Journalistic Unconfessions

Just to let you know -- because I don't want to be the dodgy journalist that just deletes things without telling you -- I decided to delete yet another post. All it was was a latenight post after a long day of editing mentioning a few experiences I had wielding the red pen.

Perhaps these experiences were too telling. I am not defending what crime the post was about -- a situation involving plagiarism -- but several people were concerned that it might not be appropriate to bring up in a public forum.

But on the other hand, this blog is supposed to be about JOURNALISM. And when I was being a journalist the other day I found a situation that was good fodder for journalists. While I didn't agree with the comments I received (one of which DEFENDED the situation), it called attention to me to the fact that perhaps if it angered these people it might again be a time I shouldn't air dirty laundry. Perhaps it's wimpy of me to delete, but man, I want to have a job. And remember, I only delete, I don't fold my cards!

I am severely struggling here with how to blog about journalism. I don't want to just make this about "woo I went to Scotland!" so if someone has suggestions, please let me know.

And while I can't apparently write about specific situations without second guessing myself, I can apparently still hold my condescending journalistic head up high. Don't you worry about that. This midwestern girl went to one of the best journalism schools in the country and don't you forget it.

Let it Out!

OK, because it's Christmas, I just have one more blog post for you, then I really, really need to go on blogger's vacation. It's hard to find the place to do this when you are a blogger, but it usually requires me to pack my laptop away. (Unfortunately it's my carry-on luggage, so if I get bored during a plane delay, you never know...)

I JUST saw this Kleenex commercial on TV, and I thought, man, what if people in London actually talked to each other. It made me feel warm and fuzzy:

You've Got to Pick a Pocket or Two

Wait, one more thing: How excited am I about this new reality show to cast the next characters in the musical Oliver!?

(The musical is close to my heart, ever since you could see me "Oomp-Pa-Paing" in the 2000 production by community theater troupe Bart's Bards.)

[Edit: I deleted a photo from this post.]

Leavin' on a jetplane yet again!

Well, as you may have guessed, Ellie Goes to London will be out of order for an extended holiday period while Ellie goes to Ohio. But be prepared for a refreshed Ellie to entertain you with Part II of this blog.

As I depart for the States to finally get reunited with my true love -- the grilled stuff burrito -- here are the top five things (I just gave you one of them) that I am looking forward to:

1. Regular-sized toilets. There's definitely a petite-ness to the European model. And I'll also mention that a separate faucet for hot and cold water is also something I'm so over.

2. Mexican food (and yes, I mean Taco Bell).

3. Beers for under $5 each. Or hell, under $7 each.

4. Old Navy. There isn't really a comparison here -- it's either Primark (cheap as hell) or Top Shop (super hip and not so cheap). I need to stalk up on sweaters.

5. Fox News. Just kidding, I was just wondering if you were reading. But I will say I miss American TV in general, such as The Daily Show!

Well then, it's over and out. I'll see you in 2008 when I come back for round two as a seasoned Londoner.

Tour of the Scotland Highlands

The Haggis tour guides in front of our sexy yellow bus:


Yeah, it doesn't get much more picturesque than this:


A clansman demonstrates medieval weapons:


A monument to William Wallace (aka Mel Gibson), Scotland's 13th-century patriot who led a resistance movement to the English:



The Harry Coo, who I actually fed and got attacked with its large tongue. By the way this sexy animal's horns is where viagra is made (thus the term "horny"):


My American travel companions (all living in different countries!), stopping for a group photo on the shores of Loch Ness:


This image made me high on the Highlands:


Eilean Donan, a real live castle where people live:


Glencoe, the site of the Massacre of Glenco, during which members of the MacDonald clan were slaughtered by people who accepted their hospitality.


I had to pull a "the hills are alive with the sound of music!" somewhere:

Another Great Britain!

Summary: Scotland was just the GB hit I needed.

Word of the day: aye
I never realized how often I say "yeah" until I imagined replacing it with "aye" like the Scottish.

What I learned yesterday: As I was doodling the notes for the blog in the Edinburgh Airport, I realized something I should've learned months ago: Airport travel is the most inefficient form of transportation, bringing to mind rush-hour traffic or waiting in line at the DMV for a license. And yet I shouldn't complain because traveling back home in the U.S. is just as inefficient but on top of that about three times more expensive.

Speaking of air travel! How scared am I to fly home on Sunday? I'm showing up at Gatwick Airport like four hours early armed with food and supplies. Let's hope I can even hit the air. You might've heard that British airline workers are planning a strike, but are kind enough to postpone it to after Christmas (cross fingers).

From the Highlands
I will be sure to tell it in pictures as soon as I can, but let me just say that the raw scenery of the Scottish Highlands was as a beautiful as I needed it to be! And on top of that I met some wonderful people. OK so there isn't really any way around me doing a "this was the time of my life" blog post, sorry. Yet you might think from reading this blog that I am always having these sort of moments, but that really isn't true. Regardless of London being, well, London, I still work here and it is still a big city, which can feel oppressive at times. If I ever seem too positive, know that life is not all roses and some days I hide from the city by staying in my PJs all day.

Scotland was quite the opposite, with mountain air, crumbling castles, and perfect open-minded people around to drink pints with on the shores of Loch Ness. And even Edinburgh was walkable and, geez, literally built around a castle on a hill, how flipping cool is that?

Well anyway, the whole operation of backpacking through Scotland on top of my horrendous work week last week caught up with me and I slept it off today. Then I went on a Jack the Ripper walking tour, to get in a little spirit by hearing about the famous sex serial killer of 1888. So now I have to pack .... And if you know me, you know this is never a good activity.

