Celebrities at Halloween

EPIC NOVEMBER UPDATE - Part 2 of 3


Okay so - Halloween. Yep, 4 weeks ago - I really need to blog more! I'm always too busy hanging out with my friend Procrastination Jones! I mean, he's always there for me when I'm down, but sometimes I feel like he's not really helping me with the root of my problems - hanging out with him is more of a veneer....... So, Halloween. I wasn't going to celebrate it. I know it's not big in France and to be honest I was tired and had work to do. But then Matt (I'm talking about the English one at ESC Rennes now) twisted my arm.

Halloween is a night of fun, games, and weird costumes, and at the latter, Matt is the master! He was searching for new ideas for costumes that we could do, and we thought of a few ideas, which included taping cereal boxes to ourselves with red marks on them, and carrying a knife (plastic of course, kids. Don't carry real knives - it's bad for your health!) - making us cereal killers! (We ended up giving that idea to Itzel for her to wear.... the French didn't really get the joke.....) and also WAIT A MINUTE! THIS STUPID BUS IS GOING PAST THE AIRPORT! I JUST WASTED 12€ ON A TAXI TO GO TO THE ONE BUS STOP WHEN I COULD HAVE GOT IT FROM RIGHT BY THE AIRPORT!!! GRRRRRRR we had another idea where we just blow some green or purple balloons, attach them to ourselves and go as bunches of grapes, but then we decided that wouldn't be practical.

We also thought about current affairs and considered going as Steve Jobs and Jimmy Saville zombies (but apart from being very disrespectful, we wouldn't know how best to make ourselves look like those guys), and I also thought of bleeding Euro coins and the baby that happened to be born earlier that day who was registered as the 7 billionth person on Earth at the moment (there's nothing scarier than the reality of an overpopulated planet and depleting resources).

Of course we didn't consider the usual boring vampires (although I did consider going as Edward Cullen and acting like a pompous twat for the evening) or werewolves (considered Jacob Black too - haven't got the bod, or the stubborn tenacity towards average-looking and bloody annoying women), or wizards, devils, zombies, Frankensteins or Nick Cleggs. We wanted to be different. We wanted to stand out.

And we did.

This, my friends, is how Matt and I won a costume competition. How we made countless people out on the streets burst out laughing. How we were asked for photos with many random people. How we took half an hour to walk through la Rue de la Soif, which is about 50-70m long. This, dear readers, is how Matt and I became celebrities that night.

What a night it was! Walking through the streets of Rennes I struggled to keep a straight face and act like I was dressed completely normally. People from all sides were looking at us, laughing and commenting in French (which scared Matt because he had to try and understand a lot of locals). The moment where you see a group of people walking towards a side street, going about their business, and then they catch a glimpse of you, stop, turn around and look amazed is PRICELESS! It is seriously so funny, and it happened repeatedly that night! Okay there were some annoying people too who just wouldn't let us go - chatting non-stop (usually due to drunkenness) but it was so much fun!

And the best part was - we discovered our new favourite bar.

I had heard about the Funky Munky a couple of times already, from people who had described the lovely atmosphere and the cheap cocktails. And tonight they were having a Halloween party. This was our destination. When Matt and I arrived, it wasn't exactly low-key. We were approached by loads of people, and warned by the bartender, who was dressed as Popeye, to be careful (I didn't realise how big the cardboard cut-outs were until this point). A few minutes in, the bartender announced the winners of the costume competition - 'The Facebook boys', and gave us a 1kg Chupa Chupps lollipop as the prize (Luckily Matt doesn't like strawberry flavour, because I don't know how we were gonna share that! I still don't even know how I'm going to attack it myself!) It was a great night, but I also felt a little bad for the others. They had spent lots of money on their costumes, and there were some great outfits (especially the guys from Coventry - Alina and Raj, fantastic effort!!!). How much did Matt and I spend? 1€ each.

We simply went to LeClerc and bought some marker pens, having gone around the side of the building to find a giant cardboard box that was perfect for the costume. (Wow, Dinan is a beautiful place. Just travelling over a big viaduct. Gotta bring the guys here!) Then we worked on it for about 4-5 hours, cutting the cardboard and designing the profile pages. I'm not the best drawer, but I must say I was quite proud of my efforts here. And yes, I added 10 friend requests. It may seem a little optimistic, but I was planning ahead. I had drawn a big button saying Ajouter comme ami(e) and sure enough, by the end of the night, over 10 people poked it. But yes, the cut-out remains in my room. In the cardboard box we found several posters advertising some perfume but featuring Emma Watson, the girl who played Hermione in the Harry Potter films and became a bit of a sex symbol by the Half-Blood Prince. I kept a poster in my room for a few days before disposing of it. It felt a bit weird having a perfume ad in my room.

So anyway, Halloween rocked! And we enjoyed the Funky Munky. Any readers who are in Rennes, check this bar out. The atmosphere is great, there is a real community feel to it, it is small yet sociable, and the bartender, Loeic, is the best bartender I've met! He's been in the business for years, having worked in many bars in the UK as well over a 10 year period before setting up his own in Rennes. As well as several bars in London, he has worked for Revolution vodka bars throughout the UK, including the one in Cardiff - which I usually visit on the rare occasion that I have money to go out in Wales. His English is probably the best I've heard from a Frenchman - he even has a bit of a London accent! And he has told Matt and I some interesting stories, including a customer who paid over £40000 in an exclusive club, buying everyone there drinks, just so that they would turn the music down a bit so he could hear his wife talk! God if I had that amount of money - well I'd probably take the wife somewhere else and donate £40k to Cancer Research UK, but that's probably why I'm not doing very well at Warwick Business School....

But seriously, there's a great range of drinks, the bartender speaks perfect English and French, and they also have some great events, including pub quizzes (making me nostalgic thinking about the Rising Sun near my house in Wales), but on stuff I actually know about! Gone are the questions about 60s music, ye olde expressions, pictures of celebrities who were big in the 70s, golf and other things for old people - we had a quiz just about rock music (which my team won, beating Matt to his great frustration mwahahahaha!!!) and tomorrow there's a quiz about Harry Potter. I've won 2 out of 2 competitions I've entered there, and I know WAAAAYYYY too much about the scarred spectacled sorcerer, so my winning streak there may just continue! But anyway, guys at the Funky Munky, if you're reading this, you are brilliant and very welcoming to us foreigners, and I wish you great success in your business!

So that was Halloween. A few days after, I finally achieved my main goal for 2011 - my new year's resolution: to visit a new country before 2012. And thanks to the hardworking guys at the Well'Come team in ESC Rennes, I got my chance: a little-known town called AMSTERDAM!!!

I've wanted to post this for so long....

DISCLAIMER: The original blog post turned out to be so long that I decided to split it into three parts. This is the first part. Enjoy!


Hello everyone! Isn't it a beautiful day? The sun is shining (okay it's getting dark - stupid winter!), the birds are singing (okay they've migrated to the South - stupid winter!) and everyone is looking great in their summery bright-coloured clothes (stupid winter). But seriously, life is good! Life is awesome! And do you know why? Because I've overcome the shit phase!!! That's right - it's been achieved!

Hang on, your face is blank. Why is that? You should be amazed! Why is there tumbleweed rolling around your feet? Oh yeah, you don't know what I mean by the shit phase do you? To the Olford dictionary!!!

shit phase (n):  the period of time during a semester or other related excursion where one goes through a period of sadness and feels down. This is often due to stress or homesickness, or the need for a new computer because your current one is a piece of shit. The shit phase can last for an indeterminate amount of time depending on its antecedents and consequences, and to overcome it is to feel a sense of joy and achievement.

