The future's bright, the future's... Orange County?

After my recent Longest Post in History world record attempts, you'll be pleased to know I'm keeping this one short (or at least trying to). It's time to put that unpleasant business behind me and look instead to the future. As Andrew points out, I can and will bounce back - I've done it plenty of times before, although I'd rather roll with things than go bouncing around too much.
Right now, the focus must be on my exams which take place in November. There's a lot of studying to be done before then, so the next few months are likely to be fairly uneventful as I get down to work. It's very important that I pass; although I'm technically entitled to a second attempt under my contract, it would actually expire before I get an opportunity which leaves me vulnerable as there's no precedent for such a situation. I'm sure it'll be fine, but I do need to make sure.
As I anticipate little in the way of personal "news", this blog is going to focus on two areas: firstly, I'm going to start writing a few posts about current issues and affairs, particularly the current oil/environment/economic paradigm. Secondly, I'm also going to talk about the future and what it may hold for me.
With that latter point in mind, I've recently given more thought to my direction once I qualify. Florida is still a strong contender, if I can put it like that; regular readers will know the extent of my love for the people and place. However, it appears increasingly likely that almost everyone I know in Orlando will have moved elsewhere by that time, which reduces the appeal of going to all the effort of moving there. Plus, as Andrew points out, if Al Gore (the Inventor of the Environment, as he was described in the Futurama episode in which he appeared) is correct, most of the state may soon be underwater.
The other option, and one which appeals greatly, is to spend a year or two doing a "100% travel" job. Many multinational organisations employ recently qualified accountants from various countries to travel the globe, performing internal audits of their branches and writing reports for consideration by regional or even global boards. Dull as this may sound, this type of work is exactly what I enjoy doing the most, and combined with the prospect of travelling the globe, all expenses paid and with a generous tax-free salary it seems ideal. The main fly in the ointment is the moral issues it presents - multinationals and air travel are among the least ethical things at present. On the other hand, someone would be doing that job if it weren't - a cliche I know, but true nonetheless.
Those two ideas (with, of course, the variation to the first whereby I settle elsewhere in the US) are definitely top of the list. I definitely don't want to spend too much longer in London, I want to advance my career and also spend some time outside Britain. Another EU country is possible - no immigration or work permit problems, easy to get to from England and I have reasonable French and Spanish. That option just doesn't grab me right now. I guess it'll be a case of wait and see when I get there. I can hardly complain about having too many options! Any suggestions?

Now, a long wait

Note: this post follows on directly from the previous post, so if you didn't read it already I recommend you do, in order to follow the story.

