A Live One

So it was a good night last night. I did my first truly planned pub crawl in London (we've done pub crawls, but not with a map and stuff, yo). My goal for the evening was a.) not to stagger at any point, b.) not to mix drinks dangerously, and c.) not drink any of the crappy cheap red wine they serve in 99% of British pubs that inevitably results in a splitting hangover. I am proud to say that I accomplished all of the above.

We started at De Hems, which is probably one of the coolest bars I've been to in London. Maybe that's because it's modeled after a bar in Holland. Seriously though, great beer on draught, lots of energy, and when I turned up after acupuncture there were LOTS of people there for our little escapade. We were there for a bit (long enough for a pint of Leffe Blonde) and then went on to the pretentiously named LVPO for another bit. At some point someone bought a round of Sol beer. I will never for the life of me understand the fascination with this beer. Corona can't be THAT much more expensive, right?

At LVPO, my friend F and I started making noises about getting food. Turns out both of our significant others have refused to put us to bed ever again after a night out without dinner. And since we know they mean it, we started whining at our ringmaster about dinner. Which prompted someone to - as predicted - stick a bag of French Fries in my face. I think the entire neighborhood of SoHo heard me shout "French! Fries! are! not! dinner!" Also? They're disgusting. Hula Hoops are MUCH better. (Note: A cry of "Still hungry" got me a pack of Salt and Vinegar flavored French Fries.)

We didn't stay at the next place - The Pillars of Hercules - long. Or at least F and I didn't. After one drink we discovered that our ringleader had disappeared...a quick call to his mobile determined that - gasp! - he was off buying kebabs (Britain's answer to greasy pizza) and would meet us at the next bar. F and I beat him there then spent 5 minutes fighting about how no, we didn't think this nice cocktail bar would be too happy if ten of us sauntered in and opened up kebab takeaway in their establishment. Which meant we ate our kebabs on the street. 'Cause we're classy like that.

We ended up not at Freud's (the aforementioned home of cocktails in pint glasses, and one of the main reasons I ended up in London...too many cocktails in pint glasses will make a girl agree to anything) but at a sweet little place called the Old Crown, where I had just had lunch on Wednesday. This is one of the few bars in London that serves wine in proper glasses which earns it a little place in my heart forever. It also has a lovely organic menu, a really nice bar staff, and what I've dubbed the "party toilet" - two commodes in one stall in the girls' room. Because you know girls are going to share a stall anyway, why not make it easier?

We managed to score the entire room upstairs and tried (unsucessfully) to get the staff to send up drinks through the dumbwaiter. They had really lovely drinks there, actually. Something with gin and black raspberries and something else? Mmmm. At some point F realized she'd left her purse somewhere, so we went on a reverse crawl to find it (luckily at the PoH...and not all the way back at the beginning...). At some other point there was an ice fight (boys). There was some good natured yelling, boob grabbing (not mine. Ahem.), more drinks, and at some point someone actually left to go take a conference call with the States (at 11pm. No I kid you not.). And there was lots and lots and lots of laughing. I made it home easily in one piece and don't actually feel rotten today. No barf, no fines, no staggering, no fighting, just friends and laughing and a nasty kebab on Shaftesbury Ave.

Yep, it was a very good night.

Posted by jmakunas at 05:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Judging from my experience, I’m going to be in no shape to post when I get home tonight, as I’m just about to be off to a joint leaving do and birthday party and I know it’s going to be insane. British “dos” are like nothing I’ve ever experienced in the States. Sure, we went on jags every once in a while, but they would usually be from bar to bar, peppered with appetizers, dinner, perhaps a stop at someone’s house, and it didn’t usually get sloppy until 2am when we’d inevitably be ensconced under the stalactites at NocNoc downing as many sake shots as we can stomach before last call.

But in Britain, where most pubs close at 11pm, nights out are much rougher, much more concentrated, and much more dangerous. First of all, no one bothers with dinner. Dinner is for wusses. Inevitably, at some point, someone will suggest dinner but that will lose out to the need for the next round and someone will bring back a few bags of crisps or Twiglets or peanuts and you have to grab and make do. I cannot tell you how many nights last year I ate a bag of Quavers for dinner. Quavers are not dinner.

