Kookymojo: the American Dream

2003-11-07T16:37:00.000-05:00

Fairly in the money now...

2003-11-03T15:26:00.000-05:00

I won $100 at the Potawatami Casino yesterday. With my very last quarter. Well, actually, I won $2.25 in vouchers on top of that but I gave those to Sharon and quit while I was ahead, making a profit of $80.50 on the twenty bucks I had played on. So that was good.

Then Sharon won forty dollars using the vouchers I'd given her, so I got half of her winnings on that, too. That worked out nicely, because I owed her $20 anyway.

After that, we went to Menards because that's what you must do on Sunday afternoon when you're a homeowner. I kinda like those places, though. It's fun to look at all the stuff you might take home if you had a place to take it to, and to daydream about your dream home. They're also surprisingly good places for people-watching. People get possessive over shopping-trollies (or, shopping-carts, if you're American), and it's always a great opportunity to snark about other peoples' appalling taste.

Well, it was that, or drive around in the rain some more.

Ate dinner at the Star of Burleigh (pr. "Burl-eye"). I do reccomend the homemade soup -- we had cream of celery with potato, and it was good. Their pancakes are huge, too.

Gah

2003-10-30T18:56:00.000-05:00

I really want to ship some stuff home, so that I don't have to deal with lugging it around when I leave. Unfortunately, UK postal workers are still on strike. Hmm, maybe if I send parcels off now, they might get home the same time I do, and won't be sitting in a warehouse somewhere. But I doubt it.

random linkage

2003-10-29T20:10:00.000-05:00

I just came across a bunch of links hidden in the "drafts" section of my Blogger account, which I had forgotten even existed. So here they are, before I forget about them again:

Created: Mon Sep 22, 12:12:16 PM
Boston cartoons
If you need a place to stay in Boston, you can stay in Al Capp's old house.

Created: Sat Oct 11, 03:23:37 PM
Nightmares
I keep dreaming that I'm back in London. Often I dream that I am asleep in my bed back in London. Waking up has been very disorientating, lately.

Created: Tue Oct 28, 04:45:50 PM
mmm, donuts
Vote for your favourite NEW Krispy Kreme! When are they going to get Krispy Kreme franchises in the UK? If they must import crap American stuff, can't it at least be crap American stuff I like?

More SPX

2003-10-28T14:40:00.000-05:00

A couple more SPX tales which didn't make my ST report.

On Saturday, some time after lunch, I ran into Paul Pope standing by the elevator. I had been thinking his haircut was sort of cute, so I told him so, adding that he might not remember me, but we had met at SDCC 2000, when his hair was a lot longer. "Sure," he said, "I remember you. Your hair was different, then, too. It's redder now."

My god. That was me in fangirl heaven right there. Not only did he remember me from three years and however many people-he-met-at-conventions ago, but he remembered my hair! That was way, way cooler than the time Paul Jenkins asked me about my wisdom teeth. (And, the thing is, my hair isn't that much redder than it was three years ago. I've been using henna for at least a decade, on and off, and even though San Diego 2000 was one of the "off" times, it's not bright red now, as a look at any of the photos I've posted on here will show you.)

Later that night, I found myself sitting opposite Paul and amongst such topics of conversation as shoes and 100 Bullets, he told me about his new project, which sounds pretty fucking cool, but, y'know, I can't talk about it. I'm not saying that to sound Big and Clever, but because he asked me not to. So I won't. But I'm excited about it.

Also on Saturday, I had a bizarre encounter with someone whose work I like. I was looking for Heidi, and found her talking to Jessica Abel. I was wearing my Paul Frank Lucha Libre t-shirt, and when Jessica spotted it, she said, "Oh, those aren't real Lucha Libre masks." She pronounced it as "looka leebray".

Well, I thought, I haven't even been introduced to this woman and she's already dismissing me as a trendy wannabe. Anyway, isn't it pronounced "loocha leebray"? Well, she did live in Mexico, so maybe she does know what she's talking about.

Well, even so, I couldn't resist pulling an ace out of my sleeve. "So, Heidi," I said. "Did I tell you that when my mum first saw this t-shirt after I got back from staying with you in New York, she told me we had some of these masks knocking around the place, and she didn't even realise they were Mexican? She thought they were Chinese! I guess my granny must have bought them before they left Mexico..."

As you might imagine, that rather put the dampener on anyone dismissing me as a wannabe. (My grandparents lived in Mexico for the best part of ten years and it's where my mother was born.) To be rather snarky about it, I'm no more of a wannabe than anyone else, and at least I know how to pronounce "Lucha Libre". And if the images on my t-shirt aren't "real" wrestling masks, then how does that make the ones on her Mexican wrestling poster any more authentic? Of course they aren't "real". It's a design. That's like getting worked up because people think that she actually is Artbabe -- that's a design, too.

Still, despite that rather strained encounter with her, I remain a fan of her work. But her husband was far more charming to talk to.

Small Press Expo

2003-10-16T19:52:00.000-04:00

As promised weeks ago, a report of SPX. Since I can't be bothered to write it all out again, you can read the one I wrote for Sequential Tart (make sure you hover your cursor over all the names of comics and publishers, or you'll miss some links to good stuff that deserves a plug). Some photos which Ed took of Friday night's Big Gay Dinner are here. And I still know what to do with my beer.

There are a couple more stories which didn't make it into my report, but you'll have to wait for those because this weekend I am going to Hell. Literally.

one night in Virginia

2003-10-16T19:51:00.000-04:00

Boston was rainy the day I left, so I forked out for a cab to the airport. (I should have said I was a student at Tufts, as they get a set fare, which is cheaper than the metered rate.) Once again, I had a loquacious cab driver, who kept a constant stream of chatter going. He was the literal cabbie cliche, telling me all about the people he'd had in the back of his cab ("One time, one of them answered the door in her negligee..."), which would've been more entertaining if I'd had more sleep, but thanks to the antics of that darn cat, I was too sleep-deprived to pay much attention.

My flight to Dulles was incident free, except when the zipper on my cardigan set off the detectors at Logan airport. Once at Dulles, it took a while before I discovered that my hotel did not have a shuttle from Dulles, so I had to catch a bus to the Metro and make my own way to the hotel, which meant getting another bus. I got there eventually, exhausted, only to discover the hotel had no record of my booking. When they eventually sorted my room out -- by which point, I had almost passed out on the lobby's sofa -- I did not get the kingsize bed I had booked, but I was too tired to care. I tried to nap, but got too hungry so after a shower I went to find food. The hotel was practically in the middle of the freeway, and there was nowhere nearby to eat. I walked until it started getting too dark to see -- the nicest thing I saw all day was the sunset, but I turned and went back because I didn't want to walk back to the hotel in the dark, mostly because I didn't want my flip-flopped feet to deal with the cockroaches I'd spotted earlier on my walk.

Dinner was weird. I was ravenous, so I had to pay ten bucks for a tuna melt, which was the cheapest meal-like thing on the hotel menu. It came with cold fries but I was too hungry to complain. Eating was a distinctly uncomfortable experience, too, as the maitre d' stuck me alone in a corner with my back to everything -- I assume for privacy. However, the waitress kept pacing past my table and asking if everything was okay. I just said yes to get her out of my way.

Initially I had made vague plans to hang out in the hotel bar and chat to whomever else was there, but was too tired and creeped out by the other hotel guests. So I went back up to my room to discover I had The Noisiest Family On Earth next door to me. They had their television on so loud that it made my bed vibrate, even though it was on the other side of the room. I guess I should have complained, especially as the staff kept saying that my comfort was the most important thing and that any complaints will be dealt with to ensure my comfort, but I was just too tired to deal with it, having hardly slept all week.

Not the most auspicious night of my life.

culture and shopping

2003-10-16T17:54:00.000-04:00

Boston, Day the Eighth:
Actually, I didn't spend it in Boston; I went to Salem and wandered around the Peabody Essex Museum all afternoon. It's a wonderful place; rooms are arranged by culture and country rather than strictly chronologically, so you actually get some ancient context for the contemporary art and vice versa. They have a fascinating variety of artefacts and fine art, housed in a beautifully designed building. The rest of central Salem was a bit of a let-down after that. Granted, much of it was already closed, apart from some tacky tourist stores and a couple of antique shops, but it seemed a little gloomy and dull after the vibrancy of the museum. I was glad to get the train back to North Station and go back to Davis Square. Spent a really nice evening watching the world go by from a window seat at the Diesel Cafe, and browsing McIntyre and Moore. Didn't get a whole lot of sleep, though, due to that darn cat.

Day the Ninth:
I was supposed to meet my friend Alex at South Station, but I ended up waiting an hour, feeling like I was a bit of a dodgy lech for eyeing up all the women who resembled her. Turned out she was waiting for me at the bus station, and had given up after an hour, too. Still, at least I was sitting in a pretty place (South Station's commuter clientele is to North Station's commuters what Victoria Station is to Charing Cross, back in London, ie. more affluent and intellectual and, well, cleaner. I didn't see the trains, though). Spent the rest of the day wandering around the shops alone as Alex and I had no way of rearranging another hook-up. Naturally, the first stop was the original Filene's Basement, but after that, I just meandered around with no particular place to go.

Spent my last night in Boston in the company of Miss Jen, as the person I had made plans with was, like Alex, unable to make it. Jen and I ate way too much food at Joshua Tree and drank lots of lovely Belhaven there, before staggering across the road to The Burren for even more. (An aside: I still haven't figured out why Belhaven seems to be almost a "local" beer in Boston -- it's in most of the bars I've visited in Boston, but I've never seen it anywhere else in America. More to the point, I've never seen it in any pubs in the UK, and it's a Scottish beer. Weird.) Even without the company of the big Red Sox fan, there was no escaping the Red Sox game on the televisions. So far in this country's bars there is no escape from the Red Sox. I can think of at least two people who will be delighted to know that.

Back to Boston

2003-10-15T17:32:00.000-04:00

Back in Boston, Day the Sixth:
Due to overtiredness, the trip to the seaside was cancelled, much to my disappointment. Instead, Jen and I mooched around Davis and Porter Squares, but -- after waking up late, and attempting to eat the largest omelettes I have ever seen in my entire life over brunch at Orleans -- that was the extent of our ambition for the day. Well, it was Sunday.

Day the Seventh:
Another day of mooching with Jen, this time around the fun stores in Harvard. We ate another lunch of huge proportions at the Greenhouse Coffe Shop, a Harvard Square institution. The size of the triple-layer cakes has to be seen to be believed, and many of the other portions are gigantic too -- for a very low price. Definitely worth going back for, if only for the people-watching. We were also unable to resist trying a selection of gourmet chocolates from LA Burdick. If I hadn't been so full of lunch, I would have eaten my way through a number of their delicious-looking pastries, too.

Food is good in Boston. No wonder I miss it so much.

insomnia, pulp and hypoglycemia

2003-10-11T18:22:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned at the time, I didn't sleep after we got back from the bar. As a result, I spent the rest of the weekend in a daze. I just about managed to drag my feet along to the main purpose of our visit that weekend, Pulp Art: Vamps, Villains and Victors from the Robert Lesser Collection, which was well worth a looksee. Unfortunately, we timed our visit with the guided tour, which was given by an increasingly loud woman with The Most Grating Voice In The World. We decided to look at the paintings out of order, to escape her nasal utterances, but no matter where in the rooms we were, The Most Grating Voice In The World found its way towards us. There was no escape. This marred what was otherwise a wonderful exhibition, though it actually wasn't the only thing which marred our enjoyment. For some obscure reason, many of the smaller paintings had been hung way up high on the walls, so that those of us of short stature, and even those who were not, couldn't really get a proper look at the artwork. Apart from that, it was marvelous to see it all at close quarters, and fascinating to see how the colours changed in the printing process.

