11 months

I left my job in LA on 24 May, and will start my new job on 28 April. In 11 months I could have written a book, travelled the world, lost 30 pounds, learned to play the guitar, gotten a teaching certification, learned Italian, taken an art class, given 4 pints of blood, started my own business, or taken a minimum wage job and earned £10,000. Instead, I spent at least 1,000 hours looking for a job.

When I first arrived in London, I was confident I'd find a job quickly, so I posted my CV on the job boards and waited for recruiters to call. And call they did--I have seven interviews in the first two months, but I was so cocky that I was being very selective, and they could tell. (Feedback from one of my interviews was that I did not seem to be the type of person who would "pitch in and contribute as needed.") Then in August the credit crunch hit and I didn't get a single phone call the entire month. I re-evaluated my options, and considered taking a minimum wage job, but decided I would be better off working full-time finding a programming position. Thus began the process that, five months later, would result in severe depression and a near breakdown.

Of course, at the time, I thought the credit crunch was a blip on the financial radar, not the start of a global depression. So each morning would begin with perusing the job boards -- of which there are many -- and applying to various openings. (In the beginning, I was quite selective, but near the end I was applying to just about everything, with equal results.) In six hours I could go through a hundred listings, of which five might be appropriate, and I was lucky if one person called me back. Usually I never heard back from anyone. I had only six interviews over the next seven months, and most of those were not a result of my applying to positions, but of recruiters finding my CV online. Occasionally, friends would give me contacts in London, only to find their company was in the process of layoffs, or they had just been laid off themselves. (This actually happened five times, and I was afraid to call anyone else.)

It was frustrating, depressing, degrading, and although I kept telling myself it wasn't my fault, the constant clutch of failure was oppressive and inescapable. If I took any time off to do something fun, I criticized myself for not working harder on finding a job. Much of the frustration, of course, was the amorphous nature of the task: Although the goal was clear enough, I had no idea what steps, or timing, or circumstances were necessary. As I result, I probably worked harder finding a job than I've ever worked at a job. (And it was unpaid.)

In February, I got a call from the most annoying recruiter I've ever met. While I appreciated his diligence -- which was in marked contrast to most of the recuiters I'd dealt with -- he would call me two or three times a day just to let me know he had no updates. That first call, however, while on a tube to Ruislip to check out a flat, he told me about a small consulting firm building database systems for utility companies (which weren't affected by the depression). He set up a two-hour phone interview with the company just before I left for Israel.

Of course, in Israel I had my little melt-down, and upon returning to the UK I recognized I could not continue as I had been. I stopped looking for a programming job and first focused on finding a place to live, then started looking for a retail job. Of course, if I thought being rejected from a highly-paid, highly-skilled position was bad, you can imagine my horror to find I wasn't even qualified for unskilled labor! I shouldn't have been surprised -- unemployment was at a 20-year high, and in some areas there were 30 people for every open position -- but it was still rough. It was an employers market and they were being very picky, looking for people with previous retail experience, or their own car, or a full driver's license (I still only have my learner's permit). I couldn't be a cashier, a waiter, a mini-cab driver, a cook, a security guard, a meter maid, or a pizza delivery driver!

Then, in an unrelated (and unexpected) turn of events, the owner of the B&B I had stayed at fired the front office clerk and offered me his job! I eagerly accepted the offer -- after all, I had no prospects other than this one company I talked to six weeks ago, and even though I got daily calls from this annoying recruiter, he didn't have any updates. I was scheduled to start 7 May.

The consulting company finally called me in for a face-to-face interview with the three directors who started the company. It turned out the company was only 8 people, and they were scattered across the UK and did most of their work from home, which was why it took them so long to schedule the interview. I was expecting a decision after the interview, but instead they asked me back for a third interview, which they couldn't schedule for another week.

By now I'd spent six hours interviewing with them, and about 22 hours talking to the recruiter, who was driving me insane. (I tried not taking his calls -- sending them straight to voicemail -- but then I just got 10 voicemails, plus a couple of texts, asking me to call him back.) When they finally offered me the position, I took it with no negotiation whatsoever. The salary is fine, and I certainly can't complain about the commute since I'll be working from home 3-4 days per week. I don't know about the other benefits, but I get 20 vacation days per year plus 10 bank holidays.

Oh, and the company name is "datb," which actually stands for "Day At The Beach." You can check out their website at datb.com, although if you can understand it then you're probably qualified to work there. (It begins with, "datb offers a real alternative to the business constraints imposed by off-the-shelf packages and lengthy, expensive and risk-laden bespoke development.")

