In 30 years, when I’m the CEO of BP or Chevron or Shell or better yet, ExxonBPChevronocoPhillipShell – the modern day incarnation of Standard Oil – will I still have a blog?

Will I post photos of my Mediterranean vacation while lounging on the deck of my yet to be named yacht? (Don’t worry, I’m working on a list). Will Greenpeace use the photos to pinpoint my exact location, and then continually circle my yacht in their noisy motorized rubber rafts while they loudly bang on drums and shout cliche slogans?

ill-gotten gains

Will I still allow comments, or will they be flooded by angry consumers? “F U LINDSAY!!! THE PRICE OF GAS IS TOO HIGH! IT COST ME $100 TO FILL UP MY F-850 CREW CAB LAST NIGHT!”

Will I even have time to post on this blog in between rounds of golf at Pebble Beach, meeting with Russian President whatshisname-anov, and flying around in a helicopter visiting all of my offshore oil rigs? Maybe I could delegate the posting and picture uploading to one of my assistants.

Or would my Board of Directors and shareholders hand me the ultimatum: “shut down the blog or else…”, thereby forcing me underground to blog anonymously under the moniker “BigOilCEO_9″.

This is what runs through my mind as I contemplate changing the fonts of a PowerPoint presentation from 22 to 24.

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Saw this article on MSNBC last night and had to laugh: Got problems? Blame the Californians

Apparently, Californians are to blame for all the ills that plague our neighbors in the Western United States:

“California has a negative influence on our society,” he said, glancing around as cigarette smoke fills the stuffy place. “They should keep their world in their world.”

It’s a popular refrain from many in the West. When Californians move in, it’s always their fault when things change. They infect the rest of the region with their politics and questionable driving, and make housing prices soar.

“They are sort of like the West Coast version of the New Yorkers. They have the attitude.”

Blaming us for soaring housing prices is one thing, but comparing us to New Yorkers? That hurts. That really, really hurts. You Golden State haters can get your wine and avocados from Montana.

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While the rest of America drools over the Spiderman 3 and Simpsons trailers (whatev), I’ve been tracking the progress of P.T. Anderson’s (Boogie Nights, Punch Drunk Love) latest film, “There Will Be Blood.” Slated to open in October/November 2007 (gawwdaaamn so far away), “There Will Be Blood” is loosely adapted from Upton Sinclair’s 1927 novel, “Oil!”

I had never heard of this novel until a few years ago when – randomly bored and in search of something to read that had nothing to do with Russia – I raided my brother’s bookshelf for some literature. When I came across “Oil!”, I was like, hey, a book about my two favorite topics – oil and California! The novel focuses on “Bunny” Ross, a young man who is increasingly torn between a sense of loyalty to his oil baron father and his growing sympathy with the striking workers in his father’s SoCal oil fields. Sinclair seamlessly weaves a multitude of themes within this novel: the SoCal oil boom, big business and government corruption, evangelism, and the influence of the Russian revolution on American labor unions. This was a hard book to put down, and I’d definitely place it on my top ten list.

Anderson is a great director and it seems like he is truly passionate about this project, so I’m excited to see how he adapts one of my favorite novels (and plus, is that not one of the coolest movie names ever?). Only six months to go…

Yeah, I’ll be camping outside the theatre the night before it opens (obv, there will be a huge line)…just like those Star Wars geeks, dressed up as….wait, WTF would you dress up as for this movie?

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It had to be said. Can you truthfully say that this quarter represents the Great State of California?!

All we got here is an effin’ condor attacking some old bearded dude with a cane. Oh, wait, that’s John Muir.
Granted, Yosemite is a rather important part of California, but where are the palm trees, beaches, Golden Gate bridge, Hollywood sign, flip-flops, George Clooney, avocados, wine, and, most importantly, In-N-Out? Of course, all of this could not fit on one quarter. We should get at least 10 quarters to showcase the awesomeness that is California. I’m sorry, but why do states like New Hampshire and Vermont get an entire quarter to themselves? I forget they even exist. At the most, they should get a dime.