When the museum closed, we dragged ourselves down to the East Side to find somewhere to eat before I passed out from hypoglycemia. By chance, we ended up at Stingy Lulu's, which I had been wanting to visit for a while, but had forgotten about. We were joined for drinks by the Martinroys, who wandered down to Canal Street with us. Wandering through the East Village on a Saturday night inspired Lauren and I to invent a new game: Hipster Mumblety Peg. The Martinroys saw us off on the Fung Wah, which got stuck in a traffic jam all the way to the pit-stop it makes in Connecticut. People understandably bitched and groused about the snail's pace, but soon shut up when we passed a couple of ambulances, a police car and a horrifically mauled wreck of a car.

We made it back to Boston at some small hour of the morning, and were looking for a cab when we were accosted by two men with very thick Indian accents who wanted directions to their hostel which was some distance away. I was almost too tired to even open my mouth, as I hadn't slept on the bus either, so it took a while and a great deal of patience from DDP to help them. I was ready to pass out in the cab, but we had a very friendly driver who wanted to regale us with his theories about the constant rerouting and roadworks in Boston. According to him, it was nothing to do with the Big Dig, but was actually an experiment conducted by MiT, using closed circuit television. He seemed to make sense at the time, and his argument was rather persuasive, but maybe that was just because I was so tired.

"New York's a-go-go and everything tastes nice"

2003-10-11T17:44:00.000-04:00

After three days in Boston, there was a side trip to New York. Several hours trying to catch up on sleep on the Fung Wah bus, then a dazed wander through Chinatown and the Lower East Side. Despite my tiredness (am I always tired? Yes), as we walked in the direction of the Empire State Building, I was alert enough to notice one guy's outfit with admiration. It was kind of hard to miss him, really, as he was sporting a brilliant white wrestling leotard, adorned in red flames up the legs. Despite the fact that he was pigeon-chested, had very pale skin, the trouser legs of the leotard ended somewhere halfway up his calves, and he was sporting a visible panty line to boot, DDP and I were delighted that the first New York Personality we spotted on this trip was a superhero.

Since we'd boarded the bus before breakfast, we were hungry, so the first thing to do was find food. I wanted sushi, but DDP had just finished reading Gyo and, for some strange reason I just don't get, wasn't in the mood for sushi, so we settled for some cheap diner food, after which, it was off to Todd and Lauren's bijou but funky apartment in Williamsburg. The Martinroys (as we like to call them) are two of my very favouritest people in the whole wide world, you know, and it was just a charm just to sit in their living room watching old Simpsons episodes and catch up on their lives. I don't get to do that often enough.

Later, it was off to the Joshua Tree to meet some friends for drinks. It wasn't the first, or best, choice of venue (the air conditioning only worked in the toilets, and the waitress forgot a few drinks orders), but the SexFro was in town to work at the Big Apple Anime Fest and we didn't want him to get lost by straying too far from his midtown hotel. Also in attendance were Mike, Miller, Miss Reen and a bunch of other lovely people who you can see in these photos Lauren took. It was a great night, but once again, some people spent more time watching the Red Sox game on television, and once again there was Not Enough Damn Time To Talk To Everyone I Wanted To See. Dammit.

Though we did round off the night in a piano bar singing show tunes.

"Spread the news around, I'm Massachussets bound!"

2003-10-11T16:15:00.000-04:00

I do like Boston; it's probably one of my favourite cities. There's not really very much to say about what I did there, though, since it was pretty much the usual things: I ate crap food, I drank lots of beer, and I saw something of my friends -- though, in many cases, not nearly enough of them. Still, in the interests of completion, here's what I got up to:

Day the First:
Ate a couple of slices of greasy pizza at Mike's Restaurant in Davis Square, and drank Sam Adams at the Sligo. My Dining and Drinking Partner (whom I shall henceforth refer to as DDP) was rather more interested in the Red Sox game on the television screens in both places. I'd have been more offended if I hadn't been so tired.

Day the Second:
Said hi to James at Comicopia, who reminded us that it was his last week at the shop, and we should come to his goodbye drinks the following night. Had a Cuban buffet lunch, which was the first proper thing I'd managed to eat since living off bagels and corn chips, and then wandered off down Newbury Street. That evening, my fair hostess and I shared gossip over mojitos and martinis at Orleans.

Day the Third:
Spent the day wandering around the stores in Downtown Crossing. Was pleased to see that I remembered my way around the city pretty much without the aid of a map, and walked through Boston Common and back down Newbury Street to The Other Side Cosmic Cafe where DDP and I ate tuna melts and drank more Sam Adams, and were eavesdropped on by a dork with no dress sense -- not hipster grunge, not designer yuppie, more like the chess club nerd still wearing the same clothes ten years after he left college. He had a slick white iBook and was editing some live gig footage, but that didn't stop him from trying to butt in on our conversation -- which was awkward enough at certain points as it was. After that, on to Cornwalls for James' leaving-do. I was much amused by the mural of famous Britons on the wall (which I sadly can't find a picture of, or else I have no doubt you would be, too). Didn't really get to talk that much to James, as he was holding court telling everyone else about his experiences on Jeopardy, but it was nice to catch up with a couple of other Bostonians -- but I still didn't get to spend nearly enough time with most of them. The one thing I hate about my life is that there's never enough time to see everyone I want to.

Bleurgh

2003-09-25T20:06:00.000-04:00

Though, of course, I did have some kind of icky virus the next day which left me taking naps in the afternoon and unable to eat anything but corn chips and bagels for three days. I was still feeling pretty run-down when it was time for me to go to Boston, and I had to fly via Chicago O'Hare, which meant first I had to get there via bus from General Mitchell airport here in Milwaukee.

That wasn't so bad, because it meant that I got to pay a visit to one of the best things I've discovered in Milwaukee thus far: the airport's only bookstore sells second-hand books. Only second-hand books. And they have an amazing selection, especially of the vintage pulp paperbacks I adore. I picked up some vintage pulps "at vintage prices", as the man said when I went to pay -- three of them for less than ten bucks.

I'd read a third of Mrs. Mike before I'd even got on the plane. The copy I'd found had a classic pulp cover: romance with a hint of sin. A dark haired young woman lay supplicant on her back, gazing up with adoration at a swarthy fellow above her. I'd picked it up as a joke present for Jen; since it was about a young Boston girl who falls in love with a man named Mike, it seemed appropriate. It turned out to be nothing like as schmaltzy as I'd anticipated, and was actually a fascinating "true-life account" of what life was like in Canada at the beginning of the twentieth century, before the pioneers had made many inroads. (It's back in print, if you're curious. There's one chapter that involves a bear trap and a man's leg that was just about the most wince-inducing thing I've read all year.)

Once I was on the plane, it was delayed by a thunderstorm that left us all a little nervous while we waited to see what happened next. At least we weren't actually in the air when the lightning started flashing every two minutes or so, and it passed as soon as it had begun. I was glad when I got to Boston, though.

the Sheboygan County wedding

2003-09-25T17:59:00.000-04:00

It was a beautiful sunny day, one month ago, when Sharon took me to visit her childhood home. We left without breakfast, and arrived just in time to join in on the chicken-slaughter.

Oh, I didn't join in. That wouldn't be fair, since I wouldn't even be eating them (I eat fish, but not meat -- but I prefer not to deal with dead fish until it's been filleted and defaced for me, too). Sharon, however, was expected to join in as soon as she stepped out of the car. No time for breakfast, just straight to that table and start plucking. We'd arrived after the chickens had been beheaded, so I didn't even get to see that crazy effect where the chickens' nerves continue jumping, and the birds run around headless. Sharon's mother says that's a myth, anyway, and in all her years of farming, she's never seen that happen. I'm a bit disappointed by that.

Since I wasn't assisting with the plucking, there wasn't much else for me to do except lounge on the grass, scratch the dogs behind the ears, and listen to the family banter and bicker. Once in a while I had to follow after Sharon's youngest nephew, Levi, who is a toddling hunk with a deep fascination for all things involving water, and keep him away from the hosepipe that was filtering into the barrel with the chicken bodies in it. Blood and water, you know. Very symbolic.

"Are you a feet person?"

Someone wasn't plucking properly, and was leaving feathers and feet attached, much to everyone else's annoyance. I was grateful not to be involved, and even more grateful when they finished up and we had lunch.

After lunch, Sharon had to run a couple of errands, and we ended up at the local Wal-Mart, where her brother works. Sharon tried to persuade him that he should marry me so that I could have a green card and stay here longer. His response was that he would play along, since he had nothing better to do, and then he shooed us away from him because we were distracting him from his current task of putting all the ice cream away before it melted.

Sigh. Ousted from True Happiness by forty pints of ice cream. "Nothing better to do."

Back at the farm, we had a few hours to kill before we had to change for the wedding, so we took a relaxing dip in the pool with Levi and Dylan, his elder brother. This wasn't as sophisticated as it might sound. Sharon grew up in farm country, and the general ambiance of the lazy summer afternoon was somewhat spoiled by the overpowering smell of pigshit being sprayed across the fields of the farm next door. When the smell got too much, and Dylan got too cold, we took our cue, and began to get ready for the evening ahead.

Take one knee-length, 50s-style A-line skirt with slight flounce and large pink flowers, add one moss green tank top and a pair of matching moss green flip flops. Combine with some dark green (almost black) eyeliner and some pink lipstick, and then you're ready. Or I was. Nothing too way out or over the top, I assure you. I would not have looked out of place at any pub garden in the English countryside on a sunny Sunday afternoon. But I did look somewhat out of place when we arrived at the wedding reception. Not because I was underdressed -- far from it. In fact, I was overdressed, and so was Sharon, in her plain black cocktail dress and plain black shoes. This was a casual wedding. I always thought you couldn't get much more casual than any outfit which required flip-flops, but what do I know?

So, just on arrival, I had become That Girl. The fact that I had arrived with Sharon, and neither of us had a male date only encouraged the view that we were Those Girls. Of course, we did nothing to discourage this view, either. We both decided we were going to have some fun, to hell with whatever the people might say. I was especially vehement about this, because I knew I was never going to see them again, and I was damned if I was going to leave them with the lasting impression that everyone from Britain is a prissy killjoy with a stiff upper lip who doesn't know how to fun, like these people always saw on TV.

This doesn't mean I was rude, on the contrary. I was extra polite to everyone, because I see no reason to be obnoxious just because you're challenging peoples' views. But I couldn't resist throwing things into the conversation just to watch people boggle -- which isn't hard when the groom's family comes from the Ozarks, and the bride's from Sheboygan County. The bride was fun, though. A friend of Sharon's from high school, she had a naughty sensibility that instantly made me warm to her, and I was genuinely pleased to see her happy and wish her all the best on her wedding day, even though we'd never met before.