The good news is, I don't have to say goodbye! My boss made it possible for me to come back in the New Year. Did I just bury the lead (as we news people call putting the most important point at the bottom of a story)? So yes, you will have that nagging feeling of needing to check my blog in 2008 to hear about my seasonal affective disorder in January in London.

I am now watching: Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. How cliche am I sitting in London watching this? So fun!

Ellie Goes to Scotland

Word of the day: cider
In the U.S. of course cider is some random apple drink that people might drink to be festive in the fall, but here it is oh-so-delicious cider-flavored beer, which I will miss dearly.

What I learned today: The prospect of time off is something I haven’t experienced for years and I see now that it is much needed!

What I love about London: Walking over the London Bridge and clearing my head in style.

After the Party
I feel like a kid who just got done with a term at school school now that work is over. I have never felt so drained. That and the combination of the apprehension of the future has merged into a sort of peaceful state of mind in which I am simply introspective, relaxed and sluggish.

Yesterday I said bye to co-workers and finally had a good night's sleep. I feel like I could sleep for days and days but maybe soon I will.

The landscape of Scotland should be good for me! And home even better!!!!

Ellie Goes to London will be out of order for a few days because Ellie goes to Scotland.

I am now watching: A marathon of Friends Christmas episodes! When I saw a commercial advertising it I knew I wouldn't be leaving tonight. Oh and “How I Met Your Mum” -- a show about single people reflecting back on how they settled down (does this sound familiar?) -- is premiering in England tonight.

Tea Bagged

Summary: How to make tea!

Word of the day: lie-in
When the English are sleeping in our laying around, they have a "lie-in." Sigh, I want those days.

Tea Bagged
So amid another excrutiating day that strained my eyeballs from squinting
at text and numbers on page proofs, my boss found the time to give this
helpless American a little lesson on how to make a proper cup of tea. In
addition to being the authority on all things global custody, I would
certainly pin him as the authority on drinking tea. Here are his tea
hints:

Tea Do's...

1. Get fresh, COLD water.

2. Boil the water in a kettle. Meanwhile, place the tea bags into your cup.

3. When it is still BOILING,pour over your tea bag.

4. Beat the bag quickly against your mug (this is where the real technique
comes in) for about 20 seconds. You can really start to recognize your own
preferences for how much flavor to squeeze out of that sucker. Once you
have exhausted the tea bag to your heart's content, discard it.

5. Pour some SKIM milk into your tea and stir.

Tea Don'ts...

DON'T pour in milk first.

DON'T let your tea bag just chill in the water.

DON'T use hot water.

DON'T use cream or whole milk, but skim milk.

Oh and edit: I discovered some people prefer tea in only bone china cups. I don't even know what that means.

Jumping Off the London Bridge

OMG I am going to die and it is my last week of work.

Unless of course I come back in the New Year, because then I will have much longer.

I don't have any thoughts because my brain hurts worse than it has ever hurt.

This will all be "over" next week.

Quote of the day from my boss: "Wine is like the typewriter oil for journalists."

Enchiladas and … Anywhere But Here?

Summary: I have been eating American-sized meals almost!

Word of the day: squash
This is fruit concentrate you mix with water (Kool-Aid-esque).

What I learned today: Long days don’t end after college. Oh no sir, my work habits have followed me everywhere. I definitely found the company where workaholics go to get crazier and have been editing page proofs all day in my boss’ basement. It is nice to be around people with good work ethic (some other people I have worked with don’t have it, and we've all had that experience), but I’m wondering when I will ever get a break again in life? One of my editors wants me to finish an article after I leave. I can’t do that! I think I might die if I don’t take a couple weeks off. I am burnt out from journalism and I don’t even have a job yet! haha

What I love about London: Here I am in a city with seven million people and I met someone who went to a rival high school of mine. She happened to be in the same party as me at a restaurant.

Enchiladas!
Finally I had Mexican food in London at Desperados in Angel (an area in the Islington borough, close to the inner city). I should have done it a long time ago to sustain me spiritually for my stay here. Of course, unlike an American portion, I could actually finish my whole plate and have room left over for $8 cheesecake. (How dare I covert the currency!)

I am now reading: If you care to know, I have been staring at ratings all day of agent banks in emerging markets. Do you know what those are? I don’t really, but I know they are important and that making sure they are accurate is really important to the industry that pays thousands to read our book!

Update to Ellie's Impaired Decision-making Skills

Oh my g, I just told my boss I would come back to London if he incurs the additional cost.

I am used to being rejected lately, so it's no big deal when he's like "um, no," but I just made a potentially life-changing decision. It felt really nice to send off that e-mail. Now I can have a good night's sleep finally.

Just wanted to keep y'all informed.

Still Frolicking About London

Summary: I still haven't run out of markets in London to visit. Or financial ones to write about, for that matter.

Word of the day: chuck
Most of the time, you don’t throw things away in London, but you chuck them! I need to chuck a lot of things if I want to fit on the plane.

What I learned today: The awe of London doesn’t really ever wear off. I still felt like a child in Leicester Square today.

But by the way, I want to come home so badly.

What I love about London: A quote from my friend Joe about how we end up calling early nights in order to to get to the last tube: “London is so cool until midnight! It totally turns into a pumpkin!”

My last real London weekend to tell you about…

And I worked for most of it, boooooooooooooooo. (Did I mention how over work I am? I should’ve taken time off after college.) But today Hild, my friend from Norway, and I enjoyed a lovely London day. We walked under the Thames to Greenwich and enjoyed some markets there (big London surprise). And we also found the coolest shop that advertises as retro and kitsch: Flying Duck Enterprises, which is sadly closing soon, so unfortunately don’t bother!

