changing my initials.

So on tuesday (14th Dec) I had the inevitable Ph.D. viva (voce). For a Ph.D. student, this is the ultimate culmination of one's research (in my case, four years) and determines if their research is essentially 'worth it'. Not only does it assess your actual work, it examines your ability to do research in the future. So, it would have been perfectly normal to have been extremely nervous. Except, in this case, I wasn't. I had been dutifully prepared by members within my own department with a mock viva on the previous thursday. I had also been battling a gum infection (due to an invading wisdom tooth) and a flu so the first thing on my mind was actually getting back to full strength. Somehow, this sickness actually gave me (mental) strength and gave me the confidence to know that there was not a question they could ask that I wouldn't at least have an intelligible answer for.

So the day had come. I rented a car in advance so that I wouldn't be late. or even risk the chance of being late. I wanted to be sure. And the last thing I wanted was to walk and show up sweating buckets. That would have put me off immediately. I woke up extra early and made my way to the the Sports Tech Institute. I didn't risk eating breakfast in case of indigestion. And I had thought that it was only going to be a couple hours so it wouldn't be long until I ate anyway (oh and I also secretly thought there would be snacks as it was common to see cookies!). Well, nothing really turned out like I thought it would. There were no tricky philosophical questions. Instead, they were sound, probing questions that really made sure I understand what I did and why. The two hour mark at which I had hoped to finish was actually now the half-way point. The bathroom break, if you will. I can remember thinking at this time: "what have i done?.. what a massive error on my part to do a ph.d.!!!" But throughout the process, my answers were free-flowing and never forced. Perhaps, I actually was ready. Three and a half hours later and the interrogation was over. I had struggled to hold back a smile on my face when I knew the end was near... questions on chapter 10 were like music to my ears.

And then came the decision. There was no x-factor type suspense. Straight in: you've passed. Congratulations. Time to smile, I thought. There were minor corrections as can be expected from most ph.d's. The important thing was: additional data collection was not required. Just the overall presentation needed to be cleaned up, and this was something I was fine with since the original hand-in was a bit rushed. But that was that, and all of a sudden, I'm not longer a Mr.... I may just become a Dr!

Now, I secretly thought that champagne would rain down from the heavens and that I would be given a key to a secret underground society on campus that only other fellow doctors were a part of. That did not happen, and NO, it does not seem unreasonable to suggest. In the absence of these perks, I think the change in initials will suit me just fine.

It's been awhile

Hello out there!

Hopefully I still have some readers out there... I did not mean to neglect you for so long. As it has been some time, I thought I would just update you slightly on my life.

After a frantic dash (read: limping) to the finish line, I submitted my Ph.D. on the 30th of September. Unbeknownst to me, I had to hand it in by this date or I would be considered as a statistical fail. Whilst this would mean very little to me, this meant a lot to the university as it could affect future funding or grant allocations. As one who always wishes to fall in-line, I naturally did all in my power to finish by this date.... even if the quality of my work suffered. I always maintained, throughout my Ph.D., that if given the choice of either rushing to finish my work on time or being more deliberate and being overdue that I would choose deliberate and overdue every time. After all, I am putting my name to this thing. Naturally, when push came to shove, I cowered and did what I could to appease the people above me. This meant about 2 weeks of very little sleep, but at least it was done - albeit with loads of corrections still to make.

In the meanwhile, volleyball was still going on. As I was not finished by the start of term, I am, once again, enrolled as a student. That meant another year of BUSA (now BUCS) volleyball. Sigh. To try to distance myself I decided that my best role for the team may actually be to coach instead of play. After all, there are younger players out there that deserve a shot and I will not always be here. I might as well pass on whatever wisdom I have so that the club can continue to be self-serving. We're about mid-way through the season right now and the results have been mixed. I have questioned my ability to lead and coach athletes without actually being on the floor myself. It has left me quite conflicted, but the team itself is quite young and I hope that we can pull it together soon. Stay tuned for more updates on this matter...

In addition to finishing the Ph.D. and the start of the volleyball season, I had the impending move out of my flat AND the expiration of my visa hovering over my head! My flatmates were moving out for their own reasons and as of 18 Oct 2010, I would have no where to live. Unfortunately, having been in uni for 10 (straight) years (this is my 11th), I had an idea of where I wanted to live and under what conditions. So whilst I knew about the move for about a month, it took me precisely that long to find a place to live. But now all is good there though I'm probably paying more than I should and/or want to. As for the visa, that was renewed as well, but not without complications. I could have (and probably should have) re-applied for a student visa so that I could continue to work in the UK... however, that was going to set me back £357 and a lot of wasted hassle with applications, etc. Instead, I decided to get a visitors visa. One that would allow me to be here without paying the £357 but it meant I couldn't work. The only requirement was that I had to leave the UK and re-enter. As such, I selected Stockholm as I had always wanted to go and now I had my excuse. In the end it probably cost me more to travel there than it would have for my visa application, but at least I got to see somewhere new.

