Tuesday, December 05, 2006

quotes

Lately I’ve been trying, piecemeal, to overhaul my quotes collection. Since time immemorial I’ve worked to provide a full citation for each quote; ie, not just say that Nietzsche wrote something, but specify that he wrote it in The Antichrist. And since many of my quotes were directly encountered by me through various means (books that I read, songs that I heard, words spoken and written to me, etc), this has not been a problem.

However, I also found many quotes through secondhand sources (online collections, published quotation anthologies, article and book mentions, etc), and if the quotes were cited incorrectly and/or incompletely in those sources, then they are also cited incorrectly and/or completely in my collection. This is what I’m trying to fix. But it’s not easy! So many quotes collections—especially the collections found online, but sometimes even in print editions—only provide a name and no further information. This annoys the crap out of me; I really want to break away from doing the same thing in my own collection. Why is this such a popular way to provide quotes to the masses? It’s lazy and sloppy and looks bad. And why do so many collections provide no information at all? I’ve seen quite a few that just list quotes with no additional information whatsoever—not even the quote utterer’s name. Gack!

Anyway, so I’ve been taking a break from my ever-hearty freelancing schedule to research quotes at my local public library. I’m astounded at how much noise is contained therein! Sure, they’ve banned cell phones (thank god!), but they really don’t do much to curb chatting people and screaming kids. I felt like a miserable old crone when I was glaring at all the gabbing teens and shrieking toddlers. If I weren’t so lazy I’d maybe try to infiltrate the University of Maryland’s main library for my research, because I’m sure it’s much quieter there—not to mention the fact that my research pickings would be much juicier. But, like I said, I’m too lazy. And, who knows, maybe you even need a student ID to access the library. (Yeah, I’m too lazy to even phone the library to find out.)

In a completely different vein, I took an online personality disorder quiz a while back, and here are my results:
  • Paranoid - 54% (average: 49%)
  • Schizoid - 86% (average: 53%) (Heh; appropriately enough, I went through a period in college when I was convinced I had Schizoid Personality Disorder.)
  • Schizotypal - 66% (average: 53%)
  • Antisocial - 26% (average: 47%)
  • Borderline - 50% (average: 47%)
  • Histrionic - 14% (average: 43%)
  • Narcissistic - 22% (average: 41%)
  • Avoidant - 74% (average: 39%)
  • Dependent - 22% (average: 37%)
  • Obsessive-Compulsive - 42% (average 40%)
I also took a career quiz which ties in with Myers-Briggs. My results:

Your type is INFP [Withdrawn (I) 83.87%, Imaginative (N) 69.44%, Emotional (F) 69.44%, Improvised (P) 54.55%]

You are an Idealist. Possible professions include: graphics designer, college professor, researcher, legal mediator, social worker, holistic health practitioner, occupational therapist, diversity manager, human resource development specialist, employment development specialist, minister/priest/rabbi, missionary, psychologist, writer.

Hot! I should be a priest!



song heard most recently before posting: Yellin’ at the Christmas Tree—Billy Idol

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

decorating

Happy Birthday, Richard Hughes!!!

I won’t be decorating my apartment for Christmas this year, and I didn’t decorate last year, either. The reason why is complicated—it stems from the fact that my apartment is in a state of disarray and flux (again: complicated). Once I finally buy a house, I will resume decorating for Christmas.

It saddens me, because I was raised in a home that was always decorated for Christmas, and it’s a tradition I really appreciate. Plus I have several boxes of truly kick-ass Christmas decorations. My tree ornaments alone fill me with delight. In 1999 I began following my mom’s lead, picking up an ornament whenever I traveled anywhere. If only I had thought to do that earlier! I also buy ornaments that reflect my personality in some way. I’ve always loved pandas, so I have a cute panda ornament, and I’ve always loved Rowlf the Muppet, so I have an ornament showing Rowlf wearing a crown of holly and berries. I have a University of Scranton ornament to reflect my alma mater and Amish ornaments to reflect the area of Pennsylvania in which I grew up. Plath, Freyja, and Shoah all have their own ornaments, and I also have a few ornaments from my childhood (the rest still get hung on my mom’s tree every year). My goal is to someday replace all the generic filler ornaments on my tree with meaningful ornaments. My goal is also to buy a pre-lit tree, because I am a lazy bastard.

In terms of Christmas decorations, my taste veers more toward emulating nature. (I know—how very pagany of me!) Evergreen boughs, berry clusters, lotsa candles, etc. I have one star made out of berries and another star made out of berries, bay leaves, pinecones, and grass (all faux, of course, but surprisingly realistic). One year I made a big candle holder out of twigs, and while it sounds like a summer camp arts n’ crafts nightmare, it’s actually pretty cool.

This has nothing to do with nature, but I also have a purple velvet stocking for myself and personalized stockings for Plath and Freyja. Plath’s is shaped like a fish and Freyja’s is shaped like a mouse. Maybe I’ll at least hang those up this year...


song heard most recently before posting: Vogliatemi bene—Giacomo Puccini

Thursday, November 23, 2006

giving thanks

Happy Thanksgiving!

and

Happy (one day early) Birthday, Jorge Rosas!

