System of a Drunk

During my weekly Facebook nostalgia parade (which tends to take the form of posting youtube videos of songs about Scotland, by Scotsmen, or being sung in Scotland) I was going through some stuff from the Barrowlands and started to remember all sorts of stuff that's great about that place.  It shouldn't be good, it's a dump, it is located in a shitehole, the gigs take place on the second floor, which bounces, and sweat rains on you from the ceiling throughout the gig (but it isn't in Edinburgh so you can't get AIDS). However, the view and the sound is great from anywhere, and it's easy to get to and from the bar to restock on watered down pish (Tennents).

I'm sure the first gig I saw there was when I saw System of a Down with my brother in March 2002. The setlist here suggests they played a pretty long set, with favorites such as 'Sugar', 'Aerials', and 'Chop Suey!', but all I can remember from the gig is that we allegedly had a great time, and the singer was wearing a Japanese looking shirt. We had a few drinks of Absinthe before leaving the house, and had plenty more between Falkirk and Glasgow.  I also get everything that happened that night mixed up with the following weekend where we went out with some ex-colleagues (can you call them colleagues when we didn't really work?), and got silly drunk. We also drank absinthe then, and tequilla, and finally some Aftershock...by tongue...straight from the table on the train, despite having a handfull of shot glasses we stole.

I remember the exchange - We're sitting on the last train from glasgow, which is full of drunk folk and sick, and some guy walks by with a bottle of blue aftershock he allegedly stole from a pub. We were amazed, because we had aftershock glasses we stole from a pub. This was meant to be, so the drink was shared. Some was spilled, and I saw no need to waste it.

This was the week before I went to see Cassie for the first time, and I mind falling asleep on the phone to her, and also being told to that it was OK to hang up due to my drunkenness. Considering that she found my by browsing drunk photos of me, I guess the events of that week were expected, but she showed great understanding nonetheless. I haven't licked alcohol from a table since, in tribute to my wife.

Since then we've (99% of the gigs I have attended have been with my brother) seen Stone Sour, Saliva, Disturbed, John Squire, Ocean Colour Scene, Feeder, Electric 6, Embrace, Black Stone Cherry, Sevendust, Stone Gods, Airbourne and a few more that I've forgot, at the barras, and every gig was amazing. We've been to a shitload of gigs elesewhere but the atmosphere at the barrowlands is unbeatable. The main reason for this is that the crowd is usually pished, and will sing along to anything.

Anyway, I'm sure I was writing this post for a reason, but have completely forgot it. I guess it means that drinking is good and should be encouraged.

That's not a Knife

I've been in the new job for three weeks now and everything seems to be going well. There's still no indication of how long it will last, but even the experience I've had so far is invaluable. I've pretty much been working on my own so I've not really had the chance to integrate, but I did spend half an hour talking to someone about cricket, which is a pretty good indication of the diversity of the workforce here. I'm not even the only vegetarian!

Oh,  I'm not even the only Scottish person who works for these guys, I've just found out there's someone else here who's from Falkirk! Not someone with a great-great-grandfather who drank Irn Bru once, but someone who has actually been in Falkirk for the majority of their life, and still drinks Irn Bru. He also met his wife online and moved here. I ended up speaking to him for about half an hour as well (don't worry, I worked my lunch), and I'm now hooked up for Scottish imports. It's nice to know that is isn't just me, Craig Ferguson, Drew McIntyre and Bill Dundee :-)

Getting back into the swing of full-time work has really calmed the homesickness a lot, although it will always be there. It's good to have my mind on something else and be able to get back into a normal routine, something which I haven't had since late 2009. Getting paid is good too. I am going to get a phone, a geetar, and some sort of games console. But I am going to be very responsible and spread out the purchases, because I'm a responsible person now.

I'm also going to get football nets, a basketball net, new clothes, Burnistoun DVD, The Thick of It box set,  new cricket gear, shoes, dart board, tickets to go see the pirates, and some sweets.



I joined my new cricket club and had my first training session a couple of weeks back. It won't be the same as stepping out onto the hallowed Bailliefields turf (mainly due to the decreased risk of drowning), but it will keep me going until we move back one day. They seemed like a good bunch of guys and have some talented players.  They are about the same level as my old club, so the games should be good. I can't play the full season this year due to the transport and work issues, but even getting a handful of games in will be nice.

I've come up with the idea of starting a cricket club in Atoka/Munford, since all the league teams are in Memphis or Little Rock. Don't have a clue where to start, but I thought it would be worth a go. See, if it's my team I get to play every game and open the bowling and batting. Don't know what the expat community is like in Tipton County and Millington, but surely if there are enough guys for five teams in Memphis there must be enough for one out in the country.