This has been my life in the smallest of nutshells... I look forward to sharing more with you in the near future and at a more consistent rate.

Ph.D. Completion Update:

I'm never gonna finish!

I'm bad at this

Apologies, folks. That is, if there are any readers out there. I am, admittedly, bad at this blogging thing. I've got so much to say, but it seems like there is never any time to say it. I've been working diligently (well by my standards) on finishing my Ph.D. during the weekdays and then for the last 3 weekends I've been away on volleyball-related excursions (Birmingham, Margate, then Sandbanks). In each instance, I've had to drive either a manual van or a manual car. Surprisingly, I was able to get us from point A to point B with minimal discomfort (I cannot say none because my hill starts and shifting is sometimes poor at best). Hopefully I continue to improve because it is a bit more fun and I think it's a great skill to have! Anyway, that's been me for the next little bit... I hope to say that the next time I write that I will be a bit more profound or excited (for finishing my Ph.D.). Keep your fingers cross. Figuratively of course, because you could be holding them for a long time. Til then...

A weekend to remember.

Rarely does my blog serve as an update on my life, but sometimes you just have moments in your life that will stay with you forever. It is one of those moments that I will share with you now.

This weekend, I travelled down to the south coast of England with my housemates (Rob & Kerry) and two friends (Nat & Sarah) to attend Beach Student Cup. This is an annual event organised by Volleyball England which caters to beach volleyball enthusiasts at all British universities and colleges. Similar to last year, it was held at Buscombe which is close to Rob's home in Poole, making the logistics of the weekend that much easier. In this year's competition, there were not only more pairing (52 in the men's draw alone) but the competition, on paper, was much stiffer. As such, coming into the weekend, Rob and I, who had placed 9th in the previous year's competition, had just hoped to come in the top 10 again this year. Play started on the Saturday morning as all pairs were put into 13 pools of 4. Because of the sheer number of pairs and the small number of courts, matches had to be one-setters to 21. This actually served Rob and I well as one of our main weaknesses was bound to be our stamina! We quickly made our way through pool play with scores of 21-11, 21-11 and 21-7 earning us the fourth seeds heading into the elimination rounds. We were put in the top half of the draw, which, on paper, was much easier than the bottom half. We received a bye into the 2nd round, and in our first elimination match, we won handily 2-0 (21-2, 21-4; matches were best-of-3 in the elim rounds). That ended the first day's play.

On the second day, we faced a pairing from Sheffield Hallam. While they were solid indoor players, their play did not translate well to the outdoor beach game as they fell to us 21-10, 21-14. This not only meant a trip to the quarter-finals, but also free tickets to Beach Break Live, a festival held exclusively for students in the south of wales (retail value: 89 GBP!). In the quarters, we faced a pairing from Queens Uni Belfast who were going to offer the stiffest competition yet. They were very similar in terms of style of play and if we didn't play our best, we would be eliminated. In a tough, gruelling match, we were able to edge it out 21-17, 15-21, 15-9. Suddenly, we were headed to the semis against our good friend, Jonny and his partner from Brighton uni. They were the #1 seeds heading into elimination play and, as such, definitely knew what they were doing. Similar to our quarters match, this team was very similar in style and if we didn't play well, we would not have a date on centre court for the final. Unfortunately, both Rob and I had one of those moments where we both couldn't get it together and we lost our first match of the tourney 14-21, 20-22. Needless to say, we were both disappointed - both at not being able to play on centre court and not being to actually have a shot at winning the tourney. It was also just disappointing that we were not able to take advantage of the opportunity of a gratuitous draw. Aside from these obvious disappointments, it served as a moment of realization.

As a child, I was either a very good athletic competitor or just a very lucky one. Every competition I was in, either individually or as part of a team, we were always able to over-achieve or at least meet expectations. We beat opponents we should have and threw in an upset every once in awhile. To me, that showed a level of confidence in our own ability and a level-headedness required for success. Unfortunately, this year has not been like that at all at any level of volleyball, whether it be student, national league or beach. While I just accept that this is probably a factor of my old age, I did feel bad for my beach partner this weekend. While we did well, especially considering our height (i'm 5'9" and he's about 6'0" even), he has international caps in beach, while I have.. well, nothing. It's not that I'm a bad beach player (i think in terms of height-to-skill ratio, i'm quite good lol), just that with a better partner, he probably has a chance to win it all. You put me with a random player, and we probably finish in the 20s... you pair him with someone like me and suddenly you get 3rd. He's just that good. For a 29-year-old, like myself, it was just a blast from the past to get on the podium again! But this isn't what this entry is all about, just a small revelation from the weekend.

