Sunday Polo

Given that it was a beautiful Sunday, when Sophie asked me if I wanted to go play polo, I was pretty easily persuaded. After all, May was the last month where things would be cheap, and so why not take advantage of it?

I met Ryan outside of the Putney Bridge Tube station, and after only a ten minute delay, Sophie showed up with her flatmate, James, driving a car. Turns out she'd persuaded James to come riding at the last minute just so he could drive everyone. Typical Sophie, getting everyone to do favours for her...

I had a nice chat with Sophie in the car on the drive up, where she revealed how she was having difficulty with the younger man she'd been seeing. Apparently he called as though he wanted to go out that Thursday, then never said anything further on the matter. Which, she pointed out to him, is a rather rude thing to do. Yet, she was surprised, because it was the first instance of poor behaviour she'd ever encountered with him. So who knows? Very odd, nonetheless.

My first pony of the day was named, "Candelaria", and apparently was brand new, having just arrived that day. All of the Argentineans kept asking me later what I thought of her, although in truth I didn't think much about it, as the pony was fine to play, nothing great but also nothing terrible, which is I suppose fine in that I didn't find her difficult.

My second pony was called "Mariposa", also an easy one to remember. At the line out, where the two teams line up to fight for control of the ball, I actually hit the ball in the air as the ref tossed it in, I was being so agressive. Did a great tag-team with Sophie, where she got the ball to the goal and I took it on through. Hence, very nice to have a good play with her!

After the game, the Argentine boys said that I played very well. No idea if they're just being complimentary, but it's always nice to hear that I've still got a handle on the game. So we had a beer up at the house, and then went down to watch James and Ryan have their riding lesson. Fine enough, but they basically just galloped around, so I can see why Ryan is getting a bit bored with all of it.

Sophie insisted on looking at pictures in the car instead of directing everyone, which meant that we got utterly and completely lost on the drive home. Typical Sophie I guess, being more focused on herself and what she wants. Although once again, given that I see so much of myself in Sophie, makes me think a bit more about what I'm like and where I could improve. Goodness knows I'm horrible in conversation, always forgetting to ask others about themselves, so it's really remarkable to see a mirror image of yourself, and realise what you might think about doing differently as a result.

We finally got back to London, although the entire time we were driving, Sophie kept changing her mind a million times about where she wanted to go for dinner. (Basically she didn't want to go to the place that had originally been suggested, but seemed unable to come up with any better suggestions). We finally went to a decent Italian place, the first place that had been suggested. Had starters, pizza, some dessert, and wine, all for £17. Amazing good value.

We also had a fascinating conversation where I did my usual, "Talking about random facts", starting with Queen Victoria and the finger bowls (since there were finger bowls on the table), to Mary Roach and xkcd space elevators. Turns out the boys instantly knew about xkcd. James, Sophie's flatmate, exclaimed with delight, "A girl who knows things!"

James tries to get me to come dancing, but he wanted to go the very next day, and I've already got dinner plans with Doug and Sarah. He then suggested Tuesday, but I've already got the hash. The poor boy must have thought I was blowing him off, although nothing could have been further from the truth. Sophie revealed to me that her flatmate annoys her, but I think it's mostly because he just doesn't do everything she wants without protest. I did think he was quite a handsome and charming guy. But anyway, my excuse about the hash led to a conversation about the has, which intrigued everyone. I almost felt badly though, as Sophie was obviously getting tired and bored as the boys and I chattered on excitedly about all of the geeky things that we're into. Although Sophie might not have appreciated it, it was one of the best conversations I could remember having in a while.

Finally after dinner, I made the trip home with Ryan, and we agreed on one thing: There's nothing worse than somebody who bores you. We're both interesting and interested people, and that's what we're both looking for in the people we're attracted to. I really like that guy, he's basically everything I've been missing in other guys lately. It's such a pity about the 22-year old thing, he's so perfect otherwise!!

Head of the River

Two years ago, I didn't check my calendar before a friend suggested going on vacation to Portugal, and hence I missed watching the Balliol men win Head of the River, an outstanding achievement in Summer VIIIs. You see, since the Isis, the river in Oxford, is not wide enough for crews to race side-by-side, races are instead done by holding "bumps." Each boat starts with a length-and-a-half of clear water inbetween them, and they must attempt to catch the boat ahead of them whilst also rowing faster than the boat behind them, who are attempting to catch them.

Although I'd missed out on the Balliol men, the Balliol women were tipped this year to win Head of the River, so I made sure my schedule was clear to come up and watch the race. I arrived around mid-day, and was totally surprised when as I was standing on the roof of the boathouse, this girl asked me, "Are you Adrian, by any chance?" Turns out that it was a girl I'd been e-mailing with about rowing shirts, although I couldn't believe she recognised me out of the blue, I guess from having seen random Facebook photos...

At around 3 PM, this chap I'd met whilst playing polo turned out to be in Oxford, so I went up to the Head of the River pub to meet him for a drink. It was a nice enough time, although in truth I was a bit annoyed to have been dragged away from the river's edge, so I suggested to him that we return to the river's edge.

Only upon getting there did I realise what an error in judgement I'd made, as this chap turned out to be one of those types that needs a baby-sitter, and so as I was swanning about, saying hello to people and chatting with friends, he just followed me around like a baby duckling, unable to make conversation on his own.

Thankfully, Balliol won the race in pretty short order (to tell you the truth, it wasn't that dramatic, as they were so dominant over everyone else), and Baby Duckling Chap decided to move along, which I was grateful for. I almost felt that I must have been a horribly rude host, but he texted me later to say that he'd never had so much fun in Oxford. So hey, I guess I couldn't have been that bad as a hostess!

The best part of the race then, came at the end, when after having won the whole thing, we took the rigging off of an old boat, and then putting the coxswain, my friend Zhan, on top of the boat, everyone in the college carried it through Oxford back to the main college gates. I took a video of it, and edited it when I got home, resulting in this pretty nifty film (courtesy of iMovie!):



Finally, all of the rowers headed home for a nap, and I hopped back on the Oxford Tube to go back to London. Overall a great day, and I'm glad I finally got the chance to see Balliol win Head of the River!

Jo's Birthday

After last weekend's graduation in Oxford, my friend Jo (who I had stayed with in Melbourne) was turning 30, and so scheduled some drinks for those of us in London to come to. A nice time, even if it was a bit chilly outside. I ended up chatting with a young gay guy, who commented with surprise when I got a Guinness, but I informed him that it was actually the most girly drink of them all, being that it had fewer calories and it's heaviness forced you to sip it slowly.

As the conversation turned around, I ended up chatting to a lovely engaged couple, hearing the story of how he'd proposed in Hyde Park after a snowstorm, but she'd had a suspicion of what was up, and kept asking to put her hands in his pocket where he had the ring, claiming she was chilly. And of course, he was having a most impossible time telling her that she couldn't, because he didn't want her to feel the ring! Overall, a funny and charming story, and makes you smile realising how well they bantered along together.

Another friend had brought her child, but would you believe it, apparently kids weren't allowed in the bar after 6 PM? A nice bouncer let us keep on until about 9 PM, but then the kid really had to go. I then used that departure as my opportunity to make it home, for although it had been a nice evening out, bedtime was definitely beckoning!