Believe it or not, in my 32 years on this earth, I only ever spent one Thanksgiving away from my family, and that was when I was studying abroad. Initially I was bummed about missing Thanksgiving 1994 with them—especially since I was in a place where Thanksgiving didn’t exist—but it turned out to be a great holiday.

There was a guy in my newswriting class, Steven (I had a bit of a crush on him, I admit), who asked me if I had any Thanksgiving plans. It was so thoughtful of him to ask, especially since this wasn’t even a holiday he celebrated. I had no plans, so he invited me to a dinner being held by an American student he knew. It was a nice mix of Americans and curious Brits. The hostess served a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, including apple pies with an outline of the Statue of Liberty baked into the top! I really had an awesome time.

Today’s Thanksgiving is taking place at my mom’s house in PA. Dinner attendees included Mom, my grandfather, Mom’s boyfriend Bill, Bill’s son Brian, and Brian’s girlfriend Jamie. While everybody fressed on turkey, I ate the most wonderful vegetarian ham in the world, along with many scrumptious sides.

Things for which I am thankful: My awesome family, friends, and pets. My very cool coworkers. Sleep. My camera. A job I love. The fact that I’ve avoided major catastrophe and trauma thus far. Breakfast cereal. The internet. TV. Antidepressants. Having a freelance job that brings in extra money and allows me to work from home. Andes mints. Peanut butter Hershey’s Kisses. My knee-high black platform boots. Music. Art. Books. Poetry. Chocolate milkshakes. Bodies of water. Wildflowers. Flickr. Nature. Cool eyeglasses. The fact that the Earth hasn’t been completely destroyed (yet). Unexpected snowstorms. Hot chocolate. Silence. My mom’s whoopie pies. My grandfather’s PA Dutch potato filling. A healthy body. Grilled cheese with tomatoes. Ice cream. Opera fudge. Great strides in the vegetarian meat industry. Tagless shirts. Wrinkle release spray. Online banking. Icicles. Television without Pity. My journals. Unexpected sculptures. My quotations collection. Netflix. Being able (thanks to the meds!) to see the light at the end of the tunnel.


song heard most recently before posting: Thunder Road—Tori Amos

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

the mold paranoia continues

My landlord never showed up on Friday. Shocker! (Yes, I am rolling my eyes as I say that.) This isn’t the first time he said he would do something and then never did it. So all weekend long I ran my two fans constantly and my dehumidifier whenever I was home. It sucked a lot of moisture out of my apartment and the carpet now feels dry, but I’m still super-paranoid there is moisture in the walls that is going to turn to toxic mold. This was heightened by the conversation I had with my sister yesterday afternoon. She said that when her basement flooded a few years ago, moisture got into the walls and mold began growing, and specialists had to pull down drywall and everything. So I called my landlord yesterday and told him that I was concerned about the walls and he was like, “So you want me to come over and rip out part of the wall to look for mold?” and I said, “Well, no, when my sister had this problem, the guys who came over to handle the situation had a special device that detected where there was moisture and mold, so the walls didn’t have to be randomly ripped apart.” He said, “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Which, in his parlance, means that I won’t hear back from him.

On my way to Mom’s house on Thursday I’m going to stop at Kristen’s house with boxes full of my most important stuff (journals, boxes of photos, travel scrapbooks, framed photos, travel souvenirs, etc.) and store everything in her basement or garage. That way, if a toxic mold infestation strikes before I can get the hell out of that apartment, my irreplaceable items will be safe. Because, you know, with toxic mold, the health authority insists on burning everything in the household—even things that have no mold on them. I would lose everything. I’ve got renters insurance and could use that to replace furniture and clothing and whatnot, but it sure wouldn’t replace the zillions of photos I’ve taken over the years, the journals I’ve kept for nearly 24 years, and things like the matryoshka dolls I bought in Russia.

On top of the flooding mess, I’ve got car repair woes. But I really don’t even want to get into that right now.

When I was packing up my journals for their journey to Kristen’s house, I casually flipped through them and found an entry from my freshman year of college that made me laugh. Coincidentally, it was written 14 years ago tomorrow:
22 November 1992

I spent the night (until 1am) in Kris and Emily’s room, watching TV, eating Zorba’s fries, and talking-talking-talking. I was woken up at 2am (actually, I wasn’t; MBS had already woken us up with another crisis of hers) when Missy and Suki called me from the callbox downstairs. They wanted me to go to a party with them. I resisted, then finally relented. The Late Night we were aiming for was cancelled, so I ended up walking around Scranton with them at 2:30 in the morning, wearing my pajamas and my retainer, with brown Clearasil streaks on my face and my hair sticking out everywhere. I got in at 3am.
Aw, god/dess bless 18-year-old me for thinking it was socially appropriate to go to a college party in my pajamas and retainer, with Clearasil all over my face. No wonder college hunks never beat down my door!



song heard most recently before posting: Open—The Cure

Friday, November 17, 2006

why you should always listen to your gut

I have a penchant for being freakishly intuitive. Over the years I’ve learned to listen to my gut, because most of the time, it knows what it’s talking about. Sometimes, though, I pooh-pooh it and refuse to listen to it. And usually I end up regretting this decision. The gut knows best, people!