At the end of the last post, you will recall that my dreams were dashed over the period from December 1st-24th, 2005. I didn't officially hear about Kim's engagement until after Christmas, but I was sufficiently sure of it that I told my sister that it had happened almost as soon as it did, without having confirmation. I had such a strong sense about what had happened, in a way I had never felt before. If only I could do the same with the winning lottery numbers!
Christmas itself was in some ways terrible - my parents had no idea what had happened; they still don't. They had met Kim on a number of occasions when she had visited, and I'm sure they assumed that she was my girlfriend and that all was well with it. In some ways, the former assertion was true, in that for a time she was de facto. However, I couldn't really go into all the details and so I had to live out the awfulness of it in private. Winter in England is not a good time for me in any case, owing to the shortage of light. I recall drinking quite a lot, and watching a lot of fairly spurious movies, and playing card games with my sister and her boyfriend.
December 27th came around soon enough, and I was off to Florida. I came up to London, meeting Ambrose on the train at Bristol and staying right here, in this room which Ambrose was renting at the time and which I now occupy. We went off to Heathrow, met Naomi and her parents, flew to Chicago (where there was snow on the ground, as in Somerset) and then on to sunny Orlando. I had previously met with Ambrose in Cardiff shortly before Christmas, when he was hunting for a suitable engagement ring and I was looking for a specific diamond necklace, which I found there and gave to Kim as a Christmas present. She loved it, but it didn't change a whole lot. I did mention briefly to Am the substance of what had taken place; however, I chose not to mention anything of it to anyone else at the time, on the basis that we were going to Florida to celebrate Andrew and Amber's wedding (and, it turned out, Ambrose and Naomi's engagement) and so my shame and not wanting to spoil the party prevented me from mentioning it.
That week, as I published here previously, was fantastic. The wedding was incredibly moving, and the party afterwards was fantastic. I got to know Andrew's family a lot better, especially Richard, Mary and of course Katie, all of whom are wonderful people.
I remember distinctly having a conversation with Andrew and Amber, by the kitchen counter in their house, in which Andrew stated "I think you should move to the United States". On my first visit, in December 2004, I had contemplated moving there, having seen an ad in the Sentinel for our sister firm in the South-East, looking to hire staff such as myself. However, it was only on the wedding trip that I really started to feel like I could make Central Florida my home. That time, I hired a car and was therefore pretty much independent of our hosts (with directions when required, of course). I really felt I "got it" - the whole American thing, that is - and so Andrew's remark really struck a chord with me, which is why I remember it to this day. I realised that Florida offered me much more opportunity, as a person, than anywhere in the UK. I probably have more friends in Orlando than in any other city in the world, despite having only spent a few weeks there, total.
Unfortunately, we had to return to the UK, and I had to face reality. While in Florida, Kim had continued to call me whenever she was lonely; like an idiot, I accepted every call and racked up a £100 phone bill. I guess oftentimes I'm just too soft for my own good. When I got back, I had a long wait for my results, which were eventually published on January 31st. I passed, and had just 28 days to work out what I was going to do next.
With Kim engaged to another man, the remaining accountancy firms in my home town being as unattractive as ever, I resolved to move. I applied to the London office of my firm, and after several administrative cock-ups (including being told I had been rejected, only for that to be retracted within 24 hours) I went for an interview. Much as I wanted to move to the US, I knew I had to remain in the UK until March 07 to complete my qualification. I was emotionally weary, and was almost of the attitude that I couldn't care less. The result of the interview was that I was asked to wait for a few minutes, and then called back in and offered a position there and then. And not just any position - it included a promotion and a payrise amounting to £11k (US$20k). Just goes to show what you can achieve when you don't give a monkey's.
One of the managers who had interviewed me showed me out, and generously pointed out that I only had 15 days to move to London. I went straight home, logged onto a flat-share website, and by sheer luck the first place that came up on my search was the flat I eventually moved into. I came to London to look around and meet my flatmates; they were all happy with me, the room was available for exactly the period I needed, and so I moved in. I guess there are few people who can claim to have found a job and a place to live in London in the space of 5 days. Later, of course, I moved into Ambrose's room as he moved out to Winchester to be near Naomi.

And so, here I am in London, with my college course for finals starting next week. Hindsight has given me a good deal of perspective about things in general. I know for certain I won't be looking at girls who aren't single ever again - even if, as in this case, they initiate it. I'll still continue to be friends with girls just as I always have; I'm not ready to start a relationship until I've sorted out my move to the US, when it'll definitely be single girls only.

If you have any thoughts whatever about this posting marathon, please do comment. I won't be offended by what you think - frankly I'm ashamed enough of the way I acted that nothing anyone could say would increase that. I'd really like to know what y'all think.