And as for the B&B, the owner wasn't surprised -- she said six months ago that as soon as she offered me a job, that's when I'd find work. It turns out she was right.

P.S. Thanks again for everyone's support and encouragement through this ordeal, especially to my similarly-situated friends who commiserated with me. (See? There is hope!) Many thanks to Luci at the Merlyn Court B&B, who always looked out for me, and of course my eternal gratitude to Jessica, who has dealt with so much in such a short period, and believed in me the entire time. It is with no small amount of irony that I got the job on her birthday!

I am...

employed.

4 more days...

A week ago I was wheeling a TV around town in a suitcase, so it shouldn't surprise you to learn that the next day I carried a barbecue two miles across town.
It looked shorter on the map.
The guy who gave it to me was moving back to Texas, and he gave me very specific instructions on how to smoke meats and grill steaks. I just let him talk, figuring if he knew I was vegetarian, he wouldn't let me have the barbecue. But I've already got a bag of charcoal and I'll be grilling asparagus, corn, veggie kabobs, and mangoes on my little patio this summer. :-)
What else have I done this week:

• I planted four tomato plants that I got from a neighbor. I am also going to plant some ivy in large pots (to try and cover the wooden fence), a few herbs, and maybe a deck chair. (The fence isn't strong enough for a hammock.)
  
• I stained and varnished the TV stand as Jessica suggested, and it now looks like a piece of furniture instead of Ikea junk.
  
• I went to a Passover dinner (Seder) with another 20 or so of Jessica's family. (This is on top of the 40 I met in Israel.) It was like Thanksgiving except with some reading, a few rituals, and followed by singing (mostly in Hebrew, plus Bohemian Rhapsody).
  
• On Good Friday I took Jessica to hear "Messiah" at the Royal Albert Hall. (Interestingly, it's tradition here to stand during the "Hallelujah Chorus," apparently started by King George II.)
  
• I watched the "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas," which was just unflinching in its story of the holocaust. Highly recommended.
  
• I went to three yoga classes. (I planned on going to six, but I caught a cold and was just miserable for several days. Some of the classes are not much more than "stretching for seniors," but a few are quite challenging.)
  
• I bought tickets to see Chris Barber's jazz band next month. My uncle told me how he had invited the band back to his house after a gig one night, some 50 years ago, so I googled them and found they were still touring! (I also planned to see Dave Brubeck at the Barbican in June, but unfortunately he withdrew for health reasons.)

And a few things coming up:

• I am (hopefully) going to hook up with a new tennis partner next Sunday. (My old tennis partner got a job. How rude was that?)
  
• I should recieve my bike lock tomorrow, so I can go riding. (And you do want to watch this video all the way to the end.)
  
• I should also get my ZipCar membership card, so I can go driving again. (I'd looked them up when I first got here--because I'd been a member in Los Angeles--but they wanted £50 to join! Now you can join for £25 and get £25 in driving credit, so its effectively free.)
  
• I was going to see Lord of the Rings with live musical accompaniment (by the London Philharmonic Orchestra!) at Royal Albert Hall, but it's standing room only and the movie is 3 hours long.
  
• I'm getting cable TV + broadband in 4 days. In 5 days I'll be complaining there's nothing on TV.
  
• The British Film Institute is doing a James Bond program on IMAX, including an all-nighter with 4 movies starting at 11:30pm. (It costs £26, too rich for my blood-shot eyes.)
  
• Saturday is the "Incredible Veggie Show" and Sunday is Shakespeare's 444th birthday.
  
• I'm having lunch with Sue, whose flat I rented while she was in Africa. (Apparently she sold the flat just after I moved out!)
  
• Jessica's birthday is also coming up, and in spite of my fear of heights I've offered to take her to Go Ape.
  
• I have an interview tomorrow with a small consulting firm. Wish me luck.

Hope everyone had a good Easter. (And in case you ever wondered, Easter is the first Sunday at least 13 days after the first new moon after the vernal equinox, and it has absolutely everything to do with Passover.)

On your bike

Getting a bicycle has been on my to-do list since I arrived in London, but I put it off for various reasons--mostly because I wanted a folding bike which cost £600. This morning, as part of my "putting down roots" campaign, I finally picked up a used mountain bike just to ride around the bicycle trails in Ealing park. (Only an idiot would ride on London streets.)

Except, to get the bike home, I had to ride on London streets. Worse, I had to go straight to the gym for a yoga class, so I had my yoga mat and workout clothes in a bag slung over my shoulder. And I haven't ridden a bicycle in three years. Needless to say, it may have been the scariest 20 minutes of my life, and my yoga mat fell out three times, unrolling itself into the middle of the street each time. Did I mention the yoga mat is bright purple? When I bought it (in LA) the gym lady assured me it wouldn't stand out at all. Well, it stood out alright. I finally lashed it onto my back like a sword; I'm sure the locals thought gay liberation had finally come to Ealing.