(Origin = 'phase' from phases, plural of phasis, referring to 'appearance' of the moon and stars, used to determine time. 'Shit', in its stercoraceous original meaning, is believed to be derived from to 'split' and to 'shed', graphically depicting the egestion process. With the product of the process being thought of as bad, the word 'shit' has adapted this connotation, which has been used in this phrase). 

So now you realise why I'm feeling so good! You see, I haven't really updated the blog properly for quite a while. You've been expecting stories of my activities and experiences in Rennes and beyond, but recently I've only been feeding you updates on one aspect of my life - my failing internship application process. Indeed that has been a dominant part of my life at Rennes this past month, but it has hardly been all of it!

You see, I have been going through this shit phase, where the novelty of living in Rennes was starting to wear off. I was getting tired of the constant bullshit I was being fed at school, the group projects, the fact that I will soon be saying goodbye to some very close friends, the stupidly overpriced bars and the lack of open bars, the fact that I'm too scared to go to the hairdressers for fear that they'll give me the most gay haircut, the difficulty in being able to eat well, the fact I am constantly tired and the lack of decent hangover food, the corridor in the business school resembling the Room of Requirement in Harry Potter because it kept changing, the lack of rooms available at the school to study in, the....oh you catch my drift! A particular moment that made me question why I'm here in Rennes is when a Belgian friend asked me why I didn't just do a masters in France so my year abroad counts for something - that made me really think about what I was doing. Am I wasting a year here?

So basically, I didn't want to update my blog properly, because it would all just be emo stuff that nobody would want to read. Now if this was a diary, I would definitely have gone through with it, but despite it being a great opportunity for catharsis, I refrained and instead started listening to some hardcore music again. It's quite soothing if you feel pissed off and emo, but I hadn't listened to it in a while. Here, if revision/end-of-term blues are getting you down, enjoy! Of course, if you're all good, or just plain hate this kind of music, then don't worry! It's just there if you need it, if you are in a shit phase, or need some loud music to keep you up at night as you have an essay due in the morning.

But anyway, it's all getting better! My shit phase is over. Why? Because those group projects are done, the only thing i have to really worry about at Rennes. Yes, there's exams, but don't forget - nothing counts for me - so anything individual is nothing to fret over too much. Indeed, I will revise, so I actually learn something this year (if you can learn anything from Project Management!) but I'm not going to stress about it - it's not as academic as Warwick for starters, and if I can successfully cram for Warwick exams, this won't be too hard!

Also, I am writing this blog post in a lovely cafe in Dinard, having just returned from a weekend in Leamington visiting my closest friends who are stuck at Warwick Uni for a third consecutive year.  It was lovely to see them, and to have a fry up (which took bloody ages to arrive!), some proper chips, some lamb, curry and Cadbury's chocolate - all luxuries that I cannot really enjoy in France. Gathered around a hookah pipe saturday night, sharing stories of my year with my good friends and listening to their stories, I couldn't help but remember how chilled weekends at Warwick were, compared to the loud and bustling nights out in Rennes, where everyone went out. At Warwick, the big student nights are on Tuesdays and Thursdays - pretty inconvenient, but that's how it goes in the UK.

But it was great to have a relaxing weekend after the stress and sleepless nights of my three presentations and reports, and to see the guys who I've spent so much time with the last two years. Matt, an Australian expat who lives in Singapore, picked me up from the airport and I spent most of the weekend with him. The guy's a legend, great to drink with, a superb musician and much cleverer than he thinks he is! I also stayed with John, my only eurasian brother who is still in England. He and Amar, another good friend of mine, have secured jobs as investment bankers when they graduate - so I know some top dogs already! Might come in handy to get me out of my graduate job at McDonalds.....

Last night I ate at Cosmos with those three guys and Lil Chris (he's called Little Chris because there's another Chris who's a lot taller than he is, and they just happen to be best friends with each other!) - this guy is an awesome dude - as kind as he is talented, he is a very handsome man, loves dogs, fronts a kick-ass band, and was a football captain, and he is also an avid reader of my blog, so LC, there's your return shout-out! (That'll be £10...) It was lovely getting impregnated with food babies with these guys, but maybe not the best idea to overdose on MSG the night before a flight! Luckily I survived, and am in this lovely cafe in Dinard, waiting for my bus back home. By the way, due to my poor planning and poor French public transport, I wouldn't have made it to the UK were it not for my very kind Belgian neighbour Mathias, who very kindly drove me to the airport as a last-minute favour. Mathias, I tried to bring you back some Stella Artois Cidre, but the airport security confiscated it - sorry! I'm not used to this whole flying thing - was the first time I boarded a plane in 4 years! I came out feeling like my ears were squeezed to fit inside my head!

Also, I am typing this blog update with total freedom, not tethered to a mains socket - all thanks to my beautiful new MacBook Pro (a nice big step in my transformation process to become a pretentious business student!) I love it already and I think once you go Mac, you can't go back! Thank you Erasmus grant! In fact, let's have a nice happy song, to make up for the BMTH number earlier. You can't be upset listening to this - it's impossible!

Woohoo! Bipolar blog posts FTW!

So now, I am ready. Ready to give you a more traditional Ollish update of life so far in Rennes. I had promised stories about Halloween, Amsterdam, and how the blog saved me from an essay deadline. Apart from that, it's mostly been about the group projects and internship applications. We went out a few times of course, searching all night one night for a club called 'Museum' (got seriously lost - turned out we were asking for directions to an actual museum, at 01h30...). Plus, I stupidly decided to go to an open bar last week (they finally showed up again - and there had to be 3 in my most stressful week. Bye bye 100% attendance!) - which was great fun anyway, but a silly decision. But hey, I was stressed, and my friends were very persuasive.....

But anyway! Time for a quick summary of the last month! Or it would be, but I need to catch that bus back to Rennes. Hang on, will continue writing this in 15 mins.... Bear with me!

.....(frantically running for bus, babbling in French with the driver, convincing her that my ticket is valid.....)

There we go! All good - will be back in Rennes in about 2 hours. Currently on the French equivalent of the National Express, so of course it will be stopping at every single house on the way there. So I'll have time to finish this, with plenty to spare!

The next post describes the awesome experience that was Halloween, and the discovery of my new favourite bar. The third post documents what happened in between the other 2 posts - most notably my trip to Amsterdam!

But for now, remember this. If you're in a shit phase, don't worry too much about it. Think about what's getting you down and try to just sort it out! I got a new computer because my old one would not survive without a charger (and even when the charger was inserted it took some convincing for the PC to actually charge!), I visited my friends at the UK, had a quick break from Rennes, and reminded myself why I'm there. I'm definitely changing as a person, becoming more confident. All Warwick has done for my confidence was to bury it, and maybe a third consecutive year there would have put the nail on the coffin. But I feel better here, like I have developed more as a person through the challenge of living abroad. Maybe that in itself is worth it.

So without further ado, enjoy the next two posts! And remember, don't let the shit phase get you down!

Rant just beginning

Ollie

You can't test personality

DISCLAIMER: This particular post is going to turn into a rant, containing strong language. If you find strong language offensive, then kindly fuck off.


Hello guys! Ollie here! You've missed me, haven't you! No? Well I missed you. Bitch.

Anyways as always I've left it way too long before updating the blog. It's something I always want to do, believe me, but other things get in the way, like studies and KFC and beer. It's hard to fit it all in.

Okay it's 3am and I'm shattered. It's been a bit of a busy week for me because I have 3 projects due next week. THREE!!!! That's 3 presentations and 3 pieces of written work to go with it. The amount of stress we went under for marketing metrics was one thing, but knowing that on monday I'm due to present about the HR department of the Orange network in France when we haven't even had a response from the HR manager is pretty damn vexing.

