december 2005
Review of the year
Without a doubt, 2005 has been the weirdest, most disorienting, crazy, fucked-up year of my life so far.
This year I have moved four times - three of those times to a different country, and one of those times to a different continent. I have lost everything that had defined my life for the previous few years: my American visa, and therefore my country (I had lived there almost all my adult life, and considered it to be more my homeland than I did my native England), my home, my job, and my partner Robbie.
Just this month, I lost my (and, of course, Robbie’s) dog Eddy, whom I had known and loved for the last five years.
I lived in three different countries, and visited eight. Finally, at the end of the year, I settled in a new town - one which I used to visit as a child on seaside trips. I restarted from scratch, with just my clothes and books from the US, buying everything to start my life over again.
It has been an insane year. It might be easier if I describe it month by month:
- In January, I had my last day at work - the most laid-back, fun job I have ever had, with a great group of people.
- February was a blur, as I tried to spend as much time as possible with Robbie, who unfortunately had a very heavy work month, and family visiting. I was still in severe denial at this point about having to leave. I sold or gave away a lot of my stuff this month.
- At the beginning of March, I packed my suitcases and moved to Vancouver, Canada. I’m still not sure what I was thinking; perhaps most of all that I would, at any rate, still be on the same major land mass as Robbie, and could go back to California on a tourist visa after a few months … I felt a bit freaked out in Canada at the beginning, but soon met some very nice people and started to feel more at home as I explored the city.
- In April, I attended the ISPI conference in Vancouver, and got to hang out with some of my old SDSU buddies, which was great. Robbie visited, and we went to the ski resort Whistler. Also, my mother visited for a week. It was great to see her - the last time had been when we had all gone to Las Vegas in 2002.
- In May, Robbie visited again, and this time we went to Whistler again (but hiking this time), Vancouver Island, and the Okanagan (desert and winery region), all of which were spectacular. Robbie went back to San Diego, and I followed a few days later, entering the US on a 90-day tourist visa this time. I was glad to be back, but at the same time I had grown to love Vancouver, and was very sad to leave (yes, Conflicted is my middle name!).
- From June to August, I lived with Robbie in San Diego, knowing that I would be leaving at the end of August for sure. I went to the gym a lot, watched movies on the 117" screen at home with Robbie, hung out with friends, and went for walks around San Diego. This was a bitter-sweet time, like summer holidays as a child when I would be having a great time, but the ever-approaching start of the school term would always be in the back of my mind, overshadowing everything … I almost managed to fool myself, if only temporarily, that this would be my life for ever: evenings at home with cocktails and dinner, trips to Palm Springs, Sundays drinking beer at the Hole, cooking for my friends … but it was not to be. At the end of August, I took a one-way flight to London.
- In September, I walked around in a dazed state for a few days before heading to Paris, and thence to the South of France (the Cannes and Nice areas), Monaco, and Italy. In retrospect, that was exactly what I needed at the time: something totally different to keep me occupied; a foreign place where I would have time and space to process the huge changes I was going through.
- In October, I went to Cyprus with my parents (ditto on this being a good idea). I spent time in both the KKTC (northern/Turkish Cyprus) and Cyprus (the Greek side), all of which was absolutely fascinating. I hadn’t been to Cyprus at all for twenty years, since my annual visits there as a child.
- November saw me making multiple visits to Brighton, to check the place out. I liked it a lot, and found an apartment to rent pretty quickly.
- In December, I moved to Brighton, and began the gargantuan task of furnishing the place from scratch (well, there was a fridge and an oven). Starting over again. Making new friends, learning a new town, looking for work, adjusting to the way things work here. I’m getting there …
Reading that all back, it all sounds very “pleasant”, I suppose: jaunts around North America and Europe, lots of free time, seeing tons of new things. All well and good, but what I haven’t been able to convey - because I don’t know how to - is the wrench of it all. The constant change (often against my will), the uncertainty of everything, always feeling rootless and vagrant, always knowing that I will have to move on soon. It’s exciting, in a way, but it’s not good for the psyche. Now I’m starting to get settled again, I’m beginning to find a sense of normality again, knowing that I can build something permanent and put down some roots. In some ways, I am amazed that I am dealing with everything - the huge changes of this year - so well, but at the same time I am aware that part of my coping mechanism is denial. I still wake up sometimes and think I am in California, for a few seconds at least. I still dream sometimes that I am going back to the US to live.