Then we shot over on the Docklands Light Railway to Tower Hill in search of a Jack the Ripper tour that apparently doesn’t run on Sundays. But have no fear, Covent Garden and the most delicious hamburger ever at the Gourmet Burger Kitchen was only a bus ride away.

Afterward, I took this cheesy picture in Piccadilly Circus, and maybe saw Soho for the last time. Sigh.

Oh well, as much as these exploratory weekends have been fun, I miss the lazy ones I had in Ohio.

I am now watching: The last Grey’s Anatomy for a while. Boo, nothing to look forward to on Sidereel anymore. My life sucks.

Back to Myself

I'm baaaaack

and a little bit better.

In fact, I even have a fun word of the day: loo
We all know this is what English "pop to" instead of the restroom. But where did it come from? My co-worker James suggested its French origins, and Oxford Dictionary's etymology site supports him:

There are several theories about the origin of this common term for a familiar article of sanitary furniture. The first, and most popular, is that it is derived from the cry of 'gardyloo' (from the French regardez l'eau 'watch out for the water') which was shouted by medieval servants as they emptied the chamber-pots out of the upstair windows into the street. This is historically problematic, since by the time the term 'loo' is recorded, the expression 'gardyloo' was long obsolete. A second theory is that the word derives from a polite use of the French term le lieu ('the place') as a euphemism. Unfortunately, documentary evidence to support this idea is lacking. A third theory, favoured by many, refers to the trade name 'Waterloo', which appeared prominently displayed on the iron cisterns in many British outhouses during the early 20th century. This is more credible in terms of dates, but corroborating evidence is still frustratingly hard to find. Various other picturesque theories also circulate, involving references to doors numbered '00' or people called 'Looe'.

What I learned today: Well, clearly where English toilets came from.

What I love about London: To get into the office, I have a big old-fashioned trunk key.

My Successful Day
Today at work I felt good because I managed to fulfill every post-it everywhere and even cleaned out lots of my personal g-mail! My tasks included:

• Searching random news wires to make sure all aspects of our Web site had news, from private equity to prime brokerage, darnit!
• Editing our in-house style sheet for the Web. What an anal, Ellie-ish thing to do. For those of you who don't know, most publications have a style sheet that is a sort of policy of language and other things. Ours has words listed to use or not use in news stories and explains all our categories of news and all that jazz. Wow it's hard explain journalism sometimes...
  
• Watching the FINAL (well, almost final) cut of the riveting DVD on the securities services and listening to my boss' humorous and running commentary on the whole thing. It was quite fun, despite the fact that it was a long day. Then, you know, I had my nightly chat with Christopher about which transitions should be changed and maybe where this b-roll could go and I managed not to say anything majorly bitchy! What an accomplishment for me.
• Oh and I had yummy Turkish fast food (which I will miss after London!).

As much as I hate this DVD anymore, it will be sad when it is all over. Um, just kidding.

I am now listening to: Finally I have caught onto the soulful Joss Stone. I love it when I finally get around to listening to people everyone says I would love, but there are still so many left!

[Edit: I deleted a photo from this post.]

Journalistic Confessions: Part III

Bleh I don’t feel like a word of day today. Or what I learned. Or what I love.

I am so tired and depressed, so you should stop reading now!

Today I had dinner plans with a group of new friends and I was really happy to have a group of friends at all. But back in the office, we are at the end of producing this DVD, and I had to watch the footage with my boss and critique it and send all of the thoughts back to my colleague. And so I missed the dinner.

That is irritating and I am mad at myself, because this morning when I was talking to my colleague in London I said, “I am going to get out of here before 9.” And of course I didn’t. Yeah, this happens -- good old deadlines. I missed loads and loads of dinners and birthdays and free beer and every Valentine’s Day in college because I was always helping to produce a paper.

And for what? All the little shits that were out drinking kegs on Thursday night while I was tirelessly putting together a paper probably have great jobs already. Sigh.

I wish I didn’t complain so much but I find it really, really difficult not to, mostly just because I am experiencing my biweekly irritation at being unable to control circumstances I can’t control. And I’m frustrated about what to do next and feeling immensely inadequate and underappreciated in life and missing home and picking apart everyone I know blah blah blah.

And on top of that I lashed out at my co-worker and good friend today, and that’s really what instigated this whole emotional state I guess. I lost my temper at my colleague back in the States because he wasn’t around when I needed to talk to him about something and I was tired and cranky and upset about missing my dinner. (You know the drill.) We have been working on entirely different schedules (the same fight I had with my boyfriend one time!) and it really got to me today because I was sick of waiting to work with him late at night when the office is empty and I have shit to do elsewhere. I think these concerns are completely justified, but I sure blew it when I sent passive aggressive comments (always a counterproductive method). So of course my complaints just bounced right back at me.

And now I feel really bad because he put in hours and hours producing this DVD and it’s really a lot of work. So boo, here I was getting angry and also still working -- so basically, now I am both evil and a workaholic. And all for what? I should’ve just told people “no” a zillion times at work, but I care about work and can’t do that and would rather just complain at injustices. Aren't I ridiculous?

Sigh. I am always ostracizing everyone because I am always standing up for myself when I’m full to the brim. And if I were the type of person you expected to voice an opinion, it wouldn’t matter. But because I appear to be sweet Ellie, when I get angry, people just reject me.

And because I am 100% more sensitive than I should be, I then reject myself as well.

My Dickensian Weekend

Summary: I am refreshed by the air outside Central London.

Word of the day: Europe
Europe is the rest of the continent aside from Britain, according the the British. At first it’s weird when you hear a Brit refer to “Europe” as if they are not in Europe. But that’s just how the Brits are: Being in England is clearly a superior state than being in Europe.