Despite the transatlantic difference -- and the cultural divide between my oh-so-cosmopolitan big city upbringing, and their Guns'N'Ammo farm-country lifestyles -- the general atmosphere of the wedding was much like any down-to-earth wedding that might be held in Essex or Cheshire or Devon. The DJs -- a married couple who brought their daughter and her boyfriend along, and who not-so-tastefully plugged their upcoming gigs at the county fair whilst the bride and groom were having their first dance together -- played all the classic cheesy songs that wedding DJs play at every corner of the western world, up to and including I Will Survive, which must be one of the least appropriate songs one could ever play at a wedding. Interestingly, the only people, aside from Sharon and myself, who were dancing to that song were the DJs' daughter and her boyfriend. The fact that he knew all the words and had made up a large number of dance moves to go along with them suggested to Sharon and myself that he must spend hours singing it with a hairbrush in front of the mirror at home. He was so dolly he had to be queer. But, y'know, from Sheboygan County. So, probably best not to mention anything. Probably best to snark about it under your breath, out of reach at the bar, over a sweet Old-Fashioned that you haven't paid for because the groom's brother is trying to impress you, even though he's too tired to keep his eyes open, except when they're boggling at you because you've just said something to shock him. Probably.

I love weddings.

some stories

2003-09-08T17:24:00.000-04:00

I have a lot of stuff to post about, so be sure to tune in over the next week for stories about:

the Sheboygan County wedding
travelling
hanging out with Miss Jen
fun in Boston
fun in New York
even more fun with hotels
SPX
and my fuckwittery

my socks life sucks

2003-09-03T16:17:00.000-04:00

I find it supremely ironic that it seems to be nigh on impossible to find a pair of plain red socks for sale anywhere in Boston. Doesn't anyone else find that ironic?

lazy

2003-09-01T12:54:00.000-04:00

I know, I know, I need to update more often. I've been kinda busy, though. And I have so many stories! They will come, but it'll be after SPX.

caffeine and blue drinks are a bad mix

2003-08-30T06:00:00.000-04:00

I'm in NYC for one night, staying with the ever-lovely, ever-lovin' Martinroys and I can't fucking sleep. Someone tell me why I thought drinking coffee at eight in the evening (I never usually drink it later than three in the afternoon), not to mention the infamous (for a bloody good reason) Ed Mathews Blue Cocktail, was a good idea? I can't fucking sleep! Did I mention that part already?

Milwaukee flashmob

2003-08-20T12:51:00.000-04:00

Milwaukee flashmob tries to organise piss-up in a brewery.

chicken gizzards and okra

2003-08-19T15:37:00.000-04:00

I haven't seen much of Milwaukee yet, apart from what I saw on the drive back from Chicago. There are a surprising number of churches with pretty spires, and a basilica which makes the skyline look interesting. I'm going to explore all those when I figure out the way. I'm trying to figure out the Milwaukee County Transit System, but at the moment I'm still not sure which routes I need to take to get anywhere from where I am right now.

So all I've seen so far is some of the suburbs we walked through on my second day here (this is my fourth). There are some really nice gardens, with unusual plants (red sunflowers!) and wildlife (bunnies!) to look at. Of course, there are plenty of gardens stocked with kitsch Americana, as well. Some of those are worth a photo-project or two.

As are the stores along North Ave. There are a couple of tacky wig shops which Sharon and I agreed we had to visit again when they were open, and an African costume shop that has some pretty scary mannequins. A couple of them had been damaged in the face, and they looked like zombies. There seem to be a lot of scary mannequins in the stores on North Ave.

Halfway along North Ave, Milwaukee stops and Wauwatosa (aka Tosa) starts. I noticed immediately that the area was more expensive. The sidewalks have two-tone chequerboard paving, and there are benches placed at random corners. Natural therapy establishments take the place of hardware stores, and you start spotting tatooed hipsters in jeeps. There's no sign or border or anything, but you can't miss it.

On the way back, we found a shop offering "fryed chicken gizzards and okra", but it was closed up. Closed up in a forever kind of way, much to Sharon's disappointment.

Sharon was also disappointed that we couldn't find an ice cream truck on her travels, though she kept hearing one. Each time it was something else, though. A distant phone, a car radio, some old Chinese man out on his porch playing some kind of bamboo bagpipes. It was a strange-looking instrument and it made a strange wailing kind of noise, but we didn't like to stare too much, since he was just chilling on his porch and it seemed kind of rude.

Before we made it back inside the house, we ended up talking to some of the neighbours. They were celebrating someone's birthday and had all got somewhat toasted in the afternoon sun. They all thought I was Canadian, so of course when they found out I was from London, I had to keep repeating myself so that they could hear my funny accent. I suppose I should be used to that by now...

Have a nice day?

2003-08-19T13:36:00.000-04:00

I'm back in America again. There was a moment when I thought I would never make it. Worst. Flight. Ever. Well, kinda.

Didn't get the window seat I'd booked because of the re-routing and re-scheduling everyone did after the East Coast blackout, so I got stuck right in the middle of the middle row instead, with two people on either side of me. I hadn't slept at all the previous night, and was exhausted, and I fell asleep before we even started taxiing on the runway. I woke up halfway through take-off, and was slightly disorientated. I had been dreaming that I was on a plane, so that wasn't too bad, but in my dream I had a different travel companion sitting next to me, so that threw me off a bit.

I tried to sleep as much as possible through the flight, which was difficult with some kid kicking my chair most of the time. I'd have asked her not to, like I usually do, except that she was sitting on her mum's lap, and since the mother hadn't said anything about it, I got the impression if I did, it might cause ructions. And I was too tired to fight. I managed to sleep pretty well, considering there was that, and that the guy next to me kept snoring and farting.

Coming off the plane I had extremely low blood sugar. I'd hardly eaten for about 20 hours because the food on the plane was so nasty -- I ordered vegetarian; they gave me curry for lunch. I'm pretty picky about curry anyway, but I certainly don't want to eat it on a long haul flight. When everyone else got crisps and chocolate for a snack, I got salad. Gee, thanks. They gave me ice cream at lunch like everyone else, why not crisps and chocolate, too? Because what I really needed right then was something to up the blood sugar and saline levels in my body, not bloody lettuce.

I think the stewardesses chose to ignore me after I hadn't touched any of my food, because when I tried to buzz someone to get a new visa waiver form, no one came at all. I figured I'd fill one out in the immigration hall at O'Hare, but there were no English language forms available. I had to fill out one of the Spanish forms instead.

Then I had to wait two hours just to get down the line to the passport control counter. And then I had to wait in the immigration offices to get interviewed. And then I had to answer questions about why I visit America so much. I even had a copy of my bank statement to prove I had enough money to cover my stay, as I'd been recommended at my last interview with US immigration in Detroit three years ago, but both officers barely glimpsed at it. Fortunately, when the officer found out that Sharon was waiting for me (and the poor thing had been there since 45 minutes before the plane was even due to touch down), he went and questioned her. Came right back, let me straight through.

Though by the time that was all over, no one knew where my bag was. I asked about ten different people, and it was at this point that I really started to panic. I'd been calm the entire time I was waiting to get through immigration. Stressed at the inconvenience like everyone else, sure, but I never really entered manic panic mode. When I couldn't find my bag, or anyone to help me, I almost broke down in tears. To calm myself down, I went to wash my face, but that only worked for the first three people I asked on my second trek around the baggage claim. By the time I found someone else to ask, I could feel my hysteria rising again. Luckily, this guy had an answer and found someone who had my bag. So that was all right.

But then I had to find Sharon, and that took me another little while. All in all, it took me FOUR HOURS to get out of the aiport.

So, not really a good flight. And to cap it off, I the worst jetlag I've had in years.

2003-05-27T12:23:00.001-04:00

A month ago, I spent six days in New York City, and it was fantastic.

H u n g o u t w i t h s o m e s u p e r c o o l p e o p l e, d i d l o t s o f s u p e r f u n t h i n g s. H a d a b r i l l i a n t t i m e.

I can't wait to go back.

(More photos to be found here, here, here and he re)

2003-02-18T10:03:00.000-05:00

This makes me glad I'm not in NYC today.

2003-01-14T06:49:00.000-05:00

Tales of New York will be coming when I get the time to write 'em up, fret not. Things are just a bit manic this month, what with being back at work, and flat-hunting and moving and all...

2003-01-11T18:09:00.000-05:00

Eurgh, jetlag sucks.

2003-01-08T15:00:00.000-05:00

No time to write more now. Must get to the airport for my flight home. You can read a bit about Saturday's fun on Fugue State, though.

I can't get over at all the snow that's going greet me back in London!

2003-01-08T14:55:00.000-05:00

First night in NYC: dinner and beer at the Park Slope Ale House (yummy crab cakes which tasted just like mother's). Friday I chilled out at the apartment, wandered around the locality a bit and did laundry. Yay for clean clothes.

Friday night, back to the Park Slope Ale House for more beer and socialising with Mike, Josh, Phil, and the haunted jukebox that never played my Elvis selection, but it did pull up this completely unexpectedly out of the blue, during a conversation about finances. It kept doing stuff like that all night.

2003-01-08T14:47:00.000-05:00

Last day in Boston: C-O-L-D. The bus driver didn't put the heating on until we made a stop somewhere in Connecticut and someone kicked up a fuss. Missed Mike because he was waiting at the other stop (there are two stops! Who knew?) but luckily he'd emailed me detailed directions to his apartment. I made it to the door and rang the bell, but no answer. I was just looking around for the nearest phonebox when some random guy wandered up and asked if I was Anna. Okay, not random guy: Mike's roommate Christopher. So that was swell. Their apartment is a great pad, and nice and toastywarm too.

2003-01-07T11:13:00.000-05:00

Most of the museums were closed again on New Year's Day, though, which sucked. So I didn't get to the MIT Museum, but I did visit the Gardner, which was free, and pretty fun. Clearly an example of OCD, but fun. The constant rain, however, was not much fun. I got drenched through and had to sit inside Prudential Center to dry off, where a cute guy tried to chat me up by talking about his new bag and the weather. I should've stayed to talk, but malls depress me, especially when all the shops are closed, and I wanted hot drinks and food. So I braved the elements again, and wandered along Newbury Street trying to find a place that was open and affordable. This is harder than you'd think on New Year's Day, but if you're ever stuck in Boston on a rainy new year's day and you're in need of sustenance, remember that the Trident is open until midnight. I didn't stay there that long, though, as I went to meet Sally, Paul and Nathan for drinks in Cambridge, which was fun. Conversations about weird dreams and freaky habits, and lots of lovely beer; a delightful way to spend my last evening in Boston. Thanks kids!

2003-01-07T11:11:00.000-05:00

I spent New Year's Eve (and Phil's birthday) in Cambridge eating too much, watching a double episode of Buffy ("She's rocking her image hobo style!") and playing Captain Park's Imaginary Polar Expedition, though we cheated a bit because otherwise it would have taken too long. A quiet night, but fun. New year's eve always goes better if there's no big plan.

2003-01-07T11:10:00.000-05:00

So, I went to Chinatown and I realised I didn't have any money to buy my ticket to New York. I asked the woman at the ticket office where the nearest ATM was, and she pointed directly across the street.

"No, that one's closed," I told her.

She pointed again. "Up there. Secon' floor."

So, I crossed the street and went into this building next door to the bank. I got into the lift. Everyone else was Chinese and didn't speak English. I had to remind myself for a moment that I was still in America. (Clearly, I needed more coffee.)

I got to the second floor, and was the only person to get out of the lift. The corridor smelt strongly of disinfectant and there was no ATM to be seen. There was an office with Wells Fargo signs on the door, but it only dealt with mortgages, and it was closed anyway. The only room open on the entire floor was the one with the reek of disinfectant coming out of it. That it was a martial arts company was a little worrying -- lot of blood spilled there, last night, was there?

