Fumblers B – SMCA Division 6 Premiers!

Let's take a break from all the uncertainty surrounding that whole "job" thing to report some happy news. For two Saturdays ago, the Fumblers B -- my friends' recreational cricket team for whom I occasionally play -- won the grand final in their division! As 12th man,* I admittedly had very little to do with it, but it was still a great achievement and something that we're all quite proud of.

*For those who don't know what 12th man is: There are 11 people on a cricket team. However, when fielding, teams are allowed one substitute. That's the 12th man. There were already 11 guys more deserving than I to play on the core squad, but still wanting to contribute in some way possible, I volunteered to be 12th man.

I won't bore you with the specifics of the match. But we won, quite easily. Absurdly easily. In fact, after taking about three or four wickets in the first half hour of the match, it was all but over. We ultimately bowled them out for 122 runs, and once we put up 33 runs in the first three overs, well, the writing was on the wall.

Say hello to your Sydney Morning Cricket Association Division 6 premiers!


And here I am, treating the trophy as if it were the Stanley Cup or some other precious item whose existence I was actually aware of more than three hours earlier.


Close-ups of the trophy:


To think: we'll now forever be immortalized next to the likes of esteemed teams such as Taxation C, Electricity B, Water Board B, Taxation D* and, of course, "No competition."**

*Taxation D would always live in the shadow of Taxation C.

**As you can see from the second picture above, "No competition" reigned supreme for a cool 31 out of 40 years in one stretch, from 1967-72 and 1981-2007. We're talking Wooden-era UCLA Bruins here, folks.

And the press coverage! We garnered some serious ink in the Sydney Morning Herald, with this mention right above their prestigious croquet coverage.


Although I guess it would've kinda sorta been nice if they had actually spelled our team name correctly...

Check out a full album of pictures here.

It was a good day, one that I won't forget anytime soon. But our cricket festivities are far from over! Get ready, folks, because the Fumblers B Newy Decathlon is making its triumphant return, from May 7 to 9. Brace yourselves.

I have a job?

As I said a couple of posts ago, in my search for a job, I'd leave no stone unturned. Well, it looks like that may have paid off, in the most unlikely of ways. Kind of.

Via the online Penn alumni directory, I got in touch with a guy who runs a digital agency that develops fully integrated website solutions for businesses. What does that mean? Think of everything that goes into a website. Not just what consumers see, which any agency and their mother can design these days, but all the stuff you don't see, the unglamorous, technical stuff to which many give lip service but few deliver: capturing data, generating traffic, tracking consumers' interactions with the site, building customer and prospect databases, etc. This guy's company does it all.

I thought I was going in for a simple informational interview. I left with a job... in the loosest sense of the word.

You see, this guy needs someone to generate new business. And based on our 90-minute meeting, he came to the conclusion that I could help him do that. How? I don't know; there's still a ton I need to learn about the agency's resources and capabilities. And, oh yeah, I've never actually been in sales before. So there's that.

There's got to be a catch, right? Yeah, there is: there's no base salary. That's right! At least to start, payment for this job is 100% based on commission. Now granted, I only would need to bring in four or five customers to this agency each year to be making good money. But when you're asking a new customer -- in this economy, no less -- to invest something in the six-figure range for a new/updated website, generating even that much business is a pretty big ask. So that's a bit shitty.

Why do it then? Because it's completely non-committal, with zero risk. I'll be committed to making this "job" work, yes. I'll have to take some time to try to learn the ropes, yes. And I'll definitely be trying to make some sales, yes. But at the same time, I have complete freedom to continue to search for work. In fact, that was the owner's selling point: You're currently searching for work at home. Why don't you start to do that from my office, and at the same time, I'll show you what we do here. If you like it and make some sales, great. If you don't, or you find something else you'd rather do, you're free to move on. What's the downside for me in that pitch??? I thought about it for a day, and I couldn't think of one.

When contemplating jobs I'd like to do, something like this would be far from the top of the list. But this is a no-lose situation? I try something new and see if I like it. If I do, great! And if I don't, I lose nothing. I start on Monday. And who knows? Maybe this will be the start of something new and great.