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Temperature was a pleasant 77 degrees and sunny on Thursday. Wore my flip-flops, left the coat at home, threw the winter gear in the corner of my room. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “spring is finally here. Life is good.”

And then Thursday it started pouring rain, continued all day Friday, and even SNOWED.

W…T…F?

To top it off, ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS SURFING.

I’m so bored with this city. Everyday I mentally calculate how much of my stuff I could fit in my car, and how long it would take me to drive to California.

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Here’s a few more recently upped photos of LSE friends – some from my dorm (Bankside represent) and others from my Russian & Post-Soviet Studies (RPSS) program. The theme for this week is drinking, or whatever.

This is a pic of Omar from the Bankside boat party held at the beginning of term. Possibly the greatest neighbor you could ask for, he had excellent taste in music and was a constant source of entertainment during dinnertime when we were forced to endure the culinary disaster that is British dorm food. “What is this? This…this…fishcake?!” Watch out for this dude, though – he’s like a Moroccan version of Andy Fastow. There’s no telling what he learned in those finance classes…

At a bar in Notting Hill, drinking some of that delicious Belgian fruit flavored beer – Me, Mathias, Taline, Erin, Hudson

Moira, myself, and Jessica at the Great British Beer Festival. I totally shoulda been working on my dissertation instead of spending 12 hours here.

Crystal and I enjoying Snakebites at a pub in Holborn after watching the “Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah’s couch” video a million times at the LSE library (Dissertation, whatever)

BBQ on Olga’s rooftop. Olga says she isn’t mentioned enough on this blog except for the snowboarding post, so check it dude, I’m giving you props here. Olga had the effin’ sweetest flat ever right on the Thames. That’s the Tate Modern right there in the back…my dorm was right behind the Tate Modern.

Take some Americans, Russians, Germans, French, British, Canadians and an Iranian. Add vodka. Mix thoroughly. Drink. Repeat. This being a party hosted by Olga, the vodka, of course, was the wonderful Russki Standart:

Hudson, Alec, Olga, Mathias

Erin, I have no idea who this guy is, Crystal, Taline, Hudson

Erin, Taline, Crystal, and I at Taline’s rooftop party in Notting Hill during one of those beautiful summer nights in London. Taline, like Olga, also had an amazing flat that was near some of the greatest pubs in the city.

One of a million toasts at Taline’s infamous birthday party (Taline also thinks she is not on this website enough, hopefully this post will rectify that a bit). I swear to God, everytime a group of us RPSS alums meet up, this party will eventually come up.

“That blood was still on the wall five months later!”

“I was just standing there and someone handed me a plate…that was on fire.”

It never gets old…for us, at least.

And with that, I have to go figure out how to do my taxes.

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This was a lazy weekend. The laziest of the lazy, except for two hours of soccer practice in which we (my soccer team) found ourselves strenuously running up and down the National Mall, doing our best to avoid the tourists that dared wander onto our field. The weather was perfect (mid 60s). True, it could have been a bit warmer, but after 20 degree temps, I’ll take what I can get.

I had a million things to do this weekend, but had an excuse for each of them.

File taxes? Eh, I still have a month.

Register for classes? I’m sure they won’t fill up just yet.

Clean my room? Whateverrrrrrr.

Instead, I spent three hours on Saturday researching MD-VA-DE beaches. Any hint of warm weather automatically does it to me. OMG THE SUN! SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE! Growing up in California, summers were spent at the beach, which meant surfing seven days a week for two months straight. Summers in DC are almost unbearable. Humid, sticky, and no beach in sight, just miles and miles of asphalt and concrete crowded with thousands of tourists. Last summer I would bang my head incessantly against my desk while watching Surfline’s 30 second Oceanside camera (really, quite a productive use of my time). I wanted to go to the beach so badly it hurt. But, two minor obstacles: no car and no board.

Well, problem number one was solved back in October when I bought the XTerra. I had been mulling over the idea all summer, but it wasn’t until I went back to California for Labor Day weekend that it really occurred to me…”If I had a car…I could drive…to the beach. Perhaps I should buy one.” Effin’ brilliant, Lindsay, just, you know, putting that education to work.