What I learned today: On the topic of nationalism, my flatmate and I were just discussing which country is more full of itself: Britain or the United States? We ended up deciding both were pretty darn conceited. However, American people tend to me a little more modest than the British. But American diplomacy does not reflect this. Would love to know anyone's opinions on this.

What I love about London: It is ginormous. I have probably only gone to half of its neighborhoods. (Actually that can be frustrating, but in a way it can count as kind of endearing.)

Castles, Canada and Christmas

This weekend I …

… saw one of the most beautiful castles in Europe, Leeds Castle in Kent:

… went to the Dickensian Christmas Festival in Rochester, where people were dressed up in Victorian costume and everything! Here is Charles Dickens Swiss chalet in the town:

… drank at a merry, Canadian-themed pub near Covent Garden called The Maple Leaf with new friends from America, Canada and Norway. And of course, the Santa bear, who received a proper bear hug after a few pints:

… visited my friend Erin and her husband in the Harry-Potter-like campus of Harrow, one of those swanky all-boys boarding schools with famous graduates like William Churchill.

(Woops, forgot to get a picture.)

But despite my lack of sleep and lack of progress on life decisions, it’s been OK.

I am now watching: Sex and the City, which makes me miss my girls at home soooooo much. My flatmate actually has a few of the seasons on videocassettes! Remember those?

Journalistic Confessions: Part II

I can’t sleep and it’s job problems.

You were wondering when I was going to tell-all about this, weren’t you?

Well the conflict about finding the right journalism job is settling vs. reaching and cost vs. benefit. You have to weigh the costs and benefits and divide it by your dreams. No job will be a perfect score at the beginning of your career, and I don’t want to hear about the exceptions to that rule. For me the job options are obvious:

1. General reporting in Podunk, Ohio
2. Trade magazine
3. Starving editorial assistant job in NYC
4. Features reporting at a mediocre weekly somewhere

(We dare not speak of the still-unobtainable Ultimate Job, but we can call that U, and for me it is writing news features and social commentary for a news magazine or large newspaper.)

You can only hope that one of these ends up having a stand-out location or salary (or maybe U potential?) to make it the perfect first job. I have already eliminated option A, because it will never fit into either aforementioned categories. Option C was never really my planned route, unlike other magazine-bent journalists. In all honesty, last year I decided my first job would be in B or D, and that’s where my eyes navigate on journalismjobs.com.

As it turns out, B is in my reach at this VERY SECOND. Right now I am trying to decide whether to stay in London or not for a job with no benefits that could or could not end up as a permanent gig. I was really struggling the whole time I’ve been here about whether to stay in London longer or to go back to ol’ Ohio and see what I could find. Then I took it as a sign this week when my current boss mentioned job opportunities in the company if I were willing to return after Christmas, and my former boss at a good D rejected my application for a position they had open. So with this week’s victories and loss still lingering, I am completely devoid of what to do. Should I stay on at Global Custodian and see what happens? Should I pass, but then go home and just end up at another B in a more boring location? Should I hold out for another good D and maybe never wear a business suit again? Should I finally grow some balls and find a C?

See, if my boss told me “you can go to New York and start work” I would be thrilled; I guess because my American phone service will be kicking back on soon and I can use it there. But he needs me in London. The reality is I can’t stay in London for that long anyway because of my visa expiration in March, but I’m wondering why I don’t just go back -- it’s not that long, so what’s the big deal? Maybe there will be a job somewhere following the London stint, or maybe not.

But then when my brain remembers the crazy thing it is telling itself to do by going back to London, it freaks out and remembers packing to go over oceans and losing glasses at airports and getting sick without having a doctor and my whole mind breaks down.

And then, like a vicious cycle, it goes back to: It’s a couple more months in an amazing city -- what is the big deal?

The big deal? I don’t even know if the company will pay for my plane ticket or pay me more to make up for taxes, so basically if I can even afford to eat in London.

And then I remember that it’s London, one of the coolest cities in the world.
And then I remember that it’s London, one of the farthest cities in the world from my family and the man I love. Well, not really, but it’s pretty damn far.

And then I just shut down and when my boss asked me today over a cup of tea if I had thought more about staying, I didn’t know what to say.

Nice, Ellie. Real smooth.

And then I heard a few hours later that I had been officially rejected from the old job -- which was a wonderful D location I had to tear myself away from to come to this B in the first place. But I take that as a sign. It ain’t me babe, D said.

But if I stay in finance will I ever leave (find my U)? Will I ever get to write for Bitch magazine or The New York Times?

I don’t know.

But I’m curious.

And crazy.

Start Wearing Purple!

Oh and I almost forgot. A lot of friends at home have commented on this purple sweater I am wearing in Amsterdam:

Yes, I finally started wearing this bright purple sweater I found a year ago at a Salvation Army in Chautauqua, New York -- I mean, in a Top Shop on Oxford Street ...

And my friend Joe just sent me this song to inspire you too:

I am now listening to: "Start Wearing Purple" by Gogol Bordello

Some Serious Blogging

Word of the day: shag
I thought only Austin Powers said this but it’s a real live word in the English vernacular.

What I learned today: I am too sensitive to be a journalist! I don’t know how I got into this profession, but I have the hardest time writing co-workers off when I should or not being bothered by what my editor says or not worrying what a source thinks. Or maybe I am just too sensitive to be a person.

What I love about London: This eerie pub we went to off of Oxford Street called Ben Crouch’s Tavern, adorned in Frankenstein-like décor mingled with Christmas wreaths. Test tube shots for one pound!

Bloglob
The most suicidal thing a person can possibly do is blog about blogging (or write about writing or sing about singing or any of that look-in-the-mirror bullshit), but I can’t help but remember that my little night job of blogging is going to be up soon. Well so is my London adventure but never mind that.