My life: The (relatively near) future

My life seems to be at a bit of a nexus right now. Just finished a whirlwind of a trip to LA; now I'm back in Sydney; and then... well, I don't know what happens then. I used the first post to tackle the (very immediate) past. Then I looked at the present. So now, it's the (relatively near) future... not that even I know what it holds for me.

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The future. Right.

Here's the easy answer: A job is offered to me by May 8. I accept said job. My new employer sponsors my work visa. I stay in Australia.

Hooray! Done and done.

So can we move on now? Perhaps to a topic more pleasant?

Ahhhhhhhhh, crap. Fine. Let's consider the other road that I could go down, the one that I wish I didn't have to entertain. But I guess that this is life, and I guess we have to consider all possibilities, even those that are unpleasant.

So let's break it down.

On the off chance that I don't find a job by May 8,* the next phase in what apparently has become my vagabond life begins. Australia begins to end. Some traveling commences. Australia ends. And then the real traveling begins.

*Not sure why I'm referring to this possibility as an "off" chance. If anything, it's the odds-on favorite scenario.

Here's the thing: For the past year or so, it's been my intention to do some traveling before ultimately moving back to the US. And as this has percolated in the back of my head, I'd assumed that this would be at the time of my choosing, perhaps not for a few more years. It seems, however, that my hand might be forced, and that "time of my choosing" may be now. But be that as it may, I'm still determined to travel. So that's what I'd do.

First would be the rest of Australia. For while I've seen a fair amount of this country -- the entire east coast, in fact -- this is a massive land mass. So there's still much to see: Western Australia (specifically Perth), the Northern Territory (specifically Darwin), Uluru (aka Ayers Rock), Tasmania and maybe another place or two.

Then it's on to the big trip: South America. There, the (very, very, very tentative) plan is to fly to one of the cities in the south -- either Buenos Aires or Santiago -- spend a month picking up some Spanish, and then slowly work my way north, into Central America and back to the US. And when I say "slowly", I really mean that; this would be a full-on adventure, with no more than a rough itinerary and no pressure to move any faster than I want to.

And then, once back in the US? Well, I have zero idea. In fact, I don't even know where I'd live! But that would be a long, long time from now, and remember, this is a very hypothetical scenario that may never eventuate so soon. At least I hope.

Which brings us back to May 8. That's my future at the moment, and outside of this post, you better believe that's all I'm thinking about. Because if/when I get that job, everything you've read in the six paragraphs above gets put on indefinite hold. And I'd be quite alright with that.

My life: The present

My life seems to be at a bit of a nexus right now. Just finished a whirlwind of a trip to LA; now I'm back in Sydney; and then... well, I don't know what happens then. I used my last post to tackle the (very immediate) past. Now up: my present circumstances.

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The week in LA is over.

Last Wednesday morning, after a nice flight on V Australia (had a whole row to myself!), I arrived back in Sydney. Eager to get a move on things, I jumped off the plane, darted through customs, grabbed my luggage and ran out of the airport so that I could get back to... well, yeeeeaaaaaahhhhh. There actually wasn't anything to get back to. For I am still sans job. It sucks.

This sucktitude really took hold of me sometime in early March, when, after over a month of searching for work day after day, it became apparent that the GFC was in full effect. There are hardly any jobs out there, and when one becomes available, dozens of qualified applicants flock. Yeah, it sucks. And it began to get me down.

Clearly, I needed to recharge my batteries. And with Sam, Sarah and Robert visiting for two weeks, followed by my trip to LA, I had the opportunity to do just that. The time from mid March to last Wednesday was fantastic.

Back in Sydney and refreshed -- and that includes defying jet lag yet again! -- I'm determined to renew and redouble my efforts to locate a job. So no stone goes unturned! I'm calling in all favors from anyone I know, reaching out to friends of friends of friends, calling up every Penn alum in Australia and hanging out at traffic intersections with cardboard signs that profess my desire to work. If there's an opportunity out there, I'll locate it. And then beg for the job.