Yesterday was one such instance of this. There was a destructive storm barreling up the East coast, after causing substantial damage in the South. Lightning, large hail, tornadoes, flooding rains, and strong winds were all distinct possibilities in this area. As the storm raged outside my office, my gut was telling me that my apartment would flood again, even though I’d been careful to clear all leaves away from the drain outside my back door (this is the same drain that caused my apartment to flood a few years ago). I kept thinking that I should leave work early and go home and check on it, but then I accused myself of being paranoid and told myself everything would be fine. Except it wasn’t. I got home and was halfway across my bedroom when I started hearing the squishing noises. The flooding affected the bulk of my living room, all of my bathroom, and half of my bedroom. There wasn’t standing water, but there was enough where, when I stepped on the carpet, water pooled up around my feet. Much cursing ensued.

I called my landlord and he came over with a wet vac. He vacuumed the bulk of the water, but the carpet is still damp. So, like, if I kneel down, the knee of my pants will be wet when I get back up, and I have to wear slippers to keep my feet dry. Today he is coming over with an industrial drying fan which will hopefully work. I’ve got the raging toxic mold paranoia, yo! I ran my two fans all night long and I also ran my dehumidifier this morning. I left the fans running when I went to work, but wouldn’t leave the dehumidifier running. I’ll run it again when I get home from work. My landlord is also going to work on the gutters and fix the drain to make sure this (hopefully) doesn’t happen again.

I’m beleaguered by this whole thing (especially since I already have my plate full with a heavy freelancing load and imminent car repairs), yet I’m also grateful, because it could’ve been so much worse. This same storm killed 12 people, injured others, and destroyed who knows how many homes. My only problem was flooding, and it was far from Katrina proportions. I got off lucky. There are water marks on some of my furniture and some of my possessions was ruined, but thankfully they were all very minor items (like one of my freelancing style manuals and one of the framed postcards I’ve had since high school).

Now, if only I could turn off my fears about toxic mold!!!



song heard most recently before posting: There is a Light That Never Goes Out—The Smiths

Thursday, November 16, 2006

the best thing in the history of the world

I did an online facial recognition thingy which listed the celebrities I supposedly most resemble. I didn’t use a great picture (it’s my passport picture), but it was the only one I had handy that showed me smiling and looking straight ahead. The results are hot hot HOT! The software says I look like Jensen “Eric Brady” Ackles!! And I look like rotund middle-aged comic Wayne Knight, aka Newman on Seinfeld!! SUCH HOTNESS!!!

Here we go:



Okay, actually, I just dug up another photo of myself (more recent) and snagged this:



Awesome! Now I look like Michael Keaton!!! Isn’t he, like, 60 years old?

Meanwhile, here’s something very cool. I learned about it on the Today Show this morning. Apparently researchers can turn a person’s brain waves into music, using a computerized mathematical algorithm. Brain waves are translated into digital music and placed on a CD with a relaxing file (music made from your slower, more relaxed brain waves) and activating file (music made from your faster, more alert brain waves).

Brain music therapy has been used by thousands of patients worldwide to treat anxiety, insomnia, and depression. It alleviates migraine and tension headaches and drug withdrawal symptoms. It increases attention span and improves concentration and productivity in people with ADD. It also helps people with social and performance anxieties. It is believed that it could help pilots who suffer from pilot fatigue syndrome, military personnel who have to function at the optimum level in tense situations, and others who have to overcome the disruption of their sleep-awake cycle (like shift workers). It could enhance athletic performance, too.

And no, it doesn’t sound weird, discordant, or space age-y; rather, it sounds like classical piano music. Matt Lauer’s brain music was played on the air and it was quite lovely!

Each person’s brain wave pattern is unique and therefore each person’s brain music is highly individualized. In double-blinded studies there were two groups: One group listened to their own brain music therapy CD, while the second group listened to a brain music therapy CD of another person. The results showed that individuals in the group listening to their own CDs significantly exceeded the effectiveness of those who listened to other CDs.

How cool is this! More information is here. It reminds me of DNA Artistry, a company which turns your DNA into modern art. Science and art tango so beautifully together!



song heard most recently before posting: Hand in Glove—The Smiths

Monday, November 13, 2006

dispatch from the shallow end

Well, fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck. I went to the Silver Theatre on Friday night to catch a Czech film (Lunacy, which was deliciously bizarre) running as part of AFI’s European Union Film Showcase. While there, I picked up the latest issue of Washington City Paper. In it I saw an ad for Damien Rice’s mid-December concert at the Lincoln Theatre in DC, which had only just been announced, and I was like, “Great! I’ve gotta go!” Stupidly, though, I waited until today to buy my ticket, which was too late—the show is sold out.

I’ve been missing things right and left lately. This weekend I learned that I just missed two cool-looking things:

1) an art exhibit in Arlington that dealt with death, and
2) a stage production of 1984—one of my all-time favorite books.

However, lest you think I’m too out of the loop, I’ll mention that I did manage to find out about two local events in the nick of time: a Scandinavian Christmas bazaar and St. Lucia festival in McLean on December 2nd and a Finnish Christmas bazaar in Bethesda next Saturday. I attended the Finnish bazaar last year and loved it (even though I didn’t win the raffle, which would’ve sent me back to Finland for free), so I will definitely go back again this year.