However, that is the least of my concerns. You see, as the term has progressed, especially in the last few weeks, I realised something: my classes don't count for SHIT! So my motivation to work my butt off has decreased somewhat, but unfortunately for my group mates, it counts towards their free Double Degree that I won't be able to get because of Warwick's snobbery/exchange agreement with Rennes. My point is that my priorities, despite the impending doom of the unholy trinity next week, lie with getting an internship of some sort next summer to kick-start a career of some sort, which has truly been annoying me.

Of course, other things have happened in the past few weeks, but I will write another post on that topic very very soon. Stay tuned for stories about I became a local celebrity on Halloween night, the true extent of the attractiveness of Amsterdam hookers, the discovery of my new favourite bar, and how this blog has helped me survive an essay deadline.

But for now, there's something I need to get off my chest. Something that really bothered me this evening, after all my efforts this past week with my applications. By the way, I've done the 4 applications. We made the pact easier by allowing any 4 internship applications before I could shave, rather than specifically the Big Four. However, one of my applications so far is to PriceWaterhouse Coopers, and the others are to BT, AB InBev and Centrica. I shaved Tuesday night, having completed the applications, leaving a moustache for a banterous photo (below) before removing that too. Before then, I had not shaved since Halloween. That's right. Halloween.

Yeah I bailed out of the beard 10 days in, because the Saturday after my last post I was in a club. For those who don't know, I'll provide the Olford dictionary entry below:



 club (n): a) a dark, poorly maintained former workhouse where people go to get drunk and dance to repetitive music in the hope that they get laid. The music is often played on rotation, with the same chart-toppers receiving three plays per night, to which the general populace's attention span is oblivious. b) the optimal place for rape; everyone is drunk, it is tightly confined and there is never any mobile phone signal.


So yeah, I was in the club, because that is where society puts us 21 year olds. After getting free entry, saving me 14€, I sat around bored. The place was yet to fill up, but the 'music' was pumping so loudly I couldn't hear anything my friends were saying to me. I realise now this is the reason, apart from the Dutch courage that booze gives you, that people hook up so much in clubs - you can't hear what the other person is saying, so you can't judge them! However, I was not on it that night - because:

 1) The drinks were a fortune. I necked a couple of bad-tasting tequilla shots with lime that wasn't even fresh, and paid 5€ each time for the privilege. A few days later I bought 30 beers for that price in the supermarket, so ridiculous wasn't the word! The only way I was getting drunk that night was to take out a mortgage, and the banks were closed at 1am.

2) That irritating fur on my face. The copious hairs on my visage must have been having a right rave in there, but more likely it was the humidity in the air caused by the heat of a few hundred drunks and the ubiquitous sweat and exchanged saliva. Apart from the beard causing me great discomfort throughout my frankly boring time at the club, I also hated that I looked like the end result of Han Solo and Chewbacca becoming a bit too close....

So when I found out we were going out on Monday for Halloween, I REALLY did not want a repeat of the night, so I'm ashamed to say that I bailed. But there was no forfeit, so it wouldn't be a problem. But then Cam eventually noticed the lack of fur on my face, and turned the deal into what was almost a How I Met Your Mother-style slap bet. If you haven't seen HIMYM, then do it! But basically, if I shaved before submitting my fourth application he could get five free slaps to use at his own discretion, as hard as he can. So I HAD to grow it, despite the incessant itching and my looking like a hobo.

Anyway, after 15 days, I finally shaved. As you can see, my beard had become a bit thick. And what a shave it was! The feeling of satisfaction as I lathered the shaving gel, the thrill of achievement as I drew the blades across my face, the ecstasy of knowledge that I had earned this shave through hard graft as I left my mocha-stain of a moustache for a quick Movember photo (I realised I looked like a bit of a gay idol, so I thought - why not milk it!), the excitement to produce more kick-ass applications as I shaved off the excuse for a tache, and then the rush of fatigue as I realised it was 5 in the morning.

 Hello ladies......... (Don't worry, I shaved it off straight away!)

However, my joy was short-lived, because yesterday I had to complete the online assessments for PriceWaterHouse Coopers. There was a numerical assessment, which went well, a logical one (spot the patterns) which was okay, there was an assessment asking me what I would do in certain cases, which I guess was alright. But the final assessment was NOT okay. Not at all. These kinds of tests are evil, backstabbing and built to crush hopes and dreams (not that I dream of working at PwC, but experience there would open countless doors for me). BUT ANYWAY - this test is built to ruin lives and nothing else.

I am talking, of course, about the personality test.

Now this was not the first time I had faced this heartless adversary. I was defeated by the nemesis last year in my one and only non-penultimate-year internship application to HSBC, and it was presented in the same format. He appeared in a different, weaker, less harmful form on my Centrica application earlier this week, where I had to click a dot corresponding to how much I agree with each statement. At least in this form, I could be consistent, and hopefully I defeated him then. But Wormtail's been scurrying about again and ressurrected the bastard in his full form to block my way to what could have been a life-changing work placement.

What form is this, you ask? They give you three traits about how you work and make you click which of them applies the most and the least to you, hence ranking the three in order of importance. Often, all three of the traits applied to me, so my answers will look extremely inconsistent because it was kinda like choosing between your children. If comparing traits to one another didn't make it quite hard enough to be consistent, they gave me 104 of these soul-destroying tables to complete, so I wouldn't be able to remember what I said beforehand. The only thing I remembered doing consistently is putting 'I am quiet about my achievements' least (because it was comparing to things like 'I care about meeting deadlines' and 'I am good with people'). Now if this were a dignified interview, where a human would test my personality rather than a SHL system, then I would be able to justify my answers and explain that clicking 'least' meant just that, not that I don't do it at all. In this case I would explain that it's because I am a confident person who is proud of his achievements and strives for more or some shit... but NO! PwC are now gonna think I'm an arrogant dickhead, because of some dots.

I was so disheartened doing this test that I kept shouting at the computer (Itzel was with me, enjoying my rage, so I wasn't being totally schizo) complaining about how stupid this whole concept is.When you have 104 of these tables to plough through it is tough, but when your Internet connection takes forever to load each one it is HELL! My initial strategy was, of course, to lie. I didn't want to say what I really believed, that I am better at discussing abstract concepts than following the rules, because that wouldn't be what they want. But then it turned out that strategy was tough to keep going because the questions just got stupid. I had to choose between 'I like being in control of the group', 'I enjoy numerical problem-solving' and 'I am bored with routine' - this was like Sophie's Choice!

Okay I know I'm boring you with this, but I'm just warning you, because it seems we all will have to face this bastard test at some point or other. It seems no matter how good you are, no matter how hard you work at school or how much you partake in extra-curricular activities, you can't get the job unless you can read the minds of the HR department and pretend to be what they are looking for. Even Employable Ollie is struggling - and he's got the best CV I know!

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003114301784

And then they say the most annoying and patronising thing ever - "There are no right and wrong answers". THERE CLEARLY ARE!!!! If you click certain dots, you're out! Game over! Those, my friends, are WRONG answers. On the other hand, if you click other dots, you could get the interview (providing, of course, the rest of the application - you know, the bit that actually is to do with your abilities and skills - is all good), and these, kids, are the RIGHT answers! So don't tell me that there's no right or wrong answers, because it could make the difference between an internship at PwC that could set up an entire career, or me stubbornly hoping that I pass the next personality test for another company, and then another company, and then another.......

Now the companies will try to justify this by saying 'we want to make sure that the candidate's personality suits the company's culture, otherwise they won't want to work there.' Firstly, you can't codify personalities! How can a computer program judge what a person is like, when people aren't even given the opportunity to explain their decisions. Personalities are complicated, fascinating things. They're not just 'yes' or 'no' answers!