A long December

It occurred to me, on my recent flight from London to Sanford, that there's a story which is very important to me which I've nevertheless not told anyone properly. With the benefit of hindsight, I feel it's important that I should get it all out here and now, and hopefully draw a line under the whole shameful business.
Regular readers and personal friends already know of my recent relocation and some of its consequences. However, this is merely the tip of the iceberg of last year's events. December was an interesting, and in many ways very long month to say the least.
Thursday, December 1st 2005 was a typical day in Somerset - overcast, cool but not particularly cold and with showers throughout the day. I was working in the office in Yeovil that day, as was my colleague and friend Kim. Kim had joined the firm in the previous January, from another local firm, but the first time we'd properly spent any time together was when we went to London together for a one-day course on July 14th. This was the one-week anniversary of the 7/7 tragedy, and I felt very strongly that we should take the Tube in defiance of the terrorist threat - so, despite her protests, we did. And we got on very well that day. The following week we spent together working at a client, and I actually went back to her flat for dinner at least one evening.
After that, exam study and work kept us apart (we were taking different qualifications, so weren't at college together) for a while. We both came back into the office in November, and our friendship resumed. It was quite obvious to most people that it might be more than just a friendship, and rumors began to circulate although, at the time, they held no truth. The first indication I got was when she wrote to me, telling me simply that she missed me when I wasn't with her. I found out that she first started to think of me as more than just a friend was when I visited here while she was staying away at college; something changed between us that evening, and I received a text when I got home saying that next time I visited I should stay the night.
Let us return to December 1st, 2005. Somehow, English winter weather has a way of starting to rain at exactly lunchtime, and so it was that day. Luckily, I had a large umbrella with me, so Kim and I huddled under it and made for the nearest sandwich shop. We returned to the office, where I was helping her study for her upcoming exams. Like almost every time I tried to help her study, we actually ended up talking about other stuff instead.
2 o'clock came around remarkably quickly, and all of a sudden we were all called downstairs to the main area on the ground floor. A carefully worded statement was read by the office Managing Partner, to the effect that the office would close early in the New Year. Quel horreur! We were then told we could go home. As it happened, I was having my car windshield replaced that day, so Kim drove me round to the glass place to get my car. We were both pretty much in shock, and upset, and she didn't say a word to me as I left; I offered to stay with her but she waved me away.
For the both of us, this was the worst possible time it could have happened. We both had important exams in December, and such an announcement and future uncertainty were hardly conducive to focussed study. Kim was particularly unsure about hers, as she had not had sufficient time to study owing to work commitments. So I took to going over to her place several times a week to help her out, and she would come visit me at my parents' place. We studied together, cooked for each other, complained about stuff, watched TV. And other things as well. The first time she came to my house, she said those three little words to me - and I have no doubt she meant them.
Later, we went to see the Human League together when, during the song Human, she became so overwhelmed with emotion that her whole body became literally too hot to touch, and she almost fainted. I wrote a song for her (at her request); when I later performed it, she broke down uncontrollably. We did all the normal stuff people do, too.
It seemed perfect, except that like in every movie Hugh Grant ever starred in, there was a huge fly in the ointment. In fact, the whole thing was more like a very large fly with a speck of ointment on it, but never mind. You see, throughout this whole débacle (and I was completely aware of this) she had a boyfriend who she had been with for 5 years. Things were not going well at all between them, it must be said, and that had been the case for some while before I arrived on the scene.
In the aftermath of our office announcement, we were both in a similar position. We both had December exams, with results in the New Year, and therefore no ability to take any action on the future until the results were in. We both had time off to study, and I basically devoted every hour of day and night to getting her through her (very tough) exams. Her boyfriend was no use whatsoever, and seemed almost entirely uncaring. I effectively ran myself into the ground to help her learn what she needed, stay confident and sane and, most importantly, keep going. Often I would get less than an hour's sleep a night because I would be on the phone to her, or driving over there (she lived 25 miles away). My own exam was pretty much unimportant - keeping Kim going was all I cared about. This is the part I feel least ashamed of, because I am convinced that without me she would not have got through it. As it was, she got the pass mark in all three papers, and I must have spent several days with her on each one, not including moral support etc.
As soon as our exams were over (just before Christmas) it all went wrong. Cynics would argue that I had outlived my usefulness; perhaps there was an element of that. On Christmas Eve, we went bowling together and then to lunch. I dropped her off in the afternoon at her place, and was suddenly, unaccountably overtaken by a wave of despair and sadness, and I broke down. I knew something terrible was about to happen, but I knew exactly what it was.
As it turned out, later that evening her boyfriend pulled out a ring and proposed to her. I'm told she considered it for some time, but eventually said 'yes'. It's a bit of a mystery to me - they were clearly in some difficulty before, but a large diamond seemed to put paid to all the problems. Maybe I didn't see it all clearly; who knows? I was about to go off to Florida for Andrew and Amber's wedding, which she knew; therefore, she decided that it would be better if she kept this from me until I got back so as to "not ruin my holiday". I guess this was well-meaning, if misguided; eventually, however, my conviction about what had happened was so strong that I just called her up and made her tell me.
I do feel an incredible sense of shame about the whole thing. Admittedly, I didn't instigate it exactly; I was completely in love and did what I felt was best at the time. However, the whole fact that I was essentially attempting to persuade her to leave her long-term boyfriend does worry me a lot. I feel I acted somewhat immorally, although I was "just responding to my feelings". On the one hand, I feel she might not have survived the whole thing without me; on the other, it's never acceptable to try and break up an established couple, and it's certainly not something I would ever actively seek to do ever again.
So it was that I went off to Florida with my heart smashed and no idea where to go next. My job and the love of my life had both been taken from me within the space of a month; I felt as if I no longer had a home which could offer me anything. I still feel that my home town, much as I love it, has betrayed me both professionally and personally. The one certainty, going forward, is that I really do want to move to the United States. It's late now, so I must go to bed - but more on this story later.

