First Impressions...

So I will relate you to the events of the previous 15 hours, or if you include the time zones... the last 23 hours.

I have not slept for the majority of those hours which is why, at 10 o'clock Bristol time, I have returned to my room, to scribe and to sleep.

I guess I'll start with the flight. It was pretty uneventful. I don't really remember the flight from Seattle. I remember having my marlinspike taken from me. Yeah, I guess it's understandable to not let on a 10 inch piece of pointed steel. My bad. But after that things went smooth.

I arrived in Newark on time and I have to say my very first impression was that of Awe. I don't know why, it wasn't that spectacular. But there was an immense amount of diversity wandering about there. There were flights going to all over the world, Bristol and Delhi were next to each other.

The very first place I went, as if there were some magnetic force pulling me to it, was Starbucks. I didn't even know where it was in the airport but somehow I found it. I felt quite distinctly, that I was in a new and different place when I entered the airport, but stepping into that Starbucks was like going back home. The aroma, the colors, the mugs... I was back in Seattle. I couldn't stay long because of my flight, but I took my coffee back and sipped it while I waited for my flight.

The flight to Bristol was even longer and more uneventful. There was a small child behind me that sneezed on me and the man in front of me who got irritated by my putting things in the back pouch of his chair. I could only imagine my books were, in some way, poking or jabbing him. He would pull forward suddenly and slam back into the chair. Be bitter, see if I care.

It was hard to sleep on the plane, I was in the aisle this time and that means nothing to rest your head against. My 8 pound skull slumped onto my chest and there it would rest until my neck muscles would scream in agony. Coupled with my unconscious clenching teeth, which caused my teeth to wiggle hours after the flight, made the flight that much worse. I tried everything to get comfortable. It was no use.

Finally we arrived.

I have a new found respect for the RAF (Royal Air Force). I couldn't even see the ground before our wheels were upon it. Before our decent, the captain flicked on the load speaker and casually stated that on the ground was overcast. By far one of the biggest over statements I've heard to date, when we hit the ground I couldn't see but four feet in front of me; the fog was just that thick.

I let my mind drift as we waited to exit the plane. Imagine, the great war, the war to end all wars, WWII I'm talking about. Imagine the pilots, manning what today is considered a primitive machine, leading the way in aeronautics and piloting. These men, without radar, had to land their planes in almost the exact same conditions! How would they even know where they were! Hats off to the pilots of WWII.

When I snapped back I was waiting in line to get through customs. I have to say that getting through customs was so very anticlimactic. After getting every conceivable piece of paperwork that they might need, all it took was my passport and a little white card they handed out on the plane.

I passed into the UK. Now all I had to do was collect my things. I was highly skeptical about that process. I wasn't sure my bags were going to make it, but before too long I saw it gently rolling towards me; my guitar had made it to England in tact and unscathed. My bag was right behind it and soon I was out the door. I met a very nice guy named charlie who was from the international programme at Bristol. He got me a cab which I shared with a nice gal from North Carolina.

I only caught about half of what the american gal was saying because I was so preoccupied with my surroundings. While still foggy, it had dissipated some; enough for me to marvel at Bristol.

The landscape isn't that dissimilar from Seattle's; a lot less evergreens, but there definitely is green everywhere. As for the weather, well my first day was foggy and rainy, then there was a spot of sun, then it rained again. All in all, it's weather I'm used to. But it was the man made structures that impressed me the most.

Driving into Bristol one of the first things I noticed was a Bridge, the Bristol Bridge I believe. I need to go back; it's apparently very old but very elegant. Then the houses. All the houses are packed in next to each other and they too look very old. Old style houses; heavy wood frames and plaster walls. The streets, in many areas, were cobblestone and the walls were conglomerates of many rocks of varying sizes and shapes. Unlike Seattle, buildings built in the last 20 years stand proudly next to building that have been here for 500. I love that.