I had one of my first Crocodile Dundee moments the other day. The office was freezing and it was windy outside. So when I left for the night I expected it to be cold outside too, but it wasn't. In fact, it was rather warm. I felt like an alien to be so confused (if for only about two seconds) that it was cold inside but warm outside. . It may sound weird but air conditioning isn't really a big requirement back home, heating  is.

Some progress is being made.

This sign scares me every time we turn into our street. Look at both of them. They knew when they were getting their pictures taken that they would be on a billboard for the world to see. In fact, the whole idea of the photos are to entice customers though the door. Therefore surely the photographer didn't think the "guard dog" or the "have you seen my baseball" looks were going to get the job done? The Budweiser sign on the reverse is a bit more inviting tbh.

They do seem to like their billboards out here though, and the 80's Bonnie Tyler look is popular amongst the women. There are a few more scary ones which I'll showcase at some point. Don't even get me started on the church signs though.

After submitting a ridiculous number of job applications for a ridiculous range of different types of jobs, I finally secured some work. Now, I'm not 100% sure I even applied for the job, as  think this one was a case of me registering on the company's career site. Either way I got the call for an interview after about two weeks of no job search activity whatsoever. So the moral of the story is don't try.

It's a temp job which could possibly last until next year, or next week, and there are no benefits whatsoever. However it is technically the highest paid job I've had, so it all evens out. In all likelihood, the duration will depend on my performance, and as such I at least have some control over things, and if I'm shite at it I'd want to leave anyway!

I think I had been underselling myself a little in my job search, as my expectations were very low, so regardless of how long this post lasts I think it will be very useful in my search for permanent employment here. Having a US employer on my resume is invaluable, especially with them being a large organization both in Tennessee and the US.

So I start on Monday, and for the first time in 18 months I'll be employed full-time! I am still doing some work for my UK employer, whom  I will always be grateful to for helping me in so many different ways since I was laid off in 2009. Honestly, I'd work for them for free (although technically I am since my post is funded by the project I run).

I am very glad that I'll be working in the city as well. I've seen enough of how things are run out here in the country to confirm that I should probably steer clear! First of all, my skills don't transfer to many of the jobs available locally, and secondly I don't know anyone. The "not what you know, but who you know" cliche is definitely in effect here, and it can get ridiculous.  There is also the independence aspect of working 40 minutes away from home and being able to find my way about the city on my own. I still have to get my drivers license though, but the journey to work couldn't be much easier, just drive straight for about half an hour then turn right, park, and go to work!

Anyway, once next week has come and gone I'll have a better idea of how things are going to go. 

Karma

So that's been just over two months now. Any blind optimism that I did have has all but eroded, and despite me being a staunch realist it really does feel like a reality check has just slapped me in the face.

Working in a niche profession was great when I was in it (even though I hated the actual job) but trying to translate that into new employment has been hellish. Getting my old job was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that I got a really good job considering my qualifications, and a curse in that despite the free college education I received as part of my employment, the clusterfuck that is the Business department screwed up my degree efforts after two pointless years. By then even starting again wasn't an option because we started preparing for moving here, cue the best part of three years of not knowing what the fuck was happening.

I've been working away at my UK job, which essentially takes care of my bills back home and some here, and I've putting in a fair bit of time into our other job, but even combined they don't amount to much. Kinda shite when that's 40 hours of work each week with bugger all to show for it.

Every spare hour has therefore been dedicated to the so far fruitless job search. The only glimmer of hope in that regard, out of 50-plus applications and counting, has been a job where I had to take a test just to be able to apply, as at least I got to speak to a real person and see a real face. I went into Memphis, passed the test, applied, and have yet to hear back.  I would happily take an e-mail from an employer simply saying "fuck off", just to confirm I actually exist.

Sending out resumes, letters etc. has been useless, as so far it has only resulted in me getting directed to company recruitment websites.  This is absolutely useless for me, as without some background information my resume will get binned 9,999 times out of 10,000 as I only have UK experience and qualifications. All that only comes after having to sift through the five scam job postings for every genuine one. It's easy to be sceptical, but looking over my resume compared any old US resume will take a little more energy and effort, and if I know HR reps like I do, the path of least resistance will be followed. I have some amazing letters of recommendation from some excellent ex-colleagues who more than know their shit, but they are worthless because no-one will even fucking read them.

So after spending nine years of writing bullshit laden funding applications and reports to secure millions in grant funding to try and get hundreds of unemployed  people with all sorts of deprivations (diabilities, low qualifications, history of substance abuse, criminal records etc.) back into education or work, I can't even get someone to read my resume. Kind of leaves me wondering where the karma is.