I have to say it seems like it must be really easy to ramble on about your own life in one of these things, and it is. But the rest of it is really quite challenging. The biggest challenge is knowing how much and how little to say.

For instance, I am dying, absolutely freaking dying to tell stories about things in the office, but I can’t. And I can’t really give the office justice by not telling you the whole story. So this whole time I have not bothered to tell you about the humorous characters I encounter on a daily basis, from the drone of sales pitches, to the technical guys from Uzbekistan who sometimes try to convert me to Islam. And then of course there’s my editor, who always wears a suit and walks in and immediately gets the kettle started for tea. It’s impossible to paint the correct picture of this dingy old place, and so I don’t.

It’s funny to think that in all these blog entries, I’ve gone on and on and on about places in London and being in another country yada yada yada, but I have hardly given justice to the place where I’ve spent the most hours: work.

But anyway, I’m thinking this blog comprises three things: a. me b. London and c. journalism, but in truth the only thing I was allowed to say everything about was b. And I’m sure I’ve told you too much about a.

So listen, in honor of this self-indulgent blog about my daily trials and tribulations and sightings of old churches, here is an Onion link that made me chuckle: Entire Blogosphere Stunned By Blogger's Special Weekend Post

By the way, have I mentioned that this sardonic paper gets me through long afternoons in the office?

Oh, and by the way, the quote of the day goes to my American co-worker after I told him something an English person did:

"I think it's the U.K. man. You're either a genius or an idiot." -- Christopher

Soup Tastes Better When Someone Else Makes It

Summary: I am sick and my blog is now translated into German.

Word of the day: spot
This is what you call the ugly red thing on my cheek.

What I learned today: All of the things network managers are looking for in their sub-custodians. That’s about it.

What I love about London: Getting groceries from the local grocer across the street. Actually, to tell you the truth I miss Kroger and don't care for the Tesco superstore here. But the local grocer thing is kind of fun some days.

I Want My Mama
So I am sick and being in another country when you are sick sucks. I guess I don’t really know why; maybe it is more like being away from all of the people who usually take care of you when you are sick sucks. It reminds me of the soup Matt brought over the last time I was sick or the way my mom watched TV with me on Christmas Eve when I had the flu. This time around no one even bothered asking me how I felt. My flatmate was relieved when I told her I wasn't throwing up, because she doesn't want to catch that. Well, my boss seemed concerned. He asked if I wanted to go to a wine-tasting party hosted by one of our custodian bank clients and then added, “Well maybe not, because you are sick. I hope you feel better.” That meant a lot actually.

What, do I want a big freakin’ pity party? Yeah I do.

But anyway, is anyone weirded out that I found someone had translated one of my blog posts into German? I’m still pretty unclear what this is about: http://tourism-industry.blogspot.com/2007/10/ellie-fhrt-nach-london-auf-meinem-j-in.html

I am now listening to: All of the songs from my Top 10 Songs for the Tube published yesterday. Today was melancholy, definitely an “Across the Universe” day.

Special: Ellie’s Picks for Songs on the Tube

Word of the day: vouchers
Gift certificates are referred to as “vouchers,” as I learned today from my co-workers. Just like every day, my colleagues said something and I said, “What?” Followed by, “You don’t have that in America??” Followed by, “Oh, are they like gift certificates/elevators/pimples?” Culture gap closed.

What I learned today: How to edit video in Final Cut Pro! (Mom, that is a program on the computer with which you edit video.) I actually put the text in and made transitions and it really looks quite professional, I must say. I’ll show you when it’s done … Even if you don’t want to know about OTC derivative valuation.

What I love about London. Falafels from Café Rosse on Borough High Street, which was my lunch and dinner today.

Top 10 Tube Songs!
It’s cold.
And it’s Monday.
And I am watching Dawson’s Creek again because nothing else is on. And the American screenwriters ruined the only thing I have to look forward to every week: watching pixelated shows on Sidereel.

But the good news is, I was inspired today on the tube to compile a list of my top 10 songs to listen to on the underground. This list was whittled down from the 34 nominees I scribbled in my notebook after skipping through all 380 songs on my iPod. Yeah, so I wouldn’t call it the end-all list, as my iPod is disproportionately populated with Bob Dylan and Fiona Apple (I haven't had a chance to add all my music to it). But from this scanty selection are several songs that turn an icky tube ride into the opening credits of my own TV show -- you know, like those Mary Tyler Moore moments you have as you cross a busy street.

And the winners are:

“Black Like Me” by Spoon -- This inspired the whole list.

“Across the Universe” by Fiona Apple (remake of The Beatles, who would probably be even better for England if I had them on my iPod) -- This song feels like it was written on a subway.

“Carrion” by British Sea Power -- It helps that they mention “Rotherhithe,” which is the street I live off of.

“Conventional Wisdom” by Built to Spill -- Another upbeat, indie rock type of song -- those are good tube-song ingredients, provided they aren’t too shallow.

“Epic Song” by Futuristic Retro Champions -- So I take that "shallow" comment back because this song means nothing, but the combination of horns and synthesizers is fabulous! Maybe it makes me a little dizzy, but it reminds me of a great night in London, and so it works on the tube.

“Everybody’s Got Their Own Part to Play" by Shannon Wright -- Songs about the whole fact of a bunch of people also being individuals are good for those lonely but crowded tube rides.

“God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys – For a happy day. I think it reminds me of London because of the movie Love Actually.

“Better Version of Me” by Fiona Apple -- I know, another Fiona, but what do you expect? This is kind of my theme song.