Columbia-Tufts Iran Lecture

I had a busy day in the morning with interviews, although the outcome was nice, as I got to enthusiastically recommend hiring one of my candidates. Particularly as he revealed that he'd applied to Accenture in 2008 and had been rejected, and that he'd always wanted to work here, I was really excited to finally be able to make his dreams come true. Alas, I'm not allowed to tell people, even when I know we'll be hiring them, that they're hired! Yet, I really hope that this guy comes to work here, as I was incredibly impressed by him.

I found myself in a race to leave the office at the end of the day, as I was supposed to get to this lecture that was starting at 6:30 PM. (Who on earth starts an after-work event at 6:30 PM? That's insanely early! And I found anyway when I got there that they'd pushed back the start time due to the number of people arriving late, which annoyed me incredibly, given that I could really have used a bit more time in the office to get things done). I ran into Princess as I was leaving the office, which set me behind a bit, but it was nice to walk out with him and chit-chat a little bit.

Once I got to the lecture (with it's delayed start), I found that there weren't too many people there, which was okay, but did make me wish that J, the girl who had originally told me about this event, hadn't had to cancel at the last minute.

The first lecture, a nuclear physicist explaining how you build a ballistic missile, with detailed PowerPoint slides, absolutely sent me to sleep. The second guy, a BBC reporter, spoke without notes or slides, and yet gave the best presentation of the evening, talking about the election in Iran and the ongoing protests, reminding us all that even though it wasn't in the news anymore, it still wasn't over. I don't remember much about the third and fourth presenters, but at least I don't remember falling asleep.

Afterwards, the wine and canapés were brought out, where I'd hoped to get my £18 registration fee out of the lecture, but there weren't actually that many canapés, and as I found myself standing and talking to a bunch of Americans, of course nobody was drinking. (Although of course, nobody wants to drink too much of the cheap wine served at these events anyway, as the canapés are really where it's at!) I did end up chatting with a nice American chap from Notre Dame who was about to go to HBS, and I wanted to give him my card, but foolishly found that I didn't have any in my bag! Ooops! Lesson for the future, always make sure you have business cards with you. I also got to chat a bit with the president of the Georgetown Club in London, who gave me her card (and I was able to follow up with her the next morning). Definitely a hassle though, not having my business cards on me!

Finally left with the chap from Notre Dame, and made it home having stayed out surprisingly late at this lecture. I don't think I would go to another one any time soon, but overall, not a bad evening out...

Busy day with interviews in the AM.

Leave office with Princess.

Running in Highgate

This week's run was a bit outside of our usual scope, in that it took us to Zone 3, where we went running through some really pretty woodlands that I was totally amazed were right on the Tube lines, within London. We ended up running by Alexandra Palace, something I'd never known existed, which actually provided some spectacular views out over north London.

Mostly though it was a pretty dull run, with few people there that I desperately wanted to talk to. So I mostly just made the rounds, collecting money from people, engaging in some polite conversation and looked forward to my opportunity to leave.

When I finally spotted a good opportunity to make my exit, the Giant Australian decided to come with me. Not a bad thing, as I do enjoy his company, even if I get the feeling he's more "interested" in me than I am in him. Which is somewhat surprising, for on the surface he's good-looking, successful, and quite smart. Yet...I don't know quite what it is, but I feel like he lacks some degree of kindness and compassion.

For instance, as we were chatting on the train, I mentioned that I'd been reading andrew Ross Sorkin's "Too Big to Fail", about the collapse of Lehman Brothers and the subsequent downfall of the US economy. And he joked, "Well, there must have been a woman involved, obviously." This added onto jokes about making money through prostitution and other subtle chauvanistic comments... Usually with chauvanism, I assume most men I know are too enlightened to make such comments other than in an attempt to be humorous, but you can only hear it too much before you feel like asking, "You DO realise that you're talking to a woman, right?"

But still, I'll give him the fact that we did get into a rather interesting discussion about the multiple causes of the economic collapse, and the nature of the stock market in general. Hum, annoying. Smart, cute, successful guy. Yet, can't he just be a little....nicer?

When I got to my stop, kissed him good-bye, once on each cheek, although for a second there I was tempted to just kiss him on the lips. I definitely think he would have gone for it. Perhaps best that I didn't though. As it certainly wouldn't be nice of me to confuse the poor boy like that!

Polo Sunday

I woke up at around 7:30 AM on the floor at Caragh's house in Cambridge. It's a handy thing about living in England, that the sun rises so early these days that it just wakes you up pretty readily. Admittedly, 4.5 hours of sleep was quite a bit less than I would have hoped for, but sometimes that's all you're gonna get.

I caught the 9:20 AM train back to London, and actually caught up on quite a bit of this blog, as you find when you have a computer with no internet access, sometimes the only thing to do is write.

Got home, showered, and I was absolutely exhausted, but I could only allow myself 20 minutes to lie down and close my eyes, but of course I couldn't really fall asleep in that short a period of time.

So I got up and got together all of my polo gear, and made my way to Fulham Broadway to meet everyone to go play. Met Fi, who had played with us last week, and two new folks: An older guy named David, and a younger guy named Ryan.

Turns out that David had rented a Streetcar (one of those cars you can rent by the hour), but the previous guy hadn't returned it in time, so we had to make our way back to Earl's Court to find another one. Yet soon enough, we got ourselves all packed into the car and on up to the polo grounds.

We actually arrived early, so we instead went to a local pub, located right on the river, where we sat drinking lemonade and watching the boats go by. Ryan turned out to have an incredible interest in photography and had brought along his camera, so we spent some time just chatting and passing the time.

I learned that David had just started dating a 35-year old woman who worked at the perfume counter at Harrod's. Sophie gently teased, "Well she must be spectacularly good-looking then". It was kind of funny, as along with David's protests that he didn't know how serious it was (although he was going on holiday with a girl he'd been dating only 3-4 weeks?) you could tell that he was probably more into her looks than her intelligence. After all, Sophie at least gave him credit for dating a 35-year old, saying that many of the girls he dated were much less age appropriate... (I later figured out that he must be around 38-39. Yeah, dating girls in their 20's isn't exactly the way to go...)

We then went back to the polo grounds and got mounted up. They gave me a pony who apparently used to be a high-goal polo pony, named "Carerra." After playing with her for a bit, I could absolutely believe that she used to be a high-goal pony, as she obviously could run like the wind, and turned on a dime. It was truly a pleasure, much like I imagine driving a high-performance sports car. At times almost a little bit scary (she could almost run away with me until I used my legs and seat to slow her down, the reins were useless), but I could imagine that she would be fantastic in a chukker. I could definitely feel bits of my old favourite, Parrera, in her, so I tried to ride her the same, but couldn't quite figure out how to leave the reins quite as loose. But a true pleasure to ride.

At the very end of our time, we played a quick five-minute chukker, and I could definitely feel the magic of that pony, as we turned on a dime and ran after people and the ball. I was surprised actually at how well Sophie and I played together, backing each other up and calling out our plays to each other. She needs to be more consistent with the ball, but it's definitely a good playing relationship.

After we dismounted (hot and sweaty, of course!) we then went in to get some beers. Chatted with people in Spanish and English, and after a few beers admittedly I relaxed into the conversation. Talked about our various clubs, and the merits of each.