And secondly, and most importantly, have a quick look at this

http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2011/nov/16/young-jobseekers-work-pay-unemployment?fb_action_ids=10150377263619220%2C10150392635104765%2C1088037656394%2C2239042295870%2C2239034775682&fb_action_types=news.reads&fb_ref=U-ynNKdGFcJHdn4uU4IsQkPz-CFCONX01FRS-33dy8XXX%2CU-Gv0LPwvMIjoV4dA8Ik0GwN-CFCONX01FRS-33dy8XXX%2CU-3tc_FkTxEkTl4ri6Jdag77-CFCONX01FRS-33d84XXX%2CU-KnENn4JJqd1g4oQOI7ootl-CFCONX01FRS-33e2mXXX%2CU-SFOGA0ClxOOg4OofIGE0Co-CFCONX01FRS-2fdkfXXX&fb_source=other_multiline

Graduate jobs are so competitive and hard to get these days, that young people are working for free! When slavery is the alternative, do you think I give a fuck whether or not companies prefer to work with data or talk about abstract concepts?! If someone is good enough for the job, then just give it to them dammit!  Just because a computer program states that I can't fit in with a company's culture now doesn't mean that I can't adapt to it when I work there! I'm applying to you aren't I? I spent 4-5 hours filling in an application and another 3 hours doing those tests! I don't think when there are over 70 graduates competing for each job, that they care about the company not suiting their need for a competitive environment!!!

So thank you, personality test - you've pissed me off and made me overly pessimistic. Now I'm waiting for my rejection email from PwC, because my answers were inconsistent and I doubt they'll want an emo arrogant dude.  Moral of the story, kids - don't waste your time with education. Fuck staying in every night at school to get the best grades you can get. Go out, have fun, and focus on something you enjoy. Maybe I could have actually been good at the guitar, or a novelist or something, rather than studying at business school, because it doesn't seem to matter how clever you are, or how much work experience you have, or how much money you've raised for Teenage Cancer Trust.

All that matters is that you tick the right dots.

Rant OVER!
Ollie

P.S. Don't forget, the next post will resume the normal report on the year abroad and is coming very soon, pessimism and internship free! It's out of my system now. Don't worry :)

Internships - a losing battle.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this blog post are those of the pseudonym Oliver R Lloyd III, and do not necessarily represent the views of the real Oliver R Lloyd. Thus, if any potential employers read this blog and actually take it into account when considering my applications, please do not be offended if your company is publicly mocked, and please mind your own fucking business. This is a personal blog, why are you using this to judge me? It's George Orwell's 1984 in real life - seriously, leave my personal life alone. By all means, check out my Twitter and LinkedIn pages - actually don't, because they're empty at the moment. Just look at what I give you okay? My CV, cover letter, application form... the documents that are actually written for you. If you want to know the real me, ask me in for interview, don't Facebook/Blogger stalk me. Instead, focus on restructuring national debts or something and get us out of this economic crisis. I'm sick of paying 20p for a Freddo. 




Okay I had to write that disclaimer, because this week I posted a Facebook status saying that I was about to start my first internship application, adding the words "Bullshit cap ON". Upon reading this, a friend warned me against posting such honest statuses when companies could judge me by my Facebook posts. Of course, my Facebook statuses are only viewable by my Facebook friends, to protect me from paedophiles and beggars (despite me being 21, and beggars probably not having access to Facebook. But hey, it seems everyone has it these days!) so I didn't have to worry there. But my friend made a good point - and this sucks!

Why are companies looking at our social media? What are they hoping to achieve? Of course, most of our profiles aren't going to be very flattering from a career perspective, what with photos of drunken antics, crude wall posts from friends, and other things that show that Facebook is what it is - a SOCIAL network! Yes, it is a good way for marketing companies to judge your 'social influence' but isn't that what the Klout score is for? And what about assessment centres etc?

So a profile without anything that may hinder the candidate's chances of employment. Hmmm... what could that look like? How about this? 

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003114301784

Now of course my real profile isn't like that (much) - because when I say 'bullshit cap ON', I don't mean 'lie' - I just mean extend the truth somewhat. The art of bullshitting incorporates the inherent ability to tailor your achievements and experiences to the values and requirements of that for which you are bullshitting, may it be a company, a seminar tutor, or a Warwick Advantage Award application (I managed to get an award to demonstrate my contribution to extra-curricular activities at Warwick, which should hopefully give my CV a boost). Bullshitting is not a bad thing, it is simply a colloquial term to describe the art that all candidates should practise. So even if the companies about to receive my applications did see my status, they should understand that I would not be lying to them, as that would be illegal (and cheating - and I don't want to get anywhere in life not on my own merits).

So yeah, moving on. This week has been my much-needed week off. No classes, no annoying 8:15am starts, no boring entrepreneurship lectures, no-thing! I was going to go home for the week, see my family and friends, and watch the rugby world cup final in Cardiff if Wales had made it there (as was our right). Or I could have gone with Cam to see Kai in Rome, which he tells me was beautiful and awesome (he's already returned). But no, I decided to save my money, stay in Rennes and focus on one thing - getting these internship applications started and out of the way so I could focus on my 32047 group projects and exam revision.

Did that go to plan? Of course not.


Why, you ask? The truth is, I'm scared. I'm scared of investing hours of valuable year abroad time on each application, only to be rejected by each company. I've read their job descriptions - the people they're looking for, and the experiences that they need. I'm scared. I only scraped my 2.1 last year, I wasn't an official exec member of any society, and the only work experience I have had is making and serving pizzas. I'm not 'Employable Ollie'. I don't know much about fancy economics graphs, I don't really care about fluctuations in the Dow Jones market, and I couldn't tell you what major factors affect the yield on a corporate bond. But I can tell you this - I love dealing with people. It gives me a buzz. But that's not very impressive for a Warwick business undergraduate.

For a first internship, it would be great to have a great brand name on your CV. It would open so many doors. I'm looking at consulting, because I'd love to try it out and see whether or not it's for me. I'm also backing it up with HR and marketing positions at other companies. I need to apply to many companies to increase my chances of getting something, so it's a massive task ahead of me. Naturally, Prokey's been hanging out with me loads this week. We've watched a whole season of How I Met Your Mother together.

But it's starting to bother me now, this lack of getting anything done. So I've made a deal with Cam, to not shave until I've sent an application to each of the Big 4 financial firms (Pricewaterhouse Coopers, Ernst&Young, Deloitte and KPMG). As they are massively popular and very intimidating, expect photos of me with a Taliban-esque beard. I've already gone about a week without shaving, and have a nice healthy stubble going on here - so it's probably gonna get quite Jesuslike by the time I manage to find a way to convince the Big 4 that I would make a fine consultant. I mean, come on! Look at the photo! I'm a natural professional!

So yep, this week was totally wasted. Went nowhere, did nothing. But at least I'm relaxed. If you're also applying for internships, or have completed internships in the past, feel free to comment below to share your experiences, give tips (would be greatly appreciated) or just say anything you want to about this topic. Best of luck to those who are applying!

Rant over
Ollie

Patriotism & Punishment

Yes guys, that's right! I know the pain you had to endure without a post for nearly four weeks, so I have graciously decided to give you two for one! I know, aren't I kind to my non-existant fans!

Now, as you should know (and if you don't, you've been missing out!) the Rugby World Cup has been happening these past few weeks in New Zealand. Obviously this isn't very student friendly, with kick-offs being as early as 5:30am! So it is a true test of one's patriotism. And what a tournament it has been! I have always preferred watching rugby to football, unlike what seems to be an overwhelming majority of the British population, and the TV in my room, mostly used for the Xbox, has found a second function.