Anyway, I couldn't get any money there, so I trecked back up to the shopping area around Downtown Crossing, which resembles the main shopping areas in Birmingham and Manchester, which seemed slightly odd until I realised all the buildings there were the same age as the ones in Birmingham and Manchester...

Then back to get my bus ticket, which cost me a grand twenty-five dollars. Nice. After that, I spent a while in the World Famous Filene's Basement, where I bought new underwear. Is there anything nicer than putting on new socks for the first time, especially when you're living out of a bag and most of your clothes need washing? Bliss.

2003-01-06T22:49:00.000-05:00

Still too busy BREATHING UNDERWATER. So I'm sure you'll be amazed at the quality of my pictures (check the Boston and NYC folders, natch).

2003-01-05T20:58:00.000-05:00

In the meantime, more pictures of the drunken shenanigans in Boston are here. I look stressed or verrrrry Jewish in the ones of me. Bah. I console myself that everyone else looks pretty far gone also.

2003-01-05T18:59:00.000-05:00

Sorry I haven't updated yet. I've been too busy BREATHING UNDERWATER. (Well, that excuse worked for Brendan)

2002-12-31T13:14:00.000-05:00

Started yesterday off better; had brunch at Zaftig's, providers of the ultimate Jewish comfort food. The Zaftig Combo platter filled me up for the whole day, so walking around downtown was more bearable. The milder weather didn't hurt, either. I actually wanted to look at some art, but all the art galleries and museums are closed on Mondays. (Stupid!)

Was accosted by some old guy outside Government Center station, who wanted to give me a "free glorb". It was only because he was waving copies of the Boston Globe (which was being offered as a complimentary around town) in his hand that I realised he just had a really strorng Borston accent. It's broader than Noo Yawk.

It took looking through about six different guidebooks to find a mention of Bukowski's Tavern, which I wanted directions to because I'd arranged to meet Sally and Paul there. I finally found a mention of it in Let's Go Boston, which also gave great directions. This time I found it perfectly and was even on time. I'm kinda surprised at how obscure the place is, since it seems like the kind of venue that would be very popular with the guidebooks, especially the off-the-beaten-track hipper-than-thou ones. It's kind of hip, in a lowbrow wannabe white trash kind of way, though I couldn't help but think that if a real dirty old man barfly showed up to drink there, he'd be showed the door. Our waitress was weird, or wired. She kept giving us this rictus grin when she was taking our orders. Either she was cranked up and trying not to grind her teeth, or she'd been told by the manager to muster up a smile for the customers. Certainly from the distance of the bar, it would have looked like she was being cheerful, but right underneath it, it was just creepy. We preferred her solemn face where she just looked pissed-off, it was less scary.

If you get there before 8:00pm, most of the burgers are less than two bucks. The salmon burger was good, too, though the mashed potato was a little bland; I had to add salt and I don't usually like extra salt in my food. Still, for 90 cents, I'm really not complaining.

I'm off out now, to try and get a seat on the Chinatown bus on Thursday. Which is of course the day the weather forecast predicts snow and wind. Oh joy.

2002-12-29T21:27:00.000-05:00

Had a bloody bad day today. Exhausted and utterly drained for some reason, so I kept getting lost and going in completely the wrong direction on perfectly straightfoward routes that I should already be familiar with by now, which made me late to meet people for a late brunch at Ryles. I must have looked pretty bad, because one sweet guy asked me with great concern if I was okay when I was on the trolleycar. Actually, at that moment, I just had my head tilted back because my sinuses were hurting, but "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "You look so sad." I reassured him I was fine -- which I was. Hungry, and pissed off at myself for taking a stupid wrong turn and making myself even later, but I was okay. It was only after I eventually made it to Ryles, only to discover no one was there anymore, that my day went downhill.

The woman who greeted me at the door when I poked my head around to see if there was any sign of the others was a complete bitch. "Brunch was over ages ago," she sneered as she looked me up and down. Fuck you, too, I thought as I left, feeling pissed off, stupid and hungry. Then my subway token token got eaten but the turnstile wouldn't let me onto the platform, which just pissed me off even more. So I went for a walk up around Cambridge and around Harvard a bit, but ended up overheating in the basement of the Harvard Bookstore, which was so ridiculously warm I had to wait until the nausea passed before I could muster up the energy just to climb back up the stairs.

After that, I barely had any energy to walk around, and a browse through Urban Outfitters took a whole hour, though I didn't realise it at the time. And not because there was so much worth looking at; I'd just slowed up.

And the students are coming back into town after Christmas with their families, and so many of them are just horrible stuck-up little brats. I had two girls giving me the evil eye because in my tired state I'd actually >gasp!< looked a little too long at them, and as I walked down the platform, I could hear one of them tell the other that my pants were too short. I should point out that I have short legs and all my jeans are actually too long.

So, yeah. I was in a pissy mood. And then the stupid key got stuck in the stupid lock and the stupid barrel wouldn't turn because the stupid door is stupid and I my hands were cold and eventually I made it inside, but right now, I want my warm bed in my warm flat away from all the snow and all the nasty people.

I think maybe the Boston honeymoon is over. Unless it treats me nicer tomorrow. Anyway, have some photographic evidence of last night, as provided by the lovely Charlotte [Edit: you should be able to scroll through the slideshow to see all the pictures, but here are some with comments]:

Me, James and Elvis Those things in my beer are blueberries; it's Bluebeery Ale (yeah, I know, sounds bad. It's not. It's good.) They provide a funky lavalamp effect for your fellow drinkers to watch.
Me and Charlotte. I need batteries for my stupid camera, which has a ridiculously small viewfinder, hence the squint.
Andrea, me, Dietsch and Charlotte. I don't know why my eyes are so far back in my head. Maybe I was practicing my being-possessed-by-the-devil look for the trip to Salem that didn't happen because SG's car got a flat tyre. Or maybe it was a counterpoint to all that praying Phil was doing!
Sally Pickles, Sharon, Mike T, Mike D and JOSH This table in the corner of the bar was referred to as the Satellite of Love all night.
the irrepresible James He wasn't even drunk! He showed up to the bar in a suit, with his overcoat draped over his shoulders, and gloves, looking like he'd just come from a high-powered business meeting.

2002-12-29T13:18:00.000-05:00

So, I was on the subway to go to the planned drink-up at the Boston Beer Works last night, when the driver tells us over the intercom, "For those of you exiting at Park Street, I can't tell you what a pleasure it has been to travel with you. I really can't. It's a secret. Thank you for being in my world. I know it's only been one stop, but I'll treasure it forever."

All of this said in a downtempo but slightly cheesy tone, like a late-night radio DJ crossed with a gameshow host. The rest of my trip was filled with cornball jokes that would have been really groanworthy at a stand-up gig, but were hilarious because of the incongruity of where we were. The whole carriage was the perfect captive audience for his tired old jokes; everyone stopped talking to hear what he had to say, apart from the guy behind me, who was only telling his friends that he'd had the same driver once before, but the routine had been different that time. The driver's jokes may have been corny, but his timing was impeccable. "Y'know folks, a thought just occurred to me..." he said as we left a station. He maintained radio silence on that thought all the way up to the next station, and everyone was on the edge of their seats to hear what that thought might have been.

Sadly, we were at Kenmore station, which was my stop, so I never did find out.

2002-12-29T13:09:00.000-05:00

I keep seeing adverts on the subway for Vinergy. It's caffeinated champagne. Think about that for a little while.

The illustrations are cute, though. But I'm not too sure about their practice of applying the name to all their cocktails or drinking methods. I'm sticking with a regular mojito, thank you.

2002-12-27T22:51:00.000-05:00

Did some touristy stuff today. Met Seattle Phil and James at Comicopia, and then Phil and I hung out for the day. Picked up the Six String Samurai soundtrack and a preview copy of Back to Mine compiled by the "originators of the back-to-mine sounds" (according to several results on google) from Nuggets, a used record store (see? I should rename this site Unconscious Americanisms) just up from Comicopia. Then a late lunch at the Trident and a stroll along Newbury Street, which goes from sort of hip and faux-bohemian through to standard middle class Main Street America (Gap, FCUK, etc) down to the designer stores where the bagels cost more than a pair of shoes. Popped into the Gargoyle Store at #262, then up to the Skywalk at the Pru (which is kinda neat, but not as cool as having a Skyscraper Martini at the Signature Lounge in Chicago, which is one of my favourite places to drink in the world).

After that, a stroll through town to Faneuil Hall, which is as good an example of foodcourt multiculturalism as you're gonna get -- if there's one thing America does better than the UK, it's definitely food courts. On the whole, you can actually eat at them. (The other great contribution to world culture is brunch, though actually it's apparently awkward to find diners in Boston.) Over some fresh cookies, Phil and I chatted about places we'd visited in America until a homeless guy interrupted us.

"Why you being a bitch?" he asked Phil. "Don't be a bitch and let her talk to you like a bitch, man. It's pissing me off. I can't eat. Stop being a bitch and tell her what you want."

"So, Phil, what is it you want?"

"Um," said Phil. "I want another cookie."

"Then you shall have another cookie," I said, offering the bag to him.

"Damn straight," said the homeless guy. "Now I can eat."

2002-12-27T12:09:00.000-05:00

I was watching MTV last night, and some dumb teenage rawk band were introducing new material for 2003. Included, back-to-back, were the video for Let's Push Things Forward by The Streets and Dy-na-mi-tee by Miss Dynamite. It made me feel a little weird, especially with The Streets' video, because it's so full of British references. The juxtaposition got to me. It's strange to see English culture (by which, I do mean England, not Britain) being viewed as the next cool thing in America, because in the UK, no matter how much the media still clings to the notion of Britpopular, it's still Americana that is popular -- on music shows and yoof TV, anyway.

2002-12-27T11:27:00.000-05:00

I'd forgotten how sappy packaging in America can be. According to the tub of Philadelphia I have sitting in front of me, There's always room to express yourself. It also recommends that I find something that helps me slip into relaxation. I'm encouraged to share treats with my neighbour, but save enough for myself. Yeah, whatever. The best one is recommending that I find a comfortable place I can rest for the price of a cup of coffee, though, y'know, I try to do that when I'm travelling around anyway.

I saw an advert for this on TV last night. If they happen to show the ad on the site, it's worth checking out; it's hilarious, especially the bit near the end where the voiceover guy exclaims that he brought some home for his wife.

2002-12-26T22:04:00.000-05:00

Dear Pete,

I am not as OCD as all that; and yes, I trust you! And yes, the kitchen does look nicer. Though probably because it's not got so many people tearing through it and is therefore easier to keep clean...Thanks for reminding me that I didn't tidy my room before I left, and have that to look forward to on my return! I hope the neighbours have calmed down over the leaks.

Good clam chowder is like the best comfort food ever, so I'll have a go making some when I get home.

Hope you're enjoying the calm before the storm of everyone's return!

Love,

Anna

ps
It's so cold here I'm actually going to be glad to get back to my icebox bedroom!

2002-12-26T21:07:00.000-05:00

The curves and ripples seem to show up a lot in Boston architecture, too. Apartment blocks often have rounded out front windows instead of flat square surfaces, and there are several crescents, which is not something you often see much of outside of Georgian towns in England, although these ones are red brick rather than white plaster. It's completely distinctive and not much like anywhere else I've seen. I like it. Some examples of what I mean here.