Then as we walked back down to the stables, I somehow ended up just mildly flirting and joking with Ryan. I mean, he's 22, it's not happening, but he's so self-confident and charming, it just seemed fun to play off of it. So we were, bumping hips and standing too close, smiling and just enjoying that...what was that? Chemistry? Oh yes, I've experienced far too little of that lately. I suspect this guy would have chemistry with ANYONE (his stories about seducing 18-year old public school girls in nightclubs had me in hysterics) but it was just a nice reminder of what chemistry is supposed to be like. Later that evening they sent out photos from the Inter-Club quiz, and I saw some shots of the guy I gave my number to. Seriously? I'm not sure what I was thinking at the time, but not calling was definitely the right move. I don't think I could have even pretended to be attracted to that guy, much less have chemistry with him...

We then drove back to London, which was a fantastic drive. We cranked up the radio and ended up singing along to everything from old classics to new Katy Perry stuff, it was like brilliant road-trip music.

Also, I finally felt like I found my voice and was able to chat with Sophie for a bit when we were at the gas station. Now, ever since I met Sophie, I've liked her. In fact, I'll confess that there's a bit of girl-crushing going on. She's loud, effusive, and seems to have a magical ability to charm everyone around her. I was surprised to learn that she spends most of her time single (although recently has started casually dating a 28-year old guy), and that she's 33. Are you serious? I had upon meeting her thought she was much younger than myself, 25 or perhaps 28, but no way would I have put her at 33!

Then, the more we chatted, the reason I like Sophie so much suddenly dawned on me: She's basically me. Always dating younger guys, almost fanatically outgoing, underpaid at her job and hence always feeling short on cash despite living a lifestyle that requires it, knowing tons of great guys she's not attracted to, the kind of person that everybody likes yet nobody dates. Hence, it was almost a bit alarming to see where I'd be in 3 years. Admittedly living a fabulous life (she's out all of the time, and as I noted everybody likes her) but you still wonder if that's quite the thing...

When we got back to London, we hadn't had enough fun, so we walked to a wine bar somewhere in Kensington, where Ryan pointed out to me that although we were dirty and sweaty, we were perfectly dressed, given that everyone there was going for the equestrian style that we already had. It does help to actually play polo when everybody else is just aspiring to look like they do.

I spent most of my time talking to Dave, mostly about growing up in North America, I think. You could tell that he was somewhat unhappy to be standing around in this overly-expensive wine bar, and just wanted to go get a cheap meal. Yet, when we left to go to the pizza place where we supposedly had a table, they were closing. And as we wandered elsewhere, other places were closing too. So Dave decided to go home. But then, just after he left, we found a pizza place that was open, a rather charming place too. So the four of us remaining sat and had a great meal, just laughing and yakking it up. Once again, I'm always amazed at how nice and friendly polo people are, and this evening was no exception.

It was after midnight by the time we left the restaurant, and I think I finally made it home somewhere around 1 AM. I definitely fell into bed that night!

Oxford, the X5, and Cambridge

In the morning, we woke up to glorious sunshine. I was up before anybody else, so I showered and got dressed, and packed up the air mattress. Checked my e-mail and found one from my cousin that said he was “researching ring design without trying to be too obvious. This means Brendan wins all Panama bets.” It took a moment to realise what he was saying, that he planned on proposing to his girlfriend! How wonderful is that?

Nikola, Jenn and I then sat down and had breakfast, where they teased me about having brought my own Diet Coke in place of coffee. I must admit, in their household filled with fresh veggies and organic everything, it did seem a bit out of place!

Then everybody got going, and since Nikola had to do some rowing and Jenn had to work, I was left on my own. I then wandered around Oxford for a bit, catching the graduates as they were coming out of the Sheldonian, but mostly just walking around. I ended up walking around where my ex had lived, and where I’d visited him in Oxford a number of times after we broke up. I found myself getting a bit morose, watching all of these happy couples, lying out on the banks of the river, and just thinking about how nice it would be to be in a relationship again.

I think it’s my classic extroversion however, that I am just terrible when left on my own. Hence, I was relieved when before I could continue my downward spiral (such a waste on a sunny day!) Nikola called, that he and Zhan were back from rowing. Thank goodness, the company of my friends again!

I joined them only briefly, picking up my bags at Nikola’s place, and then heading down to the Head of the River to meet the recent graduates. It was great seeing a lot of people I hadn’t seen in a while, and joining the group in their silly gowns and outfits. I picked up sandwiches from my favourite old sandwich shop from my student days, and just relived the memories for a bit. I couldn’t stay long enough however, as I’d promised my old flatmate from my Cambridge days that I would come to her housewarming party that night. In Cambridge.

Which meant, I had to face down the dreaded X5 again. When I’d been in Oxford, I spent much of the year dating a young man in Cambridge, and spent a ridiculous amount of my time riding that miserable bus back and forth between Oxford and Cambridge. After the relationship broke up, I’d sworn never to ride the X5 again, but needing to get directly between the two places this afternoon, I didn’t really have a better option.

The X5 had changed since my student days, with leather seats, A/C, power outlets and even Wi-Fi on board. Yet, riding the X5, even with the Wi-Fi and an interesting book to read, I was reminded of a few key things: The journey was LONG, taking about 3.5 hours. And it was hard, with constant starts, stops, and endless roundabouts that had me feeling absolutely queasy. I was definitely watching the clock on the bus, counting down how much longer I had to survive the journey.

And then all of a sudden, it made me angry. To think of how many times I'd undergone that trip for my ex. How many weekends I'd spent seven hours on a bus, surviving that marathon hell of a journey. And then realising that he never even did it ONCE.

And so it was a good thing, after spending the morning kind of missing what we once had and thinking about him there in Oxford, to suddenly be reminded of how much I sacrificed and how little I got in return. They say you shouldn't stay angry, but in some ways I think I need to hold onto that anger and remember it whenever I'm feeling weak or morose. Bastard. I can't believe he put me through that.

At last the bus made it to Cambridge, dropping me off at Parker’s Piece, instead of the usual Drummond Street bus station. Which was good as the walk wasn’t too long down to my friend Caragh’s place. I didn’t know most of the people, but I spotted my old friend Simon, and had a great time chatting and catching up with him, as well as Caragh.

I’d originally intended to catch the last train from Cambridge back to London, but when I went to Caragh to make my good-byes, she protested that she’d barely gotten a chance to talk to me, and persuaded me to stay overnight. Given that I did have all of my overnight gear with me due to my recent stay in Oxford, I was easily persuaded.

Hence, I then stayed up talking with Simon and Caragh and some of the other guests until 3 AM. It was a good party, although definitely at the end I wanted people to go home so I could get some sleep! I did end up chatting to a VERY drunk guy who was amusing from the perspective of how many inappropriate things he could say in the space of a few minutes. (“Are you married? You’re not? I can totally set you up with some men in London. And they are verrrrrry rich!”) Given that as usual, after my pattern of having a few beers, I was switching back to water, the sober-vs-drunk contrast was all that much more pronounced.

Mostly, it was really great to see Caragh and Simon again. I suppose with your oldest friends, there is the pleasure of finding out that across the years and sometimes not staying in touch as well as you should, that you still have a connection and are good friends through it all. Hence, although that X5 journey was absolutely miserable, I’m glad I did it one more time to make it back to Cambridge.