Now let me firstly say that watching rugby in France is SO much fun! The commentators are not exactly impartial! With the excited cries of 'Wheeeeey penalité!' and 'Aie aie aie' at poor drop goal attempts, it adds an extra dimension of fun to the games themselves. The English games really needed some fun commentary, so thanks France! It's also really fun to hear the French pronounciation of the Welsh rugby players ('James Ook', 'Shaymee Roober', 'Woh- button'). Your TV and music sucks, but with rugby broadcasting you deliver!

Obviously, my main concern in this tournament was that of my little home nation, Wales, who have had a rather unimpressive period since their last Grand Slam in 2008. Watching the first game against South Africa, I wasn't very optimistic. But then Wales turned it up, and only lost by one point to the defending World champions, with a kick by James Ook that was discounted for no apparent reason! So, a one-point loss - a fantastic achievement against the defending champions, but also really frustrating, as we were so close!

Now I don't know about you, but I find you become more patriotic the further away from home you are. In Wales, I thought to myself 'Shit, I'm Welsh. I have to learn this useless language, and there's nothing to do there'. While studying in England I conveyed the attitude 'Yep I'm the Welsh guy. We have a fair few things to do in Casnewydd. And no, we don't shag sheep - they've taken a vow of celibacy'. In France, I'm wearing Welsh tops, speaking about the amazing places to go and things to do in Wales and reciting llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch to near perfection.

And from this point on, the night I decided to stay up til 5:30am (I can't get up in the mornings you see) to watch the all-important clash against Samoa, I was ready to sing 'Mae hen wlad fen nhadau' at the top of my voice on the streets of Rennes. Of course, I was knackered during the match, and when Samoa scored that 40th minute try, I decided to get some sleep. No, I wasn't bailing on my team. I had faith that they would win, okay!

And of course, I was right.

Next came our rape of Namibia. Unfortunately I was stuck in International HRM class with my idiot of a teacher, so I had to rely on a BBC News Feed, and confused expressions from my classmates as I pumped my fists every time we scored a try (12 times in all). Then my favourite match of them all - Fiji, the bastards who knocked us out of the last World Cup. I watched in my room and relished every single point we scored, and every time our rock-solid defence denied them from scoring a single point. And Jonathan Davies' last try giving us the bad-ass final result of 66-0  made sure we qualified for the quarter finals. I wore my Welsh jersey all day, proud of such a powerful performance!

Now I knew what was going to happen. Ireland had beaten Australia in a shock victory, but if Italy beat Ireland, they would still not qualify, so I made sure to watch the match, hoping that Ireland would win so Wales would face them in the quarter finals and not Australia. Of course Ireland won, which was great, and convincingly, which was a bit vexing. But later that day I knew what I needed to do. I know a couple of Irish girls here, Katie and Michelle, who I like to chat with about the rugby, as they too are rightfully proud of their national team, and it's nice to discuss our shared hatred of the English team. They have watched some Ireland games at an Irish bar in Rennes, called the Westport, who serve a nice 'Irish' breakfast (which is a French version of the Irish version of the English breakfast) and I had agreed that if it was Wales v Ireland, I would watch it with them there. So I went to the bar later that day to book the breakfast.

That following saturday was the best morning of my time in Rennes so far.

You should know what happened, and if you don't - start watching some rugby! I was the sole happy man in the bar early saturday morning as Wales had a comfortable victory over the Irish. Of course I felt sorry for the irish people there, including Michelle (Katie had a class that she couldn't bail out on), and plus there was a slightly drunken Irish guy who looked like he wanted to maim me, so I didn't rub it in. Obviously, I was extremely happy. Never in my lifetime has Wales got to a semi final! (The last time was the inaugural cup in 1987). But the poor Irish have never even had that achievement, and I was shocked to find that out, with their incontrivertible talent.

And so after the heartbroken Irish fans left, I stayed to watch the second half of my great morning: England getting beaten by a weak French side! I cheered with the French at every opportunity France seized and England squandered. At half time, the French were 16-0. I'm sorry to say this. I feel ashamed to say this. Like a prisoner confessing his deepest sins, like a guy telling his best friend he is in love with him, like a paedophile revealing himself to the school board, I will now reveal the disgusting thought that went through my head at this stage.

I wanted England to score a try.

There, I said it! I'm ashamed to have had such a dirty mind, but I couldn't help thinking it. My English friends (including Matt) were sat with me, really depressed, and with a bar full of cheering French fans who were outnumbering them, I didn't want my friends to be humiliated. It just wasn't fair, plus France weren't playing anything like as well as Ireland did against us, and the fans were getting a little complacent. They needed a wake up call. One try, just to put the English on the board.

The try came in the second-half, and I was pleased to see the excitement on the English guys' faces. There was hope in their eyes once again, that maybe their shitty overhyped team could actually beat the other shitty overhyped team. But then, like a bump on the head, I reverted back to my Welshness. That's it England, you've got your try. Now France, kill them.

They didn't. England continued to attack and scored a second. This was getting stupid now. I had confidence that if France didn't beat England, then Wales would in the semi, but I wanted Wales to progress further than England. Much further. If Wales were the only home nation to make the semis, perhaps the BBC would start taking notice of us. Perhaps the French would take notice of us. Perhaps other countries around the world would now know of my little nation.

And thank God, the clumsy French side held their own, and I cheered with them as the final whistle was blown. Still in my Welsh jersey, I turned to the small French throng and yelled 'LE SAMEDI PROCHAIN!' and they all cheered - I felt like Aragorn or something!

So Wales had won and England had lost - it was a perfect morning! Now people were hearing of le Pays de Galles, the team that have trimphed and progressed beyond last cup's finalists England and South Africa. With our defensive performances and fluid attacks against Fiji and Ireland, and the last surviving team of the Pool of Death, I felt we could beat anybody, and the French would need to play a lot better against us. I was waiting for the semi, waiting to hear the final whistle blow and a superior Welsh side be sent to the final for the first time ever. I was preparing to deal with a lot of abuse from jealous French fans, and even to go online and book a flight back home to watch the final with my family, with 50000 Welsh fans in the iconic Millennium Stadium. I was well and truly excited that maybe, just maybe - Wales could lift the Webb Ellis trophy.

And then my hopes, and the dreams of my nation, were shattered in the worst possible way.

Getting up on Saturday morning to watch the game, I made the last minute decision not to return to the Irish bar, for fear of not being able to see the TV screen, but to watch it at Frieddie's instead. With a French boyfriend, Frieddie's allegiance was with les bleus, but she just did not understand what the match meant to me. How nervous I was that Wales succeed.

It started off well, with three easy points for Wales. I joked that I was happy for the match to end like this, while Frieddie, in her own sceptically curious way, asked questions not on the rules of rugby, but on why the rugby players had tape on their legs, which I admit, was a bit annoying. But she continued this throughout the match, and it soon became almost infuriating.

20 minutes into the game, the tragedy occured, and I stared at the screen evaluating the replay of the tackle by our captain and national hero, Sam Warburton, seeing it as a clear yellow card offense, having seen worse tackles get sin bins.

When Warburton sat down on the side, and the display said Carte Rouge I had thought maybe my French was wrong. Maybe rouge meant yellow, not red, because that couldn't happen. It couldn't be. I had never seen a straight red card before, but I had seen worse tackles!

My head fell into my hands. We had lost the game after 20 minutes. It was over. The French had an extra man for a whole hour of play. They would now destroy us, and it was just a matter of how many tries Wales could prevent.

But that was not the case. Although the French then seemingly dominated possession and territory, they could only get three penalties - not a single try! Usually the ten minute sin bin is a turning point in the game, and France had an hour with an extra man (sorry, TWO extra men with that bastard half-French, half-Irish ref - why the fuck was he in charge of  Wales v France!) and France still couldn't get past our defence, even when we were missing our captain!