2002-12-26T20:36:00.000-05:00

No high drama as far as the cats were concerned, though Roscoe is still Mr Miffed-at-the-weather. No high drama as far as anything else was concerned, either. Today was pretty nice and relaxed. SG and I went to see one of her earlier suggestions, the Mapparium, at the Mary Baker Eddy Library. It's a beautiful building, though the staff were all a little odd towards us. Maybe they could tell we weren't Christian Scientists (though my granny's parents were, actually), but they all treated us like they wanted to keep us at arms' length and get rid of us as fast as possible. Which just seemed like a weird atittude for Christians to take (although the the attempts to propagandise and convert were kept to a minimum as well, so I guess we shouldn't complain).

Unfortunately, I can't find any decent pictures of the building to show you. The ones on their website are poor reproductions as far as colour and composition are concerned, and make the place look tacky. Try to imagine much more subtle shapes and colours. The Hall of Ideas was a really soothing place to chill out for ten minutes, and they have these neat armchairs that have little wooden platters attached to the armrests, which swivel around so you can use them as a table. The building was filled with neat touches like that, and an amazing wood-panelled mailbox that was attached to a mailchute upstairs, which was cool.

The acoustics inside the Mapparium are really disconcerting; stand in the middle and hear your voice echo back to you like it's been recorded. Unfortunately, after a slightly naff aural presentation, you only get six minutes to actually look at the map, which is a bit disappointing, especially when it costs $5 to get into the building. The exhibition upstairs, which we didn't really have enough time to look at in depth, is presented in a really cool way. There are computer screens to provide information, which is pretty standard these days, but these are encased in copper shells that look like old radio equipment from the 30s. They also have a different set of equally cool chairs there; based on geometric shapes, and a row of seats in one room that ripple around in a semi-circle. Panels and room dividers are all done on curves and ripple effects which is quite misleading to the eye, and can be a little disorientating. It doesn't help that display cases are full of objects displayed at disjointed angles, like that scene in Disney's version of Alice in Wonderland, where Alice is falling down the rabbit hole. No wonder then that one of the few books on sale in the gift shop was Lewis Carroll's opus. If you ever get to Boston, then remember the building is worth a look, especially if you're an architecture or interior design geek. And the women's toilets have to be seen to be believed!

2002-12-25T23:35:00.000-05:00

SG has four cats. Two live upstairs, two live downstairs and preferably never the twain shall meet unless you have protective clothing. All of them have distinctly different personalities. Muffy and Roscoe, the two downstairs cats, both have different attitudes towards me. Muffy likes lying on my clothes and bedding, but woe betide me if I try to stroke her. Roscoe is friendlier, although right now he's very pissed off at the weather. He wants to go outside, and keeps yowling to be let out, but as soon as you try to let him outside he wants back in again. He seems to have given into the notion that it's just not going to happen, but I have no idea whether he'll retain this philosophy all night. I wonder if he does know how to use the litter tray...?

This doesn't seem like a very interesting thing to post about, but it could be the start of what might turn into high drama tomorrow.

In other news, Lorna rocks, and not just because she bought me something off my wishlist.

2002-12-25T19:01:00.000-05:00

Lots and lots of snow. It just took more than ten minutes to drive around the block. And it's still coming down. No cinema trip for us. We're gonna stay in and watch the Powerpuff Girls movie instead.

2002-12-25T15:40:00.000-05:00

Lots of rain.

2002-12-25T11:21:00.000-05:00

Well, the snow, which barely dusted the roof of the house next door, has turned to rain.

2002-12-24T22:05:00.000-05:00

Brr! Cold. Apparently it's going to snow tomorrow. Didn't do much today, because I wanted to relax, so I don't have much to post about, just random things I noticed.

I've automatically and unconsciously dropped into using American terms instead of British ones already. I say 'store' instead of 'shop'. I say 'sneakers' and 'restrooms'. I say 'cough drops'. The unconscious transatlantic tinge to my accent has come back, too. I'm probably going to have the piss ripped mercilessly out of me when I get back to London. Ah well. What's new there?

They have timers on the crosswalks in Boston. Instead of a symbol of a man walking, the numbers count down in seconds so you know how much longer you have the right of way. This is more logical than the streets themselves, which aren't quite as much on the typical grid that most of America is, but more shambling and disjointed like the UK. Wandering around SG's neighbourhood, I went the opposite way to where I wanted to get to, but it did mean I saw the amusing sign at Devotion Street.

We tried to get a spare key cut today, but none of the spares worked. The first place we went to gave SG a Boston creme donut to make up for it, which doesn't exactly let me in and out as I please, but hey. Boston creme in Boston. I'd forgotten about that. And New England clam chowder. That's right, I'm in New England. That hadn't actually occurred to me properly until then. Also, the kid in the hardware store was wearing a chunky shirt and a beaten-up baseball cap on top of his curly hair, and the speakers were playing FM rawk, and the whole thing struck me as being ridiculously cliched Americana; like something off a television advert from the 80s.

I haven't seen much of Boston, yet, but I like what I've seen so far. There seem to be lots of gourmet supermarkets and wholefood places in the neighbourhood, and most people have been genuinely friendly. So today was nice.

I bought myself a birthday present, too: Pink Think by Lynn Peril. I've not looked at her Mystery Date site for ages, but I remember it being fun, and this book looks like it'll be interesting. People often ask why I like the colour pink because it's not something they would usually associate with me; maybe it'll all become clearer after I've read the book. And now, soup. It's cold. Brr.

2002-12-23T20:11:00.000-05:00

Well, I made it to Boston, though I've been pretty brainfried all day. I forgot that passport control at Heathrow would be where my time was slowed up because of the extra security controls, and the Heathrow Express was running a little slow too. I still can't get over the fact that they have laminated emergency procedure cards in the pockets at the back of every seat on the train, even though the journey only takes 15 minutes. As for the grafitti somewhere past the Westway that proclaimed "NO" in stark black letters, well I chose not to see that as an omen, but I didn't have any time for Duty Free shopping because all the queues were horrendous and I needed to get some greenbacks before I got on the plane.

When I heard them paging "Mrs Madrid", I had a suspicion there was an emergency somewhere in the airport, and I was slightly amused by the possibility that I was right. I know, it's not good to gloat about other peoples' emergencies, but I also had a suspicion that nobody else shared my initial suspicion and that made me a little smug for a little moment.

Someone's father was wearing a long denim skirt at the boarding-gate and he managed to carry it off so that nobody batted an eye. One of the flight attendants looked like Al Gore's younger, gayer brother, and all of them were wearing Christmas hats and an air of desperate jollity that was slightly unnerving.

As I climbed the steps up to the plane, Rip It Up by Orange Juice popped into my head for no discernible reason, and I was humming it all the way to my newly allocated window seat. Maybe it was because I was all decked out in matching orange t-shirt, sweater and belt (and socks!) so SG would spot me easily when she came to meet me at Logan Airport.

Managed to catch up a little on sleep on the plane, but the food sucked (even the Kit-Kat was the American kind, not the British kind. Blech!), so I barely ate anything which made my blood sugar plummet. Combined with all the excitement, I was still running pretty wired anyway.

The pockets on the back of plane seats are never quite big enough to accomodate everything you'd like, are they? And they could do with some penloops so you don't have to go delving for your writing implement every time you have another idea you want to write down. Synchronicitously, the pen I shoved into my bag this morning just happened to be the orange one, too. No wonder the Orange Juice song found its way into the forefront of my mind. It kinda made up for the annoying panpipes that were in the background of every safety announcement made on the journey. Pan pipes do not relax people. They summon up everything that is cheesy about modern culture (which is a great insult to the ancient cuultures that spawned them, actually), and only set peoples' teeth on edge. They just sound so dated; isn't it about time they found a different sort of muzak?

My internal jukebox continued to come up with inexplicable selections for my journey. Halfway across the Atlantic, it was She Drives Me Crazy by the Fine Young Cannibals and Ever Fallen In Love With Someone You Shouldn't Have by the Buzzcocks. The plane's descent into Boston was soundtracked by a mental rendition of Roxy Music's Love Is the Drug. The accompanying tune for the plane's touchdown and final stop was Can't Get You Out Of My Head by Kylie (and not the Flaming Lips cover, although I heard it more recently).

Getting through customs was the usual gamut of paranoia and power games, with added sniffer beagles at the luggage claim. One tense moment when I was asked how I knew SG, and I always hate answering that one. "We're friends on the internet" sounded dodgy even before the extra security controls that came post-9/11. Luckily, he didn't probe too far so I didn't have to say that.

So far, so good, and aside from this morning's excitement, everything went without a hitch, right? Wrong. When I got to SG's house, she was having trouble with her toilet cistern. Twenty minutes or so after she'd shown me around and we'd settled on the sofa with some wine, we noticed a dripping noise.

You can guess what happened next. The cistern was overflowing and water was coming through the bathroom into the kitchen. Does that sound familiar? Yeah, I've gotta be the only person in the world who can leave an apartment in chaos because water from the bathroom has flooded into the kitchen below, catch a plane to the other side of the world, and helplessly stand by and watch as my friend and her landlady clean up two inches of water on a bathroom floor before it seeps any further into the kitchen below...

Oy. Happy holidays. Don't worry; they mopped it all up and there was no damage. Unlike the place back in London, which certainly has damaged relations with the neighbours, even if there's no physical damage. Still, we'll only be there for three weeks when I get back. I'll be quite pleased to move out after all...

Other things of note: fujifilm.com sucks for usability, but AT&T's site gave us the correct imformation in two clicks; Blogger is not compatible with OmniWeb, and not much happier with Opera (I've had to type this in Notepad first), but at least I can publish wth Opera. And Cartoon Network kicks arse, and Time Squad is a new favourite. Art-directed by Tim Biskup and featuring two characters which make obvious nods to C3PO, The Tick, The Maxx and Space Ghost, and episodes involving flesh-eating robots and Eli Whitney, frankly, how could I fail to love it?

It's cold and I have no more news right now, except that I'd forgotten it's my birthday tomorrow until people kept wishing me a happy birthday whenever they looked at my passport.

2002-12-22T17:34:00.000-05:00

BrooklynKid has some nice photos. Coney Island and Ellis Island Museum are good. Can't wait to get out there and take my own! (via Snowcat's sidebar)

2002-12-14T14:45:00.000-05:00

My host in Boston has been finding all sorts of cool stuff for us to do when I'm there:

gargoyle hunting
the Mapparium
the MIT Museum. She wants to see the Holography and the Hall of Hacks; I'm looking forward to the Harold Edgerton exhibition and the architecture and design collection, too
DeCordova Museum, which has a sculpture park and an interesting-looking multimedia exhibition

2002-12-13T05:48:00.000-05:00

New York Songlines (via BlackBeltJones)

2002-12-10T12:16:00.000-05:00

Bizarro Boston (via Reenhead)

2002-12-04T12:30:00.000-05:00

watch this space...

2002-06-19T12:22:00.000-04:00

and while i'm posting roadtrip links, i really should add antwon. (found at uffish thoughts)

2002-06-19T12:19:00.000-04:00

before i changed the design on here, i used to have a permalink to jonny metropolis. he's travelling around america and having some freaky experiences. most of them much more interesting than my little adventures.

2002-06-18T10:25:00.000-04:00

stephen from plep has got an ameritrip blog too.

2002-06-11T07:33:00.000-04:00

this is what giant spacious loft apartments were invented for: build your own new york cityscape. (via traveler's diagram)

2002-05-29T07:03:00.000-04:00

next time you're in new york, be sure to have a look at this site first. gargoyles and engravings galore! this will teach you that looking up in a city can be worthwhile. i wonder if there's a site that does the same thing for london....?