A while back, Washington City Paper started a new feature called Crafty Bastards, which spotlights the talents of local artists. They produce everything from purses made out of old books to dolls made out of tampons. Check it out!



song heard most recently before posting: All Blues—Miles Davis

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

happy days are here again

At Antoinette’s parents’ house the other day, her father grabbed my left hand and pointed to my empty ring finger. “No, I’m not married,” I sighed. This happens nearly every time I see him. Aw, bless, after 20 years of knowing me, the poor guy is really eager to see me get hitched. He said to me, in his delightfully thick Italian accent, “You tall, you beautiful—why you not married?!” Ummm…maybe because I repel every man who isn’t an itinerant street lunatic? Just a thought.

Meanwhile, there is a lot to celebrate today, regarding last night’s poll returns! Here are a few of the reasons why I’m celebrating:
  • Democrats have seized the House and are poised to take over the Senate as well.
  • My state, Maryland, now has a Democratic governor, Martin O’Malley. This is especially good news to me because during his tenure, our current Republican governor, Robert Ehrlich, repealed Maryland’s 51-year ban on trophy hunting of black bears, the 280-year ban on Sunday hunting, and the centuries-long ban on crossbow hunting. Before he was governor, he voted in Congress to subsidize the trophy hunting of African elephants and give millions of dollars to the luxury coat industry, and he opposed legislation to protect dolphins from drowning in tuna fishing nets.
  • Michigan voters squashed Proposal 3, a measure that would have allowed mourning dove hunting.
  • Arizona voters overwhelmingly passed a historic initiative to improve the lives of farm animals—the Humane Treatment for Farm Animals Act.
  • South Dakotans rejected a law that would have banned virtually all abortions, and at least two state Senators who supported the ban (both men, go figure) were voted out of office.
  • Arizona became the first state to defeat an amendment to ban gay marriage.
  • Missouri voters approved a measure backing stem cell research and voted Sen. Jim Talent, who has consistently done poorly on animal welfare issues, out of office. He was replaced by Democrat Claire McCaskill, who supports stem cell research and is a strong animal welfare advocate.
  • Kansas voters rejected extremist attorney general Phill Kline, who attempted to seize women’s confidential medical records.
  • In pro-choice news, dangerous abortion restrictions for teens were rejected in Oregon; in Ohio, pro-choice, pro-family planning Governor Ted Strickland defeated Ken Blackwell, who supported legislation even more extreme than South Dakota’s abortion ban; in Wisconsin, women’s health champion Jim Doyle defeated Mark Green, who co-authored legislation allowing health care providers to deny women access to birth control.
  • We now have our first female speaker in the House of Representatives (Democrat Nancy Pelosi), our first Muslim congressman (Keith Ellison, D-Minnesota), our first socialist senator (Bernie Sanders, I-Vermont), and our first black northern governor (Deval Patrick, D-Massachusetts).
  • In California, Rep. Richard Pombo, once deemed the “leading opponent of animal welfare in Congress,” and Sen. Conrad Burns, another foe to animal welfare, were defeated.
  • In North Carolina, Rep. Charles Taylor (R), who had voted against nearly every animal welfare bill, including one to ban pornographic “crush” videos, was defeated. In Pennsylvania, Rep. Don Sherwood (R), another opponent of animal welfare issues, was also defeated.
  • Senator Rick Santorum was defeated in my home state of Pennsylvania. To his credit, Santorum was the lead author of legislation to crack down on puppy mills and he was a strong supporter of animal welfare issues. However, there are still lots of reasons why I was glad to see him go:
  1. He once tried (unsuccessfully) to insert language into the No Child Left Behind bill that sought to promote the teaching of intelligent design while questioning the academic standing of evolution in public schools. He described intelligent design as “a legitimate scientific theory that should be taught in science classes.”
  2. In 2003 he said, “Whether it’s polygamy, whether it’s adultery, whether it’s sodomy, all of those things are antithetical to a healthy, stable, traditional family” and “Every society in the history of man has upheld the institution of marriage as a bond between a man and a woman. Why? Because society is based on one thing: that society is based on the future of the society. And that’s what? Children. Monogamous relationships. In every society, the definition of marriage has not ever to my knowledge included homosexuality. … when you destroy that you have a dramatic impact on the quality.” He also said that sodomy laws exist to prevent acts that “undermine the basic tenets of our society and the family.”
  3. Regarding the Catholic Church sex abuse scandal, Santorum said the priests were engaged in “a basic homosexual relationship” with “post-pubescent men,” and added that he had “a problem with homosexual acts.” He added, “Priests, like all of us, are affected by culture. When the culture is sick, every element in it becomes infected. While it is no excuse for this scandal, it is no surprise that Boston, a seat of academic, political and cultural liberalism in America, lies at the center of the storm.”
  4. He believes that the right to privacy “doesn’t exist in my opinion in the United States Constitution.”
So now a staunchly Republican president will being going head-to-head with a Democratic Congress. Will this create a big, stagnant deadlock? Maybe so, but a deadlock is better than allowing Bush to continue his disastrous, rampant reign unimpeded!