Rhodes House

I left work at 1 PM, heading to the club, where I met up with the Membership Officer and other members of the club, including the club chairman. We then all piled into cabs and made our way to Paddington, where we stood around for a bit waiting for our train. It was an incredibly hot day, and I almost felt bad, wearing a sleeveless shift dress whilst all of the men were wearing suits with the top button done up to the very top. Yet even that didn’t stop me from excusing myself from conversation at one point to go get myself a water. Interestingly, I learned that the little shop I went to was having a promotion, one drink for £1.40, but two drinks for £2. Hence, I got my water and a Diet Coke for the next morning, so I could have my “morning coffee” as usual!

We got to Oxford and took cabs over to Rhodes House, which I’d never been to before. Really lovely place, although after a while all old grand Oxford places start to look a bit the same. I was intrigued however in the memorial in the front gallery, that one of the countries listed was still “Rhodesia”. Some people may argue that such a thing is imperialist, but I’m sure most people in Zimbabwe at this point think back on the days when they were Rhodesia with fondness.

The staff needed some time to set up, and I’d been invited by Pork Pie to a lecture at Balliol, but in the end the sunshine and a drink proved to be too tempting. Rather a shame actually, because later on I heard that the lecture had been really outstanding, where the guy spoke for an hour without notes, without pausing or losing his train of thought. Perhaps that would have been good to go to.

In the end however, we went to the King’s Arms for drinks. Got chatting to the other members about this-and-that, when some random guy in the pub noticed one of the men’s ties, and asked if we were members of a club. This led to a minor exchange that indeed we were, and about the old joke that one “wouldn’t want to be a member of a club that will have me.” To which this random guy responded, “Let me show you something.”

I think we were all wondering what on earth this guy was about to take out, and perhaps a bit worried, as sometimes being a member of a private London member’s club doesn’t go down too well with some people. But all was explained when he reached into his bag and pulled out a tie with ducks all over it, and then flipped it over to reveal the tag on the back. “The Groucho Club”. We all got a good laugh out of that one, and were impressed with the man’s quick thinking on that one. I was also just impressed, because I’d never met a member of the Groucho Club before, as they’re all supposed to be so frighteningly creative and artistic, it’s all wonderfully exclusive.

Soon enough, it was time to head back to Rhodes House, where the reception was beginning. I spent the next hour being a good little socialite, circulating and talking to numerous groups of people about the club, explaining why I liked being a member and why it was so good to join. I felt in some ways like I was making a very small dent in the crowds, as there were over 300 people there, and I was just circulating, talking to small crowds of 3-4 people at a time, trying to give my little spiel over and over again. As I told the same stories and little bon mots to each group, and some points I was definitely getting confused, wondering if I was repeating myself to the same group and sounding like an idiot.

I did end up chatting to a very nice young man who studied history, and our conversation ended up veering totally away from the club onto the topic of why history is so fascinating. He was so charming to talk to, and so interesting, I definitely found myself thinking, “Why don’t I meet more men like THIS?” It’s people like him that I pretty much came to England for, he so clearly exemplified the type of man I like. Yet, I had to remind myself that he was probably 22 at best, so had to keep smiling and wondering where I could find a bit older version of him.

Also talked to some MBAs who were totally fun, and so I ended up exchanging cards with all of them. I shall have to remember to e-mail them all later.
After 2.5 hours of talking and drinking wine (I was feeling quite tipsy from the circulating waiter who kept topping up my wine glass), finally we were done and it was time to go home. All of the other club members were going to dinner in Oxford, but I had declined in favour of going to have dinner with Nikola. In truth, I think this was a very wise call, as I was a bit tired of club company for the evening, to be honest!

So I walked down to Cowley, met Nikola, and ended up getting into a conversation about Roman baths (to settle an argument that had come up in the bar earlier, which I had promised to take up with my friend who was a professor of Ancient History. It’s so handy having people like that for friends!) Then he suggested I change, and we walked down the street in search of dinner.

We ended up ordering pizza at a local pizza place, and then whilst waiting for it to cook, we went across the street and got ourselves some beers. Then went back to pick up our pizza and walked home, and then just had a very chilled out evening, catching up and talking about everything under the sun, including that one of his ex-girlfriends was now dating a girl, and that another was getting married this very weekend. I’m truly not sure how I would react if I found out that someone I used to live with had come out or married someone else, so I was rather impressed with how chill he was about the whole thing. The conversation then got onto the topic of why we’re attracted to the opposite sex and why it’s hard to imagine being gay, and also just how being with someone and having sex regularly is sort of how humans are designed to be. Made me think about how I’ve really had enough of this celibacy nonsense....but of course, what can I really do about that until I find the right guy?

At last Jen came home and we chatted a bit more before everyone turning in for bed. Such a lovely night however, the sorts of great evenings catching up with friends that we don’t have nearly often enough.

Dinner with Rob

My friend Rob from high school e-mailed me out of the blue on Monday, pointing out that we hadn’t caught up in ages, and suggesting a get together. Since he’d never been to my club, I suggested drinks there, and so there I was on Thursday night, once again.

We had some beers and just caught up on this and that (jobs, living situation, etc.) and then I was able to tempt Rob with the idea of dinner, so we went in to eat in the Coffee Room. I was reminded actually of how much I enjoy Rob’s company, as we ended up talking about everything from investing strategy to the differences between gay and straight dating.

I was delighted to hear that Rob had recently gotten into a relationship with someone, and although they were still in the early stages (it had been about 3 months), he said that they’d reached the stage where they were just wearing their hearts on their sleeves and were really open with one another, and he was just delighted with how well it was all going.

Even more humorously, the young man turned out to be an employee of Accenture! Apparently they’d met one very cold night when Rob had been without a coat, and this young man, upon seeing him freezing by the kerb, had asked if he wanted to share a cab. So they shared a cab back to East London and got to talking, and exchanged numbers. (Rob was saying to me, “What are the chances that not only would this guy be going back to East London, but also would be incredibly cute and gay?”) Although tragedy struck when almost immediately after, Rob lost his phone! So he had to pay a ridiculous amount of money to get his phone company to ship him a new phone with the same number, but the number of the cute guy was lost in the missing phone. All there was to do was wait and hope the guy called, and that he hadn’t already missed the call whilst his phone was lost.

Yet, as is true in all good fairytales, everything worked out. The young man called, they went out, and are now just living a totally blissfully happy existence. And Rob confided in me that he’d been single pretty much ever since he arrived in London five years ago, so this was a welcome change. Although there had been the occasional date here and there, this was the first real relationship in that incredibly long time.

And so I was encouraged, realising that when it happens, it happens all of a sudden. And so I’ve really got to home that I similarly meet a guy and am just overwhelmed by how cute, funny, and attractive he is, and everything just works out like that.

We ended up staying through dessert, I took him on a tour of the club, and it was such a warm night that Rob suggested we walk back to the Central Line. We ended up taking some interesting detours through SoHo and Old Compton Street, where Rob joked about how I’d shown him the upper-class life of my club, and now he was showing me the seedy underside of SoHo. But mostly it was just so much fun to catch up with an old friend, and be inspired by the idea that you never know what’s going to happen next!

Back in the Saddle

After barely a few hours of sleep (damn my inability to go home from a party at a reasonable hour!), my alarm went off, and it was time to get up and make my way to Putney, where I was meeting people to go play polo.