Despite the length of the bit about volleyball, this weekend was more about everything but. This trip brought together a group of people that ordinarily probably wouldn't hang out together. So there's me and Rob - that's fairly standard. Then there's our housemate and Rob's gf, Kerry. Then we have Nat, an international Belgian from Bath Uni, doing her placement year at the Astra Zeneca in Loughborough. Lastly, we have Sarah, another placement student from upstate NY studying at Georgia Tech who works at STI with me (sort of). An unlikely combo to say the least!! Coming into the weekend, I was a bit worried about how everyone would get along, but in retrospect, it was a silly concern! It was just one of those weekends that was able to bring people together from different walks of life and just hang out. And it couldn't have worked out better. We laughed and laughed, and when that failed, we laughed some more. We built rock sculptures, barbequed, smoked cigars, and even sailed. I'd attempt to actually describe all these events but it wouldn't even do it justice. It was just one of those weekends where people from all walks of life could come together and just enjoy living. In the end, it doesn't matter how you describe it... it truly was, in the most simplest terms, a weekend to remember.

The probabilities of life.

This past term, I was a lab assistant for an MSc module on statistics, and it got me thinking... man, i wish i was better at stats! Why? Because as I see it, our life is unfortunately ruled by probabilities and their associated statistics. Trouble is, in many instances, it is impossible to actually quantify these odds. In spite of this, we are so quick to attribute any misfortune as being 'unlucky' and any success as being 'skill'. (Aside: In fact, the phrase, "unlucky" is one of my most hated phrases). How can this possibly be?! Truth is, all people can really do is put themselves in the best position to succeed and then rely on external factors (read: luck) before true success is/can be achieved. Is this true for all walks of life? I will attempt to convince you yes. Let's start with an obvious one - one that is a big part of my life.

Poker. I've been playing since I was roughly 15. We'd each buy in for $10 and the dealer would call the game. Kings and little ones. Chicago. Baseball. And the list goes on. For my group of friends, it was just a different way to hang out and pass the time. I continued to play through high school and got caught up in the online Moneymaker craze of 2003. Fast-forward to the present and I still manage to play. Mostly to make money (which I then re-invest in stocks) but also because there still is a bit of excitement. To the casual observer, they can't understand how there is money to be made in a game of 'luck'. Thing is, an experienced player can tell you the odds of hitting a set on the flop or a flush after the flop, whereas inexperienced players will see this as a virtue of being lucky. Trouble is, most people have a problem differentiating between 'odds' and 'luck'. If I get my money into the pot when i'm ahead in the hand, odds are I will win more often than I will lose. Therefore, in the long run, it is a winning proposition. Luck is only observed if you examine that one particular hand and do not consider the entire sample population. Let's dumb this down further. Say we took a 6-sided dice and painted 4 sides red and the other 2 sides black. You would always bet red (66% chance of success versus 33% chance of failure). If you just bet once and it came red, that might be lucky, but the odds of it being black still haven't changed and it shouldn't change how you would bet. I realise this is a bit over-simplified (because you can easily calculate the permutations), but I will now look at other aspects of life and attempt to convince you that life is really not much different than a game of poker.

Finding a Job. When we look for a job, we don't just apply for one place and then get it. To increase our probability, we: a) apply for many jobs, b) get more education, c) get experience, and that's just to name a few. And even after achieving these things, it does not guarantee us that job. All we're doing is putting ourselves in the best position to succeed. We are still at the mercy of luck. How? Well, what if some other equally qualified candidate interviews before you and the company decides, "let's not waste any more time, we've found our guy", does this mean you were 'unlucky'? No, because your qualifications don't serve as a guarantee - they just increase the odds of you being attractive to the employer. (Upon reading this, you may shake your head and think I'm crazy. I think the main reason is because you can't put a number or odds of getting any job, but the same principles mentioned above in the poker example relate to this as well. However, we all inherently know it to be true or else we would never apply for more than one job at a time). And that's what we have been taught our whole lives... to try to stack odds in our favour in order to succeed.

Playing Sports. This is probably the most guilty of being a part of the 'unlucky' phenomenon. A football hits the crossbar. Unlucky. Double fault in tennis. Unlucky. Really? I'd argue that getting tackled by a member of the crowd when you're leading a marathon is unlucky, the former two examples are just unskilled! Does that mean we should stop trying? Of course not. Thing is, each and everyone of us is not perfect and the reason for our imperfection is not because of luck. Let's take the tennis serving example. Let's say you're a really good server and you get in 75% of your first serves, this means that 25% of the time you get to the 2nd serve. The good thing is, you're a really good 2nd server who can get it in 90% of the time. Now, these are really high percentages for any pro tennis player, but you still double fault 2.5% of the time. So when they double fault in a match, is that unlucky? NO. It's built into their statistical long-run. This is why we have practices - we develop our skills in order to increase our success percentages and stack the odds in our favour. Now this is quite straight-forward as it is pretty much a closed skill (i.e. the odds of you hitting your serve have very little to do with what your opponent is actually doing.. i know it's not as clear cut as that, but for all intents and purposes here it will be). What happens when it's an open skill such as a penalty shot? Well, it's all the same really, except now you need knowledge of the individual player. Where do they like to shoot? What visual cues can I pick up from their approach? This is why they watch so much game tape so that they can 'play the odds' and make the best tactical approach. Does it always work? No, but this is not a factor of luck. Either that or it is always a factor of luck - one or the other. And yet rarely do we ever consider a goal to be a scored purely by luck.