Then I saw Mike Phillips break away and score a Welsh try and jumped up in the air. I could not believe it. There was just over 10 minutes left, and if Steven Jones could only convert this try, we would be in the lead! As the ball hit the post, I was annoyed (that was the 4th missed kick that could have sent us through) but still hopeful. We had the momentum. Just one more try. We could STILL do this. Screw the try, just a penalty. We could actually beat the French with a 14 man team, a historic victory. Screw the penalty, just a drop-goa-PENALTY!!! PENALTY!!! A straight long-distance kick, the very kick Leigh Halfpenny successfully put between the posts against Ireland last week. Yes! This was it! God the pressure he would have been under! I saw the ball go towards the posts and jumped in the air, smashing the glass of water I forgot I had left near me. We had done it! Just defend Wales, defend!

And then kick-off started, and to my horror, the number next to Wales was not 11, but 8. I yelled a curse - he had missed it! The ball had fallen centimetres short of the posts. We were still behind, and had one more chance. 22 phases. Come on Wales, get that drop goal! We need this! The French commentator was repeating 'pas de faute, pas de faute', to which I replied 'plein de fautes, plein de fautes'.

But the ball was lost. I could not look as the French kicked the ball away to seal their 'victory'.

Now I'm not going to lie to you guys, I was almost in tears. I was devastated! Of course, I do not believe it was a red card offence, as it was clearly momentum. He lifted Saint-Clair off the ground, which deserved a yellow, but he did not force him to the ground, so it was not a red-card offence. And if we had Warburton for that hour, oh what we could have done!

But it was too late for 'what ifs' and 'buts'. It was over. Our dream was killed by injustice and poor kicking accuracy (it was perfect against Fiji, why couldn't we have borrowed just one of those penalties?) It would have been easier if the French had thrashed us, if they had demonstrated that they were the better team. But they clearly weren't. I'm sorry to be a bad loser, but they weren't. Wales was undeniably the better team, and it was the undeserving French team, the team whose players don't trust each other or their mocha-moustached coach, who have made it to the final.

And then I was punished. Punished for my patriotism. Frieddie and Cam, who had arrived just after the final whistle, were totally unsympathetic. They just didn't understand what it would have meant to me. I tried to compare this to Germany in the football world cup, but Frieddie didn't care enough about them either. She was just bewildered at my upset, laughing and telling me 'it's only a game'. This was 10 minutes after the final whistle. How dare she be so patronising!

And then a French classmate of mine texted me saying 'Now you have to kiss the French flag as you promised!' Kiss it?! More like piss on it! How fucking dare she - like the French deserve this?! The French had beaten us by one point with an extra man! And now, they were acting like they had beaten Wales outright, rubbing it in my face. I didn't do that to Michelle and Katie, and I didn't even do it to the English guys, so why was I getting this treatment? I had to be alone for a while, gather my thoughts and relax. As I told Frieddie, she laughed. That girl really didn't get it! Maybe I was being melodramatic, but I was genuinely devastated.

All I can say is - I'm glad I wasn't at the irish bar.

So yeah, as I meet more French people this week and they ask me where I'm from that match always comes up. And the heartbreak returns. I'm still not really over the shock, but I know Wales will have to be tomorrow to face Australia for the 3rd place. But yeah, I still think of the match that should have been. Wales v the All Blacks. How incredible would that have been?

But despite all that, I have never been so proud to be Welsh. There is a SHIT load to do in my country, and loads of beautiful valleys to see. Despite the high teenage pregnancy rate, the low intelligence, and the hatred for anyone who has it, Wales is still my home. The rugby team has done us all so proud in this competition, and Shane Williams will be missed, as our greatest-ever try scorer and a phenomenal talent. But with the likes of Sam Warburton, George North, Rhys Priestland, Jonathan Davies, Toby Faletau, Scott Williams and Luke Charteris at the fore of our young talent, France had better watch out.

So despite the smug looks that were fired in my direction that day, I wore my Welsh jersey through the streets of Rennes, proud of my little nation and their conduct in this Rugby World Cup.

Good luck tomorrow, boys! Cymru am byth!

Rant over

Ollie

Business & Busyness

 Hey guys! I'm Ollie Lloyd from Newport, South Wales and I'm currently staying in Rennes, France "studying" business on my exchange year.

Just thought I'd reintroduce myself because it's been so long since you've heard from me you've probably forgotten who I am! I'm very sorry for this, but I have been very busy experiencing Rennes these past few weeks, and the longer it took, the bigger the task would become, and the more my manipulative friend Procrastination 'Prokey' Jones asked me out for a drink instead.

So how have I finally gotten the time to go through with this post? Simple, I'm in an Entrepreneurship & Small Business class with a teacher who, nice as he is, is a bit of a bore. He talks at us repeatedly for three hours at a time, with only a ten minute break to rush to get some Coke. It's thanks to him that I'm now officially addicted!

But as Richard Ashcroft sang in the classic Verve song "the drugs don't work", and the Coke can only get you so far. The effort needed to listen to his lectures, in which he says the same thing in 9 different ways (typical businessman I guess) is just overwhelming, and after finally getting (kinda) used to the 8:15am starts, this is still too much for me, and I always dose off. FYI, my body clock is still in British time, so I technically get up at 6am every morning, so any Warwickers reading this can stop complaining about their 9ams!

He doesn't allow usage of phones or even laptops during class, so I can't distract myself. And as Prokey is still at home having a staring competition with the pile of unwashed dishes, I thought - hey, let's write my blog OFFLINE! Yep, I'm seeing things differently, just like Warwick Business School claim to do. They have pictures of blue strawberries - MINDFUCK!

Okay so where did we leave off? Shit - Disneyland?! You're kidding me, that was weeks ago! Dammit this might be a long one. I might need to do this through Project Management too.....


Disneyland

I was very excited to go to Disneyland last Sunday 24th September - but why? I've been there so many times I've actually lost count! Well, 50€ for return travel and entry is quite the bargain, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to bond with those who live with me in Appart'City.

The bus ride was a pain in the ass - and neck, and back, and legs. We got up to get the bus from school at 4am (well I didn't get up because I didn't even go to bed, but let's not get pedantic about this). While we were waiting for the bus to arrive, I cracked open a can of Coke (they've stopped putting cocaine in their drinks right?). STUPID DECISION! The bus ride did not consist of cheerful banter and sing-along songs (It's been a while since I've been on a school trip), but everyone trying to get some sleep. My friends and I took a double seat each at the back of the bus and tried to curl up. With the caffeine bubbling frantically in my oesophagus, and the double seats clearly not ergonomically designed to be laid across, this ended up being quite the struggle, and thus I started my new hobby - contortionism.

When we got there five hours later, my feelings were a strange mix of nostalgia - it had been a whole 13 months since my last visit - and sadness. The magic of Disney was wearing off on me. I was there not for the atmosphere, not to hug Mickey Mouse and ride It's a Small World, but only for the 'big kids'' roller coasters. Walking through the park I was shocked at my own thoughts. I wasn't thinking I was in a different world where happiness and hope is forever ubiquitous, and my favourite Disney characters were there in the flesh. (At this age only weed can do that for you.) I was busy thinking how high the park's daily operating costs would be and sincerely doubting that, even with such a massive consumer base, Disneyland's annual revenue would be enough to make profit: WHAT HAS BUSINESS SCHOOL DONE TO ME?!

And, even worse than that, I was checking out the girl dressed as Rapunzel. She had to be my age and Oh God WHAT HAS BUSINESS SCHOOL DONE TO ME?!