Secondly, no one seems to care what you drink, just how much and how quickly. Tonight, for example, we’re going from a Dutch bar, to a club-type place, to a pub, and we’ll end up at a bar where they serve cocktails in pint glasses. “Beer before liquor” has no meaning here. Perhaps that’s why the city of London has just concluded a major public service campaign designed to start fining people for barfing on the street. The campaign included major bus shelter posters with “£80” written in vomit. Totally outrageous.

Thirdly, after 11pm all bets are off. That’s when it all goes to hell. Thousands of drunk gits are set loose on the streets as the pubs close, searching for someone with a late license, fighting for a cab, careening down the street singing football fight songs, or – you know – fighting with our trash. This is when you hope that you’re out with a nice boy who will put you in a cab and send you home or when you brave the bus by yourself. This is also when you hope you don’t barf on the bus (£80!) or on the cabbie (which could get you chucked out unceremoniously in the middle of Clerkenwell). Neither of which – thank GOD – I have ever done.

So yeah. Not going to be in any state tonight to post. If it's a good night at all.

Posted by jmakunas at 05:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Michael and I decided to walk to Broadway Market for lunch today. Broadway Market is like the Berkeley Bowl to Borough Market's Ferry Plaza, full of earnest couples with their woolly sweaters and their kids with wild hair and striped tights mixing with people from the surrounding council estates and a smattering of young hipsters recovering from a night on the pull. It's all very Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall meets Pete Doherty, only about a 20 minute walk from our flat.

We documented our odd ramble through Hackney in search of a hog roast sandwich and a cupcake:

Shoreditch Church

Courtyard of a building on Hackney Road

Ye Olde Axe - something's still going on in there, despite the facade.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Mmmm...sacreligious.

Indeed it is.

Who knew radiators could be so hip?

Is the Slow Farm like the Short Bus? (No...in all seriousness, this was a cool picture.)

BMX track at Hackney City Farm

Does what it says on the tin.

Not jaded enough not to still think these are cool.

What I want to shout to almost every band in England.

I'm ordering Thanksgiving flowers from this place by name alone.

Hot jellied eels, pies, and mash. Yes, it still exists.

Broadway Market on a Saturday

Everything from organic veg to vintage coats to vinyl to blankets.

Espresso cupcake with candied orange peel from Violet. Worth the walk.

Posted by jmakunas at 02:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Five things I love about living in London (it's not all doom and gloom, ya know):

5. Riding on the top of a double-decker bus. Which I do every day both to and from work. It hasn't gotten old yet, and I hope it never does.

4. The pub culture, especially boozy lunches on Fridays and a warm corner with a glass of wine and good gossip after work. I love how "going down the pub" is such an essential part of British life - the "third place" that just doesn't exist in American life (despite Starbucks' attempts to the contrary).

3. Sunday Roasts. The English answer to brunch, and much more my speed. Newspapers, a pint, and some roast beef and yorkshire pudding. Even better in a slightly shabby but still hip regenerated boozer like the Prince Bonaparte, The Princess, or the Northgate (our three favorites).

2. Borough Market. A foodie's dream and so authentically and atmospherically London it's almost unreal. I love that I know it well enough to dash in and out for a quick 20 minute shop or to wander for 2 hours. I never thought I'd say this, but the Ferry Plaza just can't compare.

1. My neighborhood. It doesn't look like much, but it's a vibrant, diverse slice of East London. I love that Spitalfields is right down the street and the Columbia Road Flower Market is around the corner. I love that it has the hippest restaurant I've ever been to right around the corner from the homiest. I love our little Food Hall market for everyday, and that Tesco is a 10 minute walk. I love how Zigfrid's is bumpin' at 4pm on a Sunday. I love how it never gets touristy during the day, but is crawling with the B&T crowd on Saturday nights. I love our Thai takeaway place. I love that one of the London;s best boutiques is tucked away in an alley right behind one of its greatest modern furniture stores. I love how close it is to Brick Lane. I love being able to get challah for 50p 24/7. I love our wine store. I love that it's a challenging place to live. It may not be San Francisco, but it's just fine for now.

Posted by jmakunas at 05:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Musically speaking, it's been a good week for us.

Despite both being sick and the weather STILL being SERIOUSLY LOUSY WHEN THE HELL IS IT GOING TO GET SUNNY MY GOOD GOD IT'S JUNE ALREADY we've had a few excellent things happen.