Now that problem number one is solved, I just need to buy a board, so I’m planning to hit up a few shops in April. I have three boards in California but it’s not worth it to ship any of them back here, especially if I end up moving back someday. By far my favorite is my 6′10″ egg, which I’ll be looking to duplicate out here, but maybe add a few inches to make it 7′.

As for where to surf, everyone says Ocean City, MD or the Outer Banks in NC. Both are pain in the ass drives (3 hours for OC, more for NC), but not much you can do about that. I’ve been intrigued by Assateague National Seashore, which is near Ocean City, but not at all developed (and therefore, less crowded), being a National Park and all. From what I’ve read, there are some surfable, albeit small waves in the summer that work best if you’ve got a longer board. If you’ve got a 4X4 you can drive on the beach, and if you want to camp, they will let you do that.

I’ve been drilling every local I can about the beaches they go to, especially Assateague.

“Oh yeah, Assateague. There are ponies there.” (Apparently there are wild ponies that populate the island)

“Forget about the ponies! What are the waves like?!”

A useless question if you’re asking someone who doesn’t surf. Better to just ask Google, wannasurf, and Surfline.

Anyways, Assateague looks like it could have some good days:

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Well, it was hard to keep this list to just five, but here are a few songs that “hit” me (i.e., actually make you think, reminisce, identify with the lyrics, whatever) in no particular order:

Ben Folds – Landed
If you wrote me off
I’d understand it
Cause I’ve been on
Some other planet
So come pick me up
I’ve landed

Counting Crows – Long December
And it’s been a long December and there’s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
And it’s one more day up in the canyon
And it’s one more night in Hollywood
It’s been so long since I’ve seen the ocean…I guess I should

Her Space Holiday – Sleepy California
It’s just Sleepy California
But I just hope they know
It’s just Sleepy California
How much I really care
It’s just Sleepy California
How I want the best for them
It’s just Sleepy California
Even though I’m hardly there

Athlete – Tourist
This European air
it always warms my face
I wish I could buy some
I will bring you stories
And bleary-eyed photos
like a regular tourist

Something Corporate – Down
Wish upon a star but
Do you know what stars are?
Balls of fire, burning up the black space
Falling from the landscape
Exploding in the face of God
Let’s get crazy,
Talk about our big plans
Places that you’re going
Places that I haven’t been
Build my walls up
Concrete castle
Keep this kingdom free of hassle, yeah

Honorable mentions that you should download (I guess I couldn’t really keep the list to five after all):
Young Dubliners – Foggy Dew
Dispatch – The General
Подмосковные вечера (aka “Moscow Nights”)
The Postal Service – The District Sleeps Alone Tonight
The Used – The Taste of Ink
Chronic Future – Time and Time Again
Something Corporate – Cavanaugh Park
Beach Boys – Sloop John B
Third Eye Blind – Motorcycle Drive By

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Despite having left London in September 2005, I still have yet to upload all the photos from the year I spent there. Here’s a few from the popular London tourist attraction, Madame Tussauds wax museum, otherwise known as the most famous “tourist trap” in the city. Crystal and I went there one late summer afternoon after spending the day stuck inside the library working on our dissertations.

The staff has a lot of fun arranging the wax figures according to the most recent tabloid headlines. When we visited, Brad Pitt was separated from Jennifer Aniston and moved next to Angelina Jolie. Scandalous, indeed.

Brad Pitt’s wax figure is “pinchable.” Other wax figures, such as Vladimir Putin are not.

OMGWTF Ronald Reagan is back from the dead

Crystal passing along a few military secrets to Putin

A metrosexual, pink shirt-wearing John Wayne

George Clooney, such a romantic guy

“Uh, I dunno, Napoleon. You really think invading Russia is such a good idea?”