There is some bad news, however. In Colorado the Domestic Partnership Initiative failed. Gay marriage bans passed in Idaho, South Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, and Wisconsin. Sen. Lincoln Chafee (R) of Rhode Island, co-author of legislation to stop the commerce in primates for the exotic pet trade, lost his reelection bid. Rep. John Sweeney (R), the lead author of legislation to ban horse slaughter, lost his bid for reelection in New York. And Rep. Charles Bass (R), a supporter of Sweeney’s horse slaughter bill and the lead author of legislation to protect Yellowstone bison, lost in New Hampshire.

Sigh.

But hey, at least Rumsfeld resigned! When that was announced, there were whoops and cheers heard throughout my office!


song heard most recently before posting: Longer Boats—Cat Stevens

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

poll-dancing

Today is Election Day, which means two things:

1) Democrats will hopefully seize power in Congress, and

2) The mudslinging ads on TV will finally stop! Yay!!!

I kick-started today by voting. And although the line at the polls was rather long, it did move at a fast clip—especially since I read one of my trashy British magazines while waiting in line.

Yesterday I took off work and went to Berryville, VA, for Antoinette’s baby’s christening. Afterwards there was some time-killing at her parents’ house, followed by a big, gorgeous after-party (theme: A Star is Born) at the Shenandoah Golf Club in Front Royal. Fittingly, this is where Antoinette and her husband had their wedding reception three years ago. Oh, it was so lovely, and I confess to getting teary-eyed when Antoinette and baby Luca had a mother-son dance to the song “I Hope You Dance”!


song heard most recently before posting: Big Day—XTC

Sunday, November 05, 2006

stoooopid

Not that there were any doubts about this, but I am officially the stooooopidest person alive. The American Film Institute’s annual European Union Showcase has begun, and I headed to the Silver Theater this afternoon to catch two of the films—one from Finland (Mother of Mine) and one from Germany (Requiem). The former was excellent and made me cry. Bonus? The director was there!! Nobody expected it, so it was a great treat. He gave a small talk before the film and after it started, he cut out so he could catch his flight back to Finland. Another bonus is the fact that a trio of Estonians was sitting behind me, happily chatting away in Estonian. I resisted the urge to say to them the only Estonian phrases I know: thank you, please, and I don’t eat meat.

After the film ended, I browsed through DSW and Borders and then returned to the cinema to wait for the second film to begin. I thought (thought being the operative word) there were only two theaters, and I wasn’t sure in which one Requiem would be playing, so I sat at a table between the two theaters, where I could keep an eye on both of them and wait for one of them to empty out, thus indicating where my film would be screening. I finished the book I’ve been reading, then started reading the latest issue of the Washington City Paper. I didn’t have a watch and there were no clocks around, but it seemed to be taking an awfully long time for one of the theaters to empty out and Requiem to begin. I should’ve only had to wait for an hour, tops, and it seemed like more than an hour passed. I don’t know why I didn’t ask an employee what was going on. Because I’m stupid, I guess.

Well, eventually one of the theaters emptied out and the screen outside the door continued to say Little Miss Sunshine, instead of changing over to Requiem, so I finally asked an employee what was going on. Turns out there was a third theater I didn’t know about, and that’s where my movie was showing. Also? It had begun an hour and a half ago. D’oh!!! God, was I kicking myself!

The good news is that the woman thoughtfully gave me a readmission pass, which means the $9.50 I spent on my ticket wasn’t spent in vain—I can go back to the Silver Theater and see another film without having to pay for it. There is a Czech film playing on Friday night that I want to see, so I’ll probably use the pass for that.

The bad news is that I lost my chance to see Requiem, since today’s showing was its final showing. Also, this weekend is one of the very, very few weekends when I didn’t have to work, and I’m pissed that I squandered my preciously rare free time by sitting in a dim cinema lobby when I could’ve been outside, enjoying the beautiful day, or lounging on my couch, savoring the pile of trashy magazines I brought back from London last month.

I think I need three kicks to the head right now, thank you very much.

song heard most recently before posting: Intergalactic—Beastie Boys

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

I’m not a nurse!

Happy Halloween!!!

(and happy 5th anniversary, Annida and Dan!)


The verdict’s in: I’ve got conjunctivitis in both eyes. I took off work yesterday because my eyes looked horrific. I called my GP’s office and was told that she’d try to squeeze me in at 5:30pm. So I spent the day watching stuff I’d taped the night before, reading (although it was a bit difficult, because of my swollen, blurry eyes), and chatting with Angela. At my doctor’s office I kept my eyes downcast so the other people in the waiting room wouldn’t see my deformed-looking eyes. The nurse actually flinched when she saw me!! And my doctor took all of five seconds to diagnose severe conjunctivitis. She gave me a prescription and I promptly went to CVS to fill it, and while waiting for it to be ready, I browsed through the store, eyes trained on the floor, praying that nobody would notice them. I’m far from vain (I have no qualms with going out in public in my pajamas with unwashed hair, for example), but this was ridiculous—I looked like a monster!

I’m still infectious but I came to work anyway—mostly because the medicine is helping to make my eyes look more normal. I’m trying to be careful, washing my hands repeatedly and avoiding touching too much beyond my cubicle walls so I don’t infect my coworkers. It’s selfish, I s’pose, but I’d rather save my sick days for times when I really feel sick. And aside from my eyes, I do feel fine. Plus Tuesdays are when my upstairs neighbors watch their grandchild (the one who does nothing except run endless laps on their hardwood floors and periodically shriek), and the thought of spending the entire day listening to those endless thumping footfalls kind of roiled my stomach.

