Archive | June, 2005
June 10, 2005

I want to go on this trip!

Everyone at LSE received this e-mail today:

Announcing the…
LSE/OXBRIDGE CUBA TRIP – an LSE/OxBridge premier!
(open to all students, alumni, staff, faculty and family)
The Che Guevara Tour
Tour Dates:
13-23 July 2005 (confirmed)
24 August-3 September 2005 (subject to demand)
Celebrate the culture of Cuba – while Fidel is still around!
Marlins, 30 degrees, Che Guevara, Cuban cigars, jazz, rum, Mojitos, Hemingway, Castro, fun in the sun, beaches, sportfishing, Caribbean nightlife, salsa lessons, stunning ecological reserves and eco-tourism activities, cultural immersion lectures at the University of Havana, and more!
11 Unforgettable Days in Havana, Vinales & the surrounding beaches/countryside!

I’ve always wanted to go to Cuba…it’s supposed to be amazingly beautiful and I’ve heard that the people are incredibly friendly. At $2,300, the trip is just a bit too expensive, though! Someday I’ll make it over there.

PinExt I want to go on this trip!
June 9, 2005

Congrats to my brother

john.jpg

He’s graduating from high school today. Unfortunately, being 5,500 miles away, I couldn’t make it to the ceremony…sorry about that, John!

john Congrats to my brother

He’s going to Cal State Northridge to study film, and will eventually end up as a famous movie director raking in millions while I’m trying to avoid being killed in some former Soviet republic. Maybe he can make a movie about it.

PinExt Congrats to my brother
June 9, 2005

So yeah…

After going through my inbox, I’ve realized that there is a lot of e-mail I haven’t responded to. This is due to the fact that it is finals period and I have been immersing myself in interesting topics such as “intervention in markets of violence”, the Moldovan-Transnistrian conflict, and Islamic fundamentalism in Central Asia. I know…very, very exciting. Oh God, please…make…it…stop.

Anyways, since most of the people who have sent me e-mails read this site, I’ll just say that I promise I will reply to everyone’s e-mails after finals…that is, after myself and my classmates enjoy numerous pints at the Three Tuns. Ah, I can taste the snakebites and Strongbows already.

Oh, and if anyone wants a Gmail account, let me know, because I have a trillion invitations (well, not a trillion, obviously, but a lot). I swear to God, Gmail is the most amazing e-mail service there is…trust me on this. I’m trying to convert as many people to Gmail as possible. Believe in the gospel that is Gmail!

Now…must…get…back…to…work.

PinExt So yeah...
June 7, 2005

Random tube ad

tube_ad_rm.jpg

I was waiting at the Notting Hill Gate tube stop a few days ago and saw this ad:

tube ad rm Random tube ad

My camera phone didn’t take a very good photo, but the top says “Opodo knows the 5 best places on earth to pretend to be a rock star” and the fifth best place is “The Betty Ford Center, Rancho Mirage, California.”
I never thought I would see an ad in London with the words “Rancho Mirage” on it. Rancho Mirage is the city I grew up in before we moved to Palm Desert when I was a senior in high school…not that it really matters, considering they are right next to each other. Do you know how hard it is to explain to people over here the concept of “the Coachella Valley”? When most people think of a city or town, they assume there is some sort of distance between it and other cities, but that’s not what it is like where I live. (“Er, well, no, I actually live in Palm Desert…but it’s like 15 minutes away from Palm Springs…but you see, all the cities there are interconnected…so it’s almost like one city, but not really…uh, actually, nevermind.”)

Anyways, yay for Rancho Mirage for getting some publicity. Palm Springs is, like, so passe

PinExt Random tube ad
June 5, 2005

You know you’re from London when…

So I’m not actually from London, but I’ve lived here long enough to identify with a few things (identifiable via oh-so-cool bolded font) on this list that Crystal e-mailed to all of us as we were studying for our IR final:

You say “the city” and expect everyone to know which one.
You have never been to The Tower or Madame Tussauds but love Brighton.
You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Shepherd’s Bush to Elephant & Castle at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can’t find Dorset on a map.
Hookers and the homeless are invisible.
You step over people who collapse on the tube.
You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multi-lingual.
You’ve considered stabbing someone.
Your door has more than three locks.
Your favourite movie has Hugh Grant in it.
You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.
You call an 8′ x 10′ plot of patchy grass a garden.
You know where Karl Marx is buried.
You consider Essex the “countryside”
You think Hyde Park is “nature.”
You’re paying �1,200 a month for a studio the size of a walk-in wardrobe and you think it’s a “bargain.”
Shopping in suburban supermarkets and shopping malls gives you a severe attack of agoraphobia.
You’ve been to Tooting twice and got hopelessly lost both times.
You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the UK pay in rent.
You haven’t seen more than twelve stars in the night sky since you went camping as a kid.
You own hiking boots and a 4WD vehicle, neither of which have ever touched dirt.
You haven’t heard the sound of true absolute silence since 1977, and when you did, it terrified you.
You pay �3 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28p.
You actually take fashion seriously.
Being truly alone makes you nervous.
You have 27 different menus next to your telephone.
The UK west of Heathrow is still theoretical to you.
You’re suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.
You haven’t cooked a meal since helping mum last Christmas with the turkey.
Your idea of personal space is no one actually standing on your toes.
�50 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag.
You have a minimum of five “worst cab ride ever” stories.
You don’t hear sirens anymore.
You’ve mentally blocked out all thoughts of the city’s air quality and what it’s doing to your lungs.
You live in a building with a larger population than most towns.
Your cleaner is Russian, your grocer is Korean, your deli man is Israeli, your landlord is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favourite bartender is Irish, your favourite diner owner is Greek, the watch-seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsagent is Indian and your favourite falafel guy is Egyptian.
You wouldn’t want to live anywhere else until you get married.
You say ‘mate’ constantly
Anyone not from London is a ‘wanker’
Anyone from outside London and north of the Watford Gap is a ‘Northern Wanker’
You have no idea where the North is.
You see All Saints in the Met Bar (again) and find it hard to get excited about it.
The countryside makes you nervous
Somebody speaks to you on the tube and you freak out thinking they are a stalker.
You talk in postcodes. “God, it was really warm round SW1 the other day”
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from London.