Oh no, I can't stand this...

... was the repeated tagline from Peace at Last, a storybook I used to love as a child. I'm not sure why it came to mind - perhaps the fact I, like the character Mr. Bear, haven't gotten too much sleep recently.

The picture above, like the one on the previous post below, was taken from the airplane on my flight back to London this weekend. I'm normally not a fan of flying, or of leaving Florida, but this flight was truly magical. The fact I was sitting with a ghost may have helped, along with the extra legroom. But the main thing was the clear skies and the incredible views resulting. The flight took us all the way up the eastern seaboard of the United States, over Newfoundland and across the Atlantic. The two pictures posted here are of the only cloudy bit - over the Carolinas - which were actually the only ones that came out (the others were just photos of glare on the plane window). The rest of the flight I was able to look down over the East Coast and admire the beauty of the world and the American continent. All my normal nerves of flying were completely forgotten.

Unfortunately, my week of fun and yesterday's dumbass schedule paid back today when I literally couldn't stay awake at work. I woke up with a start as my head started to fall forward on so many occasions I lost count. No amount of coffee, diet pepsi or ice water would prevent me from dozing off, sometimes even while having a conversation with someone! Of course, it's now 12.30pm and I feel wide awake and not at all like sleeping.

Just before I force myself to go to sleep, I should point out the very first thing I did this morning when I got to the office was... book the period from Christmas Eve to January 8th as leave. Y'all know where I'll be.

Feeling Krocsyldiphithic

So here I am, back in London after a week staying with Andrew and family in Orlando. In the words of Destroyer, "All good things must come to an end/The bad ones just go on forever" - which seems all too true at the moment. My body doesn't know what time it is, which doesn't help (rather than be sensible and go to sleep when I got in, I went straight out to 10am Mass and then met Chris and Neil for lunch, beers and coffee, and then did go to sleep around 5pm. It's now 7pm and I'm confused).

It was an awesome week. Nothing earthshattering happened, but then I'm not really an earthshattering event type of guy. We hung out, went pawn-shop-hopping, visited Thurston and Jamie and their three beautiful children, went to the beach - all regular type stuff, but cool nonetheless. This may just be the jetlag talking, but it didn't seem like I was there for just a week. I love the place, the people - I don't think I ever met a Floridian I didn't like - (in short, I just love it) and somehow my visits seem to take on a sort of epic feel. Going back to work is going to take some getting used to.

I'm not going to relive the trip in detail here - that would be boring - but I will give mention to an odd feeling that grew on me during my stay. Whenever we would hang out, no matter where we were, I always had the sense that someone was missing from the room. You know the feeling you get when you're with a bunch of people and someone goes out of the room to use the bathroom or fix a drink; you don't notice them leave, but when you look up, you feel someone is missing even though you can't immediately identify who or where they've gone. Well I had this feeling all week, except I would look around the room and everyone would be there; no-one would actually be missing. I've sometimes had the feeling before, but never over such an extended period. This was capped, in almost synchronicitous fashion, by the fact that the seat next to me on the flight home was empty (I think the check-in agent took a liking to me, as she gave me the best seat on the 'plane). I don't know for sure where this feeling has come from or why I have it, although I have one pretty obvious idea.

I should take this opportunity to express my gratitude to Amber, Andrew, Mary, Richard and everyone else who showed me such great hospitality and kindness during my stay. I really do appreciate it, and y'all are welcome in London any time (until I move to Florida, that is).

For those of you pondering the title of the post, I realise Krocsyldiphithic is not a real word (it's a South Park reference) but I do sorta sympathise with Kyle being asked to spell it. "Can I have a definition please" "Krocsyldiphitic - something which has a Krocsyldiph-like quality". That's kinda how my life is right now, frustrating and impervious to rational thought. I know it'll improve - I just need to get on with moving and settling down. Damn this period of limbo!