tube socks pulled all the way up. That's essentially the next logical progression.

Gordon Ramsay

Tonight we embarked on a culinary journey that made me realize I had never truly tasted food before. You know that feeling you get at the end of Field of Dreams? It was like that, with every dish. It was restaurant Gordon Ramsay, the flagship eatery of Britain's top chef. You yanks might know him from his Hell's Kitchen TV series, and I he has restaurants in LA, Florida, and NYC.

A night with Gordon Ramsay starts 2 months out. When you decide you want to dine here, you call them and get a reservation 2 months from that date. And if you call after noon, you may as well wait until the next day because you're too late. We arrived about 30 minutes early, and found they hadn't quite opened to the public. We strolled around the block before coming back, still 15 minutes early. They let us in, and thus began our 3 hour dinner odyssey.

You basically have two options: the 3 course a la carte menu, or the 7 course prestige. Being very prestigious people, we obviously went for the latter. Over the next two and half hours, we were served:

-Pate with duck confit
-Lobster and salmon ravioli
-Grilled turbot with citrus sauce
-Grilled lamb (duck for Lori)
-Tiny pear creme brulee (surprisingly the weakest part of the meal)
-Strawberry and champagne soup (think orange julius with pop rocks...yeah, awesome)
-Chocolate tower with hazelnut and ginger (best dessert ever)

Even before dinner they gave us two tiny appetizers (they called them "amoosh boosh", or something): lobster and salmon crispy roll, and scallop with brocolli puree. Both excellent. And even after the cous de gras, the chocolate tower of awesomeness, they brought over some strawberry ice cream on dried ice, chocoloate truffles, and turkish delight (which was not as delightful as the name would suggest, but still tasty).

Overall, the experience was fantastic. The staff was incredibly attentive, perhaps too much so when we were the only ones in the restraurant. And no trip would be complete without a visit from the man, the myth...GR himself. He popped in for about 30 minutes, and walked through the dining room and talked to some of the guests. Not us however, but it was probably because he was intimidated by our blinding bueaty. He seems like a genuinely nice guy, and he sure knows his way around the kitchen.

So if you're ever in London, and want to blow a week's pay on a single meal, book yourself a table. My advice is don't look at the prices, just go for it. It's more than dinner, it really is an experience. Like looking into the face of God and having him say, "You are my most wonderous creation."

BBQ!

A few months back we bought this tiny, disposable charcoal grill. I'm not sure why, since we don't have a backyard or deck, or really anything that is suitable for hosting fire. But for £1.99 how could we go wrong? Well it sat in the cupboards for months, but today the weather was fantastic, the exact kind of weather that begs you to grill. So we took the cellophane wrapping off, grabbed a jug of safety water, and headed out to the stoop to burn some meat.

Now, I'm not sure what restrictions the Royal Borough of Hammersmith and Fullham place on grilling, but the building is like 100 years old and is made of solid concrete and tile so I wasn't worried. And I figured if the bobbies showed up I could bribe them with some delicious teriyaki chicken. Luckily it never came to that, though one neighbor did call our idea quote, brilliant, end quote.

Here's some pictures of our setup (notice the aforementioned safety water, and the flames are 2 feet from all dwellings):

Photo Madness

Yesterday we bid farewell to Lori's mom after a whirlwind week of a visit. Highlights included a heads up battle between Persian and Indian food (which I believe India won handily), Wicked, Portobello market, Thames Festival, Jack the Ripper walk, Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and walking tour of Oxford. Whew, that's a lot. All captured for your viewing pleasure here and here.

Interesting

Everyday I live in England I see or learn something new that re-blows my mindhole. For example, yesterday I learned the British Flag is just the English and Scottish flag overlayed on one another, with a variation here and there. And awhile back, I saw this whilst doing my grocery shopping:



I'm not even sure what to make of this. Man tissue? Granted, the box was double the size of normal non-man tissue. But still, what exactly is it for? Of course I picked up 3 boxes and keep them on the coffee table, lest anyone question my manliness.