2002-05-23T05:47:00.000-04:00

i dug out my old notebooks from my trip last week. when i remember/get some time, i'll start adding some of the stories and opinions on here. and now that my laptop is working and i can scan pictures again, i'll upload some of the photos i took whilst on my travels....

which is really why i started this whole blogging lark in the first place, right?

2002-04-12T06:56:00.000-04:00

aah, the memories. i only spent a fortnight in toronto, but i liked it enough to miss it from time to time.

(via coudal partners)

2002-04-04T06:40:00.000-05:00

travelling? need a cheap place to sleep? try sleeping in airports. seems like none of the airports i was at in america are any good, though. atlanta, austin, chicago, dulles, detroit, houston, las vegas, los angeles, miami, philadelphia all get the thumbs down. fort lauderdale and baltimore get the thumbs up, but that's about it. maybe you're better off forking out for that hotel room, after all.

or, do what i did, and stay with your online friends and save a lot of money for FUN!

(link via uffish thoughts)

2002-03-22T06:27:00.000-05:00

gorgeous photos of new york to be found here. i can actually feel the ice off 'em.

check out the rest of his site, too. he's got some good stuff.

2002-03-19T11:55:00.000-05:00

more disneyland, including a page on its beginnings. the los angeles past & future site is really good -- tons of links. (all via bleublog)

2002-03-19T08:21:00.000-05:00

lisa has done some brilliant sketches of tourists at disneyland. she rocks.

2002-03-18T06:32:00.000-05:00

and further to my last post, here's the yahoo slideshow.

2002-03-06T12:05:00.000-05:00

just when you thought american media couldn't get any more bizarro....

it does....

2002-02-27T06:39:00.000-05:00

"skin is in" (again) in vegas

''Casinos are saying, 'Enough of this (family-friendly focus). Let's get back to what Las Vegas is all about, which is to blow your brains out,' '' says longtime Vegas-watcher Anthony Curtis, publisher of the Las Vegas Advisor, a newsletter for gamblers. ''You leave your inhibitions at the door.''

(via the dazereader)

in other vegas-related commentary, i went to see ocean's 11 last week, and my favourite part about the film was that i'd been to all of the locations bar the prisons and the place the two hickboys were from. atlantic city? check. los angeles? check? chicago, san diego, las vegas? check, check, check. i even recognised chicago just from the train platform and the 30 second view of the street. and it made me want to be back there.

2002-02-26T07:40:00.000-05:00

further to yesterday's post, i came across this article on travel and steinbeck's centenary last night. worth a look.

2002-02-25T11:13:00.000-05:00

johnny metropolis pulls off with aplomb what i had attempted to do with this, proving that next time i travel, i need to take better notes even if i don't have internet access. his journal entries (click on the little photos at the top) remind me a bit of travels with charlie.

2002-02-21T06:07:00.000-05:00

i found this on a blogsnob jump, which has a cool tiki design. i'm mostly posting about it because of her account of a trip to san jose, though.

and that puts me in the mood for miss dionne. "la la la la-la, la la, la laaa la"

2002-01-26T10:29:00.000-05:00

tom's finally posted up his pictures of our day out in los angeles. yay! i'm on plasticbag.org! fame at last...

2002-01-11T08:08:00.000-05:00

argh, choices, choices. do i hit san diego at the beginning of august for comic-con international in san diego, or do i wait until the end of the month for blogcon2002 in las vegas?

on the one hand -- in san diego, i get to indulge my geekitude, and yet feel superior towards the myriad other, more scary geeks (oh yes, that chart is everso accurate), and i get to meet up in one place with a whole big bunch of people i love dearly and never get to see anything like enough of, due to that big ol' ocean. but on the other hand, sdcc is overwhelmingly big, and you never really get to see enough of the people that you actually want to see, or anything of san diego.

on another hand entirely, las vegas is las vegas. and i get the thrill of hanging out in a weird and wonderful place that i can't wait to visit again, with a bunch of people i've never met before... the downside being that it's a bunch of people i've never met before.

that can be exciting. or it can be dumb.

ah, decisions, decisions....

2002-01-11T05:59:00.000-05:00

"I love The Map. I love to read the names of all the places it goes and wonder what it’s like there. But from across a subway car, The Map is just a tangled sprawl of colorful lines, the stop names tiny black marks. So many lines. So many places. The city just keeps going and going."

and so he decided to travel to every single stop on the new york subway. and then he wrote about it here. well worth reading. (via traveler's diagram)

2002-01-09T08:37:00.000-05:00

"hmm...something i hadda do today"

"no, i don't wanna hear nothin' about gettin' no older!"

"well, what's it say in this here paper?"

"oh, god, it's true. it really is my birthday and i'm really gettin' old"

"why, god, WHY?"

"ah, birthday mail sure does make me feel better."

i'm a day late, again.

2001-12-29T08:56:00.000-05:00

a christmas story for you. figure i'd put it in here, seeing as it's from a book called true tales of american life

2001-12-19T06:36:00.000-05:00

there's a great article on hollywood in the small hours here (via i love everything) which makes me miss los angeles even more than i did. the description of why we fall in love with los angeles ("that perfume of parties and botanical gardens, of campus grounds and well-tended palisades parks, is what hooked us") makes me miss it all over again. and i never expected to even like los angeles, let alone feel homesick for the place... it brings it home even more further down in the article, as adam's apartment was just round the corner from scottie's donuts and the rock'n'roll denny's (as reviewed by several people on project: dennys), though i never noticed too many prostitutes in his street, myself. i got mistaken for one, once or twice, but that's an occupational hazard of being female.

there's a good page on grafitti and murals in west hollywood including a great one of angelyne) here, and some pictures here and here. i can remember this giant poster of charlie chaplin, and i dreamed about the observatory last night....

2001-12-12T07:57:00.000-05:00

if it hadn't been for the lovely peeps from the invisilist, barbelith, the corpse and the tart, i would never have been able to afford to spend six months in north america. so, i'm right behind tim yang and his put up a blogger project.

2001-11-23T11:40:00.000-05:00

i have a photo of dennis woodruff's car from when i was in los angeles in august last year. guess he still hasn't been cast...

wow. can't believe it's a whole year since i was at chip's, spending 5hrs of thanksgiving getting buzzed-up on sugar and caffeine in a denny's in toledo, ohio with melody and mattrian. can't believe it's a whole year since i played pool with sean and mike at gameworks in columbus. can't believe it's a whole year since these were taken!

(link via traveller's diagram)

2001-02-19T23:15:00.000-05:00

have i ever mentioned howm much i looove chicago? i wanna live here so badly right now, even though mel is leaving for prague in july. there's still lauren and gracie and a bunch of other fun kids.

in the big news, lauren is getting a divorce from chad, but she's cool about it. i've been playing "ears" for her to spout off about how her life is right now. in fact, the title of dan's blog (the mechanics of collapse) sums up how things have been here lately... still, the latest news from barbelith regarding chip is good, if kopi's latest post is anything to go by. (and in a slightly related note, today we drove past the kopi cafe..and i thought of her...)

mostly, since i arrived, i've been shopping and partying. friday i hung out with a buncha barbelithers at the signature lounge in the john hancock tower -- one of my fave bars in north america. 96 stories high with a fantastic view and fabuloso cocktails. yum. on saturday we ended up going to a party at the house of a group of young trade union workers. spent the night drinking cheap beer and amaretto sours, and dancing for about five or six hours to a ton of groovy funk, soul, hip hop and latin tunes. (a day and a half later, my calf muscles are protesting in agony. i am so not looking forward to cramping into an airplane seat for 12hrs tomorrow. damn, i wish i wasn't going via detroit. stupid airlines and their dumb rules about "not going back on yourself", and having to get northwest because they're the only line that allowed me to go detroit-chicago-new york-toronto when i booked my plane ticket three months ago....)

i wish lauren's little laptop wasn't so slow; pages take 2-3 minutes to load, there's no time to check anything much of anything. >sigh< this is most likely my last post to this blog for a while. i will be back to finish detailing my experience with the american dream, and then i'll be starting a new blog. i'd like to say watch this space, but you could end up waiting a long time. i dunno. in the meantime, check out the barbelith collective. y'never know, i might turn up there at some point...

the first person to email me a "welcome home" message will be rewarded with somehing appreciative. of course, the first person who phones me gets something even better.

>sigh< how sad am i that i have to bribe my friends to show me the love?

2001-02-15T14:51:00.000-05:00

tintin is a porn icon. what makes me laugh the most is the name of the purported publisher: bud e weyser. teeheehee! (thanks to my bro for that one)

if you were ever a fan of mr. men when you were a kid (and i went through a phase of collecting them again when i was about 19 >cringe< ), you'll like this. (thanks adrian)

best go finish packing now.

2001-02-15T01:41:00.000-05:00

so, i hooked up with tom m for dinner last night, so the least i can do is plug his fantastic comic, runoff. everyone should email him for a copy, because it's one of the best things i am reading at the moment, and it deserves a much wider audience. tom and i got on well, and not just because we both share an obsession with robots and monkeys... we met in the cat & the fiddle, a pub/restaurant owned by some english bloke from a famous 60s band, though i forget which one. mark (aka morpheus) turned up too, and kind of dominated the conversation all night, but it was ok, coz he was sort of interesting, full of titbits about the city and stuff. ask him about it one day... mark has my ultimate respect, because he lives in a car-dominated city and doesn't drive. that's cool.

today, i hooked up with tom c and ralph (aka true art). mark was there too, so we had coffee and shot the shit about weblogs and barbelith and why tom hadn't been out of the house much since arriving in l.a. amongst other things, and then ralph and tom helped me pick out a new pair of sneakers.

yes, i said "sneakers". since i've spent so much time in the states lately, i've picked up all sorts of dumb americanisms. tom spent half the day cracking up in hysterics and making me lose my train of thought halfway through my sentences, pointing out with much hilarity how much of an american accent i've developed. it's true; i have. does that suck or what? or will it mean i get lucky when i get home?

meeting up with people you know online is weird, though. it never stops being weird, and i've met close to 50-60 people that i first knew online, maybe even more. probably more, now that i think about it. most of the time, people are pretty much how i envision them when i read them online. sometimes, i'll meet someone who is more of an arsehole online (or with a tendency to lean towards that attitude, anyway), and when i meet them in the flesh, they're charming, pleasant and gregarious people that i am more than pleased to count amongst my friends. i'm glad to add ralph to that list. if he wasn't gay, i would be desperately thinking of ways in which i could conspire to jump his bones. hell, i am anyway! heh.

so, ralph likes to collect online games and link to them from his blog, so i'd like to give him another one. hours of fun.

i don't know if i'll be able to post again for a while. i'm going back to chicago tomorrow, and lauren's computer is playing up again. gives me more time to work on that post i mentioned earlier, though.

and the latest news on chip's health seems to be promising. go buy some white and orange candles, kids.

finally, i am pleased to see that camel finally has her blog up and running. yay! you go girl! (and she's been listening to one of my fave albums, ever. she rocks.)

2001-02-14T16:15:00.000-05:00

interesting. tom is ruminating on the nature of blogging just as i am doing so again, myself. i have something i'm debating whether or not to post, but right now i have to go and meet people. you'll get more from me on this later.