I arrived right at 8 AM, although turned out that the girl I was meeting wasn't ready to go yet. No problem, since our ride hadn't arrived yet either. Yet at about 20 minutes past, Sophie and Theo (from the Lansdowne Club) showed up, and we were off.

We arrived at the stables about an hour later, and pretty quickly got into our boots and mounted up. I chatted with the grooms for a bit in Spanish, which seemed to set them at ease, as they were quickly accepting me as a pro player and one of "them". Yet I did sort of wonder about how it set me aside from the other three, none of whom spoke a word of Spanish. Still, I felt it was good practice for me, and it was nice to realise that my brain hadn't totally abandoned me, that I did still remember how to speak Spanish.

Playing was, in a word, fantastic. I was on a lovely white pony, who while not the best I've ever ridden, was quite reliable and set me up in nice lines with a steady stride that allowed me to work on my swing, which definitely needed some help. Although it was wonderfully enjoyable, because while at first I kept whiffing the ball and doing poorly, after a while my swing came back to me and I was steadily whacking the ball down the field.

Also, the setting was absolutely extraordinary, as we were playing in the shadow of this extravagant mansion, apparently owned by an MP. As we came up into the fields to practice as well, there were deer everywhere, and it was just the most amazingly bucolic setting, the mansion and the fields and the deer... Absolutely stunning.

Also, I'd liked Sophie from the moment I met her, but I was delighted to discover that upon further acquaintance I liked her even more. It was pretty clear from the start that I was a better player than she was, but we had loads of fun just running around, stick-and-balling together, and running a few drills. She admitted that it can get somewhat boring just stick-and-balling by herself, so it was good to have me along. I can only hope that she enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed hers. Still, on the whole I was surprised at how quickly I liked her and we clicked, making me wonder why that happens so easily with me with girls, and so rarely with boys!

Finally after a little over an hour, we were taking more and more walk breaks, and it became clear that the horses were quite tired too, so we headed back to the stables. After that, we went up to the main house and even though it was just 11 AM, we decided we could go for some beer. I was glad to see that the world over, the same tradition remains, of always going for a beer after polo (heaven, in my opinion!)

We sat there eating crisps and chatting in a mixture of Spanish and English (or at least I chatted in Spanish with the groom, as everyone cracked up about how I'd turn to them with questions, and they'd point out that they didn't speak Spanish so they had no idea what I'd said!) The groom, Nico, said I spoke very good Spanish, which I kindly thought was a bit of a stretch, but it was nice to hear all the same.

Nico actually asked me if I'd be interested in playing in chukkas that afternoon at 5 PM, and I have to admit I'd had such a fun morning playing, that I was tempted. After all, there was quite simply the flattery of that after seeing me play for just an hour, they obviously thought I was good enough for chukkas. But I had to remind myself of my oath to myself, that there would be no chukkas for me until I'd actually done enough stick-and-balling to be a valuable contributor to the game. So I begged off claiming I was out of shape and needed more time to get into condition, as this had been my first day back playing since last fall.

Finally we headed home, where to my dismay I couldn't seem to stay awake in the car. I remember a vaguely bizarre conversation about whether or not it would be a wise idea to pick up a deer that we saw dead at the side of the road, and whether we could find someone to butcher it. Yet the exhaustion of the exercise and fresh air just kept overcoming me, and I wasn't nearly as good of a conversational companion as I should have been on the way home.

So you can imagine my surprise when Theo offered not only to drop me at my house, but also got out of the car to give me a kiss and asked me if he could find me on Facebook. Truly? Who knows what he meant by it, but it was interesting nonetheless...

In the end, I just got back to my flat and crashed, totally exhausted but totally delighted with my day out playing polo!

Inter-Club Quiz

After not having heard anything about the upcoming Inter-Club Quiz, I was surprised when on Monday I got an e-mail from the chair of the O&C Younger Member's Committee informing me that I was on the team. Hence, having not even anticipated that I was going until the last minute, I didn't have very high expectations of the whole thing.

Yet somehow my original plan to just throw on a black dress and wear my hair straight got side-tracked by an online video on teasing hair. Hence, for some reason I thought it would be fun to tease my hair up into something that I swear looked almost like Elvira. Hopefully as the evening went on it settled down into something that just looked rather Texan, but I have to admit it was kind of fun to try a new style. (I'd read in the NYTimes recently that "big hair" was in again, so why not jump on the bandwagon?)

Also, I had read somewhere that women were more likely to be asked out when wearing Chanel No. 9, so given that I was in a very big-hair-Texan mood, even though I normally never wear it (seems too middle-aged and dowdy to me) I put on a spritz of it.

Perhaps there was something to that, for I was surprised at the attention I got at the event. The Inter-Club chair bought me a drink as soon as I arrived, and I was surprised when the Scotsman who had given the "Toast to the Lassies" at the Burns Night supper greeted me with an instant look of delighted recognition and a kiss. (No idea why he was so happy to see me, but I have to admit he has the most melodic Scottish accent of any man I've ever heard. I could listen to him talk for hours).

I also ended up chatting to a lovely girl, Nicole, from the Royal Overseas League. I was surprised, as having met so many girls who I didn't instantaneously get along with, I was surprised at how quickly I liked her. Good thing that she turned out to be on my team, as the O&C and the ROSL had a coalition team going that night. (Just like the new government!)

The pre-dinner socializing couldn't last for long however, as soon it was time to head into dinner, and the quiz. I ended up sitting next to the O&C YM Committee Vice-Chair, and with the partner of the O&C YM Committee Chair on the other side. Somewhat boring dinner conversation, due to the fact that it was mostly the Vice-Chair complaining about people who were complaining about the set-up of the event. Whatever, you've really just got to learn to be more positive, girl...

The quiz itself turned out to be surprisingly fun. During dinner there were some nearly impossible challenges (identifying scenes from movies, identifying famous pieces of art when you could only see a portion of the canvas, decrypting James Bond quotes), but afterwards we moved onto more general quiz questions, where I was surprised at what I knew. (The author of the three principles of robot behaviour, the name of the robot that died saying "Daisy daisy", the last day that Gordon Brown could have called a general election, and the MP who upon losing his seat quoted Arnie saying, "I'll be back.") I think I was most surprised by the things I knew about British politics really, I guess showing that I'm really starting to become a full-on Brit.

Also, despite not having expected much out of the evening, I was surprised at how much I was laughing and how entertaining the whole thing was. I was constantly giggling at some of the one-liners and clever remarks people made, it was an evening of non-stop hilarious wit.

As the quiz went on, the scoring revealed that our little coalition team was only one point behind the Carlton Club, so we redoubled our efforts (although did horribly badly on a round relating to James Bond trivia!) Finally at the end of the evening, they announced the club scores in reverse order (the RAC did hideously badly, coming in last place with only 15 points!) until finally it was only our team and the Carlton left. So they made us both stand, there was a drumroll, and......the Carlton Club won it. Blast!

Still, in the end we only lost by a point, and reassured ourselves that it was best that way, as if we'd won we would have been forced to host the Inter-Club quiz next year! (Somewhat akin to winning the Eurovision song contest, you start to realise that "winning" is somewhat of a punishment!)

After dinner was over, everyone headed into the bar for dinner. I was determined to be good, and so thought about going home at that point (after all, I had to be up for polo in the morning!) but somehow I got dragged into the bar to share some champagne with my winning teammates from the ROSL.