Has Anyone Seen My Identity?

This week I became 1 of nearly 9,000,000 Americans who will fall victim to identity theft this year. My debit card, which I used as my lifeline out here, was ripped off somehow (somebody got the number and PIN without taking the card itself). It's been happening to a ton of us at work, but we can't find the common thread or place that might narrow it down.

You wanna know the worst part? So whichever soulless bastard that perpetrated this crime against me, they must have sold the number. Because I got a call from my bank saying there was some activity in Mexico that seemed suspect so they put a block on the card. A couple days later, I see $5 at "El McDonalds - Ciudad de Mexico" followed by nearly $350 in charges at some department store.

But it doesn't end there. Since I can't visit my bank in person, I have to send a notarized claim to them. Last I checked (and yes, I did check) notaries here in London run about 40 quid, which equates to about 70 of your US dollars right now (in their defense, they do use old school wax seals like in the days of yore, which is awesome). Then I have to mail it back, which cost me another $10, if I choose the 22 day around-the-world via falcon option. So now I have to spend $80 to get back my $350!? Am I the only one who sees the problem with this?

So to whomever stole my card, I hope you enjoyed your big mac and JCPenney clothes. Eat it up friend. Because you know what? They don't sell big macs and Arizona jeans in hell.

Paris

As promised, the pictures from Paris have been posted. Let me just say this: I love Paris. And let me tell you what I love most. The language. French is such a beautiful language, I am envious of those who can speak it fluently. Everything sounds so regal and refined. Even the word for "turd" is probably something really elegant and classy. And the people, despite what you read and hear, were quite nice. It probably helps that they only wanted my money, but even people on the metro and along the streets were polite.

I won't go into the boring details of how awesome it was. We did the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame (you have to climb the steps if you go, well worth the hour wait in line), the Louvre, and the Catacombs. We decided after climbing two tall structures, there was no need to do the Arc. We also did a cruise down the Seine, though I would not put it at the top my "things you must do in Paris" list.

The catacombs, however, would be on that list. It's this approximately mile-long stretch of tunnels underground where up until the last century the city buried a lot of the dead. We're talking nearly a mile of femurs, skulls, tibias, and the whole lot. Kind of freaky at first, but some dude back in early 1800s went through and organized them all instead of just haphazardly throwing them in. For example, in one section the skulls are arranged in a heart shape, and in another spot you find them shaped as a cross. Not for the faint of heart or anybody who is uber-afraid of small spaces. But for everyone else, well worth 7 euro for a couple hours of entertainment.

So yeah, Paris rocked. I would go there again and again, no problem. I really do love that city. The final tally for this trip is below:

Number of outfits packed by Lori for 3 night trip: 7
Number of crepes eaten: 4
Number of times offered tiny eiffel tower key chain: 127
Number of tiny eiffel tower key chains purchased: 1
Number of times I said "Sacre bleu!": 11
Number of times Lori laughed: 0
Size, in square feet, of hotel room: 120
Height, in feet, of Eiffel Tower: 986
Number of steps up to second platform of Eiffel Tower: 692
Number of steps up to top of Notre Dame: 380
Number of steps down into catacombs: 180
Length, in days, Mike's thighs were on fire: 2

Breakthrough

So today was a milestone day for me here in the UK. For 5 months I have steadfastly held by my conviction that I would never operate an automobile over here. We generally have enough able and willing bodies to drive our work cars when we go off site, but today I found myself in the predicament of being the only capable person. Mind you, I haven't driven a stick shift in years, and our company cars are Volvos and Audis.

But I saddled up that pony and took the reigns, and I must admit I did good. In fact, I rocked. It was a little strange shifting with my left hand, but the clutch and gearbox are situated the same as the U.S. so it's not bad. With the exception of a tiny curb (barely noticeable, really) I avoided all pedestrians, fixed objects, and road signs, which some of my co-workers cannot say the same.

On a quick, non-sequitur note: Paris was awesome and I'm halfway through touching up the photos. I should have them uploaded this weekend.