So maybe the next time the word 'unlucky' is about to roll off your tongue, you will open your mind, and pause.

I can't take full credit for most of these thoughts and ideas for I have been influenced by life and the reading of 'Fooled By Randomness' by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. I highly recommend this book if you have some free time and an open mind.

What inspires you?

The other day, a friend of mine told me that she thought the most inspirational song ever was the theme tune to 'Pokemon'. Really?! But that got me thinking, what songs inspire me? Here we go:

Not Ready To Make Nice - Dixie Chicks

Anyone remotely familiar with the story of the Dixie Chicks will know just how inspirational this song can be and is. When the world turns their back on you, you come back stronger and more sure of yourself.

Lose Yourself - Eminem

If this can inspire Eminem, I think it has the power to inspire me.

Ruff Ryders Anthem - DMX

This is just more from personal experience... some great moments warming up to this song before high school volleyball matches.

Gladiator Theme Song

Can't help but be inspired by the theme song to a great film.

I Believe I Can Fly - R Kelly

This song paints a picture in my mind of Michael Jordan flying through the night sky. From one of the most determined basketballers of all time, you almost get inspiration infused in you. Trust me.

Bittersweet Symphony - The Verve

No real story here, just a great song!

I'm sure there are more... but what are yours?

It must be tough.

I must admit, every time I watch Super Nanny, my first thought is, 'wow, this is crap television'. Before my second thought, I would like to begin this post, like many others, with a good preface. I cannot claim to be an expert in this field (or in many, if any, others for that matter), but this is something that I have a strong opinion about. Furthermore, I am not a parent so my views may not be entirely accurate, but this is how I see it. Anyway, as I was saying, my second thought... 'man it must be tough... to be a parent these days'.

Kids, myself included, have had it very easy. And I don't mean easy because we didn't have to work on the farm or walk to school for hours each day. I mean easy because we've always been given the benefit of the doubt. On the other hand, parents... parents have had their every move scrutinized. There is always someone looking over their shoulder telling them what they have done wrong or what they are about to do wrong. Meanwhile, kids live their lives like it it's the OC or 90210 without a care in the world. Kids, these days, know their options and know what parents can and cannot do and they play on this all the time it seems. Parents don't stand a chance, really. They don't yell or discipline because they're afraid of pushing their children away or rebelling against them. At the same time, they wear any of their child's misgivings on their sleeve for all to see. They know that, though it is not fair in this day in age, the way their children grow up is a direct reflection of themselves as parents and as people. I guess, all I can hope for in the future is that, I too, was a good parent.

Revelation.. the travelling version.

Let me begin by saying, I love travelling. And I mean, love. When the opportunity presents itself, I rarely, if ever pass up the opportunity regardless of how busy I should be and how much money I don't have. In case you're not a fellow traveller, you might be wondering, what is the draw? Well, for one, it generally means that you're experiencing something different, that you're not stuck in the same daily grind. And that's a good thing. A very good thing. On top of that, you're learning more about how the world works. I learn more whilst travelling than I ever have reading any text book, novel, magazine or scientific journal. There is definitely something to be said for experiencing things first hand, particularly at a younger age. I think it helps me gain unparalleled perspective and an appreciation for all things in my life. It also feel it makes me more adept at handling different personalities and situations within my own life... essentially I feel comfortable at most if not at all times. Bust most of all, and I know it already sounds like a lot, I learn the most about myself.

I generally tend to travel by myself. Sometimes out of necessity, but sometimes out of convenience. In fact, given the choice in the past, I would probably have preferred travelling by myself. It is just so much easier; you don't need to plan around someone else's schedule, hoping that they want to see the same things and for the same amount of time you do and you don't risk alienating them by sometimes choosing to do, buy or eat expensive things. But also, you learn to hang out with yourself. And I don't mean in the third person. I think sometimes we are too afraid to be by ourselves and really enjoy the solitariness of our own company. That may sound a bit depressing, but how can we expect others to like us, if we do not like ourselves (a bit introspective and philosophical, but I somewhat believe this). Turns out, I like the person I have become and hope that others do too.

Recently, I've experienced a paradigm shift in my way of thinking with regards to solo travel. While my love for travel has definitely not waned, my enjoyment for solo travel has. Perhaps its my age or maybe I'm starting to dislike myself, but with each subsequent trip that I seem to go on, I come to the same conclusions... I wish I could share this with someone. Not to sound funny, but I go to some pretty amazing places (for example now I am blogging in Cape Town), and not being devoid of sense and emotion, I can't help but feel envious when I see couples enjoying these moments together. Maybe I have become too comfortable with travelling alone that I may not make the transition easily, but I'll definitely give it a shot! Just one slight problem though...

Over-reaction: it's so hot right now.

