I went to my absolute favorite pub on the planet yesterday, the Lamb and Flag, to have a pint before heading off to dinner.

They were out of Young’s Special ale so I had to settle for a pint of Courage, a bitter ale. Not having much experience drinking bitter ale, I assumed the slight vinegar smell of the beer was normal. It didn’t taste bad but neither was it impressive.

About an hour after drinking the beer, on my way to Brick Lane for some Indian food, I got a sharp pain in my bowels that hinted of horrors to come. About three minutes after sitting down in the restaurant, I realized I wasn’t going to make it through dinner without getting sick, so I got up before I was even served and hit the nearest underground station, hoping I’d make it back to the hotel before exploding in a mushroom cloud of stench and excrement.

I made it two stops before breaking out in a cold sweat. The kind you have to mop up with your shirt sleeve. By the third stop, with three stops still to go, I bailed entirely just to get fresh air and save the other riders the expense of seeing half-digested soba noodles rocket out of my mouth while my head spun 360 degrees.

Fresh air did the trick and I was able to get back on the tube and make it to the hotel just in time to experience what it feels like to expel one of Rippley’s Aliens. I have never in my life experienced such toilet terror. I’m not sure what was more disgusting; the sound or the smell. Either way it lasted most of the night. All day today I’ve been nursing my bowels back to a point where I can maintain hydration.

Sucks to have to spend the holiday counting quarts of water in versus trips to the bathroom…

woe is me.

I just finished four days in New York, supporting a partner meeting there. The best part of it was that I got to stay in the same hotel and travel just like them, which means first-class flights, livery transportation to and from the airport, multi-course meals, etc, etc.

It was fun to have four days of expensive wine, fois gras (yeah, screw PC, the shit is good) and a hotel suite with power-drawn curtains and two flat-panel TV’s. But the downside is I had little time to blog so I’ll get back in the swing of things very shortly and get back to my erratic posting.

I was in the fifth grade (the first time, not the second). The whole school published a weekly newspaper that was by the students, for the students. The fourth grade had a paragraph or two about their favorite hop-scotch game, the third grade had a bit about their class’s pet spider, etc, etc. (more…)

RSA was a blur of Gold room 303, Green room 102, Orange room whatever…

I flew back to Chicago early last night to beat the winter storm that is now lashing Chicago with 40 mph wind gusts and an expected 3 – 6 inches of snow. I’m not sure which is causing my fuzzy head more, the fact that I got home at 2:30 am or the fact that I went from a sunny 55 degree environment to a windy 2 degree environment.

It’s snowing sideways. I want to go home and have some vietnamese noodle soup, a hot shower, and a warm bed. In that order.

I landed in San Francisco this morning and was pleasantly greeted by 50 degree weather. Not bad considering when I left Chicago it was a balmy 6, without considering wind-chill.

I’ve forgotten how laid back everyone is here. I’ve also forgotten what fresh, fresh sushi tastes like. You just can’t get truly fresh sushi in Chicago, for cheap anyway.

I’m staying in a nice hotel (thanks to my company) that is less than a mile from Moscone Center. There are also several coffee shops nearby I plan to explore. Yes, I’m a fourbucks whore, but mainly because of convenience and consistency; there’s one on every frickin’ corner and my drink is made the same wherever I go. I do appreciate tasty coffee but don’t have the time to walk three blocks to get to Intelligentsia in Chicago (great coffee, I do at least buy their beans for home-brewing).

I’m still not finished planning out all the events I want to visit at RSA…