But I also know from experience that I will get used to living here. I already love things about this place, despite the insane cost of living, and the freezing weather, and the lack of sunlight in winter … like I said before, I’m getting there, slowly but surely. I’m getting there.
30 december 2005 ~ 00:14 
Cleanup on aisle 5
A couple of days ago I was at the supermarket with a friend, buying Apple Strudel, as you do. The checkout guy, who looked like a rather pretty girl, and sounded like one when he talked, kindly informed me that it would be half price with the store Saver Card, and did I have one? Unfortunately, I didn’t have mine with me.
Now, if you have ever used a supermarket saver card in the US or Canada, you will probably know that if you don’t have your card with you, you can instead give them the phone number you provided when you signed up for the card, and the system will then match that number to your card and give you your discounts. So, assuming that things work the same here, I said, “No, sorry.” I paused, and then said, “Can I give you my phone number?”
My friend looked at me strangely, then started laughing. At the same time, the checkout guy said, “If you like!”, and smiled. For the rest of the transaction, he was batting his eyelids and flirting like crazy. “Are you American?” he asked. (I guess I must still have a bit of an American accent, as I have been asked this a lot lately.) “I love Americans!” It was at this point that I realised that no, things do not work the same here as in American supermarkets, and that apparently I had just made a really crude, blatant pass at a flamboyantly gay supermarket cashier in front of a whole line of shoppers.
I may have been back in England for almost four months now, but obviously I still have a lot to learn.
23 december 2005 ~ 10:55
Beer and skittles
Phew! I just got in from the a six-hour shift at the pub (followed by Christmas shopping at midnight!), and have a ten-hour shift tomorrow. I don’t have the time or energy to write a short, concise entry, so I’ll write a long, meandering one instead.
Working at the pub is pretty weird. On the one hand, it’s all quite new and confusing, with so many damn things to remember: the left Tetley tap is aerated, the right one is not (though both are unmarked); a “top” is a beer with an inch of lemonade in it; the big lesbian customer on crutches has to have her cider in a Bass glass (?); and so on. But on the other hand, it all feels incredibly familiar, maybe because my parents ran a pub for a while when I was growing up. It’s all still basically the same - the smell of spilt beer on beermats, the old men nursing pints for hours at the bar, the crash of split bottles in the bins. It’s reassuring and daunting at the same time.
I tell you, though, being around such vast amounts of booze really puts you off the stuff. When I get home, I reek of stale beer, wine and spirits that have got onto my clothes throughout the shift, and my shoes are sticky from the beer all over the floor under the taps. The last thing I want at that point is to drink anything. Which is a good thing, really.
What’s amazing about bar work is how much, well, work it is. You literally never stop moving, as there is always something to do. No customers lined up? Then restock the shelves, or fill the glass-washer, or empty the glass-washer, or collect glasses, or clean the bar … it’s a positive blizzard of activity. But it’s far better to be busy than not, as when there’s nothing to do, one hour feels like five.
Being around so many members of the Great Drinking British Public has reminded me just how bawdy we are as a race. It is no coincidence that Chaucer was from here. The other night, one group of men at the bar were talking loudly about spitroasts in earshot of a group of old ladies. The next day, a woman asked me if I was the boyfriend of the (male) manager, then, after I replied in the negative, said, “Can I feel your arse?” (She did. I think she may have had a few drinks.)
My first couple of days there were a trifle shaky. I messed up one food order (the place is also a 150-seater restaurant and does a lot of bar food) on the first day, which miffed a group of customers, and almost got into a fight after giving someone who looked like a wrestler the wrong change on the second day, but I learned to be much more careful after that, and have been fine since. Goofing really shakes your confidence and can ruin an evening. Luckily, though, I haven’t dropped anything yet, unlike one of my colleagues, who dropped an entire tray of meals and drinks down the stairs as he brought them down from the kitchen, which was unintentionally hilarious.
Anyway, one long shift tomorrow, and then I head back to Kent for Christmas with the family. Back on the 28th or so to work some shifts, including another ten-hour one on New Year’s Eve, unfortunately. Then it’s time to start looking for a (sorry, professional bartenders) real job.