On Saturday night my conjunctivitis went into remission long enough to allow me to go to Georgetown in costume (I was a Soviet prostitute) with my coworker Susan. For my costume I wore my knee-high platform boots; fishnets; a red miniskirt (I bought a skirt at the Salvation Army and chopped it short); a white shirt, unbuttoned halfway, with a black pushup bra beneath it; a military cap covered in Russian badges and merit pins, which I bought in St. Petersburg; my neon pink wig; the Soviet watch I bought at an army-navy store in high school (when the Soviet Union still existed!); a Lenin pin commemorating the 60th anniversary of the Soviet revolution, which I bought at a Helsinki flea market; and a red tie made out of old fabric, with a hand-drawn hammer and sickle on it.

Nobody knew what I was supposed to be—not that I can blame them! One dude thought I was La Femme Nikita, and a few people thought I was a nurse. Still, despite their confusion, the costume was a hit with all the drunken frat boys roaming the streets! A couple of them even snapped my picture!








me in Georgetown,
looking drunk, even
though
I wasn’t





trying the prostitute-
with-glasses
angle






song heard most recently before posting:
Night on Bald Mountain—Modest Mussorgsky

Friday, October 27, 2006

Tagalogs or KGB-alogs?

Happy Birthday, Skevy Leavens!!!!

(And Sylvia Plath, too!)

Oh, Rush Limbaugh, how staggeringly mature and professional you are, making fun of a Parkinson’s sufferer on your show. I haven’t seen that much maturity since I witnessed heartless mockery on the playground back in elementary school. When you were deaf, I’m sure you would’ve loved it if someone had returned the favor.

Oh, how I long to whack him repeatedly on the back of the neck with a roll of quarters. He is condemning Michael J. Fox for “exploiting” his disease for political gain (ie, using it to help pro-stem cell politicians get in office). Is that what Fox is really doing? If so, what does it matter? As long as he is the one doing the exploiting, and someone else isn’t doing it to him, why is this an issue? If I were a celebrity with a disease, and going on TV to throw my support behind Senator So-and-So—who supports stem cell research—meant that a cure could conceivably be found, I would exploit the hell out of my disease. If that’s what it takes to help bring about a cure, so be it!

Limbaugh made a snide comment about Fox stopping his medication before filming the ad in order to maximize his tremors. Fox has since publicly stated that he was actually overmedicated when he shot the ad—not undermedicated. This is just my personal opinion, and I could be completely wrong, but I thought Limbaugh’s comment smacked of dismissive arrogance, like, “Oh, just go take your medicine and shut up about your tremors and this stem cell nonsense. If you took your medicine like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.” As if the medication’s existence justifies keeping stem cell research limited and a cure in the distant future. I can honestly see Rush thinking, “Well, you have your medication to stop the tremors, so why are you bellyaching about needing a cure?”

Oh, and yeah, Limbaugh did apologize later (“So I will bigly, hugely admit that I was wrong, and I will apologize to Michael J. Fox, if I am wrong in characterizing his behavior on this commercial as an act, especially since people are telling me they have seen him this way on other interviews and in other television appearances”), which is a step in the right direction, I suppose, but I still don’t buy his apology as being altruistic. I think he was just trying to cover his ass, because so many people were disgusted by his comments.

Anyway. In lighter news, I just got back from a lunchtime jaunt to the Salvation Army, where I picked up a skirt for Saturday’s Halloween costume. I had to take my Soviet hat in there with me, to ensure the skirt matched the hat perfectly, and when I was paying for the skirt, the cashier asked, “Is that a Girl Scout hat?” Ha! Da, I am a Girl Scout who earned her merit badges in oppression, propaganda, and forced labor. Please, buy my Girl Scout cookies; they are made with the finest flour milled by gulag prisoners. Спасибо! She won my respect, though, because she complimented my skulls-and-cherries purse, which I bought in London last month!



song heard most recently before posting: Wednesday Morning, 3am—Simon & Garfunkel

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

I DON’T have Bette Davis eyes

I think I may have developed an eye infection. On Monday night I barely slept, and when I woke up on Tuesday my eyes were somewhat swollen, gunky, scaly, and bloodshot. Grody. I chalked it up to not getting enough sleep (that always does weird things to my body), but last night I slept okay and this morning my eyes were still bothering me. I mentioned it to my boss, because I didn’t want him to think my eyes were bloodshot from me drinking or crying all night, and he mentioned that our permanent temp had pink eye last week. How did I fail to notice this?? I haven’t had pink eye since I was in junior high. Let’s hope I don’t break that record now. I’m going to watch it for a day or two and then call my doctor if my eyes still haven’t cleared up. They do look better today, but they’re still kind of mortifying.

Last night I went to the mall to buy a baptism gift for Antoinette and drop off my Fisheye film at Ritz, and I was immediately accosted by charity workers (from MercyCorps) trying to pull in money for tsunami and Darfur victims. The only problem is, they weren’t actually taking donations. Instead, they want people to sign up to automatically give $31 every month via credit card. Well, it’s physically impossible for me to say no to anybody, so I ended up handing over my credit card. I’m not comfortable having them pull money off my card every month indefinitely, so what I’m going to do is let it go through for a few months and then cancel it. I know how selfish that sounds, but I’d rather spread my donations around, you know?