“Queen Jane Approximately” by Bob Dylan -- OK so I had a rough time choosing among BD’s songs, which form the backbone for my tube soundtrack. But this is a good one -- not too explicitly about being a traveling spirit (like a rolling stone), but still enigmatically pleasing tube music.

“I Like It” by Dixie Chicks -- These girls are good for the highway, but they also work underground. (I would definitely not recommend “Wide Open Spaces” on the tube.)

FYI if I could squeeze in another song, it would surely be by Wilco, which always suit me just fine on any tube journey. But I guess the band's new album is more for car commercials under the blue sky -- not so much the underground.

My Weekend Pilgrimages

Word of the day: Happy Christmas
Isn’t it delightful that some people say this instead of “Merry Christmas?”

What I learned today: Shopping online is so much less stressful than shopping for real. Yes, this is coming from the girl who loves to shop (but just not for other people). I have planned it so Amazon will have all my presents waiting in Cincinnati when I arrive at Christmas. Go me!

What I love about London: All the ridiculous souvenirs I bought at one of the many tacky shops along Leicester Square this afternoon.

This Weekend in London…
Well, originally my friend Joe Washecheck (a Wisconsin native working in the BUNAC program for Boston University), and a couple other people were going to cook Thanksgiving dinner, but we discovered a much better option. As I have mentioned before, I live down the street from where The Mayflower sailed. So Joe and I visited The Mayflower pub in Rotherhithe (on my street) and had a fancy dinner (well, fancy for us). Back when the pilgrims sailed the ocean blue in 1620 in order to escape persecution and then persecute others in return, this same pub was still standing there. At the time it was called The Shippe. Kind of cool, eh?

Today I finally visited the National Gallery and saw all the Ninja Turtles' paintings. My favorite pieces were those by Degas, because if I could make my words imitate any artist, I would choose the blurred reality of Degas. I am also partial to him because I love ballet. My mother lined my little aspiring-ballerina room with his paintings growing up.

I also hopped over to the adjoining National Portrait Gallery to see the haunted faces of dead people in room after room. I love that stuff!

National Gallery at Trafalgar Square

Trafalgar Square

I am now watching: Fanny Hill -- getting educated on a little 18^th century erotica on the BBC. Definitely not the Jane Austen-type movies I’m used to seeing from this time period!

Sorted Out

Summary: I rode first class on the new high-speed train from St. Pancras International station to Paris yesterday.

Word of the day: sort
The English are always “sorting things out” the way we are always “figuring things out.”

What I learned today: So I was really upset about losing my glasses, but it turns out my contacts finally stopped bothering me ever since I started wearing them all the time. They are actually extended wear contacts and this whole time I hadn’t been wearing them long enough for my eyes to get used to them. Wow what a boring story, I’m sorry.

What I love about London: I got on the wrong bus today (a usual occurrence) and discovered that the Surrey Quays tube station and part of town was literally only one bus stop past the Canada Water station I usually go to. So this whole area of dodgy shops and fun East End culture is right around the corner practically. And here I thought I was in the middle of nowhere. When you take the bus you discover how close together areas of town actually are. Usually Londoners are like groundhogs popping up from tunnels all over London.

First Class to Paris
Yesterday I spent most of my day on the train to and from Paris in order to FINALLY interview once and for all the big, important elusive executive. I concentrated the whole train ride on making sure I absorbed every free piece of bread, glass of wine and cup of coffee they gave me, because I don’t get to be first class very often. And on the way back I almost exchanged my ticket for later that evening so I could enjoy the business lounge for longer. It was like another world, as I walked in and saw a wall lined with newspapers and a bar full of wine and liquor for free. I sipped (guzzled) a glass of wine and read The Financial Times. I looked so legit. And then I realized ... Who am I? Don’t I also go to indie rock shows and wear bright purple sweaters with big bracelets? I feel like I am two different people sometimes.

That’s all I got for today.

I am now watching: The second to last episode of Grey’s Anatomy until the screenwriter’s decide to recommence writing my trashy shows. I'll finally get back to American TV and there won't be anything to watch! It must be hard to stay creative with Grey's anyway. They are having to introduce new characters in order to come up with new sexual combinations.

Thoughts from a Lonely Traveler...

Summary: I am in a funk this week.

Word of the day: smart
English people always use this to mean “sharp” when describing someone dressed up, i.e. “You look smart.”

What I learned today: How to edit video with Final Cut Pro!

What I love about London: Finally, it rained for a while today and I got to use my umbrella. I have barely used it at all and people acted like I better have an umbrella sewn to my body before I left. I guess it’s just been kind of dry in rainy ol' England.

So what am I still doing here?
Well yesterday I was writing a piece for our winter issue about upgrades to a new trading platform and I found myself typing the following paragraph instead … I guess I’ve really been in a funk about being over here, and kind of ready for it to be over now that I lost my glasses. But tomorrow I will probably get all upset that I am leaving this amazing city and will probably end up working for a paper in Nebraska or something. And then other days I wish I could be transported home immediately. Today is one of the latter.

Why do we travel, really? It makes us more likely to be poor, more likely to lose things, more likely to fight with our significant other, more prone to diseases in other countries … And yet, I don't understand why anyone wouldn't want the horrible experience of losing your make-up in England and having to buy it back for twice as much. It is with these ridiculous challenges working abroad brings that makes every lonely traveler rise to the occasion. We swear that some day this experience will make us more confident people, will benefit our pocketbook (not sure how -- does worldliness pay?) and strengthen our relationship after facing the test of time zones. And yet perhaps these endless steeples and strangers we encounter won't make a heap of difference, but at least it's fun for most of the time. I mean, really, why not travel? What have I got to lose aside from my passport, cell phone, iPod, travel card, credit cards, wallet, glasses, boyfriend, sanity, life savings, make-up, etcetera?