Then I realized I would need a bicycle lock when I got to the gym. I could have stopped at a store and gotten a cheap lock, but what do you do with your bike when you're buying a bicycle lock? It would be embarrassing to have owned a bike less than an hour before it was stolen...twice. (The first time I was only 12, and I'd like to think I am a little smarter now.) But it didn't matter because I had a brilliant idea: I could use the lock I had for my laptop! Now, if you're familiar with computer locks, you'll immediately recognize the fallacy in this plan, but it wasn't until I was at the gym did I realize that the computer cable just slips through a loop and then plugs into the laptop. With nothing to plug into, effectively all I was doing was tying the cable around the bike like a piece of rope, and hoping a thief didn't notice. But again, it didn't matter because by this time I was too late to join the class, so I just came home. (I ended up ordering a lock over the Internet which cost as much as the bike itself! However, London has a very high theft rate, so a cheap lock is just an invitation to steal, and I figure the inconvenience of losing my bike while away from home would be much worse than just the financial loss.)

In the afternoon, I went to a "drop-in" tennis class at the park, except I was the only one who dropped in. I asked someone and he told me they hadn't done that in two years, and I must have been looking at an old web site. (I was.) He said they'll have classes on Friday if he can get at least four people signed up, but including me I think he only had two people, so I'm not holding my breath. There's another tennis school nearby that has drill sessions on Sunday, but they are expensive (£12 for non-members!) so I'm thinking about going there once just to see if I can find someone who will play me on the free courts.

So that was the normal part of my day.

I mentioned in my last email that getting broadband + phone line + cable TV was cheaper than broadband by itself, but neither would do me much good because I didn't have a phone or TV. I found a cheap, second hand TV on gumtree (the UK equivalent to craigslist) that was just a short bus ride away. Of course it wasn't a flatscreen, but it was only 21" and I figured I could carry it to/from the bus. However, no doubt because I haven't been to the gym in two months, I could barely lift it. The seller offered me a large rolling suitcase that he was getting rid of, which he taped shut, tied off with a yellow LAN cable, and then wrapped two wire coat hangers around. It looked like something out of Sanford and Son, but it worked, and I rolled the TV a mile back to my place. (See attached photo.)

The TV is still in the suitcase, however, as Jessica suggested I stain the TV stand a darker color. I'm also going to see if I can string up a hammock in my little patio space.

P.S. "On your bike" is the British equivalent of "get lost" or "take a hike."

Comfort food

My brother was in LA this week, taking his kids to some of the places our dad took us. You have to understand two things about my dad, though: He didn't have any money, and he loved to drive.  As a result, we used to go all over for cheap food..  Of course, this is now comfort food to me, even as I would never go back to most of these places.

 

(Before it got trendy, when it was attached to a bowling alley)

Of course, there were many places that I don't even remember the name, and could never hope to find pictures of.  He kept a large crock pot in the car, and would often pick up egg drop soup on his way home.  Near his work was a Mexican stand that made the best taquitos.  And near church was a home improvement store that we would invariably stop at every Sunday, and the only thing that made it tolerable was the hot dog stand outside.  I can remember waiting in the car, listening to Chuck Cecil on KFI playing "The Swinging Years."  I hated it then, but of course I love it now.  (And amazingly, 30 years on, Chuck Cecil is still at it.)

My dad also loved The Magic Cork in Bellflower, which was a 90 mile round-trip from our house, but the food was incredibly cheap, and quite good. (I remember a sign on the table that said, "Our steaks have gristle.") He would also drive to Redondo Beach Pier for a $10 lobster dinner that my brother and I would share, and he introduced me to shawarmas, which I thought were the greatest food on earth.

Of course, there were some places my parents liked that I was not a fan of...

I was never a fan of Tommy's or In-n-Out. The Pantry, downtown, is also disgusting. I guess if I have any regrets, it's not visiting Roscoe's Chicken 'N Waffles before I went vegetarian, as that place is legendary.

Ironically, Philippes is where I went vegetarian, back in 2002 or so.  I had (accidentally on purpose) not eaten meat in about six months, but had no intention of going vegetarian, and was quite looking forward to a lamb sandwich covered in mustard.  One bite, though, and I realized I no longer had any interest in meat, and haven't touched it since.

Thanks to "LA Time Machine" for several of these photos, and lots of memories.