But here's the thing: I can't keep on doing this in perpetuity. Amazingly, we're looking at 87 days of unemployment and counting. 87 freaking days. Nearly three months. To me, that's a staggering number, one that I never dreamed of encountering.

As much as I love Sydney, love the people, love the weather, I can't continue to go on, day by day, without any purpose or income. Something needs to change. So as much as it pains me to do so, I've given myself until May 8 to locate a job. That's four work weeks after I first arrived back in Sydney. If I don't find a job by this deadline? Well, my (potential) future awaits. And we'll tackle that last topic next.

My life: The (very immediate) past

My life seems to be at a bit of a nexus right now. Just finished a whirlwind of a trip to LA; now I'm back in Sydney; and then... well, I don't know what happens then. So I'm gonna use the next posts to tackle these three topics. First: the (very immediate) past. As in, last week.

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Last I updated this thing -- prior to an impromptu rant on Kevin Smith -- I had just come off of a few good days in LA: quality time with the parents, real Mexican food with Benny and Hannah, and Dodgers-Angels with Dave.

To expound on the Dodgers game, a few highlights:

• All around the stadium are large pictures of Dodger greats. Including... Nomar Garciaparra??!?
  


• The Dodger Dog, of course. I'd include a picture here, but I was too busy wolfing it down to capture the moment.


• We all know that Juan Pierre is extremely upset that he's coming off the bench this year. But did he really have to express his disappointment in this photo, the one that they show on the Jumbotron every time he comes to the plate?? Saddest man ever.
  


• As always, the seventh inning stretch.
  

Friday morning featured breakfast with the parents at Huckleberry. For those in the LA area, for those who want to support Windward alum Zoe Nathan, for those who simply appreciate frickin' amazing pastries... GO! You'll enjoy. (And for a lovely dinner, I hear that Rustic Canyon, the sister establishment right down the street, is mighty good as well.)

And then: the weekend, the main event, la raison d'etre for this whole trip... it commenced.

Jack, Dave and I met up at Jack's house. Eager to leave but forced to wait for Jack's clothes to dry, Dave suggested we simply put Jack's underwear over his car's antenna and let them air dry on the way up. Problem solved!

We headed north. And we sang some songs of merriment:

We stopped for some Coffee Bean. Fan-frickin-tastic.

And within a few hours, we were in the lovely and supremely random town of Solvang. Why supremely random? Well, imagine a town from Denmark that's been dropped right into the middle of wine country in California. That's Solvang. Granted, its inhabitants aren't actually Danish, but still. Everything about the town, from the architecture to the food to the spirit, is Danish.

We promptly checked into our hotel, the Kronborg Inn, which we chose pretty much solely because of its name. I mean, it's called the Kronborg Inn! Come on!!!

As we got settled in the hotel, Jack thought it would be a great idea to pitch his new tent, which he had brought for the next night, in the hotel room. Dave and I were bewildered, of course, and we did everything in our power to make Jack's task as difficult as possible.

Eventually, Jack figured it out.

Before the night's main event, the three of us met up with Mike and Erika, who were conveniently staying in the hotel right next door, to get an early dinner at the Hitching Post, a steak house that you may remember from Sideways. I ordered the filet mignon. Now, I'm normally not one for hyperbole; in fact, I consciously avoid it as much as possible. But that very well may have been the best steak I've ever had. Perfectly cooked, unbelievably tender, mouth-watering seasoning. I was in heaven. Unfortunately, pretty much everything else in my meal -- clam chowder, French fries (the waitress swore they were mind-blowing), salad -- left something to be desired. But the steak... my LORD.

And then, the reason we came up north a day early: CHUMASH!!!! Set on an Indian reservation, Chumash Casino has become a bit of an institution with my friends. First lured by the 18-year-old minimum age, we've been going ever since we finished high school and have returned whenever possible. Opportunities to do so, however, have significantly decreased in the last few years, as the original core group has scattered at various times to New York, Washington, Toronto, Kyoto and Sydney. But this weekend presented us with the perfect storm, and we resolved to go for it.