Well, I can't say my dorm is too impressive from the outside, or the inside. But it's a room and I wish to spend as little time in it as possible. There are a slurry of things to do around the city as well as around the country, so I feel that this is more my base of operations. The people here are very nice, but I'll need to meet many more of them before I make any solid conclusions.

I spent most of my first day trying to track down a power converter. That was a chore. I must have gone in and out of my dorm 10 times that day. Forgot my map, went to the wrong store, found the store but got the wrong plug, went back to the store got my plug. Went to the bank, went to get some food, went out to the pubs. It was a good, albeit hectic day.

I did get settled in, which was easy as I have only the essentials. After all was set up, I went out and thats when I got a lot more first impressions about the people of England.

My observations of the women here are that they are very happy go lucky, at least the ones I've been around. As I was unpacking I could hear them going on about getting so trashed this one time, or this amazing bar another time. And they have a particular style about them. Tapered jeans hold their legs skin tight right down to the ankle, which is covered up by enormous boots. Boots that range from say Eskimo boots with fur at the top, or leg hugging black leather boots that shoot halfway up the halves. Most, I'd say, wear high heels although I met an amazing gal who didn't fit the mold I just described in anyway.

Her name is Meriel. Like Ariel from the little mermaid with an M at the start. She hates that though so don't make that reference ok!? Anyhow, I was sitting in a Starbucks trying reading Moby Dick when I saw this lady out of the corner of my eye. Well, not having my glasses on, I knew I wouldn't be able to see her, but I looked anyway. I'm pretty sure sure and I made eye contact, and I gave a small smile and nod, then went back to reading my book. She came and sat down across from me.

I would steal glances from my book and saw that she was journaling as well. I looked for some way to start a conversation and English tea was the solution; well at that time to me it looked like she was making a chai or something. Apparently the english put milk in their tea. I asked her what she was drinking and she told me it was tea. "chai tea" I inquired. "No, regular tea" she replied. This went on for quite some time as i couldn't grasp the concept of milk and tea nor, i think, could she grasp that I wouldn't understand that it was just milk and tea.

It was a good way to start a conversation.

Turns out she goes to the Uni of Bristol as well, though she is only 20 it is her last year here. She has an amazing laugh, and laughs a lot. She's studying drama, and she's originally from Ireland. We talked of all things, from schooling, our pasts, the greek system, books, hand writing, american coinage... and the time flew by. She had to go.

Enter the sacred time when a man is supposed to get the womans number. Well, I like to change things up a bit. I usually give my number and if the lady is interested, then she has my number. However, the woman usually reciprocates with a number of her own. Leaving that tangent, the moral of this story is the number! I don't have a number over here! Shoot.

Well, I struggled for a moment but I managed to give her one of my millions of email addresses. She gave me her number and email. We've been in contact since, but I'm hoping for more.

Anyhow, I was talking about observations and I have only a few more for now. One is that half of Bristol seems to be shacked up; Truly, the amount of couples here is astonishing. Another is that men wear a lot more collared shirts, that's for sure, but t-shirts are still fairly abundant. Another is that I can't order my coffee drinks in Oz, that was odd to me. Lastly, the women here are much more full figured then those from the states. I'm not saying it's bad, it's just different, and I would attribute it much to the lives the lead. Going to bars and clubs so often, minimal exercise. Don't get me wrong, the folks in Britain who are in shape, are in great shape. But the rest of the populace doesn't seem to care so much.

My night after my conversation with Meriel was a bit of drinking, meeting new people, and falling to sleep promptly at 10. I met a bunch of folks from my dorm, not many of which i remember (due to a bad memory not drinking thank you!), then I went out to a bar called the Bristol Ram, which was so amazing. I met some exchange students there and watched the Scottish Rugby team beat on the Italian team. I chatted with a random man from Bristol about the differences between american football and rugby, which seems to be a popular question as I was asked about it twice in the same night. And I bought my first pint and shot in a pub. Their shots are wimpy but their beer is good. I got a fosters, I thought i should start there and work my way down, I'll try the others later but I have 4 months to do so.