2001-02-13T17:43:00.000-05:00

so, while i am trying to meet up with tom, i am also trying to meet up with tom. and ralph (who has, in the past, done some ilustrations for glue, i recently discovered)... arranging meet-ups can be such a nightmare. no one wants to take full responsibility, and no one wants to turn anyone down for fear of offense. somehow i end up taking the bossy role, just to get something organised, and what's more ironic is that i'm doing it and it isn't even my home town, this time. hah!

2001-02-12T17:04:00.000-05:00

my mood has improved. figured out yesterday that three cups of coffee after a week without probably had a big part to play on my depressed state on saturday... yesterday was actually pretty fun. superflat was cool, but only two rooms, with little or no explication about the artwork or its history. nothing explaining the anime/manga culture. no bios of the artists. >sigh< nice catalogue, but i had no cash (now i can't get any money at all out of the atm. good thing i still have some traveller's cheques from my last trip...)

pete was super-hyper yesterday. he came out of the gallery and was bouncing all over the place. me and adam nearly got into a crash on a bad intersection, and even that didn't phase pete, who just took a different route to the cinema. there was a funny moment when a police-car seemed about to pull us over, and i was trying so hard not to laugh if he did.

"what the hell were you doing out there?"
"well, y'see officer, we were talking about anal sex, and…"

we managed to calm pete down with some food at cafe 50s, which has some really cool vintage film posters all over the walls and ceiling. watched shadow of the vampire, which was a fun bookend to seeing nosferatu on friday, except for the annoying couple behind us that talked throughout the whole thing, pointing out really inconsequential details, pre-empting what was going to be said (thereby negating any dramatic tension in the pauses), and going on about the great script. actually, the script was sort of hokey and predictable, though i think that was the point. anyway, pete left the cinema decidedly more down than when he'd arrived. we tried to console him by pointing out that the couple were sad, desperate hollywood wannabes, who had to namedrop loudly to feel more secure in their tiny little worlds. i remain amused that, while i politely asked them to be quiet (and got a filthy look and more noise for my trouble), neither pete nor adam did or said anything until we were out of the cinema and at the other end of the street, when adam called out "thanks" sarcastically. of course, by that point, they were out of earshot. >chuh< wimps, i tells ya. after that, joseph's homemade pizza at chez skye's, where i spent most of the evening talking to a cat, two dogs and a baby.

news from barbelith -- tom is in town, so we're gonna hook up before i split for chicago on thursday; zenith has finally got his hair cut, which is pretty cool, coz only a few days before he still hadn't and his hair was still a mess. (trust me, it was bad enough before i'd left the country nearly 3 mths ago!) my crush on tyrone continues apace, for those posts that make me think in a good way with antagonising me too much... one always needs someone like that in their lives. Speaking of which, i'm still sad that gibreel is leaving us...

this story is one of the most disturbing things i've read lately. speaking of tats, kali, you really ought to get this done, y'know. it looks just like you, and you know it!

2001-02-11T15:12:00.000-05:00

well, in view of last night's horribly self-indulgent whinefest, i'm not going to say much today. i was tempted to delete it and start over, but that would be sort of hyp[ocritical, after what i said on barbelith this morning.

we're supposed to be meeting a bunch of barbelithers at superflat later today, but i suspect that either they won't turn up or we won't get there on time. >sigh<

anyway, don't stay here reading this crap, go read about spidercows, instant orgasms and how to submit work to the barbelith anthology.

2001-02-11T04:05:00.000-05:00

i've been in a weird mood pretty much all day. i feel the way i do when i've eaten too much sugar and carbs, and not enough fruit -- but i've been eating fruit all week, so i don't know why. i think, partly, it's because i'm still tired from last night's clubbing at cherry. that was actually fun, and i didn't even drink, so i can't explain why i felt hungover this morning. fixed that with greasy food at denny's. had a fun time at the atm, when it wouldn't give me any cash, even though i could hear the machine going through the mechanical motions, and the message on the screen was telling me it was proccessing... this was the most exciting thing to happen to me all day. for such an uneventful day, i can't explain why i'm feeling completely drained. it's only 12:35am. adam is out at kinko's, printing up flyers for his band's next show on feb 23. (they're playing at the glasshouse in pomona, so if you're in the area, you could do worse than check 'em out), and then he's gonna hand them out at bang!

he's in a weird mood too. we just found out from the exquisite_corpse mailing list that chip has meningitis. he's got a 50/50 chance at the moment. any of you who've been following my blog lately will just add it to the list of bad shit, like i did. fuck, is someone keeping a tally? let's see...

k's mom died
c's dad had to have a life-threatening operation
s found out a friend screwed him and another friend over really badly
w found out a friend screwed him and another friend over really badly
l and c are splitting up
m and k split up
l's pet died
l's pet died (that's two different l's)
j's pet died
m's pet died
a's pet died
j is seriously ill
j's friend is getting death threats from a psycho

and now this. i'm starting to think it's bad luck to be my friend...

facetiousness aside, i'm utterly gutted just now. that's really how it feels. i never really knew just how much i cared for chip and matt until i got this news. what's painful is to go to chip's blog and read his most recent post. there's more to him than the bitter person that comes acrosss there, as anyone who knows him will tell you. i owe chip a lot. if he hadn't set up the invisibles mailing list, there are a lot of very cool people that i would never have met. sure, someone else would have set up an invisi-related list, but every single one that came later was never as cool as the original. without the list, and all the cool people on it, i wouldn't even be here now, posting this from an apartment in west hollywood...

speaking of west hollywood, i have some stuff i want to put down about the place, but i'm not in the mood to do it now. matt's updates on the shis ituation will be posted at opendiary page. if anyone has any good vibes and shit like that, post it on barbelith.

oh, and on top of all this, i still can't get hold of my mum. phone's still out of order. i hope she's alright. all this shit has got me worried about everyone i care about, now...

2001-02-09T15:28:00.000-05:00

kali, if you're reading this in time, my suggestion is to go and see nosferatu, because that's what we're supposed to be doing tonight. synchro, baby! i don't think we're going to make it though, pete was bitching last night that he won't have time if we're going to club goodfoot or else cherry as well.... we're definitely seeing it at some point this weekend, though; as we had such a great time when we went to the silent movie theatre in the summer.

speaking of movie theatres in hollywood, i am sad to see that the cinescope is being torn down to put up another tacky strip mall. i couldn't find a pic of this great building online, but it looks kinda like a giant golfball that's stuck in the ground. apparently, it was one of the few buildings in the world to be able to play a certain type of film; ain't that just a waste? >sigh<

last night, we watched branded to kill, a bizarre little movie. great cinematography, a host of characters with odd little fetishes (rice-sniffing, dead insects, and the normal-by-comparison wanting to be punished for liking sex). visually, it was amazing. i'm surprised i haven't seen more of the imagery popping up in music videos and the like...

aside from the movie, last night was one of those times when i wished i had a tape-recorder to get all the conversation on record, as it was absolutely classic. most of it was about pete's tumescent dick....

today, grant got a a letter from god, and tries to dent the ratings. mr pink asks is it fun being gay? and several people want to fuck tha police, and seek freedom from corporations. we ask -- fanfic: creative stimuli, or pissed off fanboy fantasies? oh, and come share your dreams (it's no secret that i'm into the road trip idea, too. i've said as much on here, before).

2001-02-08T20:52:00.000-05:00

today, i have seen more proof of how fucked-up life is for more people i know. i don't think immortality is a good answer though. not until people can stop being so nasty to each other.

and yet more bad news today: the afghan whigs have split up. poor zenith seems to be taking it awfully hard. guess we'll never find out what happened with zadie, now.

still, in good news today, laura won another award, and i found new david lapham and troy nixey comics at the matrix website.

2001-02-07T18:43:00.000-05:00

ack. is blogger still having problems? aw, shoot.

2001-02-07T18:38:00.000-05:00

today i have an icky tummy. i feel rough as hell and disinclined to leave the apartment. i was actually prepared to go outside earlier, and then it started to rain. too sucky. so i did a search on "icky tummy" on yahoo and found this, which was sort of weird. a poem about poo, how 'bout that?

glad to see that kali got her pressie. maybe the good karma thing will pay off. thing is, it's not even me that's having the run of shitty luck lately, it's my friends. it's just that it's effecting me, though i wish they didn't have to go through it, whether or not it has any effect on me.

zenith ain't kidding when he says he's besottedwith a certain author -- i even received an email from him, signed "zenith a. smith". aw, bless. aren't other peoples' crushes adorable?

last night's show was pretty good. toledo is a great frontman, and the band were really tight, which is amazing, as adam says that half the musicians he'd never seen before. there were a coupla moments of sublime inspiration. first was when toledo was dancing, and slipped over, but he turned it into this repetitive movement like it was deliberate. there was a moment when the band looked like they were about to totally screw up a number, but recovered magnificently with what was one of the best songs of the night. then there was the moment in the second set when some chick from the audience started dancing and became a part of the whole performance. she ended up rolling on the floor in what could have been an undignified manner, but was actually pretty sensual. i thought she was better and sexier than the official dancers, though the ("off-duty") one who got invited up on stage for the last song was pretty cool. toledo improvised this whole song around her entire outfit, especially her red patent-leather shoes -- it was fly. he came over to introduce himself to me at the intermission, kissed my hand and swanned off to the next chica. pete had been making goo-goo eyes at her all night, so he was a little upset at that.

i'm glad to have finally got to see the band, after hearing adam and pete sing their praises so much. the derby club is a little too hollywood swank for my tastes, though, and as a result the audience was more like a london audience. people in london always have this "oh you think you're such hot shit? impress me" attitude, even if they like a band a lot, but most of the gigs i've been to in l.a. have had audiences who are totally up for just out-and-out having a good time. last night was more posy.

if you think you need a new man, check today's suck.com and see how desperate you are.

2001-02-06T22:01:00.000-05:00

oh, my. life just gets weirder and weirder... have i got irretrievably fucked-up karma, or something? i don't even see how i could, when i've been buying people pressies galore. shouldn't that be giving me good karma? i'm not doing it for the karma, i just like getting people presents, but you'd think it would have some sort of positive effect. maybe the problem is that the presents have gone missing in the mail…

so, i just got a bunch of email from people i have somehow, unconsciously, upset. naturally, i am taking steps to redress this. one of these could blow up horribly (will letcha know how that one pans out). one i am choosing to ignore right now, as the person in question completely misunderstood me, and the moment for explaining has long passed. the other one was, i think (hope), taking the piss...

if a certain alcoholic religious type is reading this, i'm sorry i made the metal-head choose, ok? he's still pissed-off at me for it. it was only a game, guys! (and, hey, he did choose to marry the right gal, anyway)

on a happier note, grant has a new song with one of his other projects. i can't play it on this computer, but i'm sure it sounds groovy...

speaking of groovy, tonight we are going to see the toledo show. i'm looking forward to it, because the last time i tried to see them, they cancelled. of course, if they hadn't cancelled, we would never have seen president clinton's motorcade going down melrose when we were standing outside johnny rockets, and brian would never have come to the conclusion that seeing the president's motorcade is "better than drugs" (though i'm sure he'd have a different opionion if it'd been dubya in the limo...)

2001-02-06T14:52:00.000-05:00

wow. what was i saying last night about everything being fucked-up? it's got worse. i just got an email from the girl i was supposed to be staying with in boston, telling me that one of her friends is the ex-girlfriend of one of the guys in that story -- and another of the guys has been threatening to kill her.

oh yes, i think i am seriously looking forward to going home now. things can't be any worse over there, can they?

