Christmas party

Yesterday I received my first Christmas party invite. Or rather, christmas lunch that will go on for a bit. I have had chrissy parties before of course, but not in England. And they are (in)famous in England. From my understanding, everone gets fuelled with enough booze to start their own Wetherspoons. If held in or near the office, you should have your bum photocopied. At least one person pukes in a plant, en someone will tell the boss what the team really thinks of him (my boss is safe from that I think, he's a great guy). A (dutch) friend of mine even managed to fall asleep in the loo on her first christmas party here and woke up in a locked and empty bar. Thank god for fire extinguishers and large windows (minor detail is she left her purse behind but she picked it up a few days later and noone ever suspected anything). Ours is on the 18th of December, so we can recover in the boss' time (Friday) as well as our own (Saturday and possibly Sunday). It will be a theme party. Belly dancing may be on the cards, which would be amazing. I have several colleagues whom I'd love to see making an arse of themselves belly dancing. Quite a few sleeps still, but exitement has kicked in already. Watch this space!

ps: anyone who hasn't heard of the british christmas parties: get a copy of the christmas special dvd of The Office - bloody brillant

My Sunday morning

Close to my home is this lovely place, overlooking the Thames and with the Gherkin in the background. On its left: dim sum resto. On its right: Italian resto's and the Four Seasons. Not bad!

Lacking inspiration....

....but here's a very useful word of warning re Panda Beer from my mate Dale. Well, useful if you ever go to Syria that is. Damn I wish I could write like him (then again, he is a journo and I am a finance nerd. Surely he must be wishing he as as good a finance nerd as I am. Or maybe not...).

"I’ve discovered the world’s worst beer. Panda Beer – which presumably gets its name from the fact that if you have more than one you wake up the next morning with two black eyes – has 11 percent alcohol content and leaves an aftertaste not unlike that created by the liquor distilled from used tyre rubber. I doubt that last tyre-rubber-liquor drink actually exists but if it did I would suggest that a ready market for it is available in Syria, although the life expectancy of its enthusiasts can’t be guaranteed. Holy hell, what a truly awful beer. I’ve consumed a fair number of the world’s endangered animals in beer form (Elephants, Tigers, Lions) but the Panda is the first to actually make me want to purchase a large calibre rifle and shoot its namesake. In fact, if I were a Panda, I’d get some legal representation and sue the manufacturers for undermining the good name of Pandas everywhere."

Speed dating

Never done it, never will. It sounds like an odd acitivity to me, but each to their own of course. London saw an interesting speed dating event last week I must admit. Apparently, Adelaide (South Australia) has a shortage of single females, and a surplus of jobs. So the local government decided to find some yummy South Australians (home to the mullet, let's hope they found some guys with proper haircuts), and 40 single pommie girls, and bring them together in a speed dating event in London. Haven't heard or read of any emigration of those yet, but will keep you updated of course. ;-)

Knackered

What a rollercoaster of activities and emotions.... One of my best friends visited me Friday to Sunday. Loads of talks as she is going through a rough time, nice dinners, Les Miserables and a long walk along the Thames. As soon as I'd dropped her off at Can Wharf, Frank was there to visit. Another walk along the Thames, a walk in Greenwich park and dinner. Twenty past nine and we were both in bed, too tired for words. Monday morning I left early to go to the Dam and I only just got back. Lovely being back in the home office. I got the best welcome possible, everyone was so excited to see me! And likewise of course. Dinner with some of the guys from the team, and an intensive meeting today.

And on the way home from the airport I had the best taxi ride ever. The old cabby was so super super friendly. He asked where I worked, and when I said London Bridge, he immediately knew the company. 'You guys are the only ones making money at the moment!' he said. Then we got into a whole discussion whether accountant or consultant was a more interesting role, both agreeing it was defo the latter. Almost home, he asked me if I was from Northern or Southern Ireland. He was not amused when I said I was Dutch, he really felt ashamed. I assured him I took it as a compliment, and really, the Irish are such lovely people you can barely insult someone with that. Finaly he gave in. We talked a bit more about accents and dialects and I was home. We then talked for another five minutes, until I really, really wanted to go inside. A lovely end to a lovely trip.

Lousy joke but funny for insiders

A/W

Autumn/winter. Buzzword in the clothing sections of the papers and magazines. And I laaaaaaaaaave A/W 08 daaaaahlins. Pussybows, checks and loads and loads of cardies. And in an attempt to do my bit for the UK economy, I went slightly nuts in French Connection today. A blue pussybow check shirt (two hits in one go), a very soft grey cardy with gorgeous buttons and a dark grey pussybow cotton dress. Just above the knee, but very suitable for work with leggings and heels (bearing in mind that my standards are still well below those of your average City girl). And the best thing: the dress is a size 38. Not that I've gone skinny all of a sudden, but the sizes at French Connection are very friendly for the mind. A nice thing when you're one a weightloss mission.

