A Brand New Gig

I have always said that my time was worth more to me then anything in the world. Even if I chose to waste it by banging my head on the wall for hours, at least it was my decision to do that. Don't get me wrong, I'm aware that in this world, except for the very rare occasion, you need to work. Preferably in something you enjoy. After my wedding day, I came back to London and had two interviews for two completely different positions. One here in London, working in retail sales, the companies not important, and the other working in Stowmarket, which is about a two and a half hour commute each way, as a process engineer, oddly enough, for the company I had just left in america. Apparently I'm a company man and I didn't even know.  That's a different story however. 

In the end, I was offered both positions and was forced to actually pit my mouth versus my career. Something that most of you will already know that my mouth generally wins. I seem to be unable to keep my mouth shut when I should when I disagree with something. It was actually to the point in which it was actually mentioned in my goodbye lunch by my manager that things would be a lot quieter without me. I took that as a compliment even thought it really wasn't. This time however, I actually chose to be a career person. I took the job in Stowmarket and am preparing to learn to love the train. I mean, I know that I will lose 5 hours a day to travel,  1300 hours in a year, and that is 22% of my waking life will be commuting to work. Wait, why I am doing this again?? Focus.... Yeah, even if I'm commuting a lot, I really like London, and I don't think that it is feasible for me to move out of it here. Think, if I think that London moves slowly and all the people outside London say it moves too fast for them, I would probably snap out there. Second, it's not like I can't bang my head for the hours on the train. It still is in essence my time to do with as I please. I figure that I can always turn my train time to my google reader time. 

The other great thing that I have learnt is that even if this is England, the birth place of english, a language I thought that I had a good grasp of, it's going to be fun trying to learn how to speak to everyone. I've now been in London for 5 months and am starting to understand what the hell people are talking about. As well as learning what you can and cannot say. Ie, you can't say pants in this country, it doesn't mean pants, it means underwear. So when I say something like I'm just going to put my pants over my shorts here I get some really strange looks. You also can't say your double fisting beers, that means all kinds of inappropriate things and not you have a beer in both hands. Finally, when asked what I was planning on doing with my very first paycheck I made the common joke I generally make - "Waste it on Hookers and Blow." I still haven't learnt what that one means, but the look of horror on the face of the poor brit I was with was enough to know that it wasn't good. But in Stowmarket, it's a whole new bag of chips. a new slang that I need to learn and a new accent again. During my interview I found myself so confused most of the time it was almost like when in Morenci people would start speaking spanglish at me. I mean, even couple words I would get but the gist of the topic? Hell no. We'll have to see how this one plays out. 

But yeah, enough ranting, as of June 6th I will no longer be a house husband and have to go back into the real world. The only thing that I'm not sure of is whether this place is quite ready for the adventures that seemingly come with me. 

Promotion

So, the rumors are true. I have gotten promoted. I am no longer a house fiance and am now a true house husband. In all reality if you are reading this you would most likely know this because you either saw the event in person or at least already knew about the wedding. Since it has now been almost two weeks and since most people already know the stories, I thought I would keep it short and highlight some of my personal favorites.

First one has to be the moments just moments before the actual wedding where one of the readers comes in to wish me and the groomsmen luck and chat for a few. So we were in a little room in the back that obviously served as the priests getting ready area as it was full of extra staves and robes. Chatting away, a nameless groomsmen and the said reader took notice of the staves and things went decidedly downhill quickly and then I heard a comment I was sure meant that I would be smote at that moment.
                           "Hey, lets do religious jousting! You be Jesus, I'll be Satan!"
At least one thing was for sure, we weren't stressing out before the wedding. Well maybe a little, but that was just me stressing if lightning was going to come out of the sky and strike down this mess of a group.

Second one also goes to a groomsmen of mine, unfortunately. Before I get into details, when someone who is planning a food event for you and asks about your allergies, it's generally not to be polite, but more to be sure that they don't get you killed. He had been so worried about making sure that his wife was able to eat with her allergies that he forgot to mention that he was allergic to something. Beets I think, or was it radish? It doesn't matter at this point, so I'm going with beets. And you guessed it, said vegetable was part of the main course. Also, it was a species that when presented the way it was didn't really look like beets. It's always fun to have an emergency phone call to Colorado to find out the severity of a allergy at the wedding. Sometime I wonder how my friends have made it this far in life. Know that I only joke because I know that he is okay. Apparently he wasn't deathly allergic.

The Killer Vegetable

Last story has got to be the story of the health of the bride and groom. So, we arrived in Vancouver on the 22nd and immediately, Rebecca comes down with strep throat. I being the loving husband that I am graciously laugh at her misfortune and joke about how instead of a first kiss we will have a first cough. This ends up with the obvious occurring and I get strep as well (which I'm not sure has cleared up, but I mean with endless boozing and very little sleep I don't know how it would possibly stay. Cam assured me that the cure to strep was to drink Sauza, then mix this Southern Comfort so I'm sure I'm be fine).  We go the entire week and make it out alive, I bet that Nat, Dan, and Jen may argue based on the level of movement we participated in on Monday after all events. Then to top all of this off, I get back to London and it appears that I have turned into a dalmatian and developed spots. Great! now I have measles and am literally quarantined for 5 days.

Look you can play connect the dots on my arm!

No matter what happened though, I can say that it was an amazing week. We got to go back home, spend time with all out friends and family, and in the end signed a piece of paper that just makes official what was already known. So I thank all of those who were there, and am sorry to those that missed it. It was quite the adventure.