august 2005
Leavin’ on a jet plane
No, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth. I sort of feel like I am about to, though.
I’ve started to post here many times over the last few weeks, but just haven’t been able to put the words together. Like Pedro Sanchez in Napoleon Dynamite, all I could think was, “I’ll just tell them that I have nothing to say.” So, I’ll just force myself to say something anyway, even if I ramble.
This is it this time - I’m really moving back to England. Tomorrow. After almost 13 years of living in the US, and spending time in other countries (France and Canada) waiting to come back to the US, I’m finally facing the fact that I can’t live here permanently. Sure, I can visit now and then as a tourist, but as much as I want San Diego to be my permanent home, and as much as it feels like home to me now, it simply can’t be.
The hardest part by far, of course, will be being away from Robbie. We don’t yet know when we’ll see each other again, because before I can think about anything else I will have to decide where I want to live, find a place, and get a job. That’s a lot to plan all at once. Once I’m settled in, I’m sure things will seem a lot clearer, but until then it’s all going to be very weird.
So, anyway, that’s how things stand at the moment. I just shipped my boxes of stuff back to England ($300! for surface delivery! that takes four to six weeks!), and only have a few more odds and ends to pack before leaving tomorrow morning. It’s a really strange feeling. I honestly can’t quite believe that this is it. This house, this yard, this street; this furniture, this dog, this man: everything I’ve known and loved for the past five and a half years will soon be on the opposite side of the world from me. It doesn’t seem real.
I should have net access as soon as I get to England. I’ll post when I get there and feel like it.
See you on the other side.
24 august 2005 ~ 16:59 
Walk of shame
I was standing on a stationary treadmill at the gym yesterday, flipping through stations on the TV in front of me in order to find something interesting to watch while running. Comedy Central looked to be the best bet, so I stopped there, then started the treadmill. After a minute or so, I looked up to see that MADtv was on. Suddenly, the title of the next sketch appeared on the screen, in huge letters: DOES MONEY MAKE NEGROES CRAZY?
I looked behind me, to see the only black person in the entire gym right behind me on an elliptical trainer. So, obviously, that worked out really well for me. She looked at the screen, then looked at me.
I just looked mortified.
OK, I’m off to Palm Springs. I’ll try to remember to take photos this time. In the meantime, I’ve recently posted a few more photos at Flickr. Back Tuesday!
6 august 2005 ~ 16:41
Dog days
The hot, often humid days here have made me very lazy recently. Projects have fallen by the wayside as the temperature has climbed into the high 90s, and staying cool has become a priority. The poor window a/c unit struggles to keep the house cool; some days only the living room is bearable.
Don’t be misled by the reported temperatures for San Diego. Here, ten miles inland, it’s routinely 10 to 20 degrees hotter than it is downtown, where the readings are taken.
Our weekend at Harrah’s (warning: site has annoying audio!) was great as usual, though there were a lot more kids running around this time. We had really good poolside food. Giant plates of tacos, with good chips and salsa and drinks for $6 apiece - what a bargain. Robbie came home with a few hundred bucks more than he started with, and everything else was free, so all in all it was a great trip.
Saw a couple of movies this week:
- Garden State: Oh dear me. I really wanted to like this, as it had such good intentions, and I find Zach Braff quite entertaining on Scrubs, but damn, this is a mess. It starts out quite strong, but soon descends into a catalogue of horribly disconnected, contrived moments (the Shins/headphones scene is particularly excruciating) before totally collapsing under an avalanche of cringeworthy Hollywoodesque clichés. A confused young man primal screams into a canyon! Then he has a deep, meaningful conversation with the father he hasn’t spoken to in years! Then he gets off a plane at the last second to reunite with the kooky girl he met only a few days ago and fell in love with! Just dreadful. Still, it had its moments; maybe for his sophomore effort, Braff will spend less time trying to be “offbeat” and hip, and more time writing a coherent, unhackneyed script.
- Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Wow. This exceeded all my expectations. I’m a big fan of the first movie version of this story, and I had been rather afraid that Tim Burton, who is not my favourite director by any means, would totally balls it up. But this is great. Not better or worse than the 1971 version; really, it’s a totally different film, and the two can’t be compared. Johnny Depp is astonishing, turning in a truly bizarre, inspired performance as a Michael Jackson-like Wonka, and the child actors are great. (Well, no one could ever trump the original Veruca Salt, but it’s a good try.) There are a few hidden treasures, including Missi Pyle, who is hilarious as Mrs. Beauregarde, and a sight gag about flags that practically had me on the floor. Even the parts about Wonka’s childhood that weren’t in the original book are well done, and the film boasts a future star in Freddie Highmore. Highly recommended!
Also, Six Feet Under has been simply amazing lately. Shocking, really. That and Curb Your Enthusiasm are the best two shows on TV at the moment, and they’re both on HBO. Network TV, watch out!
We’re off to Palm Springs again this weekend for more heat torture. I’m just looking forward to lying in the pool and catching up on reading again, among other things. I hear the scenery is quite something this time of year.
2 august 2005 ~ 12:08