Okay so anyway my priority was to try Rockin' Roller Coaster, the Aerosmith ride, and the fastest roller coaster in the park. After a childhood distaste of roller coasters, I had only conquered it last year by riding Space Mountain twice, and I had not tried the ride that, with its blasting rock music and guitar-shaped carriage, had my name written all over it!

So far it was looking good. The wait time was only 35 minutes - perfect! But then things started getting a bit shit. We were all asked to leave after 20 minutes of queuing due to the ride having a fault (I pictured a group of 24 people screaming and dangling upside down as the carriage stopped mid-loop, one or two hanging on for dear life, having somehow escaped the safety bars) and as we looked elsewhere in the Studios park, the rides either had a 90+ minute wait, or they had also messed up (more dangling screaming people). Okay, to the main park!

I won't bore you (anymore) with the details, but despite missing out on Rockin' Roller Coaster, it was still a great day, definitely worth the money!


The guys

Maybe I should introduce you to the guys with whom I went to Disneyland, who have since become some of my closest friends here at Rennes. To protect their identities, their names have been changed. Just kidding, I'm using their real names!

Matt (England) - Coming from Weston Super Mare, close to Wales, and also studying in the Midlands (Birmingham) he is from a similar background to my own, and coupled with our shared love of music and comedy we have naturally got on very well. As the only other British guy at ESC Rennes (Chris has left Rennes by the way - forgot to drop that bomb eh! He didn't like it here and decided to endure a 3rd year at Warwick instead. Wishing you the best Chris!) the two of us enjoy talking about British culture, how we miss fish and chips, and teaching our international friends PROPER English, not the American drivel they've had forced upon them.

Itzel (Mexico) - with enough kindness, wit and general awesomeness to make up for her short stature, my IBPM classmate is a great laugh, and her accent is the most adorable thing you could hear!

Simon (Ecuador) - A really funny and chivalrous guy who's somehow studying IBPM in English with me after having learned the English language for just one year! He's improved greatly already, and his voice is AWESOME - I can do an impression of him, it's so much fun!

Satu & Jaana (Finland) - Yep, it's your signature pair, where one without the other is weird. Satu is fairly quiet, but very wise when she speaks, while Jaana's lightning-fast dialogue conveys confidence and indifference towards anyone who disagrees with her. They are both fantastic, and often make my day.

Annelien (Belgium) - She knows just about everything there is to know about her home country (politics, beer, cities, culture, sport - anything!) and is very clever - luckily for me, I work with her in most of my group projects. She's also a very talented singer and a joy to discuss music with.

Rob (Cyprus) - Okay, this dude didn't come with us to Disneyland, but he lives with us in Appart'City and is definitely worth a mention! He's a big lad with a bad-ass goatee, and if you didn't know him you wouldn't want to spill his pint! But then you see his Family Guy t-shirts and realise he is just a great laugh, with a soft sense of humour, referring to my home country as the 'U Gay'. Great dude to drink with too!

Yeah I probably shouldn't have exposed these guys online, but I feel I should - they're an integral part of my time here, and I think they're all awesome! And the mix of nationalities never ceases to amaze me. I feel humbled every day to be part of such a cosmopolitan group, and I get to learn so much about other cultures from all over the world, not just that of France.




My studies

Another reason for the delay in the blog update is the sheer amount of work I have been doing for my various courses. I realise I haven't really explained what I am actually studying here, so here's a brief outline of what I'm doing:

International Human Resource Management - I realise this is my favourite field of business study - dealing with people and human capital. When I finally get started with my internship applications, I shall be focusing on this line of work. Unfortunately, I'm not the biggest fan of my teacher, who doesn't really listen to anyone's opinion. Dude, this is organisational behaviour - bloody psychology! Everyone's entitled to an opinion, and he tends to ignore our suggestions, having just asked for them, in favour of his own views based on uncited research. One particular example that pissed me off was when we had a case involving a staff member who spends his lunchtimes on the Internet and the HR manager finds he has uploaded his CV on a job website. Instead of trying to get to the bottom of the situation, our teacher would just fire the guy instead for using company Internet bandwidth for non-work related matters, even if his job performance were flawless! He even compared improper use of company bandwidth to using a company car to take your kid to Disneyland for lunch time. WTF? Who takes their kid to Disneyland for lunch? 90 minute wait times!

After an hour arguing with him, asking if our mark would be based on our almost-psychic ability to say what he thinks rather than arguing our own opinion based on academic research and business cases, we had to accept that he just would not give way. When I mentioned how demotivating firing the guy would be, the manager audaciously claimed that that was what all the Fortune 1000 companies do. When I mentioned Google and Microsoft, he said 'the rest do it'. Um, what?! How do you know this?! Have you conducted research on all 1000 companies?! Do you even know the names of all the companies! Do you even know what a company is?! Ugh, he's an idiot, but at least the arguments wake me up on Monday mornings. PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 0.3

Project Management - this is taught by the same guy who teaches Entrepreneurship, and I don't really know the point of this class, because it seems to just fall in with the business plan that we have to do for the latter class. PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 1

Entrepreneurship & Small Business Management - apparently we have an exam at the end, but at the moment I'm doing exactly what I did in my first year - creating a business plan and pitching it, except this time it is only worth 30% of the class, and the info in the lectures seems to be geared towards that. PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 0.8

French Culture - Taught by a hilarious French professor resembling Bilbo Baggins, who himself claimed that the Finnish think he's either drunk or mad. It is quite a fun class, albeit a little pointless. I'm experiencing French culture firsthand through living here, meeting French people (which, by the way, I'm continuing to succeed at) and trying raclette - a great dish involving melted cheese and various cooked meats. So it seems studying it academically may be a waste of time. Fortunately, however, it is taught in fluent French, and is a great way for me to practise listening and understanding it. PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 0.1

French Language - Due to being in the top level, and having not studied French for two years beforehand, it is extremely difficult for me at the moment, especially considering the lack of any English. The teacher knows some English, but she'd rather flap her arms about doing strange motions to explain new words. I think to myself 'just say it in English, dammit!'. I presented for the first time last week (on Coca-Cola of course, while drinking Coca-Cola of course) and it actually went pretty well, and since then my confidence has gone up. This is definitely the most difficult class, and sometimes I'm as enthusiastic about it as a snail about to enter a salt factory, but this tactic of total immersion is used in Europe, according to Frieddie, and the Germans are brilliant linguists. Maybe this is the reason we Brits suck at foreign languages so much - we need to be taught like this from the start! PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 0.7

Distribution & Channel Management - With a topic that seems unnecessarily drawn out, and a teacher whose English and general voice projection is somewhat lacking, this class immediately became my least favourite. Furthermore, considering it is early on a Thursday morning, the day after my 6 hours of French classes (which is very tiring), and sometimes the open bar events that are on Wednesday nights, it just did not seem worth studying. So, to reduce my credits to a normal level, and to allow myself a much-needed mid-week lie in, I dropped this class after just one lesson. PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 2

Marketing Metrics - This is a VERY useful class, actually giving quantitative values to the otherwise wishy-washy field of studying that is marketing. Unfortunately the teacher is from Nice in the South of France, and her commuting means that we get only a few classes in this module, but they are intense and tiring - good job that it is so interactive. PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 0.5

Salesmanship & Sales Force Management - taught by a charismatic American who clearly knows what he is doing, this course has been a very interesting introduction for me to the field of sales, a subject that is not taught at Warwick. Like metrics, the classes are few and long, but as the teacher is so engaging, and the course is so interactive, it is easy to follow, and is currently my favourite course in business. PROBABILITY OF SLEEP: 0 (except the ethics topic - that was a higher score of 0.8)


So there you go, a summary of my studies. As you can see, I have had an awful lot to do here, but it is mostly interesting, so I do not mind it at all. Although the 3 hour classes do take their toll.