Monday was a bank holiday and we went to see David Gilmour (guitarist for Pink Floyd) at the Royal Albert Hall. I was sick and realistically shouldn't have gone out (and sat outside in line for an hour to get a good place for our SRO tickets) but man am I glad I did. We knew Gilmour would have some special guests because he was recording the Monday show (and the Tuesday show, which I DID skip) for a DVD. And yes, David Crosby and Graham Nash were there to sit in on some of the songs from the new album. That was cool. They can sing, though they're looking rough. Crosby's huge and Nash looks like Gary Busey and cannot stand still.

The sets were pretty much standard for this tour: a few Floyd songs to open, then the entire new album On an Island for the first set. The second set was more Floyd, including a blazing Echoes. It's easy to forget the true power of Pink Floyd. The music is both menacing and achingly achingly beautiful and to hear it played note-perfect in a venue like the Royal Albert Hall is somewhat overwhelming.

And then, as he has been doing, he encores with "Wish You Were Here" (with more Crosby and Nash) and a CSN song, and then...AND THEN...he brings out DAVID BOWIE.

DAVID BOWIE.

And they sing Floyd's "Arnold Layne" and it's very cool. And then they sing "Comfortably Numb" and it's quite possibly the best single live music experience I've ever had. I've had all week to try to figure out what to write that would do it justice, and I just can't. That song is perfect already (gorgeous, haunting, capped by probably the best guitar solo ever written) and freakin' DAVID BOWIE was standing up there, looking sharp as fuck, sounding amazing, singing the Roger Waters parts, while David Gilmour nails that incredible ethereal bridge and chorus. The entire hall was silent. I have never seen anything like it. (And it made me wish that I'd seen Pink Floyd...in some incarnation...at some point.)

Mike went back on Tuesday but no more Bowie (he be 60, you know...heh...).

Today, more good music things: M got a job. Not just a job, but a job at a music network. Yes, that one. AWESOME. Tonight we went BACK to the Royal Albert Hall (M was there Monday, Tuesday, and Friday this week) to see Zappa plays Zappa: Dweezil and a band - many of whom played with Frank - playing two excellent sets of Zappa music extremely well. I don't know much Zappa (outside of Peaches en Regalia, which they played, using the ORGAN at the RAH...), and M kept leaning over to tell me the song names which were seriously weird. Zappa is seriously weird. But surprisingly, the show wasn't weird at all...it was truly a celebration of Frank's music - which is challenging, complicated, and really really fun - and a lot more engaging than I expected. No Bowie, though.

So all we need is for Phish to get back together and we'll be set.

Posted by jmakunas at 12:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It was a bank holiday weekend last weekend and instead of going away, we stayed in London and prayed for sun. Didn't get any sun, but we did have a nice relaxing weekend wandering around Camden and Islington and getting some stuff done at home that we haven't had a chance to do. We also slept so much that we both got sick. Seriously.

Despite the lack of sun, I did manage to plant a few pots of flowers and buy a hanging pot for our deck. (The hanging pot is the white one...not hanging in this picture.)

Yes, they match our pretty stripey deck chairs (Hi Mom! You know what they say about the apple and the tree...).

Then we stubbornly sat in said deck chairs and had a glass of sherry, even though it was really cold and not sunny at all.

Then we went back inside and huddled on the couch under blankets and watched 24.

We also had an amazing concert experience, which I will post about as soon as M gets the photo off his camera phone. Just to tease, all I have to say is "You be 40" (even though he be almost 60).

Posted by jmakunas at 10:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The weather is finally getting nice...well...nice-er...and because this past Saturday was truly lovely (San Francisco weather!) Michael and I decided to play "tourists at home" and walk down through The City, along the river, and end up at the Tower of London.

It's a neat walk from our place down through The City to the river. We decided to walk right past the Swiss Re building (known as "the Gherkin," but which I can't help but call "the Pickle"). It's debatably ugly - in shape at least - but has some seriously redeeming geometric qualities:

It's also right across the street from the Lloyd's of London building which is also a feat of modern architecture, though of a strikingly different sort:.

Frankly, I hate it, but it does make for some cool pictures.

One of the things I love about living somewhere that's been around for longer than a few hundred years is the juxtaposition of old and new. I took a conference call the other day in the square next to St. Paul's Cathedral and tried to remind myself that the beauty of my surroundings should trump the idiocy on the phone. Somehow, it's easier to appreciate that kind of beauty on the weekends:

We eventually made it down to the Tower and found that it wasn't horribly crowded. (Crowded is - of course - relative in London. And I did overhear a southern drawl expressing surprise that the ice cream vendor didn't take American money. Sigh.) When I took the picture below, we were planning on walking across the bridge after we finished at the Tower. We decided to leave that for another day, but it's still a cool view:

Yes, this dude is actually guarding the Crown Jewels. He marches, too.