Unless you've been dead for the past week, your life has been, in some form or another, affected by the ash cloud. Whether it has cancelled yours or a loved ones travel plans, put you out of a job temporarily, or just taken up more of the news than you had hoped, it is clear that this has emerged as one of the biggest stories of 2010 thus far. Never before has airspace been closed for this long. Not even after September 11th. Now we all know that I have some strong feelings about people's perception of flying and the flying process, but this has volcanic ash stuff is ridiculous.

People are calling the handling of the situation an 'over-reaction'. This is not verbatim, but you have people high up in the british conservative party and airline companies saying stuff such as, "the airspace should not have been closed due to a lack of understanding of the affects of ash cloud on airplane engines". That what was done was "unnecessary and costly". Pardon me? Since when was gathering more information about an unknown subject "unnecessary and costly"? Would they rather have blood on their hands or err on the side of caution? When people's lives are at stake, I think the answer is obvious. What is 6 days of our lives to just be a little bit cautious? And i'm speaking as one of the affected ones - I'm meant to fly to Cape Town later today. Sure, I'd love to fly and get to Cape Town; after all, i've heard its one of the best cities in the world. However, I wouldn't want to get there at the expense of my life. I think that sounds reasonable.

This whole aftermath is a prime example of what is going wrong with this world. You have people with no scientific experience (read: airplane CEOs, political leaders) telling the CAA (Airport authority) and british government that they need to be held accountable for their actions. Held accountable for protecting human life? Oh, so we're gonna issue them medals? Cool. Oh, wait. No. You mean hold an investigation and play on the hearts of society. Of course you would have handled things differently if you were in charge. And obviously, you're saying all of this once the matter has been taken care of. Convenient. And this is just my point. Someone is always looking over our shoulders telling us how to do a job that they have no idea about. They just know that every situation has a political angle and they're right there to capitolise. Sad. Now, I would call THAT an over-reaction. Let's look at the bottom line: No lives lost, we're flying again and we were able to update our standards for volcanic ash concentration. All in all, I would say that it was handled successfully, so why all the scrutiny?

Everyone just needs to chill out and stop over-reacting.

Nothing says happy birthday like a cigarette.

This past weekend I travelled up to Liverpool with a few friends. It also doubled as my birthday weekend as you may know and as a 'present', my friend Kath volunteered me to dress up as a cigarette and walk around the pitch before the Everton-West Ham match. While I was extremely nervous (mainly cos I thought people would embarrass myself like they do in the movies... like, someone kicks a ball at me, i fall over, costume comes off and suddenly I'm naked and people throw stuff at me... THAT kind of embarrassment!), I thought I should try new things. After all, I was 29 and it was just another box to tick. In the end, it was an enjoyable experience and none of my fears came to fruition. Well, except that I knocked over one of the skysports cameras behind the goal. But other than that, I'd like to think I made a difference to the thousands of people out there. Some might even say that I was the best cigarette mascot ever and that I should be inducted into the mascot hall. I'll leave the debate up to you.

Birthday Weekend

Twenty-Nine. Another year older, a little bit wiser, but still just as immature.

Watch the Everton-West Ham footy match on Sunday for more info :-)

Details in the following days.

Intermission: I'm the one who...

Pardon the interruption, but I need to take a moment to talk about family. Just consider this a commercial from the regularly scheduled programming and bear with me as this will not be my most light-hearted entry. You know how in every family there is a label that you can comfortably pin on each member? Like Jane is the hopeless romantic, Grant is the computer guy, Diana is the shopaholic, Tom is the impulsive gambler and so forth. Well, I'm the one who wears his heart on his sleeve and can't control his emotions (amongst other things I'm sure).

You see, this past week, I flew home to celebrate the life of my grandmother. She was my last remaining grandparent and one who I had lived with for roughly 11 years of my life. Granted that 'life' was seemingly ages ago, it was hard to discount the impact that it had. When I first heard on the 21st of March (my parents had called), I was overcome with the type of sadness you would expect. I did not shed any tears, but at the same time, it was not a time to be jovial. To me, now this might sound harsh, my grandmother had passed away a long time ago. Not because I was in England and she was still in Toronto, but because it's almost what she wanted. She had faked the inability to walk so that she could get a wheelchair. She faked sickness so that she wouldn't have to eat. Heck, she even faked alzheimer's and pretended she didn't know who I was. This was not the grandmother I had grown up with.

Under these conditions, one would have thought I would have dealt with this a long time ago. Admittedly, I did too. But as she lay there peacefully and each of my relatives paid their respects, I couldn't fight my emotion. I couldn't speak. I could barely stand. I just sat there letting the tears pepper my black cashmere sweater. While I thought I was personally okay wiht it all, I couldn't help but feel their emotion or the emotion that I thought they were going through. It's not that I am close to my family; in fact, we're probably quite far from it. It's just that, without her, there's no me. And if I think of how much my mom (and dad) have done for me, I couldn't help but feel remorse. All she ever really wanted, it seems, was for her children to pay attention to her.

