I realize that we may have been a little remiss in keeping all of the Scowl, Nu? readers in the loop on everything that has been going on in the life of your favorite e-zine editors. So, for those of you who haven't talked to us in the last year of so… here's the skinny.

June, 2002. Not that we didn't enjoy our time in Hartford, but for those of you who have ever been in Hartford, you know that three years is pretty much the limit unless you're planning on breeding. Let's just face it, for everything that Hartford tries to be, if you want to get a beer downtown after 8pm on a Friday night, you're pretty much shit out of luck.

One job offer later, and we're back in San Francisco.

Let's just say that San Francisco was pretty much the same as we left it. Ok, minus the "let's spend a thousand dollars worth of dot-com money on a hamburger and a bottle of Champagne" attitude. It was like stepping into a time warp? within a week, we were going to the same restaurants that we used to go to, going to the same bars and getting into the same life.

But then something changed. The bars that we once loved started to get on our nerves. Maybe the beer selection didn't change enough… maybe the music was just too goddamned loud… maybe the attitude was just too much. The same thing happened with our favorite restaurants. Maybe the portions started to shrink… maybe the prices started to edge their way up… maybe the lines were just too long.

Maybe it wasn't them. Maybe it was us.

But as things tend to happen, just as we started to realize that San Francisco just wasn't home anymore, a question was asked of me… "Would you ever consider moving to Europe?"

As a result of the my employer's acquisition by a European company, we were presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity: come to Europe to support the product that you helped design – work with a great team, pick your city and make a difference for the company.

Needless to say, on February 22, 2003, we paid our final respects to San Francisco and got on Lufthansa's direct flight from San Francisco to Munich.

It's been a few weeks here now, and we're starting to get into the swing of life here in Munich, but for me, it's already becoming more like home than anywhere that I have ever lived.

That's all for now.

Avery

As part of my new position, I'm doing more travel through Europe. As I visit new cities, I'll try and post a little report about each city. Here Goes.

City: Dublin, Ireland

First off, let me say that getting to Dublin was just miserable. First off, since I had all of 2 days to plan the trip, the direct flights were all booked, so I had to change both planes and airlines in Düsseldorf. For those of you who have to fly through Düsseldorf, let me warn you that there are no signs in this airport, and that you cannot, under any circumstances, check in at the gate.

See, for me, if I don't have bags (as this was a one day trip&#41, I normally get to the boarding gate and check in there. It's alot easier than going out through passport control, checking in at the gate and then coming back through passport control and security.

Not in Düsseldorf.

After waiting almost an hour for a gate agent, I call Aer Lingus to find out that since I didn't check in at the ticketing desk 30 minutes before the flight, I couldn't take that flight. Needless to say, a little bit of heated conversation with the Gate Agent that showed up 10 minutes before the flight took off, and I got on the plane.

On to Dublin. Nice airport. Easy passport control ("How long are you staying in Ireland" "4 hours"&#41. Easy getting a cab ("You're on the wrong side of the road!"&#41. Great people that I met with. Fantastic meeting. Long cab ride due to construction back to the airport. Long line at check in. Again, short line at passport control and security. One Guinness at the Irish pub in the boarding area (which was remarkably like every Irish bar in San Francisco, except this one had less Irish people in it&#41. One handful of English language magazines. One short flight to Düsseldorf in cattle (economy&#41 class. One short wait and a schnitzel at the airport. One short flight to München, and I'm home.

That's Dublin for ya.

Avery