Oh, and I was at the grocery store yesterday (the Sainsbury’s Local, which is nothing more than a glorified 7-11) and they had completely run out of toilet paper! What is this, the USSR?

Henceforth, the Sainsbury’s at 120 Borough High Street shall now be referred to as “Soviet Sainsbury’s”.

PinExt You know youre from London when...
June 2, 2005

All of GW’s men

watergate_hova_outside.jpg

Well, we finally know who Deep Throat is…Mark Felt, former associate director of the FBI. Honestly, the whole thing feels kind of anti-climatic. I don’t know why…it’s just like “OMG, we know who Deep Throat is now!”

“Who is it?”

“Mark Felt!”

“Oh, OK. So, how about those Nats, eh?”

So, how did Bob Woodward and Mark Felt meet? It seems that in 1970, when young Woodward was a dashing lieutenant in the U.S. Navy, he was sent to the White House to drop off a package. Upon meeting Felt, he discovered that they had something in common:
During that year in Washington, I expended a great deal of energy trying to find things or people who were interesting. I had a college classmate who was going to clerk for Chief Justice Warren E. Burger, and I made an effort to develop a friendship with that classmate. To quell my angst and sense of drift, I was taking graduate courses at George Washington University. One course was in Shakespeare, another in international relations.

When I mentioned the graduate work to Felt, he perked up immediately, saying he had gone to night law school at GW in the 1930s before joining — and this is the first time he mentioned it — the FBI. While in law school, he said, he had worked full time for a senator — his home-state senator from Idaho. I said that I had been doing some volunteer work at the office of my congressman, John Erlenborn, a Republican from the district in Wheaton, Ill., where I had been raised.

So we had two connections — graduate work at GW and work with elected representatives from our home states.

And through these connections, they developed a friendship…and the rest is history. I expect that in the next few days GW Public Relations will issue a press release claiming some credit for bringing down the Nixon Presidency.

Ah, that reminds me, another GW-Watergate link that GW loves to talk about: The Hall on Virginia Avenue dorm.

watergate hova outside All of GWs men

I was one of the lucky freshman that scored a room at 2601 Virginia Avenue, the former Howard Johnson hotel right across the street from the Watergate (yes, my dorm was a former hotel, and yes, it was awesome…not many college freshman can say they were “neighbours” with Bob Dole, Condoleezza Rice, and Paul O’Neill…uhh wait, is that a good thing?).

On the 7th floor of HOVA, in room 723, you could find the former surveillance post of the Watergate burglary team. From this room, they monitored conversations between DNC officials, and, on the night of June 16, 1972, a lookout watched from the balcony while the rest of the group broke into the Democratic Party’s headquarters to fix the wiretaps. And what a great job that lookout did, eh?

But there is a lesser known room that was rented by the Watergate burglar James McCord (also a GW alum, haha) as a meeting place for McCord, Howard Hunt, and G. Gordon Liddy before they moved up to the 7th floor. It was room 419:

watergate hova 419 All of GWs men

Guess which room I lived in?

watergate hova 419 sign lk lf All of GWs men

PinExt All of GWs men
June 2, 2005

Blackmail!

lindsay_fake_no_drilling.jpg

From: Sholts,C (pgt)
Sent: Sunday, May 29, 2005 11:39 PM
To: Fincher,LT (pgt)
Cc: San,T (pgt)

Subject: The Sleeping on the Ferry Picture

I really hope you’ve thought about taking that picture down. I would hate for this evidence of your pre-LSE life to make it out on the web. . .

lindsay fake no drilling Blackmail!

HAHAHA! Nice work with Photoshop, Crystal, but the ferry photo stays…for now…

PinExt Blackmail!
June 1, 2005

So true…

dilbert_british.gif

dilbert british So true...

dilbert british 2 So true...

(Thanks to Cindy for e-mailing them to me)
Will post the new ones if the theme continues for the rest of the week.

PinExt So true...