And then I got into conversation with Gordon, who remains as wonderfully intellectual as always, although I noticed he has this funny tic where he bobs his head as he talks. Gosh, that guy must be nervous at times... Still, I enjoy his company, so it was lovely to talk to him.

Me with Gordon
Overall though, I started to wonder if there were something to that perfume. I had so many men coming over and introducing themselves, it was rather bizarre. James, a guy I vaguely remembered chatting to in the waning hours of the Casino Night, came up and greeted me like he'd been waiting to say hello all evening. In truth, I was rather surprised he even remembered my name, much less was so apparently thrilled to see me. The Scottish Socialite who took so many lovely pictures of me at the Casino Night came up to me and exclaimed, "You've lost weight!" I wasn't sure what to say to that except, "Thanks?" Gordon's brother David stopped me in conversation as well, something he never does. Before I knew it all of my pre-set leaving times were flitting away. 11 PM became 11:30, and soon it was past midnight and there was no hope of me getting the Tube home.

Met a Scottish chap who had been to UPenn and got talking to him for a bit, he ignored my requests for a glass of tap water by buying a bottle of champagne. Finally, the bar closed and the groups were splitting off, with some people going to the RAC, and the guy with the lovely Scottish accent (from earlier in the evening) organizing a group to head to Home House. Both great options, but I realised at this point if I didn't go home, I was truly done for.

UPenn guy however did not take my wanting to leave very well. In some ways because he was the guy most fascinated with my company that evening, and obviously did not want to give me up that easily. I wasn't sure of what I thought about him, as we'd argued about nationalized healthcare earlier, but he did have a point that I owed him a drink. Which I conceded was true, but there was still no way I was going out. So I pulled out one of my cards (thank goodness I had more printed!) and handed it over to him, saying that now he had my contact info so he could remind me that I owed him a drink.

This was, of course, a subtle way of giving the guy my number, as being British, there was no way he was going to ask. He then gave me his card as well, which I tucked away intending to forget about it immediately, as that's not how this game works...

Finally, I made it through a flurry of kisses good-bye, and bundled myself into a cab, arriving back at my flat around 1 AM. Set alarms to make sure I got up in time in the morning, and then was about to head into bed, when I heard my phone buzz from a text. Well, it seems the young man had figured something out, as he'd texted already:

"Adrian, Nice to meet you tonight, shame you didn't make it to Home House. Enjoy polo tomorrow."

Well, such good behaviour deserves a reward, so I texted him to say that I was home safely and heading to bed. He texted back almost immediately (a bit keen, are we?) asking where I lived to make it home so quickly. After texting back that I lived in West Kensington, he wrote: "So West Ken is my hood, where about? I used to be a big player in the Barons Court massive!"

Alas, the constant back-and-forth told me that he would keep this conversation going as long as I kept replying, so I just ignored that last message, given that I'd told him that I was already going to sleep. I would have turned my phone off even, except I needed to keep it on so that my alarm would wake me up in the morning. But even as I tried to drift off, my phone buzzed again with a text: "Either ignoring me or sleep, interesting!!!!"

Still, I ignored it and turned over in a desperate attempt to sleep. Thought about being mean and texting him when I had to get up at 6:30 AM, but left it until after I'd come home from polo later in the afternoon, apologizing for dropping my end of the text chat and hoping that he'd had a good time at Home House. I almost worried if I'd mis-read the situation when he took almost 20 minutes to reply, but good reliable boy that he is, he replied: "Ha ha no worries it was late! Was fun at the time, but not so much this morning! At FA Cup final so can't complain, hope your polo was fun"

Now of course, I'm in a bit of a quandary, as given that I was the recipient of the last text, it's up to me to respond, but it still seems like he should be the one to ask me out for a drink if he wants to. I think I'll resolve this one by seeing if I can generate a friend request on Facebook, which is always a nice, middle-of-the-road option. After all, don't think I could make it out this week for a drink even if I wanted to...

And do I want to date this guy? In truth, he seemed a bit bullying, refusing to accept that I wanted tap water and pressuring me so much to come out to Home House. Yet, I suppose we can all get a bit forceful in wanting our way when it's late and we've had a bit to drink. Was he cute? I can't remember swooning over him, but I can't recall thinking he was entirely ugly either. And I realise that I've got to get over my usual panic about shutting down guys I'm not completely sure about right out of the box. Why not go out and give this guy a chance, get to know him since he's so obviously keen? Given how much I was complaining to Keely the other night that I was in a dry spell, it would seem a bit petulant to not at least go with it now that I seem to have FINALLY broken the stretch.

Which is, at the end of the day, the key take-home message. I can't explain quite why so much male attention returned last night, but all I can say is that I'm thankful it did. It's funny how having boys fancy you can put such an extra spring in your step...

Liverpool Street Run

After a week away, it was time to go running again, this time near Liverpool Street.

I showed up and began collecting money from everyone standing outside, and noticed a guy standing off to the side of the crowd, looking a bit lost. Noting the tell-tale signs of a virgin, I approached him, determined that he was indeed a newbie, and so introduced myself and explained a bit about the run. After all, one of the things I like about my role is that it teaches me to be such a good socialite in training, remembering people's names and making the new folks feel welcome.

Soon enough it was time to put our bags away, and you can imagine my delight when a familiar face showed up and exclaimed, "Adi!" Matt was there, who I hadn't seen since March at Zu's leaving party. Hurrah!! What an absolute delight!!

Matt was coming off an injury however, and so decided to run the entire hash with me (as I'm a notoriously slow runner). Yet I could tell that despite his injury, Matt was slowing his pace considerably to keep running with me, which forced me to work harder than usual to keep up my own pace. In the end we ran for 1 hour and 30 minutes, and I burned 1004 calories by the end of the run, so you know I got a workout!

We spent pretty much the entire time discussing Matt's job prospects, investing strategy, and our recent travels, never running out of anything to talk about. As usual, I always enjoy my conversations with Matt.

I also kept shouting encouragement to the new guy whenever I saw him and checks and things, which he seemed to appreciate. He seemed sort of cute, but nothing that really made me turn my head. When we got back to the pub, I saw him at the bar and so started up a conversation, whereupon he completely startled me by using profanity in his chatter. I suppose it shows the crowds I normally spend time with, that I'm so unusued to hearing men use profanity in women's company. He also reveals that he's 25, further confirming my suspicions that there was something not quite right about him. Still, he apparently had a marvellous time on the run and claims he'll be back, so that's good to hear!

As the crowds gathered at the bar, the lovely American girl who is always so sweet, Kim, asked if she could get me a drink. I just asked for a water, as after that run I was definitely feeling the need for it.

As I turned around, Matt was then offering to get me a drink as well, although feeling virtuous about my water, I declined. To which Matt just gave me one of his trademark looks, as though to ask, "You won't drink with me?" And then when he suggested a Guinness, I was sold. After all, Guinness is one of the most low-calorie beers, right?

Alas, I lost Matt after a bit to go collect the remaining money from everybody else (and to be fair, he should have the opportunity to talk to others besides me, right?) I found myself in conversation with Alan, Zu's ex, who I was completely surprised to see there. (And this time I remembered his name!) Apparently he'd come for the first time the week before, when I wasn't there, and had such a good time that he came back again. He offered to send me the data from his iPhone on the route we'd run, and then somehow, I can't quite remember how, the conversation eventually turned to the ups and downsides of fake boobs. Obviously, having enough to work with already, I'm not a fan, but Alan couldn't seem to stop declaring his fondness for them. Truth be told, it was a rather hilarious conversation...