I'm also stuck in that I can't just take any old minimum wage job for the sake of getting a job, because it wouldn't cover what I'm currently getting paid from back home (which ends in August) and would therefore be in an even worse position.

The fact that there are people in this world who purposefully avoid work makes me sick. Scum of the Earth.

None of this stuff is a surprise to me. I knew how much of a struggle this move was going to be, but to say it's draining would be an understatement. A huge understatement.

Oh hello!

I'm now three weeks into my American adventure and, as expected, it still doesn't feel like I live here, and working from home is weird.

I think both are connected in weirdness, because I reckon that as soon as I get a job here I'll actually feel like I'm in a different place. See, I'm living in a house with the same family I was living in a house with for the previous seven years (minus the one year that I was on my own) and without the ability to drive around, I'm pretty much in the house all day, every day. Then in the mornings I take the short walk (across the hallway) to work, and speak to the same people I've been speaking to for the last year, and in some cases deal with the same shit. Dealing with shit is easier when your thousands of miles away, but I'm still too much of a wuss to deliver a transatlantic "fuck you".

The driving is coming along nicely, I've had a few lessons, and driving an automatic is like driving a dodgem car, especially driving in Tipton County, it really is like driving at the fairground. I've taken to driving on the wrong (right) side of the road, with only one blemish so far, when I defaulted to the left coming out of the Dollar General car park, but that was early on in my journey and since then I've done pretty well, scaring the shit our of my wife aside. It doesn't build confidence when your driving instructor ducks when you're passing another vehicle, but we're getting there. I plan to try and get a test in before xmas, and I'll just keep bloody taking them until I pass.

I also got 100% on my driving knowledge test. I like getting good marks in tests, I am excellent at (written) tests and always have been, but that is due to me memorising stuff for a day and forgetting it forever. Anyway,  is was kind of humiliating when the driving department lady raved about my marks and how clever I am...for passing a test at 31 that most people take when they're 16. So I have my learners permit, which is also OK for ID, so I can buy beer now, if someone can drive me to the beer shop.

This place is a shady place though with the usual small town politics. Some person who got done for stealing public money gets a job managing public money, old folk get jobs because they know other old folk, someone needs to teach me the special handshake :-)  People also say "I want you to" rather than "can you" which isn't shady, but I don't like it, it's impolite. There is an underlying cuntiness about some folk that I have yet to get used to. It's probably unfair to call people I don't know cunts, especially when they don't understand that this can be an endearing term in my home country, because they can't help it.

There has been a tinge of music based homesickness, as I've been listening to Teenage Fanclub and the Delgados a lot recently. Two bands that I've always appreciated, but barely listened to before about two weeks ago. You'd love them too. I also listened to the Scottish music CD my colleagues gave me as a leaving present. Scottish people only listen to this music when they are away from home. The only people who listen to this in Scotland are tourists and people who are attending weddings. Here's some for you to enjoy:

Busy doing nothing - 8 Days

And now I am getting to that moment where it seems like I have absolutely bloody no time to do anything I need to do. Which in fact is nothing, but I know that there must be stuff for me to do because you don’t just sit around for a week before moving to another country.

I did re-pack at the weekend, and now I have got a potential four suitcases down to two, plus a carry-on. I’ll pack/throw out all but one set of work clothes tomorrow night, along with about half of the remaining clothes.

I’m pulling together some handover stuff for work, where I finish this Wednesday, but I’m only taking a week and a half’s holiday, because I’ll be back doing the same job soon enough, just in my home office. It’s nice that I can say I’ll sort that out when I’m back, but it’s also shit that I can’t say “fuck it” someone else will do it, like a long line of my predecessors have.

I’ve cleared out my desk, and have completed one of the bids I had to do before going, and should send out another tomorrow. Then I have to make sure everything is where it should be and that anything that should be with anyone else finds its way to them. I also have to factor in saying goodbye to everyone, eating cakes, and paying my last four or five visits to our very own Costa Coffee, where either Mary can serve me cappuccino flavoured lava, or Helen can somehow work her magic to make milk colder using steam.

From Wednesday onwards it will be the final run of goodbyes and see you laters, with my farewell to Fir Park, both my Grandad’s, all of my Motherwell family, my best mate, and Onesti’s chip shop to take place on Wednesday/Thursday. Friday has been left open for whatever, then on Saturday it’s the last football game and day/night out with my brother, and on Sunday its dinner with the family. Oh, and the pub quiz where we will exact our revenge on the milk drinking wankers that won last night.