I am now reading: Naked Option by Joe Kolman. I saw my co-worker reading this and thought he had brought some erotic book to the office, but actually it’s an account of life on the trade floor he was reviewing for the magazine. Finally, an interesting read about the business I cover!

The One Where Ellie Leaves Her Glasses at Heathrow

Me in Amsterdam

Summary: I went to Amsterdam and it was sweet, but I lost my glasses.

Word of the day: coffee shop
I’m taking a break from my usual British/U.S. dictionary to mention a phrase on so many buildings in Amsterdam. The funny thing is, I really thought they were coffee shops at first, but you can smell that the weed as you walk by, and so I caught on quickly.

What I learned this weekend: Heathrow Airport ate my glasses. I am embarrassed to tell you (but I’m going to tell you) that what I learned deep down at my core is that what all of those countless employers and teachers and principals and vice principals always told me about being late is true. I learned from this experience that one should be on time for his or her flight, because then he or she will be less likely to freak out and leave his or her whole make-up bag (including his or her glasses) at check-in. And he or she will never get these items back if he or she forgets them.

What I love about London: Being only a cheap plane ride (trying to discount missing glasses!!!) away from Holland. I’m pretty sure the stoically carefree people of Holland changed me forever.

Seeing Red
Well my first visit to Amsterdam was this weekend, and because I waited for a day without Amsterdam to write this, I feel like some of it has worn off. But I managed to scribble some thoughts down last night in the airport.

As you know, I lost my glasses. [whines on about losing glasses for five minutes]

It’s hard to say what I really loved about Amsterdam, because it is so a place you just GO. You do not DO in Amsterdam (despite what you might think about all the doing people are doing), but you just BE. For instance, on Friday, after meeting up with my friend Katie Jones, who is working as a flight attendant and got a cheap flight from Ohio, we soaked up some local color at a bar near the dodgy east part of Amsterdam. Turns out we needed a big key to get into the bathroom, because they lock it to keep the Dutch men from peeing all over the walls. At first I thought this was a joke, but then I discovered all of the pee deflectors in corners and public urinals all over the city.

On Saturday, Jessica got in town and we simply explored. I would definitely recommend a walking tour in any city, and Amsterdam is delightfully walkable as long as you watch out for the bikes ringing their bells to alert you before they smash your limbs. But when you aren’t walking, you can always sit in Amsterdam. There are plenty of cafes and coffee shops to just relax.

On Sunday we did a little museum-hopping with a new best friend from Australia we met in the hostel. First we hit up the Anne Frank House, where Anne Frank wrote her diary in hiding. And then on a completely different note, we went to the Sex Museum, where you would hardly believe the erotic art over the centuries.

On Monday we did some last-minute Amsterdam tourism, hitting those random Monday spots like vintage shops and Cannabis College, where one can thumb through hemp-constructed clothing and books on the medicinal benefits of marijuana. Did you know that marijuana is both antibacterial and antifungal? Must be why the Dutch have such amazing skin. What is funny is that Americans view it as such a fungus. Actually (and maybe we better discuss this over a beer sometime), I see a lot of class discrimination in the American criminalization of drugs. And why in the world is alcohol a more acceptable undertaking than weed?

Oh whatever, this trip simply added to my plate of things to ponder and ways of life to dissect. And now I have that strange clarity that losing one’s glasses will bring. And I consumed a lot of fries drenched in mayonnaise and all kinds of cakes. Amsterdam is any easy city to enjoy yourself in.

I am now reading: Blink by Malcom Gladwell. Well actually I already started and finished it in the airport and on the plane, but I definitely think it's worth mentioning this clever analysis of our gut instincts.

Anti-Clockwise Around the World

Word of the day: anti-clockwise
Yesterday I saw a sign in the underground station that said the “anti-clockwise” route on the Circle line was delayed. I’ll stick with counterclockwise, thank you much.

What I learned today: ... to be careful about setting up one's out of office auto reply … I accidentally backlogged it to every e-mail in my inbox, thanks to Apple's Mail application. So my poor colleague Christopher (who e-mails me several times a day) said it almost blew up his blackberry. And I'm sure various financial bigwigs in London are hating me right now.

What I love about London: So the same interview that fell through last week fell through today. So now I will be spending Thanksgiving interviewing the CEO of BNP Paribas in Paris. But with the new train station from St. Pancras, it will only be two hours to get there. London to Paris? Like Cincinnati to Columbus.

Subject: Out of Office Reply Subject: Out of Office Reply Subject: Out of Office Reply
Well in other news the iPhone hit Europe and so I had to hear about that all over again. (Good read: Why you should avoid the iPhone) I read in The London Paper that 26 women have let National insurance foot the surgery bill to make them virgins again. And the Spice Girls are working hard for their reunion tour, but Mel C is a little reluctant.

A week to remember in London.

The Apple store on Regent Street

I won’t be blogging this weekend because I will be taking an e-mail-free, phone-free, real, live holiday for four days in Amsterdam. So in case ANYONE out there didn’t get my e-mail today:

I am out of the office with no e-mail access until Tuesday the 20th
November. If your request is urgent, please call the London office at
+44 020.7939.9934. I will reply to your request as soon as I can.

Best regards,

Ellie Behling
Global Custodian

I am now watching: The Project Runway participants taking on Paris seasons ago.

More of My Favorite Photos...

A view of Canary Wharf from my flat:


What is McDonald's trying to prove here?:


Oh Big Ben -- what a ham:


The Thames from London Bridge:


An old bus-turned-cafe in the East End:

Some of My Favorite Photos...