A shot here is 2.5 pounds, so about 5 bucks. A pint is 2.95 or something like that, maybe 3 pounds. So, I know that this is what the folks do here, but I need to keep in mind how much i'm spending. Alcohol could add up to a lot.

Anyway, that was my night, after the Bristol Ram I made it back fine, I really wasn't drunk just happy. I curled up in my new bed and fell fast to sleep. I have to say that I heard people until about 3 in the morning and a small part of me wanted to go join them but I need to make more friends first, and i'm sure times like that will come.

Off to Breakfast! It's 11:30 here. Love you all.
Z

The Good Ship Adventuress

My time aboard the Good Ship Adventuress is over... for now! I'll be back mark my words. I miss it dearly. I can't say thanks enough to the people that have helped me seize this opportunity, I cannot express how deeply I love the crew who I've come to know so well, and I wish I could describe how much I'm attached to the ship itself. Hopefully I can look back on my journaling and write some interesting blogs but at the moment, things are getting crazy.

My first problem is the passport. I turned in my application months ago but I recently received an email telling me it was going to be voided because there were two names on the form. That is not the first time this has happened, I seem to remember weeks and weeks of phone tag with the UW Admissions sorting out the exact same problem. We've taken the steps to sort it out, I can only hope it'll be here within the week.

The second problem is housing at Bristol. They sent me an email accepting me to housing, that was about two weeks ago. The due date was the 20th. I read it for the first time this morning. Yikes. I sent two emails and made an international phone call with no success. I have to call between 1 in the morning to about 6 in the morning to be able to catch the working hours over there. Yikes again. That'll be happening tomorrow morning.

The third problem is that I have all these ideas and knowledge still floating around that need writing. How to haul back the anchor, how to lower, drive, and haul in Jefe (our small boat), gifts I want to get for some of the crew, fancywork that I want to work on (like decorating my mug, making a ditty bag, and a knife/spike sheath). I need to get them on paper before I lose the ideas.

Fourth. I have to see Teddy before he leaves today. I have to go to my step brothers birthday on the mainland. Riley's birthday was two days ago so I have to congratulate him for that, I have to call Devin and see that guy, Nicole was calling wanting to come to the island today, I need to get tickets to bumbershoot still but I have no money... etc. and where am I going to find the time to do all this, and still accomplish the other three problems above!?

Lucky for me I wake up at 7 these days. Thanks to the Good Ship.

I'm not stressing about it. Take it as it comes, it'll work out. More later,
Z

Popemobile...

The pope recently issued a document saying that the Catholic church was the "one true church" and that all others have fallen from the path or are just wrong.

Stupid Pope.

I'm not going to say much about it but I think that the further we move from acceptance, compromise, tolerance, etc, is backwards progress. I am a baptized catholic and that's about it, but there are still some things I appreciate about the Catholic church and I still hope for it to come around and join the rest of us. That doesn't seem to be going well.

Z

In Response To: Virtual Virtuoso

Devin had a phenomenal observation! And the way the post was articulated was so fluid. I really enjoyed it. I think that the kind of people he's talking about, people that can invigorate those around them, are the people that create change in the world. That doesn't necessarily mean big change, but change none the less.

Like Devin, I'd like to be one of those people as well. I've always imagined and verbalized to Devin my desire to "lead men", be it in a hypothetical if-I-had-to-join-the-army situation, to dreaming about my own construction company, being a professor, or a mayor in the distant future. Dreams are what they are, but always dreams about working with those around me; cultivating ideas with others, and leading my group from the inception of those ideas to the implementation and conclusion of our project.