Growing up, my grandma was born into a very rich family in China. To say that she was spoiled was probably an understatement according to my dad. With all the riches and people to take care of her, she married my grandfather who was also part of a rich family. Soon after, they gave birth to my dad and everything was setting itself up for an easy and comfortable lifestyle. That is, until communist China came in. My grandparents and their family's lives were spared in exchange for their riches. Everything they couldn't hide, they had to surrender to the government, regardless of sentimental value. And even what little they could hide, they couldn't wear or use for trading because people would wonder where it came from. Therefore, they had to live common folk lives. As someone who had been pampered well into her early adulthood, this was a shock to my grandmother. The only lifestyle she had ever known was gone.

Now other people in the same position would probably fight and regain their prosperity over time. This, unfortunately, was not her. While my grandfather and dad moved to british ruled HK for better opportunities and a more free lifestyle, they had to literally start over. While she did go to HK for a short while, my grandma returned home to be with her parents as she knew they would provide the type of attention she craved. Rather than send her back into the real world, they held onto her daughter and continued to shelter her. This continued until my grandfather and all of his kids were able to fully support themselves. Since her parents had not moved, she now looked to her kids for the attention she missed. This was fine while they were still young, but as they started their own families, time was sparse. That and her attitude never changed. She alienated people with her grandeur lifestyle. She made people within her own financial and social class feel bad about themselves because they had not experienced what she had. Needless to say, she did not hold onto many friends. As such, she would always run back to the arms of family. It was a vicious circle.

Now, I only heard about all of this stuff this past weekend, but it gave me perspective. And as she still laid there in peace, all I could think is that she was never given much of a chance through no fault of anyone but herself. It does make me very thankful for all my parents have done for me, but I'm not the one that needs this type of thing to gain perspective. Remember, I'm the one who wears his heart on his sleeve.

All the best, grandma - you'll always be a part of me.

Olympics, part two: Let the games begin...

Sitting on the greyhound, I was quite nervous, but I was also very tired. Naturally, I was too tired for nerves and took a short nap. I knew that I should seize any opportunity to enjoy unemcumbered sleep, particularly over the first four days since I did not have any accommodation! I drift in-and-out of sleep, somewhat visualing what my trip may be like while overhearing fellow passengers having the same anxieties. I wasn't even sure I would recognise Vancouver because it had probably been over 10 years since I had last visited. As the bus neared the station, there was still no feel for the Olympics. Sure there were banners and maybe some traffic cones to close off certain routes, but there were no people, no crowds, no excitement and more importantly... no GOOOOOOOOOOOOLD MEDALS! (look up Danny Kinda on YouTube for that reference).

That would soon change as I walked out of the other side of the bus terminal. Suddenly, I was right there. The area immediately around the terminal was littered with Olympic volunteers dressed in their bright blue jackets, policemen directing traffic, loads of confused locals and tourists all trying to soak it in,while up above, the SkyTrain goes whizzing past. Like the sheep I am, I follow the crowds, expecting them to know where they are going. Within minutes, I am at the Russky Dom (Russia House), a large domed building used to showcase the plans for Sochi 2014 and show off their culture. I wouldn't even had realised that this was a big deal if not for the massive sea of people trying to get in. I make a mental note: come back later. I continue to walk along the water and survey the people I pass. Though I was 'home', I felt like I was a foreigner. Aside from Vancouver being over 4000 km away from Toronto, everyone was wearing red canada mitts... but me. And that brought me to mental note #2: buy red mitts.

As I continue to walk along the water, I see a sea of inukshuks lining false creek on my left and a fenced off pavilion to my left. Straight ahead of me is BC place/Olympic Stadium and GM Place. I follow signs for the ticket box office and begin to queue. Within minutes, I realise that only cash and Visa's are accepted. Not accepting any other forms of payments was probably the bane of my existence during this trip. Knowing that I have about $100 CAD in my wallet, I quickly look for the nearest ATM. Chinatown, they say. As I walk over, I am like a salmon heading up stream. Hoards of people in hockey jerseys from all over the world rush past me as I weave my way through. Not knowing the costs of events and what other general shenanigans I will get up tonight, I pack my wallet with $500. I make my way back to the ticket office where the queue is longer than before. Luckily, patience is one of my best assets. As I near the front, there is a Chinese couple enquiring about tickets. They must have asked about every event in the book and spent almost an hour trying to purchase tickets. Understandably, no one was happy with them, particularly the man directly in front of me who was pretty much heckling them in frenglish (some sort of custom mold of french and english he had made up.. either that or he was very drunk, both of which are possibilities!!).