The Millennium Bridge with St. Paul's Cathedral in the background:

Miss Ellie's Cookies & Things in South Kensington:


"CHEAP AS F*** SALE" on Brick Lane:


London -- a hodgepodge of old and new:


The Roman Baths:

Finally! London in Photos

Word of the day: CV
This is what they call a resume. Probably a good thing to know if one is applying for a job in London. Although in my case my resume was never even attached but my now-boss saw a link to the old blog I had for The Post and hired me. See? Blogs do matter.

What I learned today: You can put all of your chat applications into
one application. So now I use jabber to access AOL and at work.
This minimizes a couple of applications I usually have floating around
all over the screen. How exciting is my life?

What I love about London: That it's gray outside. So you might think
I'm a sunny person, but I'm not. Or maybe I am but I prefer not to be
outshined by the sun.

So Now I Can Stop Trying to Catch Your Attention With My Wit
...Because I finally have pictures again!

I am super tired right now because I insisted on uploading all of my
pictures to facebook last night as soon as I got my camera cord in the mail. Of course that doesn't help you old geysers (age 26 and over) who read my blog and want to see pictures. Actually, you will luck out because I will wade through and select only my favorite
photos. OK I was going to do that right now, but the picture upload isn't working. I'll post more later tonight or tomorrow.

I am now watching: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow -- there is no end to British TV randomness.

Home, Home on the Range

Word of the day: Oh bloody hell, I can’t think of one mate!

What I learned today: There was an industrial explosion in East London today (visible from my flat), and I didn’t even know about it until my friend at the AP in Jerusalem e-mailed me to see if I was alright. Guess I only know about stock market explosions these days! Reuters reported that the explosion made the pound lower to ONLY the worth of $2.0674 instead of it’s usual $2.0692 … So does this mean that if I start enough explosions in London, the pound could be worth $2? Woohoo!

What I love about London: How whenever I clutch my bag on the tube so no sticky fingers can get in, I think of the song "Gotta Pick a Pocket or Two" from Oliver.

Too Much Office Space
Life in the electronic office can be challenging. Mostly because four of my superiors will e-mail me from different countries at the same time and ask me to do something and it’s hard to prioritize. But, you know, I juggle tasks -- that’s what I do. I write it on a Post-it that I deem the appropriate size (I have all different shapes and sizes) and then attack that Post-it until I check every item off! Or I put it in my planner and won’t sleep at night until its highlighted (yes, I HIGHLIGHT things as I do them, which is super backward and I realize this.)

What did I accomplish today, you ask? Well I didn't highlight nearly enough in my nine hours staring at the large screen of my Mac. I captured footage in real-time to the computer and then watched it export at the rate of a snail and then sent it to my colleague in America to edit it. I suppose I also learned all about MiFID’s best execution standards (new regulation stuff related to a story I am doing) and wrote a couple news stories and sent a dozen e-mails, but that’s all very boring, so I won’t bother boring you.

I will just eat my hummus and watch Desperate Housewives.

I bet tomorrow will be much the same, but it’s OK. Today I got a package from the parents with candy corn, a camera cord and a bright purple sweater I am wearing proudly. So life is good!

I am now listening to: The ridiculous collection of pop “I miss home/you” music I downloaded while I was bored. Any suggestions to add to my list? (I WAS collecting that sort of “Wide Open Spaces," adventure-themed music, but I have moved on to this kind of sappiness.)

“Hey There Delilah” by Plain White Tees
“Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down
“Landin’ in London” by 3 Doors Down
“You’re Like Comin’ Home” by Emerson Drive
“Home” by Chris Daughtry
“I’ll Be Home For Christmas” by Harry Connick Jr.
“The Promise” by Tracy Chapman
“No Place That Far” by Sara Evans

Aren’t I ridiculous? My favorite thing about life experience is finding the songs to go with it, I ain't gonna lie.

Now John Denver is on -- you know the song. Although it was much more appropriate two months ago.

F A S H I O N

Word of the day: vest
Regular old tank tops are referred to as vests and vest vests are referred to as waistcoats.

What I learned this weekend:

Today (the 11^th day of the 11^th month) was Remembrance Day (BBC background) to commemorate the millions who died in WWI and WWII. All week people have been wearing paper poppies on their lapels to commemorate this. Apparently some younger generations are also tying in the Iraq war with this remembrance. My analysis definitely says that the British are completely capable of being patriotic and protesting at the same time. There is definitely a vibe of "support our troops and not the war."

Also, fireworks are a regular occurrence in November, as yesterday I saw another display for the Lord Mayor's Show (some London hoopla about something that has been going on for a zillion years). I didn't wake up in time to see the traditional parade portion, but I was out my dark at 5 p.m. to see a fancy display of 'works over the Thames.

What I love about London: FASHION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oxford Education
So I FINALLY hit up the famous shopping on Oxford Street. It was perfect timing, as the street was lit up and the big department store windows were decorated for Christmas. It had a magical feel to it, despite being the busiest place I’ve encountered in this usually uncondensed city.

I found 5-pound tank top (vest) with tons of cities on it (my way of finding a fashionable souvenir) in the three glorious floors of H&M. We also witnessed the cheap chaos of Primark. (Like, seriously, this place is cheaper than Steve & Barry's, even with the exchange rate at times!) And of course, I was introduced to the most awesome store that one could never get set foot in in America: Top Shop. It was a little pricey for my current situation, but I felt in awe of its rooms and rooms of fashion's latest sequins and baubles. I would be fine with dying and being buried there immediately.

Big cities keep getting better and better. I mean, can London throw anything else at me to make it even better? I dare it too.

I am now watching: The X Factor, the British version of American Idol; it seems to be even more lackluster than the American show. Sharon Osborne is a judge, as well as snippy Simon Cowell -- but he is definitely not himself without Paula around.