Thames Festival

What it was exactly, I wasn't sure, but I decided to go to the Thames Festival nonetheless. On day three of a four day hangover* (caused by impromptu drinks with colleague on Thursday, planned drinks with colleagues on Friday and visit of an Australian friend on Saturday...Monday was to be day four), I decided to be good and go to aerobics in the morning (still suffering from the previous arvo's pilates), and headed to the Southbank of the river afterwards.

Four hours later, I still didn't know what the Festival was. Food and drinks, that's for sure. Loads of foodstalls selling jerk chicken, sushi, curries, wraps and what have you. Some living statues and some jazz music. Jewelry and bags for sale. A rowing competition in old vessels (won by old men, I might add). The whole concept of the Festival never became clear. But who cares? It was warm, sunny and bright, I had my camera with me, and I had dinner and a boat trip to look forward to.

The free boat trip was organised by the Chiswick council (west London). I stumbled upon it online and booked it for my friend Chantal and me. We caught up over a quick bobotie-dinner and headed for the boat. Interesting commentary, interesting gin tonics and good company. Hadn't seen the city from the water before, let alone my office. We docked close to the London Eye to watch the Thames Festival (whatever that may be) fireworks. Loads of oohs and aahs. God, I love fireworks. Shortly before midnight I went to bed, to wake up to day four of my hangover the next day. The day described below. Probably for the best the head was a bit hazy.

* these days caused by five drinks only, I am either lacking practice or getting old. God forbid it's the latter.

Wth??

I have not had a stranger Monday morning. Ever. To come into work and find Lehman Brothers has gone bust, and Merrill has been bought by BoA is Big News. There was the weirdest buzz in the office. The secondee from New York seemed pretty shocked, most of us were mainly curious.

Few hours into the day we heard we are the administrator for LB's European business. Anyone who can spell FS (for Financial Services) is apparently lined up for the project team. Which means someone out there has very little confidence in my spelling abilities as I haven't had a call. So maybe we are actually trying to send a team with investment banking and capital markets experience. Of which I have none. I think I actually doubled my knowledge today just by reading the papers. But it is weird being here in this period. Even partners compare it to 1929 and we are all a bit afraid of what's to come.

I actually pass the Merrill and Lehman offices every day. I bet half of the guys I always see drinking at the pubs on my way to the gym won't be there tomorrow. How weird must it be coming into work on Monday morning, knowing things aren't great but assuming they're okish, and getting knifed like this? The paper mentioned a poor Frenchy who was a few days late for his first day of work (thanks to Eurostar), and ended up being fired on his first actual morning. Odd and exciting times.

Knife crime

Knife crime is hot in London. I lost count of the amount of teenagers killed by knife crimes this year, but I think it is well over 20, many of which took place in the 2.5 months I have been here. Noone seems to know what to do. Lily Allen met major Boris Johnson for tea to discuss it, but I don't think a sloany, no matter how wannabe-chav, really gets it. Her 'we need to have an awareness concert' hasn''t really materialised to anything. The council I live in, Tower Hamlets, doesn't quite get it either. They hired a reputable advertising agency to come up with this video. Somehow I doubt the kids who carry them are really that worried about being killed by their own knifes...

Bath was fab

And a few pics to prove it. Rest can be found on Flickr.

Paris

....and Bath. Man, do I travel the world and the seven seas! Bath on Sunday with Zoe, a daytrip by train. Am as excited as a kid going to camp (or Victoria Beckham in a Laboutin store, you get the drift). It's supposed to be really nice there, I love views from trains and I will get to do some photography. Then on Tuesday I will board a plane to Paris (I don't like trains enough to go Eurostar). Originally, I was due to fly home the next day, but I just had a call today from a Dutch colleague to ask if I could deliver a 'close to report'-training (finance process) with him for the Eurofirm University. On Friday. In Paris. Or Paris, Disneyland would be more accurate. So Tuesday to Friday I will wash my hair with Mickey shampoo, clean my fingers with Donald napkins and have a cuddle from Pluto before going to bed. Can't wait!

Amsterdam

Wow, what a lucky girl I am. Two days of great friends and great weather in the world's most beautiful city. The wedding was loving and sweet and beautiful and catching up with Erik and his 'jaarclub' was great. From 20 year old brats, they are now grown ups with grown up jobs and kids (well, most of them). And still great guys. The sunny post ceremony champers at the little church in Noord was just lovely. Both Saturday and Sunday morning I walked for ages along the Amstel, waiting for the city to wake up and feeling the sun in my face. A few hours with friends on Sunday were enough for dim sum, ice cream and a chin wag with all. All good!