Busyness

Finally, I thought I'd summarise the past few weeks outside the classroom. The weather was great the weekend after Disneyland, and I spent most of my time chilling at le Parc du Thabord, a beautifully-maintained park in the centre of Rennes, with many different people, drinking wine and enjoying what will probably be the last great weather of 2011. 

Of course, with all my various new-found friends, there has been the odd night out or fifty. I want to dedicate this, my longest blog post, to my stomach, who is an absolute LAD. The mélange of substances he has had to deal with has been ridiculous, from strong Belgian beer, wine and vodka orange juice shots (I drank so many of those shots at the last open bar I probably got my 5-a-day!) as well as one night where I decided to cook chicken that was rather funky, having been in my fridge for a bit too long. I had to pull out of a cremaillère that I was invited to in case of my getting salmonella, but fortunately my stomach fought off the small amount of funky chicken that I had thoroughly cooked, and I was perfectly fine. If there was ever a time to get food poisoning, that was it! So thank you, my stomach. Your continous service is much appreciated, and I will not test you like that again (the chicken, not the drink).

Obviously, summarising nearly a month is very difficult, but of course, for me, there was only one more event of continual importance throughout - the Rugby World Cup, which has made me very proud indeed to be a Welshman. So proud, that I will have to dedicate a separate blog post will the awesomeness of the Welsh rugby team, because clearly, I have written enough here for now.

So once more guys, I am sorry for the delay, and I will try to update it more frequently so you can get more detailed stories. But this has been a very important update for me, because I have finally outlined a few important parts of my stay here.

So what's next? Well tomorrow, after French class, I will have a half-term holiday that, coupled with the holidays of All Saints Day, will give me nearly two weeks of vacation. I wanted to travel through Europe with Cam, but due to the high costs of last minute flights, I will probably travel in January instead. I shall stay here to do some catch-up work while some friends go visit their loved ones. However, hopefully I will have some more stories to tell very soon. For one, yesterday I made sure that I achieve my main resolution for 2011 - to visit a new country. I have booked a ticket to Amsterdam for the weekend of the 5th November to see the sights and try the local specialties. Stay tuned for this guys as it should be a good one to report!

For now, I'm bloody tired, so I should leave you. I'll add photos when I can be bothered.

You look great today by the way

Rant over

Ollie

I take it back. Everything's great!

You're probably thinking "Not again! Already?! This guy's spending so much time writing his blog that there'll be nothing for him to write about, apart from the process of writing a blog." Although you're really probably thinking "I'm hungry - where's my chef/mother?" Well you're wrong, Phillip! You're wrong. Your mum is not your chef - she is so much more (Trust me, I know) and I actually am just writing a quick update because I feel bad for putting you all through such negativity yesterday.

Okay for those of you who haven't yet read yesterday's post, just read it. I cba (or as the French would say, six billets) to explain it again. Oh don't look at me like that. Please. Stop. You're making me feel bad. No, don't cry. Come on! You want a tissue? Okay, I'll explain God dammit!

Basically I explained yesterday (with far more flair) that the only thing actually worrying me at the moment is dealing with French people, including their language. I also mentioned that I was about to go to this 'buddy party' where we meet our French 'buddies' through playing games against other teams. The first game for me was juggling, and the other games seemed naff as well.

But it wasn't what I expected. It was worse.

When I eventually found my two French buddies, Emilie and Lucile, there was only one other girl there, a Chinese girl who apparently was studying English language and literature in China and had come to do business at the ESC. I felt sorry for the two French buddies, because they were volunteering to help us, so I tried to speak to them in French, but then I realised I was cutting out the chinese girl. I apologised in English, but she didn't seem to understand that either. If only I knew Mandarin...

There was supposed to be a group of 6, plus the two buddies. But that was it - just us four. As the only guy in the team, I was obliged to do the juggling. It wasn't juggling circus-style. It was worse, way worse. Football kick-ups.

I can't do football kick-ups. Plus I was dressed in a shirt and jeans ready to go out later (and dressed to give myself an excuse for being atrocious at sport). I tried to politely refuse, but the French guy in charge insisted, and I kept the ball up for three kicks before it escaped my feet and narrowly missed an innocent bystander. Because I lost to whoever I was competing against, I was graciously given a score of 0.

Next was the weight-hold-thing. We had to stretch our arm and hold a 4kg weight for longer than the guy next to us. I was feeling a little temerarious, having dabbled in a bit of weight-training in the past. So I challenged my Azerbijianian mate Orkhan to a contest of strength. He won, of course. But I did suspend it for about 2 minutes (I think) so I'm happy with that. So yep, another piece of paper with a 0.

I wasn't there to win, I was there to meet French people. And after changing my 0s to the max score of 8 and showing everyone (If you're gonna lose, lose while laughing!) I went for the buffet, and tried some baguette filled with what looked like the love-child of jam and tuna. Emilie told me that they were eating outside, so I joined them.

The chinese girl was nowhere to be seen, but I had joined a group of French people. Jackpot! I introduced myself and started chatting in French with them, and they were really nice! They then invited me to go back to someone's flat and get some pizza. I wasn't up for the pizza, because my stomach was playing up again (I don't think my stomach is used to speaking two languages) but to hanging out with genuine French people, I said 'pourquoi pas!' 

Okay, there was a reason not to - I had agreed to go with my international friends to the Irish bar, but I quickly found them, told them I'd meet them there, and off I went, in one of their cars.

We were waiting at the pizzeria and chatting in French when Cam, Frieddie and Rob (our Cypriot compadré) passed us on the way to Frieddie's and were surprised to see me with French people. I told them I'd meet them at the Irish bar, and they moved on.

You can probably see where this is going. I didn't meet them at the Irish bar. I stayed at a flat somewhere north of where I live, hardly speaking a word of English, for about 4 hours. I met some lovely people, tried a mélange of some mur liqueur and white wine. Some more French guys arrived, clearly the lads, and introduced themselves to me, giving me a Heineken. (I'm glad the Belgians weren't there to see me drink it).

I told them I was Welsh, taught them a little bit of Welsh, helped them with their English, chatted a bit about the rugby world cup, and learned some cool lines, including 'le pays de Galles est là?' meaning 'is the Welsh guy partying tonight?', and, upon leaving to go to the Irish bar, one of the French guys told me about one of the girls: 'elle a un fleur pour toi'. He then proceeded to teach me a French chat-up line, which I found hilarious. It goes 'On boit, ou on bise. Personellement, je n'ai pas soif'. You can Google Translate those yourself....

But basically, yeah, last night was great! I got to the Irish bar and only found a few friends, who were going to l'Espace (free entry with a drink again). I tried to get a drink but was too late, and I wasn't going to pay 14€ for entry. And I didn't want to deal with those bouncers again, so Francois, a new French friend who took me there, kindly took me back home.

So last night was a complete success. I now know some French people, who were impressed with my French. I am now at level 8 of the France Integration Scale, without smoking a single cigarette! My French should improve quickly now I know some French people - I knew it wouldn't be impossible! So now, everything's great :D (apart from my poor Kindle).

I'd like to admit that it's thanks to Frieddie, who persuaded me to go last night, despite my doubts, but I shouldn't, because she will NOT let it go. Instead, I'd like to thank Danny Wallace, who wrote Yes Man. Remembering that great book helped me decide to go, because saying 'yes' to new opportunities can open the doors so many new possibilities - as I found out for myself, last night.

I am now back on the path to becoming bilingual. Thanks Danny Wallace (not Frieddie).

Rant over
Ollie