The jewels were sparkly and all that, but frankly a bit disappointing. I'd rather see Diana's dresses (heh). Besides, I was much happier to be outside. Indeed, I have photographic proof that Spring is FINALLY here. Thank God.

(Note: The picture above is also supposed to be where the ravens usually live, however they've been kept indoors since February as a preventative measure against bird flu (them getting, not giving...).)

I walked home from work tonight, too...it's finally light late enough that I can make the hour's walk and get home before it's dark. It's not the prettiest walk ever (High Holborn to Newgate to Bank to Bishopsgate...) but with Phish's NYE 1993 on my iPod and just a little bit of blue sky it was almost perfect.

Posted by jmakunas at 09:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Interesting occurrence at our house two nights ago:

M and I were both dead asleep at midnight when we heard (and felt) a major crash and heard glass shattering. We though it was the garbage truck (they come late at night on Thursdays and make a lot of noise), but then about 30 seconds later we heard it again and felt the building shaking.

M jumped out of bed to look out the window and then turned around and yelled "Someone is BREAKING INTO OUR BUILDING! DON'T MOVE!" and sprinted for the front door. (Of course, I think that means that we have people charging up the stairs, but he just wanted to make sure we were locked and bolted. Which we were). There's no way I was just going to sit in bed and let this happen, so I dashed after Michael and called the emergency services number (which serves police, fire, ambulance, and coast guard, apparently. Just in case Curtain Road ever floods). While I was trying to get through to the police Mike went back to the window to see a few guys (2? 3? 4?) run out of the office that's on the ground floor of our building and take off on mopeds with a bunch of laptops.

(Note: While it was super-trippy and somewhat cool to hear a clipped voice answer the phone with "Hello, New Scotland Yard," I was wholly unimpressed with my ability to get through to the police. What about "I live at [building number, street name, post code] and someone is breaking into our building right now!" is so hard to understand?!?" I finally gave the phone to Michael, and he couldn't get them to recognize our address, either. Not comforting.)

Anyway, while we were on the phone, a police car comes flying down our street (the people in the building across the street called immediately, as they saw the whole thing too). We hang up with Scotland Yard (who still haven't found our address yet) and M and I and our downstairs neighbors Ollie and Lorna all hang out the windows screaming down at the cops about what we saw. We had all been asleep and all had seen (and heard) different things, but the stories all matched.

Ollie and Lorna are lovely – we don't know them that well at all, but they're our age, creative types, and do a lot of what we do (cook at home, play funk music, have friends over). Ollie's always struck me as kind of a tough bloke himself, and my favorite quote of the night came from him, leaning halfway out their living room window, shirtless, bed-headed, still with the phone because he was calling 999 too, yelling in his thick accent "OY! Then the fat one grabbed a laptop and took off on the moped!" (See...there was humour!)

The next morning as I was leaving for work the people who own the office that was robbed were outside and I got to talk to them. Apparently the robbers seriously warped the security gate somehow - maybe with a crowbar, but maybe by ramming a car into it (which is called a "ramraid," I guess, and somewhat common in Britain) or hooking it to a car's bumper and pulling - and then smashed the shit out of the security glass behind it. They made off with 2 G5 desktops and 3 laptops (they must have taken the computers the first time and the laptops on the mopeds). Very fucking scary.

What we can't parse out is whether the robbers were super duper stupid or really smart. Our street is well lit, well trafficked, and has a ton of security cameras. It gets constant foot traffic at all times (more humour: drunk pub/club-hoppers wandering down the street gawking at the cop cars and crime scene unit and four barely-clothed people hanging out the windows shouting) The office was right under the street lamp and they made a massive amount of noise. However, they must have had a plan, since you can't just throw a G5 on a moped and no one wandered by when they were carrying out the job, so they had to have been working with someone else or had lookouts or something. Yuck. M thinks maybe it was a gang initiation or something where brazen violence was encouraged. The thought of someone casing our apartment makes me ill, so I'm choosing to think it really was random. We haven't heard anything about the case, but we'll find out what's happening eventually.