I want to be a leader. I want to be really good at what I do. The time now is for me. I'm learning, learning from my friends, learning from my family, learning from my teachers, and peers, and the world around me. I'm learning to earn respect, I'm learning to follow through, I'm learning to finish what I start, I'm learning about confidence, decision making, and collaboration. I'm learning about the essentials to being a powerful force; integrity, trust, determination, Love, chivalry, charisma... the list goes on. These are things I have, things I work on, things I want. These are the things that will help me through life, these are the things that help me to work with and lead others to success.

I want to be the guy that when people see him, they know that I'm good at what I do, that I have the respect of my men. I want to give opportunities to the unfortunate, do quality work for clients, be the best friend possible, earn the trust of the untrusting, love stronger than i've ever loved, be the dad i've always dreamed of. I want to be a good person, I want to make my dreams come true; I need the help of those around me to develop the skills to do that. I hope that when I have those skills, I will be able to impart them onto many more people than it took for me to learn.

I want to lead. Leaders should be the exemplars of those around us. So I must become the best person possible.

Z

The Good Fairies of New York

Read it.

I can't really describe it; nothing I could say would do it justice. However, I will say that Martin Millers book was an incredibly fun read, quick, packed full of outrageous characters, a very entangled plot line, and a great deal of Scottish culture (as the two main fairies are Scottish) and Greek history (as the author loves Greek history)

Here's a description from the introduction. Unoriginal... I know.

"Millar writes like Kurt Vonnegut might have written, if he'd been born fifty years later in a different country and hung around with entirely the wrong sort of people... The Good Fairies of New York is a story that starts when Morag and Heather, two eighteen-inch fairies with swords and green kilts and badly-dyed hair fly through the window of the worst violinist in New York, an overweight and antisocial type named Dinnie, and vomit on his carpet...It has a war in it, and a most unusual production of Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and Johnny Thunders' New York Dolls guitar solos. What more could anyone desire from a book?... Read it now, and then make your friends buy their own copies. You'll thank me one day."--Neil Gaiman

You heard the man! Go buy one! I bought one for a friend, now it's your turn.

Z

So Wages the War

It will never cease, it will never relent. This is due to the enemy's unwillingness to give up their unwavering expansionist crusade. I'm sure that if the weeds stopped, the humans wouldn't give them a second thought.

And so I was hired into this hopeless war.

Bodies scrambled to and fro, each catering to their specific task. The sky was filled that day with grey wisps that were strewn across the sky, as if someone had been scraping their feet as they strolled across the blue expanse. The bodies didn't notice they sky. They never do.

It is over this metropolis of taraxacum officinale and panicum dichotomiflorum that my shadow is cast. High above the bustle, the leather gloves are slid on sealing the fate of the civilization below. In only a matter of minutes their world will come crashing down; a vain attempt to save their home will be made but in the end, only one will walk away from that battle.

Standing up from the razed flowerbed, I look to the once thriving weeds now dying on the ground beside me. I know that after I leave, the process will begin again. They will rebuild, the next time stronger than the last and perhaps one day they shall be the victors.

That was but one city I destroyed that day but there were many that fell to my strong arms and determined weed tool. There was one one city that was keener than the rest. Not only had it grown to a much greater size, but it stored a quite a punch for those who dared to upset it. It was in this battle that I experienced my first loss and the inevitable incapacitation for the rest of the day.

I moved in first where the structures were thinnest. I thought it would be easier to work from the outsides in, rather than dive headfirst into the encampment and be surrounded on all sides. These weeds though had strategically placed themselves amongst a rose garden and that was to my defense's dismay.

Knelt down so as to get under the roses, my senses were then dangerously close to the enemy. It was in this position, body low, arms outstretched, that my enemy began it's attack. Using it's position, the enemy gained the upper hand. During our battles I was often caused pricked and scraped from the surrounding rose stalks. This was how they drew first blood. It would not be the last time that day.

I dredged on, working past their expansionist colonies and their petty prickled troops.But I dared not raise my eyes above the current battle or I was disheartened. In the distance I saw the center of their colony. Spindly vines carried the enemy up the rose bushes and to the top of the nearby pear tree. From that aerial position they could plan out their steady conquest of the Short's backyard empire. This is what I was battling, an unfeeling, unmerciful opponent. I lowered my eyes and wiped my brow, they would soon feel the power of my resolve.