In other news, I’ve finally got broadband - it went live two days ago, and the WiFi router was a snap to install and configure. I’m with UK Online at £15/month for 2Mbps ADSL with unlimited usage, which is pretty damn good, especially compared to services like British Telecom that restrict usage. I actually thought about getting UK Online’s ludicrously fast 22Mbps service at only twice the price, but it really seemed like overkill. As it turns out, this 2Mbps feels amazingly fast, with large music and video files coming in in seconds. Damn, it feels so good to have fast net access again after the penury of dialup for the last few months!
My washer/dryer arrived almost a week ago, but it’s still in the middle of the kitchen. The delivery people couldn’t install it due to the placement of the water pipes. I know it’s possible - I just have to get around to calling a plumber to come out and snake the pipes through the kitchen unit baseboards and secure them properly. (I’d attempt it myself, but I don’t want to risk flooding the entire building.) That will have to wait until after the holidays now, with everything else going on.
This is all so trivial. I’ll stop now!
23 december 2005 ~ 01:54
Woof Wiedersehen
Eddy (aka Eddie, aka Eddie Haskell, aka Eddie Spaghetti with the Meatball Eyes) went to the Great Dog Kennel in the Sky on Tuesday, December 13th, 2005.
Goodbye, goofy dog. I’ll always miss you.
15 december 2005 ~ 13:51
Phone home … less
As I left the corner convenience store with my two litres of milk just now, I tossed a couple of coins into the upturned cap of the dishevelled, blanket-wrapped man sitting on the cold pavement outside. He didn’t say thank you. It was only as I walked away that I realised why not: he was busy talking to someone else on the phone.
Homeless people have mobile phones now? WTF?!
14 december 2005 ~ 23:38
Organised chaos
So, I’ve been in Brighton almost two weeks, and I’d say I’m about on track in terms of getting the apartment sorted out. I’ve bought most of the little things I need, but am holding off on some of the bigger items until the post-Christmas sales, when I hope to pick up some bargains: a sofa, a wardrobe (no MDF or veneer tat, please!), an armchair, and whatever else strikes my fancy.
I already have my computer desk and coffee table, which is actually a teak chest with loads of useful storage space. I also have my bed frame (knockdown in pre-Christmas sale!) and mattress (reduced from £500 to £250 online, with free next-day delivery and up-stairs carrying - and it’s amazingly comfortable!), so at least I’m sleeping well, even if I’m still sitting on the floor to eat breakfast every morning. The washer/dryer I ordered online this morning arrives on Friday. I am like so totally stoked that I’ll be able to do laundry at home instead of lugging it down the road in bags and fighting arthritic old ladies for the machines at the Fluff ’N’ Fold.
What has been absolutely amazing to me is the huge number of little things that one has to buy when starting from scratch in a new place. When I left the US, I brought my clothes, books, CDs/DVDs, computer, and a few electronic items with me. No furniture, towels, sheets, or other housewares - all bulky things that cost more to ship than they’re worth. So I’ve spent a good chunk of the last two weeks in central Brighton, clearing the shelves at Debenhams and Habitat of plates, knives, woks, cafetières, wooden spoons, corkscrews, chopping boards, glasses, toasters, carafes, pastry brushes, teapots, mugs, and the countless other sundries that furnish the well-appointed kitchen. Then: sheets, a duvet and pillows (superbly warm goose down), soft white towels, a bath mat, a vacuum cleaner, an iron … the list goes on and on. But I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’ll post pictures when things look more finished and home-like, though, as I still have piles of boxes and clothes everywhere.
I got all the bills put into my name, and finally got my landline connected yesterday, so I have dialup, which sucks but is still way better than no net at all. I signed up for broadband yesterday, and that should be active in a few days, with WiFi, of course. I’m still debating whether or not to get a TV. I’m fine without one, and to be honest I’m a bit confused about what type I would get anyway. The UK’s analogue TV signals will vanish from region to region between 2008 and 2012, rendering many current sets obsolete. Then there are things like Freeview that I still don’t fully understand, mainly because I haven’t researched them yet, so I think I’ll just hold off on the whole thing for the moment.
Other than that, I’ve been walking a lot, going to the pub a bit (but not drinking booze, funnily enough), and wandering around Brighton. Tomorrow evening I start - don’t laugh! - bartending at a pub, just a couple of nights a week for a month or so to help out a friend of a friend, who is the manager there. It will be a while before I get a job anyway, so I may as well, and it will get me out of the house. Besides, it will probably be quite entertaining, and a little extra pocket money never did anyone any harm.
OK, I need to go buy milk. A bientôt!
14 december 2005 ~ 23:05