I got to the front and in typical uninformed and vague fashion ask, "do you have any tickets available for anything?". The agent at the window holds back a smile as if to say 'of course we do... we're a ticket office'. Turns out they have tickets to pretty much everything, including a Sweden v Germany ice hockey match in 30 minutes! The only thing they didn't sell tickets for were Cypress Mountain and Whistler. Bummer. So I bought the hockey tickets and scooped up some curling tickets and was on my way. Before you make your judgement, let me just say, going to see curling was probably one of the most fun and entertaining events of sport I have ever seen... and I've been to numerous baseball, basketball, football (american) and tennis (including Wimbledon, French and US Opens) matches. It really is JUST that good. It typically mixes in old and young, knowledgeable and ignorant, but most importantly drunk and really drunk. The banter is unparalleled, particularly if you mix in the hockey type atmosphere. It is the one event I would tell everyone to go see, especially since it is also one of the cheaper ones out there. The ice hockey was good too, but that would be like comparing 1-ply and 2-ply toilet paper (I mean, either way you're happy to have the TP, but who wouldn't prefer a little 2-ply action??!).

Over my first four days, my nights and mornings were pretty much the same routine. After a night of light-to-heavy night of drinking, I would retire to my hotel (read: car parked at River Rock Casino in Richmond). I would sleep for 3-5 hours in my bed (read: trunk with backseats pushed down), wake-up and then spend the morning playing poker til the sun came out. Now I now what you're thinking, 'what kind of life is that?'. Thing is, I really had no better option unless I wanted to spend $250 CAD a night in a hotel. And let's consider this: the parking lot was an enclosed structure with security cameras and the casino is open 24 hrs so I have access to toilets, drinks of all sorts and even food! Oh, also, this was costing me $2/day. While you may start seeing the merits of this, you may start to wonder, 'but no shower for 4 days after drinking and sleeping in your car? you must have been in some sort of state!'. Wrong. This casino also happens to double as a hotel resort. A hotel resort with a swimming pool. And for $10, you can pay to use the swimming pool, jacuzzi and gym. This wasn't even a re-occurring cost either as I tried the card the very next day and it worked again! (let this be a tip for you all!!). So every day, I could have a little work out, a little nap in the jacuzzi and a hot shower. I also happened to find very good places to nap in and around Vancouver, which just added to the overall experience.

On my last day of the car living, I made it up to Whistler to see some action in some actual snow (up until now the weather was still beautiful). I had not made up my mind what events I wanted to see, but I was pretty much at the mercy of the ticket office and any ticket touts/scalpers I would run into. To give myself the best chance of securing a ticket, I set off at 5.30 am. As luck would have it, I run into a group of friends in front of me who is in the same situation as me... and a scalper was in the queue right behind us! We start to butter him up, but then it is time to board and more importantly for me, time to go to bed! When we arrive, one of the girls has a 1-on-1 convo and scores us some ski jump tickets for only $20 more than face value. I considered this to be a relative deal. Too bad the actual event itself was less than eventful. To me, every jump looked the same, and there wasn't a competitive atmosphere since everyone was going one at a time. Also, we were only allowed at the base of the mountain so they just seemed like really small flying bird before they whizzed past us at the bottom. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that I saw it, but I'm not sure I would do that again. Thankfully the company I was with was good and the weather was beautiful, to the point where I was wearing flip flops. We also got the opportunity to take a picture with the silver medallist and his skis, so all was not lost.

The third installment is still yet to come...

Olympics, part one: the pre-amble.

So I arrived back in the UK on monday morning and since then I've pretty much been nothing but ill. I think it was my mind and body telling me, in a round-about way, that you're not young anymore, that you need to slow down. And really, I don't blame it for its response after the two weeks I just put it through. But given the chance, would I do it again? In a heartbeat...

I arrived in Seattle on the 15th of Feb, grabbed my bag and hit the road to Portland. I know that's an interesting way to start my Olympics adventure since that just happens to be the exact opposite direction to Vancouver. Well thing is, I love watching sports and relish the opportunity to see a new arena or stadium so it only made sense to go see a Trail-Blazers game. That and the weekend before I left, I had just had a volleyball tournament and wanted a couple days to recoup before getting the festivities underway. This was probably the smartest thing I did all trip long. These couple nights of sleep are probably what helped me last the rest of the trip. So I toured Portland, I looked for touristy things to do, but ultimately wasted time til the game. In the end, it was just another concrete building, but admittedly with a really good environment (even if it was against the clips!).

On the morning of the 17th, I finally headed to Vancouver. It was finally Olympics time! I headed up the I-5 through Seattle and took exit 231 onto Chuckanut Drive. I had done some research and it was said that this was a drive not to miss. So drive it I did and I'm glad that I did it. From there, it was onto the border. Admittedly, I was a bit anxious about the border crossing because I had heard that Canadian residents that cross the border into Canada with an american rental car would not be admitted on grounds of tax evasion. A bit silly, I thought, but a real concern nonetheless. I already had it in my head that if push came to shove, i would play the whole "i'm a citizen, not a resident"-card. Luckily, the crossing went without a hitch, and back to my homeland I returned (albeit 5 flying hours away from what I would consider my actual homeland). I parked my car in Langley, BC mainly because this was one of the furthest approved Olympic park-and-ride locations since I had no feel for how busy it truly was going to be in Vancouver. I figured, the further, the better. I suppose I was right because there only seemed to be one other car there! I made my way to the Greyhound Station and took the first bus off to Vancouver... TBC

slow and sluggish

I apologise if there are any readers eagerly anticipating my next entry. I have been busy with many things and that has seemed to not include updating this blog. However, I have just been on an olympic-sized adventure and I promise to provide a summary of it all within the coming days. Stay tuned...

