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.