I guess that living in the city is...well...living in the city.

Posted by jmakunas at 03:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So wrong. So very, very wrong.

One of the things I am enjoying about my new role in London is that from time to time there are some nice perks. There are the usual dinners and such, and because I'm lucky enough to work for someone who believes in celebrating a job well done there have been some excellent nights out and team getaways, etc.

But since we also work with BT and are one of their major broadband sales channels (as well as a large portion of their product), they often host us at "hospitality" events. For example, we've been to see Master's Tennis at the Royal Albert Hall and to dinner at BT Tower, and there are always invites for plays and dinners and such coming through. Today Faye and I went out to Champneys in Tring for a spa day with BT and some of their other partners. Unfortunately, the resort messed up our treatments, so we spent a lot of time shuffling around in our robes, going in and out of the saunas and relaxation room, and drinking tea. However, the massage and facial were lovely, and there was endless humour at the sight of a formal dining room filled with people of all shapes and sizes in terry cloth...call it "Sanitarium Chic."

Between that and the secret gig we went to last night courtesy of Yahoo! Music, it's been quite the week of perks.

I'm still holding out for Wimbledon, though....

Posted by jmakunas at 05:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Do you know who this is?

I used the word �faddish� to describe the British culture to M the other day. Regardless of whether of not it actually IS a word, it�s a perfect description for this country. It seems like everyone simultaneously and constantly obsesses over something or other: Fairtrade, fashion, ethical living, Celebrity Big Brother, the gender gap, Jamie Oliver�the list is ever evolving (and that�s kind of the point).

I find it fascinating, to be honest. San Francisco is kind of a bubble�and while that�s part of what I love about living there, it often can feel isolated from the rest of the country, out of tune with the ebb and flow of general American interests. Since we�ve moved here, we�ve tried to stay on top of what�s really current in Britain. We read (and adore) the Guardian and the Observer, we watch what�s popular on TV (regardless of whether or not we understand it), and we just try to soak it all in. Sometimes it works: The Observer is a brilliant paper, as intelligent as the New York Times without being so pedantic, and their monthly music magazine is the best music writing I�ve read in a while. Sometimes it doesn�t: Celebrity Big Brother�um, what?

However, we�re both enamored of the BBC2 Sunday evening staple Top of the Pops. Each week, a rotating group of smart-ass presenters play host to an amazing mix of artists and pop stars, count down the Top 10 Albums, show some old footage and some videos, and build up to the announcement of the week�s #1 single (a single! See above re: faddish) which is then performed live.

I�m constantly amazed at how relevant TOTP seems to be. Big stars (BIG stars) from all countries come to perform live (the archive reveals this has always been the case) and the music is incredibly diverse (we like a lot of it, too). What�s equally amazing is how much the charts shift from week to week and how many small, regional, and relatively unknown acts can make it big in Britain. This week, there were (I think) four groups/artists on either the show or the charts from the show �The X Factor� (like Pop/American Idol but for groups as well as individual singers)�and the actual winner of the show wasn�t among them. This both amazes and amuses me to no end.

So...happy Sunday night! I now present this week�s TOTP lineup:

10. The Strokes �Heart in a Cage� � performed live. This rocked.

9. Cyndi Lauper �Time after Time� � performed live. This ALSO rocked (she�s 53!!).

8. Nature�s Law �Embrace� � the #2 single of the week, shown as a video. If you close your eyes, the guy sounds EXACTLY like Chris Martin. Then, when you open your eyes, the little pop-up-video-esque info on the screen tells you he�s Chris�s best mate. Hmmm.

7. Kim Wilde �Kids in America� � flashback performance. According to TOTP, Kim was quite a �foxtress� in her day.

...then we get to review of the Top 10 Albums, which leads to a live performance off the #1 album of the week...

6. Journey South �The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.� Two dudes from The X Factor who look like Nelson with short hair and are probably destined to have an equally short career.

5. Pink �Stupid Girls� � live performance. See what I mean about big stars? Pink�s single dropped this week in the UK�ergo she�s on TOTP immediately thereafter.

4. Mattfix �To & Fro� � live performance. Who?

3. Prince �Black Sweat� � video. Apparently the last time Prince was live at TOTP he spent the day backstage with a chainmail mask on. No wonder they didn�t invite him back. Besides, he�s too busy making himself at home in LA. They did refer to his new album 3121 as �a cracker� which I found hysterical.

