Bla Bla Bla

Although no part of my existence provides even slightest bit of movie material, reading bunch of words I’ve written below I wondered whether I can break it down into, let’s call it that way, a movie structure.

Think of it as one of those long european movies describing mundane existence at the end of which you ask yourself: “What was the point of this?”

– PROLOGUE –

Growing up (and living) watching American movies, I’ve developed three major fears related to traveling to the United States:
– I’ll find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time in the company of some guy so high that the idea of slitting my throat or emptying clip of bullets into my head seems like an excellent anecdote to share later with his buddies over drinks
– I’ll accidentally do something stupid that will result in the treatment by the American judicial system, followed by incarceration where I would soon become a bitch owned by some guy, with a very poor taste in men, called Bubba
– I’ll get sick and will either die in front of the hospital door not being able to pay for treatment or be admitted and get bankrupt along the way.

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Having a job which involves quite a bit of traveling, it’s inevitable that at some point you’ll find yourself away when you’d rather be at home. Case in point, on my 30th birthday (roughly at the time of the dinosaur extinction) it was Saturday of the weekend I spent in a client’s office on a 40-odd non-stop working marathon feverishly trying to meet a deadline, and at some point I thought “This is a pretty depressing way to ‘celebrate’ birthday”.

I mention that because it just so happened that my birthday came soon after arrival to US. In all honesty, it’s been a while since I considered birthday celebrations a big deal (and I suspect that higher the number will be, less importance it will have), but still, the thought of spending that day all alone, thousands of miles away from friends and family is hardly something one can look forward to.

By the way, shouldn’t birthday celebrations get merrier and wilder as the number of candles on the birthday cake increases (in a spirit of “I’m still here”), rather than other way around? Looking at it from a different perspective though, imagining elderly ladies and gents being hauled away by ambulance because the consumed alcohol clashed with their heart medications, perhaps it’s better that the things are the way they are.

So, having in mind that birthday as such is not a big deal anymore, I had no plans for some improvised celebration, not even a half-decent dinner. However, since my birthday would start, taking the time difference into account, some time around 6 PM Sunday, walking around and looking at the Chicago skyline I thought I might as well treat myself with a nice view of the city. After all, we are talking about US city here and, if there is something there is no shortage of in Chicago, it’s skyscrapers.

Few facts: Chicago boasts two of the tallest and 4 out of top 10 tallest buildings in US (New York has only 3 in top 10). Out of those two tallest ones, one is the Sears Tower (known nowadays as Willis Tower) while the other one is already mentioned Trump Tower which I passed by every day on my way to work. Weirdo that I am, for reasons unknown even to me, I chose John Hancock Center to satisfy my yearning for heights. That one is some 40 meters shorter than Empire State Building and whooping 100 meters shorter than Willis Tower. I have to say it was a mystery to me why I went for the JHC and being unable to think of a reasonable explanation I decided it must be because I made that decision spontaneously, without much thinking.

Having location sorted out, I thought it would be ideal to get there around 5:30 PM for two reasons. One, it was around sunset time which guaranteed pretty spectacular views and photos and two, as mentioned earlier, due to time difference, 6 PM in Chicago would be beginning of my birthday.

Cheapskate that I am, even for my birthday I decided not to go to the official observation deck but to a bar which is just one floor below and doesn’t cost 20 $ to get in.

Congratulating myself that not only did I think of some way to mark my birthday but will be able to save some money along the way too, I showed up there as planned enjoying the fact that dusk was just slowly setting in when … it turned out that I’m not the only cheap bastard in Chicago. On the contrary, in the corridor at the entrance to the bar (if one can call enormous place, probably occupying most of the entire floor, a bar) there was a long queue of people waiting to be seated.

There are very few things I hate more than queuing up but in this case it was even worse because sun was setting down and with each passing minute of waiting in that overheated corridor there was less and less light for good photos. Next 30-ish minutes I spent between “this is pointless, I might as well leave” and “I should have just a bit more patience”, sprinkled with unhealthy dose of nervousness. Even more frustrating was the fact that I was sure that, being alone, I could probably be seated pretty quickly, but it took forever to find place for all those groups and couples ahead of me.

Once it was finally my turn to be seated, as suspected, I was immediately taken to the seat at the bar which was OK, but there was one small problem – the view of the entire city of Chicago was behind my back. Less than two meters behind me was floor-to-ceiling glass wall with spectacular view of the city. Given I was already half-crazy because of all the waiting, being so close and not really be able to enjoy what I came here for was not an option so as soon as I got the ordered beer, I managed to find a seat by the wall.