Before heading to Ritz I stopped at Forever 21, even though I knew I’d regret it, because that store is like crack to me (you couldn’t pay me to wear some of their stuff, while other items just fly off the racks and into my hands). My love of this store is quite unusual, because normally I avoid malls and do 99% of my clothing shopping at secondhand shops, vintage stores, and Target. Sure enough, I walked out of Forever 21 $117 poorer. But good lord, it was so worth it. I bought three dresses and a blouse, and one of the dresses makes me feel like a sexy mothafucka. That is no small feat, ladies and gentlemen!


song heard most recently before posting: Overs—Simon & Garfunkel

Sunday, October 22, 2006

HALLELUJAH!

Sunday morning, 9am. I am asleep (of course!), happily tucked beneath my duvet with at least one snoozing cat astride me. It doesn’t last. Why? I think y’all know the chorus by now: it’s the sound of one of my upstairs neighbors, D—, screaming “HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! OHHHH GLORY! HALLELUJAH! THANK YOU, JESUS! THANK YOU, JESUS! HALLELUJAH!” This took place in recurring spurts between 9–10:30am, when I finally rolled out of bed (and no, I really didn’t get to sleep during that time, courtesy of the screams). Just another day in my lovely home.

Yesterday I was bitten by something—I don’t know what—and the pain was so intense, it literally caused me to stagger into a tree and fear that I was about to drop dead, a la Steve Irwin and his stingray barb. Half of my hand swelled up and it took a while for the pain and swelling to subside. No death, though. At night, when I was reading in bed, my eyes were persistently foggy for no good reason, and again, I was paranoid that the bite was going to cause imminent blindness. I really, honestly feared that I was going to wake up blind on Sunday morning. It didn’t happen, thankfully...so...HALLELUJAH! OH GLORY! THANK YOU JESUS HALLELUJAH!



song heard most recently before posting: Mimi’s Heart Muted—Yoko K.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

if I had a Eurail pass right now...

Some quick events that caught my eye, but which I can’t attend, because they’re all in Europe:

Winterthur’s Photography Museum and the new Swiss Photography Foundation stand on an old factory site, forming Europe’s largest photograpic center. The venue is dedicated to contemporary photography as an art form and as a visual document of reality.

From December 1 until December 3 the Romanian Peasant’s Museum will host its famous Christmas Market.

Eero Saarinen: Shaping the Future is the first retrospective of Saarinen, the Finnish-born modernist architect (1910-1961).

The Natural History Museum in Oslo is holding an exhibit on homosexuality in the animal kindom.



song heard most recently before posting: I Am…I Said—Neil Diamond

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

why it’s not good to lie to Customs

Happy Birthday, Herbert Eck!!!

Sour mood alert! I was in such a strop when I arrived at work that when I angrily smacked on the light switches, I hit them so violently I literally saw sparks. I’m in a sour mood not because it’s raining, but because I was woken up yet again at 4:30am by my upstairs neighbor praying. At 5am his grandkid started wailing for whatever reason…possibly because HE WAS WOKEN UP AT 4:30AM BY HIS GRANDFATHER LOUDLY PRAYING. Just sayin’.

This past weekend stank. The weather was stunning, yet I was housebound due to a pile of freelancing, and then my neighbors decided to make it worse. On top of the usual clomps and stomps and crashes, one of them chatted on the phone so loudly at numerous times, I could still hear every word she said even though I was wearing ear plugs. And another one of them blasted organ-heavy religious music on Saturday afternoon, singing along in such a manner that can only be described as “opera singer gets electrocuted.” He feels the spirit of Jayzus, yes he does. Up, up, up! goes my merry blood pressure.

Today marks 10 years since I got chucked out of England. The condensed version:

I wanted to move to England. I decided to buy a roundtrip ticket that would keep me in London for a month, where I would live with my friends in New Cross. If I didn’t find legal work during that time, I’d go home. Simple as that. But I was confident (naively so) that I would find a job somewhere—even if it meant scrubbing toilets in an American hotel chain. So I packed quite a few of my possessions and took them with me. That was my fatal mistake.

Virgin Atlantic alerted Heathrow Customs to my suspicious load of stuff, and I got grilled as soon as I arrived at Passport Control. I panicked and denied that I was going to look for work. Dumb move, considering I was carrying (ahem) resumes and a book called HOW TO GET A JOB IN EUROPE. Which they found, of course. They confronted me and I admitted that I was planning to look for a job, but would only accept legal work. That’s the truth! Why would I want to stay there illegally, always looking over my shoulder, unable to ever go home, unable to open up a bank account or get healthcare coverage? No thanks. But because I’d already lied to them once, they didn’t believe me. So out I went.

First I was stuck in a locked room full of illegal immigrants and criminals. Hotness. I was the only female there, and certainly the only American. We were separated from the cops by a sliding bulletproof glass window. I used the pay phone to call my mom, bawling the whole time, asking her to pick me up at Newark that evening. I sat there, surrounded by my boxes and bags, weeping the whole time.