We were excited. Pumped. Amped. Thrilled. Ecstatic. We let out a jubilant cry as we approached the lights of Chumash. We hit the casino floor and took over a blackjack table. And then, well... and then... let's just say that on this night, the casino had its way with us, as casinos sometimes do. And by 11pm, we all found ourselves back at the Kronborg. Beaten down, but comforted by the fact that we were staying at a place called the Kronborg Inn, we slept.

We awoke the next morning refreshed and reenergized. First stop: Paula's Pancake House, which was seemingly the only restaurant in town with customers. And those Danish pancakes absolutely did not disappoint, with Jack proclaiming them as possibly the best pancakes he's ever had. I can't make such a proclamation, with the banana and walnut pancakes from Clinton Street Baking Company in New York and my dad's matzah meal pancakes firmly entrenched in some order in my personal top two. But still, they were damned good.

Next stop was Los Olivos, as we killed some time before the wedding. Enjoying some wine and beer at Los Olivos Café, we just chilled. In retrospect, apart from the actual wedding, this may have been my favorite part of the whole trip. Three old friends, having some leisurely drinks, soaking in the beautiful weather, just chatting.

And then, to the wedding! But before we made it up the mountain to the farmhouse, we encountered some cows. They had been enjoying a nice, warm day under a tree. That all changed upon our arrival:

After we bored of harassing the cows, we made our way to the top of the mountain. And, my lord, what a location Hannah and Benny picked out. Here's the setting for their marriage:

And here's the farmhouse:

The whole day and night was amazing. The wedding itself was gorgeous, without a cloud in the sky. The dinner, with fried chicken and mac and cheese and mashed potatoes, was scrumptious. The reception got a little wild. Jack managed to climb up onto a beam 15 feet above the farmhouse. I was pantsed during an impromptu game of Twister. People were devouring challah dipped in Hannah's homemade fudge. And sometime in there, I called it quits.

The next morning, I was awoken to a lovely hangover and the crows of the ostriches that are kept on the farmhouse. Ever since my trip to Mission Beach, I've been terrified of large, flightless birds. So sleeping no more than 100 feet away from those beasts did not make for the most pleasant of experiences.

Before heading back off to LA, we said our goodbyes to Hannah, Benny et al.

Had half a dozen friends over to my parents' place on Sunday night; another non-wedding highlight of the trip. So good to spend some quality time with everyone in a relatively intimate setting. And along with some of my mom's amazing mushroom and barley soup and Moroccan chickpea soup, we enjoyed more breads and pastries from Huckleberry. Good stuff.

On Monday, before the beast of a flight back to Sydney, I made an obligatory stop at In N Out. Sooooooo good.

And there's the trip! From start to wedding to finish, it was perfect; I couldn't be more pleased.

Now it's back to reality. And I'll tackle that issue next.

Sadly, Kevin Smith is desperately clinging to relevancy

I have a soft spot in my heart for Kevin Smith. Chasing Amy stands as one of my all-time favorite movies. I've watched Dogma at least ten times, yet somehow, it gets better upon each additional viewing. And while others worship Clerks and Mallrats much more than I do, they're still very much near and dear to my heart.

Then Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back happened. In the lead-up to the film's release, during sophomore year of college, I couldn't contain my excitement and followed all reports coming out of its production. My expectations were sky high, and even in hindsight, I don't think that they were unrealistic. In LA, I went to see it with Dave. We entered the movie giddy. We left convinced that we had just witnessed the biggest pile of dog crap ever.

Then Jersey Girl happened. If you think I got anywhere near that movie, then you really don't know me.

And since then -- with a debatable detour for Clerks II and possibly Zack and Miri Make a Porno (I haven't seen it yet) -- it seems as though Kevin has given up on actual film making and has instead focused all of his energy on simply staying in the news, however possible.

The latest case in point? Kevin's Twitter feed. Here's what he wrote sometime early (very early) Sunday morning:

Can't sleep. Blazed. Now horny. Do I wake wife or quietly tug one out to pics of wife's vag instead? Mind you: I'm smoke-dopey, so no prize.