And then, pure pleasure. True, due to the whole waiting thing good part of the sunset was already gone but since it was a beautiful, cloudless day, there were still traces of sunlight at the horizon so I managed to catch few minutes for frantic photographing. Sunset or not, the view was spectacular. Few years back Branka and I went to Empire State Building and it was nice but not as nice as this, simply because there I was, sitting at the edge having only half an inch of glass between me and the abyss.

When the sun finally completely set and I exhausted all the photographing angles, I was finally able to relax, wish myself a happy birthday and finish by then already warm beer.

By the way, looking into it later, it turns out that the John Hancock Center was built the same year I was born so my spontaneous decision to go there was more than spot on.

Coincidence? Probably.

Sixth sense? Who knows?

Anyway, it took me few days to get over new biorhythm and with that to get back to my regular cycle of going to sleep way too late and suffering badly getting up in the morning.

Another thing which guaranteed to tear apart any kind of routine was the fact that the hotel I stayed in was proudly 100% smoke-free. But, humans being highly adaptable animals I got used to it somehow. True, it doesn’t help that it’s cold and windy outside which doesn’t really make ideal conditions for smoking on the street. At some point I had to buy hand cream (how metrosexual it sounds) because due to the combination of low temperatures and wind I developed bunch of small sores on my hands which looked quite ugly.

Overall, the sad fact was that since 2008 there was no smoking allowed in closed spaces in Chicago.

Work itself was nothing special and one could even argue about the rationale behind coming to Chicago in the first place but that’s a whole different story. The fact that it took me about 5 minutes of leisurely stroll to get to work was super convenient and then I’d find myself in front of the huge skyscraper where the office was while across the street was even higher one – Trump Tower. To my disappointment, the Hollywood scenario where a guy from some remote country bumps into an elderly gentleman with a funny hairdo, they develop a friendly relationship and soon after that the  gentleman says “You are hired” after which aforementioned guy ends up sitting in a corner office with a view overlooking three neighboring federal states, counting his six-digit salary whole day – never happened.

Instead, day after day I’d be going to the office where there were a lot more people sitting than, I’m pretty sure, some safety regulations would allow.

For the first few days it was actually quite fun because having a colleague there with me, I had a rare opportunity to spend time with someone whom I could have a dinner or grab a beer with. If, on top of that, it’s someone you can have a normal communication with as opposed to forced conversation one is often forced to endure, even better. That meant that at least for a short period of time I could avoid somewhat sad routine of eating alone in one fast-food joint or another which is something I regularly practice since it requires least time and effort.

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So.

About a year and half since I read an email from my boss while sitting in the Belgrade hotel lobby, asking me how do I feel about working on projects in US, here I am working on the project in US (btw, my reply was that she knows very well how much of a US whore I am so that’s pretty clear).

The whole thing dragged on for quite a while so I have to admit I didn’t firmly believe something will come out of it. There’ve been a lot of false alarms, broken promises, plans gone bad etc. but in the end it did happen.

So I found myself in Chicago where I’m supposed to stay for couple of weeks after which I should move a bit closer to home, New York, for another 3 weeks. Overall, that’s the longest voluntary stay abroad (not counting 5 weeks in Morocco not long time ago, because it was a result of several return cancellations).

Since nothing good comes easy, I went through some trouble traveling to US. The flight from Zagreb to Frankfurt was at 7 AM, and it’s a well-known fact that that’s much closer to a time of the day when I go to sleep than when I wake up, so taking that into account, I got somewhere between none to very little sleep. I took comfort in the fact that it will make sleeping on the planes even easier than usual (which proved later to be oh so very wrong).

The layover in Frankfurt was comfortable 2 hours which was a nice change from the 4-6 hours spent between flights while flying to/from Morocco/Algeria for the past year or so.

At the check-in in Zagreb I was asked whether I prefer aisle or window seat, so relieved not to be stuck in the middle seat I opted for the window one so that I don’t get disturbed while sleeping by people running to and from bathroom.

My happiness lasted only until boarding flight in Frankfurt when to my horror, I realized I was a victim of, hopefully unintentional cruel joke by the check-in clerk who obviously forgot to mention that the question was related only to the first leg, to Frankfurt, meaning I was stuck in dreaded middle seat. Continue reading →