“Everything’s amazing and nobody’s happy”

As my current profile suggests, I am new to the world of blogging. And I don’t even mean just maintaining my own – I barely read any blogs either, whether it be professional or amateur. One I do check often is Doug Smith’s Toronto Raptors blog (find it here). You see, I’m a huge basketball fan and living in the UK means there is very little opportunity to ever catch any live action on TV. As such, this is one of my main ways of staying in touch with the game I love.

However, this entry has nothing at all to do with basketball, but instead deals with one of the topics (read: rant) discussed by Doug in one of his recent entries. In a nutshell, it’s all about flight delays and how frustrating they and the airline can be. Upon reading this , I was immediately reminded of Louis CK’s appearance on Late Night with Conan O’Brien. If you haven’t seen it, please check it out here. I recommend it. Highly. Now let’s build on this.

There is no doubt that flight delays can be very frustrating. You select your destination, you make your plans, you pay your money and you expect everything on their end to work out smoothly. But sometimes, and it seems like ‘every time’, there are delays. They’re re-fueling. They’re loading luggage. There’s a passenger missing. They’re doing maintenance. The runways are icy. There are no working engines. Whatever. There is ‘always’ something, and it’s always happening to ‘me’.

Let’s get some perspective. Let us consider what we are actually doing when we’re on a plane. We are flying. IN THE AIR. I cannot ever remember a time when I have heard a man flying otherwise. I suppose you could say gliders and air balloons, but how far have you gotten with that? Have you crossed the Atlantic? The Pacific? Or how about the English Channel? Flying is a miracle and the fact that it can pretty much take us anywhere around the world has been spoiled on our society. I mean I suppose you could walk everywhere… oh wait, that would take you forever. But seriously, even with a combination of driving/busing/train/boat, it would take you ages to get to anywhere meaningful. So, basically, we’re ‘stuck’ with the airplane as our quickest mode of transport so let’s begin to deal with it already!!! That’s realization number 1.

How many of us really know what it takes to get a flight off at its scheduled time? It takes just one thing for a flight to be delayed: a single late passenger (either at the desk or the gate), loading luggage, re-fueling, maintenance tests, cleaning the plane, a late crew member, weather conditions… and you get the picture. There is a lot and I’m sure I haven’t even begun to touch on the situation. Just because we’re ready to go, doesn’t mean the flight is. This will serve as realization number 2.

It was an accident that could’ve been prevented if there were more precautions taken. How many times have we heard something of this manner? Truth is, something happens to most of us when we get into an airport and we suddenly lose all common sense and patience. Any speak of delays due to ‘maintenance’ and we’re suddenly up in arms. There could not be a single thing in this world that could offend us more than those words. But when we sit at home and hear this on the news, we feel sick to our stomachs. Or at least I do. Why didn’t they just take an extra 5, 10 or 20 minutes and just make sure everything was okay, you might think. And then our instant thoughts are, “Air [insert country here] is really horrible and needs to be more careful when allowing its planes in the air”. How does the airline win? So, yes, you could leave now, but then again, you might just make the news – and not in the way that you always wanted. And that, my friends, is realization number 3.

Lastly, watch someone get frustrated. How attractive is that look? How embarrassed do you feel for them? Remember yourself what it feels like to be frustrated and impatient. How clear is your thinking? How is your overall state of being? At the end of the day, does it actually get you anywhere? I’m thinking no, and it won’t make the flight leave any earlier. We all know that ‘life is too short’, so let us not let things out of our control bother us. We’ll be better off for it. That is the final realization and it is also number 4.

So, a delayed flight… Yes, it sucks. But let’s all gain a bit of perspective and deal with it before it even happens.

a new year, but i'm still me.

Being my first entry, there was a bit of worry that this would set the tone for the remainder of my entries, but I can assure you that this will be the exception rather than the norm. It’s just that I wanted you all to know a bit more about me before we got the proverbial ball rolling. I just thought it would be much easier to talk about things that ‘grind my gears’ as opposed to the things I enjoy (that’s a much more complicated process!). Besides, what better way is there to usher in the new year than with a little cynicism! Without further adieu, here is a list of pet peeves (in no particular order):

• People who stop at the bottom of staircases, in doorways, or in the hallway after getting off a plane,

• People who are impatient at the airport,
• Double standards,
• People who expect foreigners to adopt their culture, but then when they go abroad, act like how they would at home,
• Unnecessary cleanliness, swearing and/or arguing,
• People that can’t take a joke,
• Rain,
• Throwing cigarette butts on the ground… actually, littering in general,

• People who can't speak the native language in jobs that depend on it (i.e. telephone customer service representatives).

We all have our 'things' and those are mine. It's not pretty, but its who I am.