2001-02-05T21:04:00.000-05:00

being back at adam's feels like coming home, in a way. i guess because i spent a large chunk of last summer here -- half of my three-months, in fact. but, being inside the apartment, it feels like like i was only gone for three weeks or something, just time for the place to get messy as hell, but not enough time for it to change at all. i'll spare you what pete said when he saw it, though i will admit he had a point. anyway, i spent most of today clearing up. it all started because i thought i'd stack the dirty dishes to make it easier to do the washing-up this evening, but then i dropped a glass on the floor. once i started clearing all the broken shards up, i figured it would be safer to do the washing-up right away to avoid anymore accidents. and then i just got sucked into cleaning. which, if you have ever lived with me, you will know is out of character. i'm notoriously messy, and although i try to keep kitchens and bathrroms clean for the appearances of being hygenic, i'm too lazy to do proper housework. if my mum were reading this, she'd probably be peeing her pants.

so, i was hoping to go to this at the weekend. i had been planning to make it up to boston at some point, anyway. but, y'know, aside from the issue of tickets (too fucking expensve, since this whole last fortnight has been planned on the fly), everything is going to hell this week, and not just adam's apartment. kate's not been the only one with family issues or illness to deal with (or a combination of both)... i know of at least three people who've had to put their pet down in the last fortnight. i know more than one couple whose relationship is on the rocks. i know more than one person who has either been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, or knows someone very close to them who has. this is fucked up. am i a jinx or something? it's easy to get paranoid about this shit. or is it something else in the air.?

shit. maybe all those freaking godbods were right. maybe this is armageddon. it's coming slowly, and by the end of the year, all that i or any of my friends hold dear will be destroyed or, at the very least, severely depleted.

it's enough to make one get superstition, innit?

2001-02-03T20:26:00.000-05:00

hmm... why are those online job agency sites so... limiting? you can only ever put yourself under one industry/job category, when you may be qualified and interested in several. anyway, i stuck my cv up at gis-a-job, but we'll have to see how good the results are. i don't think they're gonna be all that great when i can only sell myself in one category. what if there's another job in a different category that's just perfect for me?

did i mention that i'm sort of looking forward to going home? i dunno why.

2001-02-03T16:56:00.000-05:00

been browsing through the blogger directory this morning. most other peoples' blogs just don't seem to grab me, unless they're by people i know. i guess that's why you always end up seeing the same blogs linked to by the same people all the time. most times the title of the blog seems to be the most insteresting thing. not that i think that my blog is "all that and a bag of chips, or anything", but i hope that some people find it interesting, and preferably not just m y f r i e n d s... do you?

here's an example of a nifty blog title that lets you down with its content: albino gorilla. it's definitely a site that only her friends would be interested in. i only mention it at all, because of this quote: "You know Sour Patch Kids are dusted with a weak acid which gives them that sour taste. It's not strong enough to burn off the top layer of your tongue or anything, but when people think acid it's like that Roger Rabbit pot of ooze that the cartoons dissolved in. I liked that movie because it was innovative for its time, but I always thought Jessica Rabbit had a receding hairline." reminded me of the whole jessica rabbit debacle on the boards... heh

so, anyway. i'm posting this from arcadia, los angeles. et in arcadia, ego. there's something very odd about sitting in a total stranger's house, being able to access all sorts of private details, should i so desire. i am never ever going to meet the woman whose house this is, yet i know about her collection of bunny-related ephemera, that she voted democrat, what she likes to have for breakfast, and that she's often dieting. i know all this from nothing more than a brief glimpse around a couple of rooms in her house; and now you do too. it certainly feels sort of intrusive, even though i've been invited in. but it's only by the person who is house-sitting, and not by the person whose life i am now sitting in. how do you end up in someone's life without them knowing it? what effect will it have on them? ripples....

2001-02-02T23:26:00.000-05:00

"where is my mind? where is my mind?" rather appropriate that this pixies song came on when i was just about to write up about the wierd-ass dream i had last night...

so, there's a party at a house on a hill, which is also a cafe, that people have to reach by climbing a series of steps, and there's snow all over them. i'm in the kitchen, chatting to some tall skinny guy with a blonde rock-star haircut, and in the other room, rumours are spreading about some violent monster-creature that's causing destruction and killing creatures. at some, point, we are no longer at the party, but driving through small pretty streets. we come to a stop outside some park gates, and get out of the car to walk through the park, which is full of exotic birds.

out of nowhere comes a large black and white dog, a bit of a mongrel, but definitely with some old english sheepdog in there. it's charging around, attacking the birds with what appears to be a foaming mouth, but frozen. naturally, we all assume rabies, and scatter in various directions. there were several people in the park at this time, and at least one of them was a female friend, but i can't remember who it was. anyway, i end up back in the cafe, no longer on the hill, and we're all hiding in the basement with the doors bolted. somehow, the dog has made it inside, and turns out to be fine and just as scared as the rest of us. its mouth is no longer frozen or foaming.

it also turns out that the rampaging monster is a giant dolphin, but one that needs no water to breathe. the dolphin has buck teeth and attached to these is a huge red-brown cockroach. the blonde rock-star guy attacks the roach, smashing the dolphin's teeth off in the process. it turns out that the roach is the root of the curse, and we are attacked by a swarm of them. the rock-star smashes them all dead.

next, i find myself on a train, heading to another city to tell the authorities about the roaches. the train is unusual because the width of the carriages is what they would usually be in length, but this is not commented on in the dream. it may also be in a hot, dusty country, and everyone else in the country looks arabic. there are two rows of seats in each carriage, one opposite another. the seats are upholstered in apple-green canvas. i sit in the middle of one row facing the direction of travel, as all the window seats are full, except for the one by the door with the back to the engine. an unpleasantly creepy man comes and sits almost on my lap, so i move to the last available window-sit. i am expecting to take this journey on my own, when i see the rock-star climb in and take the seat before i get there, so i go to sit next to him. on the seat are the bodies of dead roaches, so we have to shake them off the seat. the dead roaches lie on their backs on the floor of the train, shaking as it starts to move...

oookay. no more pepsi and chips for me before bed.

spent the day hanging out in downtown pasadena. an hour in coffee bean and tea leaf, which, though a chain coffee place, actually serves decent coffee. got chatting to the manager, who came from watford, and a german woman. then i hit barnes and noble, where i was able to curl up in a comfy chair in the sun, with daniel clowes' david boring, and the latest ms -- which i don't usually read, but there was a feature on whether feminist is a four-letter word, which i was interested in. i also read about one woman's campaign against female genital mutilation (which reminds me, it seems like the vagina monologues have stopped following me around north america. i think lost sight of 'em back in atlanta...) i also saw this link for the two women crossing the antarctic -- rather them than me, is all i can say.

if anyone is doing stickers, go check out guerilla girls and do your duty.

2001-02-01T21:47:00.000-05:00

random observances from the bus window, as scrawled down in my notebook:

* roadsign offers free coffee for drowsy drivers -- sponsored by the sheriff's department. never seen that in the uk...

* snow-capped mountains in the middle of the desert. one mountain that's the same shape and size as the luxor...only without that light at the top of it, with the really strong beam that can be seen from space...

* a scrap of scrubby desert between the two lanes in the road, that glitters from broken glass that comes from beer bottles tossed out of the windows of passing cars. pretty, but not reassuring: just how many people are driving down that road under the influence of booze? eep!

* billboard signs for a jean with cheesy rhyming slogans. eg "they have dolphins -- we have fish & chips!" ... "they have lions and tigers -- we have shrimp and lobster!" ... they have a palace -- we have ceasar salad!" ... and my favourite... "they have a sphinx -- we have sinks!" ...all ending with the tagline "in-jean-ius"... nevada landing did look pretty nifty, though. it's built to look like a paddle-steamer..

* billboards for the bun boy restaurant that look like they say "bum boy" (just check the font of the logo), and the world's tallest thermometer

* passing the exit roads for mojave, death valley and calico ghost town. made me wish i was doing the trip in a car, so we could stop and look at some of the cool stuff...

* roadsigns for barstow, so i had to get the tape cherry bomb made for me for my last cross-country trip round america. it opens with the opening lines from fear and loathing in las vegas: "we were somewhere around barstwo, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold. i remember saying something like, 'i feel a bit light-headed -- maybe you should drive'... and suddenly, all around us was a terrible roar, and the sky was filled with what looked to be huge bats, all swooping and diving towards the car...which was going about 90 miles an hour, with the top down, to las vegas...." (to give an indication of my geekery, i just typed that from memory) of course, we weren't in convertible going at 90 miles and hour to las vegas, we were in a coach going about 25 miles an hour from las vegas -- but what the hell. it was a popculture moment, and i had to grab it.

how sad is is that when i type fear and loathing in las vegas into a search engine, the first page of links returned has no mention of hunter s thompson? i did find not one, not two, not three, but four old interviews with terry gilliam about the movie, though.

but what would hst say about this?

i also turned up the shannon tweed random generator. it made me laugh.

2001-02-01T01:33:00.000-05:00

ok, so greyhound bus it is. maybe i'll even get to see some of the countryside. hopefully not too many freaky people on there, like when i caught the bus from bowling green, ohio (where paul pope has his publishing company) to columbus, ohio for the mid ohio con. that time, i had to sit behind an amish couple, and i was wearing a sweatshirt with a picture of a robot on it... you should have seen the old guy's sour face when i got on the bus! added to that, we were also sharing the bus with a bunch of inmates on day-release. all this, and i'd spent the night before (which was thanksgiving) in a denny's. well, it was the only place where we could get any food. we had too much caffeine and sugar though, so i didn't get to sleep until about 3 hours before i had to get up in order to get the damn bus. so i slept most of the way, which was sort of annoying, since that part of america seemed to actually be quite interesting during the moments i was awake to see it....

at least this time around i should be able to see something of the desert. i would really love to do a proper drive-all-night-under-the-stars road trip across this country, 'cept...i can't drive. i'm from london! what use is knowing how to drive if i live there?

and on an entirely different note, did i mention that tim, aka moth, has linked to this place? he, in turn, has been linked to in tom's consumption section. in turn, the url for tom's blog was recently mentioned in an article in the big issue (which i can no longer find the exact link for, but it doesn't matter). so, has anyone found their way here from that? i wonder...

i finally got around to looking at the correct script for issue #6 of volume 3 of the invisibles. i own that page in question, y'know. bought it at san diego comicon last year. ironically, i'd spent an hour or so in the morning chatting with grant morrison, but i didn't see him again until later that evening in the hotel bar, by which time i'd taken the page back to my hotel room. i did get it signed by jay stephens, though. he's got a new jetcat series out with oni in april, which i'm looking forward to. i want some more artwork by him, too. i should hopefully getting the cover to this month's tart -- scott morse promised it to me! yay! (i looove my original comic artwork...)
there's a long old interview i did with him up right now.

in more comics news, i got an email from the guy who publishes runoff, to tell me issue #2 is due out (yeehah!) i've been hyping the first issue to death at tart and on the warren ellis forum whenever i go there (which isn't all that often).

while i was looking up something, i found this. the woman obsesses over maltese dogs, which she dresses in "cute sweaters" and she's pissing and moaning about a "loud shouting cow woman". but, if you scroll down past the apparent inanities, it actually becomes interesting. i mean, these people should maybe spend less time agonising over the purity of their little poochie-woochie's bloodline (but who am i to talk; i read comics). still, it's always good to be reminded that politeness is a virtue, as it will undoubtedly get you closer to what you want than aggressive truculence. shit, if only i'd realised that when i was 13...