2. The Streets �When You Wasn�t Famous� � live performance. Apparently The Streets were last year�s Arctic Monkeys who thought their success would allow them to get famous girls. This song features the following profound and universal truth: �When you try to pull a girl who is oh-so-famous too/It feels just like when you wasn�t famous.� Amen.

�finally, the highlight of every week, the countdown of the singles chart and the great reveal and live performance of the single Britan�s been buying the most�

1. Ne*Yo �So Sick.� Which made me just that.

Thank you, and goodnight!

Posted by jmakunas at 07:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tonight will definitely go down as one of the weirder nights I've had in London yet.

Envision this:

Me, dressed to the nines, sick as a dog, after a day of interminable partner meetings, sitting at a fancy dinner on the top of BT Tower next to my boss, trying to make converstation with a Welsh rugby player of whom I've never heard and from whom I only understand every fifth word, while the room rotates to show us a lovely but somewhat nausea-inducing view of London.

The lamb was delicious, but I just wanted to crawl into bed with a couple of Tylenol PM.

Posted by jmakunas at 10:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Half of Umphrey's McGee at the GAMH in San Francisco last summer...Now that I know what "Laddish" means, I think it applies here.

We've seen a few shows since we've been in London, but it's hardly the feast we used to get in San Francisco when seeing a great band was as easy as walking three blocks to The Yankee to catch everyone from Brad Barr to Perpetual Groove to Skerik. Everyone and everything comes through San Francisco; the city is equally a forgiving training ground for new side projects and experimental evenings as it is the place where bands come to throw down in their best attempt to do justice to the same venerated venues that launched Jerry, Janis, and Jefferson Airplane.

London�s obsessed with music, but it�s a bit different. The entire country knows about the latest chart topper (Pop Idol reject Chico) and Brit-pop darlings (Arctic Monkeys, not really my thing). They can name all of Girls Aloud, The Sugarbabes, and The Pussycat Dolls, but people sort of tilt their head and squint their eyes when I mention the Grateful Dead or Phish. In some ways it�s a welcome relief, but mostly it just makes me a bit homesick.

M saw Medeski Martin and Wood while I was in Tenerife last September. We�ve seen The New Mastersounds and Jeff Tweedy solo�two shows that we could have never seen in the US, and last week we saw Beth Orton at the end of her tour, back home in London at Shepherd�s Bush Empire. But on the whole � as expected � we�ve been hurting a bit for a musical fix that features a crowd full of dancers, a few dreadlocks here and there, and an artist that doesn�t need to play the single.

Feast or famine, I guess, because tomorrow night the onslaught starts: 6 nights of music in the next 9 days. I feel a bit like I do right before New Year�s Eve when the anticipation of music to come keeps me up at night. The funny thing is, we�re going to see 5 different bands, none of whom would make my Top 5 back in the States, but all of whom feel familiar and comforting and make me happy.

Tomorrow night we see Umphrey�s McGee from Chicago (my real hometown!), a band best described as �Improg� for their experimental combination of Prog Rock (think Yes, Rush, early Genesis, and King Crimson) and Improvisational Jams (jamband style�). I like Umphrey�s�I listen to their music a fair bit and I think they�re pretty damn talented, though not always my style. Right now my excitement at seeing them in London is completely disproportionate to my feelings about their music. I think I underestimated my need to put on my stinky tour shoes and just go dance.

Here�s hoping they play KaBump.

Posted by jmakunas at 10:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

About seven months ago, M and I left our beloved San Francisco and moved to London for my job. The move happened both very quickly (from initial idea to landing at Heathrow was about 4 months) and very slowly (it took us another 4 months to actually get settled).

Despite email, IM, VoIP, and all the fancy schmancy ways we have of talking to friends and family immediately and inexpensively, it's been nearly impossible to keep up with everyone all the time. That, coupled with the fact that - as I noted below - I though it would be interesting for posterity's sake to chronicle our adventures, led me to revive this blog (now with Flickr!).

I'll do my best to use this as the most current and updated place to see and hear what we're up to and to learn what we really think about London and living abroad. I will also use this to do what I've always done: pimp music (look on the sidebar for the latest), post detailed pictures of the meals we cook, and rhapsodize on my various obsessions.

In short, pick up where I left off, but from half a world away.

Cheers!

Posted by jmakunas at 12:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)