Monday will be relatively quiet with some last minute preparations, including checking in online at 6am, and then it will be the dreaded goodbyes to Mum, Lauren, Stuart and Sheona. Onto Tuesday morning where Dad will drop me off at Edinburgh International Airport, we’ll do our manly goodbyes. Then it’s check-in, bathroom,  two mushroom and swiss cheese muffins, bathroom, security, shoes off, laptop out, shoes on, laptop in, bathroom, bottle of water, bathroom, board one and a bit hour flight to Amsterdam, pretzels, coffee, land, check into, Yotel, nap, security, shoes off, laptop out, bag searched, tetris bag back together, shoes on, laptop in, board nine hour flight to Memphis, no nap, shite food that I secretly like, beat someone at bejewelled, drink some free beer, land, customs-greencard-easy, pick up baggage, security, drop baggage again, smell BBQ, make my way to baggage reclaim, walk past Cassie and Davie, they find me, we all hug, get my bags, get in the car and forget that we even spent the last year mainly apart.

So I haven’t left myself too much time to fit in anything that I’ve missed, including the dentist, buying some gifts for my lovely colleagues, visiting my old neighbour, saying goodbye to my guitar, buying some new British clothes, and stockpiling marmite and chocolate.

Sometimes there isn't much to say - 12 Days

One thing that may hinder my getting on with the Americans is my relative quietness compared to them. OK Americans are stereotypically loud anyway, and us Brits are known for being a wee bit more reserved, but I'm generally on the quiet side even for a Scotsman.  I'm not shy or nervous, and don't have a lack of things to say. I have a shitload of opinions about everything. I'm just really not that fussed about talking a lot of the time. Quiet is nice. I also like thinking a lot, just not clever type thinking, I usually just do that when I get paid for it. 

I really am only writing about this subject because I have fuck all to blog about today. As with this here blog, when I do talk it tends to be bollocks, and a lot of it.  I got my birthday out of the way with no issues, and the day after is nearly done, so that only leaves 12 days of potential screw up. 

A plane nearly crashed in Singapore today, and someone asked me if that worried me, totally distracting me from trying to figure out if I'd seen the girl from Black Sheep somewhere before(the killer sheep movie, not the Spade/Farley one), imdb didn't throw anything up, so I guess she just looks like someone, which means there's no chance of figuring it out since I'm not really good with faces, I worry that I'll walk past people I know in the street because I forgot what they look like. I'd find them if I was looking for them though. 

Sorry Kevin

I'm so much worse with names, I used to speak to a colleague every day about stuff, and the fact he used to play cricket for my team back in the day. It took me about four years to figure out his name. It was kind of embarrassing asking another colleague who he was, when most of the time they saw the guy he was talking to me. I did try going through the cricket club archives to no avail. His name was Kevin, fuck knows what he looks like. That reminds me of someone who constantly called me John, despite being one of few Colin's in the organisation, and definitely the only one in the office. I even had people shout across the office at me when she was there, hoping it would click. The kind of thing Kevin should really have done for me really. Didn't work though.

She reminded me of the dizzy mum in Shaun of the Dead, a great movie, but I wish less people would like it. I was there from Big Train and Spaced and the one where he did a magazine and the guy Serafinowicz was a baddie in it. I figure it may be better to like popular shit after it's popular, and maybe everyone will piss off. 

I have to say, the Bee Gees song that came on was cheese perfection, for whom the bell tolls, if the first guitar refrain doesn't make you smile then you have no soul, not soul as in Aretha Franklin, an actual soul, you are just a shell of a Bee Gee hating nothing. Cheesy music has it's place, and it's mainly on my mp3 player. Many a morning I'd fill my two mile walk to work with 'bat out of hell', 'party hard', 'dead or alive', and 'you win again', sometimes even wondering how I would arrange the track if I was playing it live as a tribute to the artist who died just that day, which is nearly as good as picking out a random suit on the train and imaging them fronting the video for whatever song comes on next. 'Closer' always gets a good reaction. Another good thing is looking out the bus/train/car window, and imagining the next song is the first song in a movie, fading in from the opening credits, then cast everyone you see in the movie,  and then when you stop imagine how shit everything is compared to the movie plot you just dreamt up. I've never gotten round to dancing or singing with my headphones on though, anytime I see someone do that I think they must be really happy, but most probably just mental.

Not having a guitar for a while after I move is going to be a bitch. I'm not even that good at playing it, but if I close my eyes I can imagine that someone else is playing that shit and I don't feel so bad.

It's my last Friday of work tomorrow, and in four days I can say I'm moving next week.