Rant: bank holiday

Trying to accomplish anything on a bank holiday is a futile task. I think the simple existence of bank holidays here highlights a major difference between the UK and the US. I’m all about them in principle- all people are entitled to days off from work and should have that right given to them by the state. What’s strange is how that right morphs depending on where you are.

Because Christmas fell on a Sunday this year, the public was given an extra ‘day off’ in addition to Boxing Day. For Americans, it’s a bit difficult to understand what Boxing Day is for and after asking pretty much everyone I work with its become pretty clear to me that that’s the entire point. In the same way that Labor Day in September doesn’t make much sense as a ‘holiday’ , Boxing Day has no other purpose than to be a day off for everyone in the realm. Again- all for that. Back to the point though- because of Sunday Christmas, an extra day was entitled to allow people to have their requisite two holiday days off. So the 27 has become a day off for no reason whatsoever. In some way it feels like one masterful plan on the part of retailers- enabling a public eager for a deal to extend their Boxing Day shopping. Its definitely worked, if the crowds I passed on my journey from my flat in search of a haircut are any indication. Sadly, the exact thing I need is not easy to come by on a bank holiday.

Now, in the states, hair places are pretty much open all year. Sure, the salons will be closed but the chain places are always open- even on bank holidays. That goes to the heart of American enterprise at the expense of American labor doesn’t it? If you need a haircut you’ll always be able to get one-period. Today that seems to be a bit of an impossibility. I’m in a Supercuts: waiting for one of two stylists to finally get to me so I can get a haircut I’ve been dying for for weeks. Part of me wants to just say screw it and get it tomorrow before work (if that would be possible, who even knows) because I have a feeling whatever I end up getting wont be all that satisfying for the money i’m spending. Then again, I’m probably just complaining because I’ve been thwarted by this random bank holiday. Who wouldn’t complain in this position, where I could spend thousands of pounds on retail crap but can’t even get a haircut?

Alright. Rant ended.

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July 19th, 2011

“Lucifer”

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On My iPod: December 15th, 2011

1. Robyn – Dancing On My Own

2. Cazwell & Peaches – Unzip Me

3. Fleetwood Mac – Songbird

4. Kele – What Did I Do?

5. Hall & Oates – Jingle Bell Rock

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July 18th, 2011

“Commuter”

Night time transit rides are a hodgepodge of humanity squished into a cramped, uncomfortable space. Unlike the ubiquitous rush hour periods, night transit seems to move slower without the mass of people giving the experience a buzz of life. The empty seats, blank expressions and long stares out into the black somehow drag out one’s time on night time transit. My nights spent on BART, in particular, are too numerous to count. A collection of odd visual freeze frames- a coughing child, two drunken friends, a loud and obnoxious woman singing along to her favorite Rihanna song- encircle my memories of late night BART rides, xylophonic in tone and demeanor.

Often I wonder if any of my fellow night time passengers are wondering why I’m riding with them, pondering the same thoughts as me. What brought him here? Where has he come from? What is he listening to? How many more stops will he sit there? Why does he keep staring at me? Searching eyes scan the car, avoiding equally interested eyes from a few seats away. What about such enclosed spaces encourages us to simultaneously reject interaction and demand interrogative answers? Perhaps it comes from a desire to not be alone with one’s own thoughts?

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Full On Adolescence

(this is my first attempt at an iPhone blog post so if it’s not nearly as photo heavy- apologies.)

Today is my birthday.

Well, not exactly. I’ve still got another 80 or so days to go before I’m twenty eight, an age I’ve (for some reason) always wanted to be. Today is my gay birthday.

Well, again, not exactly. If I really look at the calendar from 1999, there are a smattering of days where I “came out” to someone. The ninth is sort of my catch all date, a chosen time to acknowledge a period of my life where nothing was certain. Over the years I’ve made a point of reflecting on this day, giving myself a gay score for the past year’s events.

So what was 2011 like in comparison to the past? We’re still waiting on a Prop 8 ninth circuit decision, a DOMA repeal and full on gay marriage here in the UK. California’s the first in the nation to require LGBT history in k-12 public schools, hopefully leading to greater knowledge and thus greater acceptance of LGBT individuals amongst the coming generations. Personally, not much has changed which is actually quite a positive. James and I are still going strong, almost three years this February. We moved house northward from London to Birmingham, a second move to add to our future tally. We’ve been on vacations, weathered awful letting agencies, had plenty of great meals and appreciated it all. I can’t find anything to complain about.

Looking to the coming year, it does feel like anything is possible. That’s cheesy but genuine. I’m working regularly but have room to grow into a post-education identity. 2012 has nothing but opportunity and I’m happy to claim it. It’s strange to think what my 15 year old self would think, if he had some crystal ball that looked into the future. I really can’t imagine it and I like that I can’t. Instead of being beholden to the dreams of a teenager, I’m forging my own living dreams and I’d never give that up.

Here’s to 2012. Next year is my gay-mitzvah- party in England and you’re all invited.

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