“UN, you have a problem with that? You know what you should do? You should sanction me. Sanction me with your army. Oh!! Wait a minute! You don’t have an army! I guess that means you need to STFU!” (obligatory Chappelle’s Show reference)

I met him after Rumsfeld did

Madame Tussauds is more than just wax figures, however. We went into the Chamber of Horrors which was like a haunted house – really scary and made us scream a lot and we ran through it as quickly as possible. The guy dressed up as Hannibal Lecter kept following us, which was totally bizarre. After that we went on the “Spirit of London” ride where you sit in this little black cab and are taken on a ride through 400 years of London’s history. This includes the plague, which is represented by animatronic rats nibbling on dead bodies, and an Austin Powers-ish conclusion starring a psychedelic, rotating Queen Elizabeth.

The last stop on our visit to Madame Tussauds was the planetarium. Yes, a planetarium. It was educational, but after it was over we were like “What does that have to do with celebrity wax figures?”
I know that after reading this, you are all ready to buy a ticket to London so you can see the wax museum for yourself. Well, come Fall 2007, you’ll just have to ride the red/orange/blue lines to Metro Center in order to visit Washington’s very own Madame Tussauds!

The $16 million project, now in design, is slated to include replicas of the Constitution and Declaration of Independence; interactive experiences involving the history of Washington; and a replica of the Oval Office, where visitors can have their picture taken. President Abraham Lincoln is the designated “greeter,” so his likeness is likely to be the first visitors see upon entering.

Replicas of the Constitution and Declaration of Independence? Who needs to see the real things anyways?

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Height restrictions WTF?

This has been in the Russian papers for the past year, but a few weeks ago, the Washington Post ran an interesting article about the development of “Gazprom City”, a large office complex situated on the banks of the Neva River in St. Petersburg:

Twisting as it rises 77 stories, the planned office development known as Gazprom City is testament to the muscle of Russia’s richest company. A flickering gas flame captured in soaring glass, the design is also an ode to the country’s energy-driven boom.

But the 1,300-foot skyscraper to be built on the Neva River across from the pastel-blue-and-white Smolny Cathedral will loom over a baroque cityscape famous for the Hermitage art museum and the Peter and Paul Cathedral, among dozens of other historic landmarks.

In an effort to boost the prestige of St. Petersburg (aka score some effin’ sweet tax breaks and curry favor with St. Pete native Vlad Putin), Gazprom will be moving the headquarters of its Gazprom Neft (formerly Sibneft) subsidiary from Moscow to St. Petersburg. The citizens of that fair city, including a growing number of representatives from the local arts and culture scene, aren’t exactly happy about it, though:

“Even if it were made of solid gold,” said Vladimir V. Popov, the president of the Union of Architects of St. Petersburg, “it would nevertheless kill the city.”

Like Washington, DC, St. Petersburg is a very “horizontal” city – buildings are rarely higher than a few stories:

That the city’s zoning laws forbid anything in that area higher than 48 meters, or 157 feet, appears to be no obstacle, recalling a Russian aphorism. “It is forbidden,” it goes, “but if you really want it, then it is possible.” Gazprom officials said they would have the law changed.

Want Gazprom wants, Gazprom gets, comrade. You think a measly little zoning law is going to get in the way of Russia’s largest company? With some 16% of the world’s natural gas reserves, Gazprom and its oil subsidiary, Gazprom Neft, (119 billion barrels of reserves) are the bread and butter of the Russian economy. I guarantee you, ain’t nothin’ getting in the way of this 77 story behemoth.

I don’t think the actual design of the building is that bad, and some of the other proposals were intriguing as well, but this building just does not fit with the splendid baroque palaces and neoclassical churches that are spread throughout the city’s center. Build this in LA or Houston, but pleeeeease leave St. Pete alone. It is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited, and I’d hate to see this building ruin the skyline.

If you’d like to see Petersburg pre-Gazprom City fugliness, I suggest you start searching for airline tickets and filling out your Russian visa application now. Oh yeah, and go at the end of June to see the city in all of its White Nights glory.

A century – and that city young,
Gem of the Northern world, amazing,
From gloomy wood and swamp upsprung,
Had risen, in pride and splendor blazing.

God, Pushkin would be rolling in his grave if he knew about this.

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