Right. Okay. Yikes. Normally I'd let something like this go. But there's more! Because just in case that didn't creep you out enough, here's his follow-up tweet, just a few minutes later:

I'm not the "wake her" kinda guy. But also can't tug one out now, 'cause ya'll will know, and I'll feel like everyone's watching me do it.

Kev, I love you. But please, for the love of all that's holy, there are better ways to stay relevant than going for shock value. Such as, say, making good movies? Let's stick to that.

I am a jet lag slayer!

Been in LA for just over 48 hours now. It's been constant action, doing one thing or another.

Had a nice flight. Left Sydney at 9pm Tuesday, watched three movies (Quantum of Solace, W and The Rocker) and some TV shows, played some blackjack and poker to brush up on my big excursion tomorrow, and landed in LA at 5pm Tuesday. Love that you arrive before you leave! Went home. Had a nice dinner with the parents. Crashed at 10pm.

Woke up Wednesday morning at 9am feeling great. Screw you, jet lag!!! Filed my taxes, took care of a few other things, then had lunch with Benihana at a Mexican restaurant. REAL MEXICAN FOOD!!! Love it. Oh, and yeah, it was great to see Benihana on my own, especially before they descend into madness with the wedding this weekend. Then I did a couple more things around the city, went back home and had another nice dinner with the 'rents.

Woke up Thursday morning, felt great again. I own you, jet lag!! Took care of a few things around the house. Got lunch with Vern in Venice. Met up with Dave and got a coffee at Huckleberry. Hit up Angels-Dodgers at Dodger Stadium! First time at Dodger Stadium in a long time. So long, in fact, that I'm not even sure when I was last there. So it was good. The Dodger Dog was good. And the Dodgers won. Who cares if it's only Spring Training?

Saturday is the wedding. I'm excited. But first, tomorrow is Kronmash! Or Chuborg, if you prefer. I know this means nothing to all but two people in the world -- for now, let's just say that there's a very close relation to me brushing up on my blackjack and poker on the flight -- but it's late and I need to go to sleep. Just because I've slayed jet lag doesn't mean that I don't have to sleep at all! So full explanation and recap to come next week.

Thank you, Sir Richard

Starting 17 days ago and extending all the way through to April 8, Richard Branson has, and will be, a consistent presence in my life.

First, Sam and Sarah arrived in Sydney on March 14. And as Team ASS (Andy, Sarah, Sam) went from Sydney to Hunter Valley to Port Macquarie and back to Sydney, we adopted our slogan for the trip, Screw it, let's do it!, which was taken from the Richard Branson autobiography of the same name* that Sam was reading.

*Amazingly, Branson has written a total of THREE autobiographies. If there were three biographies of him -- hell, if there were THIRTY biographies of him -- that would be fine. Because those would all have different takes on the man, all written by different people. But no. Sir Richard has three autobiographies, all (presumably) written by himself.

Then Robert arrived 11 days ago to form Team RASS (Robert, Andy, Sarah, Sam). And we took the use of Screw it, let's do it! up to a whole new level, as it became the rallying cry for anything for which we were on the fence.

Should we jump into the cold ocean water? Screw it, let's do it!

Should we do a two-hour, hilly cliff walk even though we're ridiculously hungover? Screw it, let's do it!

Should we eat the lamb's brain from the Indonesian restaurant? Screw it, let's do it!

And so on and so forth.

Sam, Sarah and Robert have unfortunately all left. But Richard Branson? He's still lingering. For this past Saturday, V Festival -- as in Virgin Festival -- a musical festival headlined by The Killers, Snow Patrol, Kaiser Chiefs and, randomly, Madness and Vanilla Ice, took place about five minutes from my apartment. I didn't go, but many of my friends did and I could hear it from my place.

And to top it off, come 9pm today, when I fly to LA for Benihana's wedding, I will fly on V Australia -- as in Virgin Australia.

The man is omnipresent in my life right now. His motivation did Team RASS right, and I'm hoping that he'll do me equally right as I go to and from LA.