Not Bad at All

        Toady was an all-around nice day. I didnít find a job, but I did come closer: interviewed at a executive headhunting firm to do data integrity. Itís not half as impressive as it sounds: basically, Iíll type (if I get it). Star Wars is a great thing: it may have helped me get a job. After an OK interview, we had a long, detailed discussion about the merits of Episode II: my interviewer had been at the premier, too. Unemployed? See Star Wars.
        After one interview and the strenuous work of calling temp agencies and getting their email addresses, I reverted to tourism. The British Museum was amazing: tons of ancient artifacts. The neatest was definitely the mummies, although it does seem kind of disgusting that one of civil societyís prized cultural institutions has looking at dead peopleís bodies as a highlightÖ
        I am now mobile: bought a bike. Itís a road bike, meaning skinny little tires, so Iíll spend more time fixing flats than riding and more money buying new tires than I would simply taking the Underground. Itís not that the subway was unbearable, itís just not very interesting. Yeah, I see lots of Brits, but theyíre not very eager to socialize on the subway. So I sit there, usually falling asleep and ending up on the wrong side of the city. Donít get me wrong: I havenít learned how to navigate or anything. I still get lost on my bike, but now I can get lost while awake and much faster.
        Went to see Fatboy Slim DJ at a British club last night: the Turnmills, or something like that. A flatmate got me on the guest list because of his job. Basically, his night job is skateboarding around London trying to take pictures of celebrities. He seems to like it, but it sucks that he has to work a shit day job to make ends meet. Anyways, the club wasnít really my thing but it was OK. I canít and donít dance much at all, but I was ahead of the curve by standing there and bending my knees every once in a while. Iím going to have to agree with the flatmate: British people are, on average, much worse dancers than Americans. Particularly strange was one girl: what she was doing could barely even pass as bizarre aerobics. If youíve ever seen me dance, that Iím saying something about it should really show how horrible it must have been. Headed home awhile after I got so tired that I just stood in the middle of the crowd falling asleep. Fortunately, my flatmate knew how to use the buses and I didnít have another hour-long London wondering episode. All told, a good day; after it, I feel comfortable here.

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