Alan apologized that Dan Marr wasn't there, who was the guy all weird things had been going on with at Zu's leaving party last March. In truth, I hadn't thought about him since then, so I did have to almost stop myself from blurting out, "And why would I care?" Ah well, I just have to assume that Alan was just grasping for straws of conversation, trying to remember what on earth we had in common.

Matt was very clever and left at the sensible hour of 9:30. Although I was dissappointed not to get a chance to talk to him more, I could understand his desire for an early departure, as I really should have done the same. Instead, I ended up staying through the circle and spending a lot of time talking to Two Skin (someone I rarely talk to, actually), and then eventually ending the evening in conversation with the Giant Australian. After a bit Bum Bandit (another Australian who I will admit seems like a fine person) joined us, and the conversation ranged in topics from Asbergers to Hong Kong money. I wasn't entirely surprised when the Giant Australian used some points in conversation to get VERY close to me or wrap the casual arm around me, but I don't think must has really changed there. He's certainly an attractive enough guy, but also a bit...harsh. He's an engineer, so I suppose his incredibly logical take on everything makes sense, but I'm not altogether sold on it. Still, fascinating conversation that meant I didn't leave until 11 PM (there goes my fine idea of leaving early like Matt!) As usual, I remain amazed by all the good and fascinating people in the hash, who are so much fun to spend time with.

Talk to Two Skins outside, then get talking to Lucas. Meant to go home when Matt did (sensible 9:30), instead get involved in conversation, it's 11 PM before I leave.

Lansdowne Club

At the RAC dinner, I ran into Fiona, a girl I'd known from previous events and gotten on well with. She suggested that at some point I come out to her club, the Lansdowne, for their Younger Members drinks night. Tonight was apparently the night, so I was looking forward to seeing Fiona and seeing what events were like at the Lansdowne.

I met Fiona in the lounge of the Lansdowne, and we went into the bar where Fiona got me a white wine, and then we grabbed a table to we could sit and chat. We were joined relatively quickly by Stephanie, a girl I recognized from various Inter-Club events. After a while, another Stephanie, the sister of a young man I know from the O&C. (Her brother, it must be said, is one of the most impressive young men I've ever met, he has a maturity beyond his years. Apparently he was identified in his youth as a reincarnated llama, which given his presence, I can't help but feel there is a bit of truth to).

We mostly engaged in a lot of girly chat, and I got to talking to Fiona about dating, and I can't help but think that she understands me exactly. She's 36 and still single somehow, which I don't quite understand because she's so absolutely lovely.

As usually happens, I got to telling everyone about the hash, and they all seemed excited to come. So both Stephanies gave me their cards so that I could send them information about the run. Interestingly, when I got home I realised that they had both given me social calling cards. There was no business information on either card, and one was simply a black card with the girl's name and her e-mail address on it. It was so funny, as I'd always heard about social calling cards, but I'd never known anybody who had them. And here's I'd been given two on one evening!

Fiona then took me on a tour of the club, and I will admit that the pool and the sports facilities were absolutely outstanding, although if I can make a claim for the O&C, I think our dining facilities are better. I'll be looking forward to taking Fiona to dinner at the O&C then!

I was absolutely amazed how at this Younger Member's night, people kept stopping by to say hello to each other, that it seemed to be a true club where everyone just stopped by to get to know each other. After a bit, we were joined by loads of other people, including this chap named Theo who mentions that he's going to play polo the next morning. I started asking him about it, and of course it comes up that I play. Then this girl Sophie, who I had seen before and thought was loud and brash in a most delightful way, sits down, and turns out she plays too, much more seriously than Theo. Sophie and I proceeded to bond over polo, eventually causing me to feel the need to apologize to Fiona, as Sophie and I are obviously doing the usual chatter in polo conversation that nobody else understands! Fiona claims she's fascinated by our unusual conversation, although I can't help but wonder if she's just being kind!

On the whole, I'm generally amazed at how all of the younger members at the Lansdowne just seem to know each other or be social and say hello. We were eventually joined at our table by quite a few guys that are not all that bad-looking, making me wonder if I'll ever see them at Inter-Club, or perhaps I need to join the Lansdowne!

After two bottles of champagne, I've missed the last Tube home, so I say my good-byes to Fiona, and Theo and Sophie see me into a cab to get home. Overall though, a lovely evening and I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again soon!

Election Night

After 6 weeks of campaigning and three Prime Ministerial debates, the election was already at hand. In some ways, it seemed to have gone by far too quickly, as I was really getting into the fun of it all. I was just amazed at following the electoral process of a country where nobody talked about their religious beliefs, and where they debated issues, rather than looking at a person's personal life. Where there was no birther movement, no debates about abortion, only a serious conversation about what would be best for Britain in the future.

To watch the election results, I went over to the O&C to see what was going on there, where I ran into Doro with two male friends of hers having drinks in the bar. I got a wine glass and joined them for drinks, where we got ourselves prime seats in front of the television as we waited for the BBC election results show to start at 10 PM.

Of course, once the show started, it merely marked the closing of the polls and that the BBC was now allowed to publish its exit poll. (In the UK you cannot publish exit polls whilst the polls are still open). It was also extraordinary to realise that in the UK, since it's a country with only one time zone, the polls close everywhere at the same time, so there's no staggered reporting across the country like there is in the US.

Yet slowly, as the evening went on, more and more constituencies started reporting in. The boys bought our table another bottle of wine, and then Doro for some reason decided to buy us all gin and caraway-seed liquor drinks. Apparently they were to go with our coffee (we realised that if we didn't consume some caffeine, all of the alcohol was going to send us to bed before the night was even half over). At least it's lovely that at the club I could make coffee for everyone, and even get a hot chocolate for myself.

The results took forever to come in, but were well worth it when we finally got to the key constituencies, like Gordon Brown's and David Cameron's. When the results from Gordon Brown's constituency were read out, there was some guy standing behind Gordon Brown with his fist raised, apparently from the "British Land Rights Party" or something like that. It was just a wonderful example of the kind of bizarre political parties that there are here in the UK. Standing with David Cameron was a guy dressed as Jesus and a guy in a cowboy hat with a massive rosette from the "Monster Raving Looney Party". How I love this country and its politics!!

Yet I have to admit that as the results were read out, I was utterly shocked and horrified to realise that the BNP got over 1,000 votes in nearly every single constituency, and sometimes even over 3,000 votes. (It usually took about 19,000 votes to win a constituency). It surprises me that while there are the wonderful idealists like the Lib Dems in this country, there are also so many people who really believe and stand behind the BNP...

The club also really outdid themselves on the election party, bringing out sandwiches to put on the bar every so often. The boys then bought some beer after we were approaching the end of the gin and caraway-seed liquor, although at this point I realised if I wanted to last, I absolutely needed to switch to water!

Yet, the other thing was that it was nearly 2 AM at this point, and I had promised Emily and Toby that I would stop by their party as well. So I gave Doro £10 (since I hadn't bought any drinks at this point, just indulged in everyone else's generosity), and grabbed a cab to take me up town. Once again, demonstrating my usual failure to manage to leave by my original 11:30 target departure, but instead relying on cabs to take me to all of the places I should have been hours beforehand!