I cleared the perimeter of that garden but no matter how I reached I could not get past the thorns or stalks of the allied vegetation; the pear tree and the roses were actually hindering my progress. There was but one option left. I dove into the greenery and found myself in darkness.

I blinked my eyes and scrunched my nose. My advance into the darkness had temporarily hindered my sight thrown up debris that brought havoc to my nose. I took a moment to familiarize myself with the new surroundings. A fence was at my back and in front of me lay the backside of the pear tree and roses. I had gained access to the infrastructure and from here I could annihilate their entire city.

I reached for the roots, I clenched and pulled. These structures were deeper, thicker, harder, and had bigger thorns. It would take more than just my arms to wrench them out. I crouched down and unleashed my backup; two mighty legs pushed and two solid arms pulled. And so it was that the stem came undone. I reached up and pulled spindly vines from the trees and branches, I ripped and tore, pulled and chopped, until there was little left of a once blossoming kingdom. Though they had lost this battle, it was not long after I had jumped back out of the darkness that I realized how much damage they had done. Looking to my arms they were bleeding and inflamed. My eyes now watered and the desire to rub them was overwhelming! My nose screamed in irritation and tried desperately to expel this ghastly biological agent that had descended upon it.

There was little hope of any more battles that day. The damage was dealt and I left that day a miserable man. Had it not been for the anti agent Benadryl I may not have survived. I slept a long drug induced sleep that night. Wearily in the morning, I opened my no longer puffy eyes to the realization that it would start all over again. And so it did.

So Wages the War.

So you think you can speak eh?

Today will go down in History... at least my personal history.

Public Speaking has been the jewel of my classes thus far as I love the professor and I love the art itself. In that class, not to long ago, great things were set in motion and now they are near fruition.

First I was nominated by my peers to participate in the Department of Communication's Annual Speaking Competition. I was thankful for this opportunity but fairly surprised by the nomination. Regardless, of 500 some students that took the class, a mere 23 were nominated. I felt pretty good.

Then came the competition itself. It was today starting at 4:00. There was to be a preliminary round, a semi-final round, and a final round. The preliminaries would be split into 6 groups of 4 (even though we had a mere 23) and the winner from each group would move on.

I listened to two great speeches in my section, I thought for sure that I wouldn't be moving forward, especially because I had COMPLETELY left out one of my Main points. That point was fairly crucial to my argument. So after our group had gone we went back to a common room where the names were read aloud.

I had been last to go in my section, and my section was the last of the sections, so of course the anticipation built. However, seeing as I had misstepped so badly in my speech, I figured that I for sure wouldn't be moving on therefore I wasn't too worried about it!

Then Professor Matt McGarrity read my name.

I was stunned. But only momentarily. I can only surmise that my presentation had pulled me through. Regardless, congratulations were said and everyone but the judges and semi-finalists were left in the room.

One by one we gave our speeches. I saw some really great speeches and again thought, I wont be moving on. I, of course, was last again. Finally my time came and I gave my speech. I have to say it was the best delivery of my speech to date. I was happy with it, but not at all expectant of anything.

We shuffled out of the room and then back in 10 minutes later. There, on the whiteboard, were the names of 3 finalists. The last name on the list read "Zach Simonson-Bond" and again I was shocked.

I made it to the finals! Not only was this a great experience, not only can I put this on my resume, but I can now say that I was a finalist in the Annual Department of Communication's Speaking Competition. And what's more, the top three speakers win prizes, 3rd being 200, 2nd being 300, and 1st being 400 dollars! I'm so grateful for this opportunity and it's been a blast. No matter the result from here on, I'm so happy just to have been apart of it! I hope I can continue my public speaking skills in the future!

Z