When I arrived at Emily and Toby's, their party was still going full-swing, quite a relief. I was also surprised to see another couple that looked very familiar, and after we both did a double-take, we made the connection: "Were you just at the O&C?" We totally could have shared a cab! (Although that would have been slightly awkward, calling out to the assembled crowds at the O&C, "Who is now going to Em and Toby's at 2 AM?"

I also greeted SM, a young man I've met on quite a few occasions, who I always have to consciously remind myself of how YOUNG he actually is. (About 20, I believe). On this occasion he was immaculately attired in a 3-piece suit, with not a single hair out of place, despite the fact that it was nearly 3 AM. While you might think that a 20-year old wearing suits and hanging out with so many older folks would be a lonely type, Simon is quite the opposite, simply a young man who seems to have figured it out a lot quicker than everyone else. I wasn't surprised to see him there with a girl, because he has a natural charm which is marvellous when he turns it on you. Indeed, as he greeted me, it was with slightly lingering kisses on each cheek, an arm wrapped around me just for a moment too long, and a hand-hold that stayed long enough to ensure I was feeling slightly warm and flushed by the time he finally released me. Damn, how does he DO it?

Anyway, I quickly shook all cougar-ish thoughts from my head (he violates the "half-your-age-plus-seven" rule) and let Toby pour me a drink and show me their sleeping little daughter. Absolutely adorable! Yet truly extraordinary that they would decide to host a party and have so many people over when they have a four-month old asleep in the next room! Although admittedly, Em and Toby have never exactly seemed like very normal parents...

I ended up talking to quite a few other people, watching more results come in, and when I realised that the Tube was nearly open again, stayed until about 5:45 AM, when I just couldn't handle the indoor smoking anymore (with a 4-month old, I know!) finally departed to head home. Got back to my own bed around 7 AM, and crashed into bed, for some rest at last!!

Joining the YM Committee

I skipped running Tuesday night to instead go to my club, where I was meeting the members of the Younger Member's committee, in order that I might join it.

I'd run into a member of the YM committee at the RAC, and told her at the time that I'd really like to become involved. Perhaps in a more unusual move, I actually followed up the next morning, and was delighted when she invited me to come along for drinks after the YM Committee meeting on Tuesday.

It was really interesting to meet people and start to get the inside scoop, like the fact that the YM Chair was completely over-stretched but didn't seem to be willing to delegate things to other people. I was shocked to learn that she was a co-chair of the Inter-Club committee, given that I couldn't recall seeing her at a single Inter-Club event. I can understand how once you are in power, it can be hard to hand over responsibility, but it really seems like something has to change in order for this club to get better.

I wasn't the only one who was there that evening interested in joining the committee as there were two girls as well, one of whom I'd run into before at Inter-Club events. I had actually always been a bit surprised to see her there, as the Inter-Club events are supposed to be for under-35s only, and she looked to me to be pushing 40 or even in her mid-40s. The other girl didn't look quite as old, but definitely up near 40 as well.

So you can imagine my shock when they both claimed to be 32. Only two years older than myself? Or one, even! I just didn't know what to think. I know some people think I look rather young for my age, something I credit to getting plenty of sleep, leading a low-stress lifestyle, and eating well. But the difference here was just staggering, making me realise how important it is that I take care of myself, lest I so quickly start looking like that!

As I was talking with the group at large at the end, somehow it came up that I'd gone to Dartmouth for undergrad, when one of the girls exclaimed, "I'm a Dartmouth '00!" I revealed that I was an '01, and we swapped cards, agreeing to stay in touch about future Dartmouth in London events, as well as those at the O&C.

In the end, it was agreed I would see them all at the next committee meeting. They actually seemed keen on getting new people involved, so I'll have to make an effort to get additional people interested in coming along. After all, I'll get out of it what I put into it, so I figure I should get more involved and make it better!

The Problems of South Africa

I had lunch this afternoon with my friend Ed, a native South African, who was passing through London on his way home from Australia. It's the May Day bank holiday here, but since Ed is a South African, he was actually obliged to work today. But since I had off, why not go meet him at Piccadilly Circus for lunch?

It was once again one of those occasions where I love meeting up with old Oxbridge friends, as the discussions are so interesting. We had some interesting talks about economic theory, as he proposed the interesting idea that the only costs we have are for labour, that with raw materials, you are merely paying for the labour to extract the materials and make them useable.

Yet the conversation took an interesting turn when we started discussing life in South Africa, and how random violent crime is such a problem, and how Ed had really just given up on the place. And I had to admit, that while I'm readily willing to give up my home country, at least it's a safe place to go back to, that it isn't filled with the constant risk to one's personal safety that there is in South Africa. Although once again, it does make me realise how much I want England to be my home, that I don't want to go back to the US.

He told some stories that made me realise why he's so down on South Africa, like pointing out a recent incident where the South African government had unveiled trains to run from the airport to downtown. Great innovations in public transport, right? Except that the mini-taxicab drivers were so upset about it, seeing it as cutting into their business, that they opened fire on the trains. Gunfire. So of course, nobody will take the trains for fear of getting shot.

Or equally, once a train was late, so the angry crowds responded by setting the train on fire. He asked, "How on earth does this help? How on earth are any of the actions making anything better?"

In the end, I have to think that he's right. It's one thing to have a problem of poor leadership, but when the whole culture seems to accept a violent response to all problems, how do you solve that? Once again, it makes me glad I live where I do.

Lunch with Nikola

I hadn't seen my friend Nikola in ages, so was quite delighted when he suggested that he should come down to London on Sunday for lunch. Given that he hadn't seen our mutual friends Florie and Andy in a while, I suggested he call them too, even as I was a bit disappointed that we wouldn't have catch-up time for just the two of us.

Yet the reason that I love being friends with Nikola so much is that he basically has my brain. I swear, we can truly almost communicate via ESP. So I guess I shouldn't have been all that surprised when he called on Saturday night to say that he was wondering if he could come down earlier, so we'd have some time to hang out, just the two of us. I had to smile and tell him, "As usual, you read my mind."

So he arrived on Sunday morning at around 11 AM, and we spent some time hanging out in my flat, which he'd never been to before. It was pouring rain, so we just stayed inside, drinking coffee and tea, as I showed him photos of Australia and talking about my trip.

All to quickly the time passed, and we had to go meet the others for lunch. We ran into Andy randomly on the street on our way there, and then after finding that our originally planned pub didn't have room for us, we ended up at another pub that was just fine. Kind of funny, as we'd originally planned on having lunch down by the river so that we could eat outdoors in the sunshine, but given that it was pouring rain, we were tucked up inside in the cozy pub. One of the things I love about England, it was just the most wonderful place to be.

It was also one of those wonderful long-extended rambling conversations, the type that only seem to happen among Oxbridge people, where the topics ranged from why dogs get cancer earlier in life relative to humans, why we don't tend to eat carnivorous animals, how our schools handled sex ed (this one had us laughing at inappropriate volumes for the tiny pub), and education policy in our various home countries. We stayed for several drinks, we were just having so much fun discussing all of these random topics.

Finally though, we couldn't deny that we'd stayed too long, and everyone had to get back to their respective tasks for the day. If only we could just spend all of our days like that...