They kept me there for hours, then finally pulled me out so I could see them search my stuff. They searched every nook and cranny of my bags, pulling out everything and examining it. They made fun of my CDs and my bulk bottle of Tums. They sneered, “Why are you trying to take jobs away from the British?” (I bit my tongue instead of replying, “Do you realize how many of your countrymen have moved to my country and taken away jobs from Americans?”) On and on it went. It was humiliating and the only thing missing was them strip-searching me and doing a cavity search.

Finally they hauled me onto the plane. A policewoman accompanied me and wouldn’t return my passport until I was buckled into my seat. Well, thankfully I wasn’t put in fucking chains like Kate on Lost! I was still mortified, though, especially since everyone on the plane glared at me because the flight was delayed thanks to me. They were all seated, waiting for take-off, delayed because of me. I cried the whole way home.

And do you know what? It took 2 ½ years before I was even allowed back in the country. Initially I tried to go back for a vacation in March 1997, but the Embassy (or maybe it was Virgin?) called me the night before I was scheduled to leave and said, “Don’t even try it—you won’t get through.” So I had to cancel my trip at the 11th hour. That summer I went to the British Consulate in New York City to apply for a visa (which was now necessary for me to return to England) and get interviewed by a Consulate official. My application was rejected, because they thought I would try to disappear into the night in England and live off the blood and sweat of hardworking Englishmen everywhere. It didn’t help that I was still living at home at this point and only working as a temp. I just didn’t have enough roots to ground me to the US (in their eyes, anyway).

Two years later I tried again; this time I submitted my application to the British Embassy in DC and went into my interview armed with a copy of my apartment lease, a letter from my boss, copies of my bills, etc, etc—anything that would prove that I had a solid life in the US. The interview lasted all of two minutes. The guy was like, “Yeah, sure, I don’t understand why this is even an issue” and stamped the visa in my passport. DONE! Plus he made sure I was removed from the customs watch list in Heathrow’s computers.

Thankfully Virgin turned my unused 1997 ticket into a voucher that could be used at any time, and that’s what I used to go back to England in 1999. Although I had supposedly been stricken from Heathrow’s computers, I nonethless opted to play it safe and fly into Gatwick instead.

My journal entry from that day:
17 October 1996, Thursday

Oh my god, my worst, my absolute worst, nightmare is happening right now, and I pinch myself repeatedly but I CAN’T WAKE UP. I’m in England, at Heathrow, but they’re not letting me into the country. They’re sending me home tonight on Virgin. Oh my god, I’m starting to cry again…I can’t stop crying…I can’t stop these waves of horror from drenching me.

At Passport Control, the guy asked me too many questions, and I go so nervous, and I figured it was routine (they always ask me so many questions, stupid questions), but heightened, because of all my bags. Yet I still didn’t make that connection, and all I could think was that they just thought I was suspicious. It took two hours for the whole terrible process to be complete—the questions, the hostility at my lying, the paperwork, the suspicion, the searching of my boxes. I couldn’t stop shaking. The guy had already talked to Annida to verify my story, and after those two hours, I was finally allowed to see Annida, Yannick, Jim, and Richard. My heart broke. I couldn’t stop sobbing. I must’ve looked so horrible. They looked so wonderful. I wanted them to stay all day, and I thought they could, but then the bastard came out and said I had five more minutes, like I was a prisoner, and I had to leave them again…leave them after so little time. … Now I’m in this locked room full of immigrants, and two keep hogging the phone, so I can’t call Doppie. I called Mom and bawled. …

Oh god, I am such a wreck. I am such a failure. My dreams just EXPLODED in my face and now I have nowhere to go. Even after the rush and stress of the airport last night, everyone kept saying how happy they were for me, how proud. Proud, proud. That’s all I heard. Terry was absolutely beaming with pride. He and Mom kept repeating, “You will do this!” I will succeed. But I failed. Now I am going home to nothing and I am so fucking scared. Richard kept telling me to go to the embassy in DC and try for either a generic work visa or to use them for officiality once I get a job while in the States. Annida seemed to deem this just a minor setback. I have no faith anymore. Fate is determined that this won’t happen. Oh my god, I would sell my soul to make this horror go away. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. “What happens to a dream deferred?” I have nothing else to hold on to. England was my only salvation. I am going home to months and months of aloneness and alienation. I can’t take any more of that! I can’t take anymore of being worth nothing! …
I always think of this experience as my Sliding Doors moment—the point in time that changed the entire course of my life. But really, that’s not very accurate. Even if I had gotten through, there’s no guarantee I would’ve found a job. Chances are, I would’ve ended up slinking home at the end of the month, tail between my legs, my dream indefinitely postponed, back to square one. Or perhaps I would’ve gotten through, only to decide at a later date that London was too expensive, or just not what I wanted after all.

Also, in Sliding Doors, the moment that changed Gwyneth Paltrow’s life was an insignificant moment: she missed the train. It wasn’t a big, grand, thrown-out-of-England moment. And maybe that’s the whole point: the pivot on which our lives swing, sending us in one direction versus another, is microscopically small. Maybe the moment that changed everything for me was something like that: something so insignificant, I didn’t even notice it. Like today, when I was hurrying out my front door and the sleeve of my trenchcoat got caught on the door handle. I pulled it off and the belt of my coat promptly got caught. I laughed “Fuck!” and then went on my way. Minor, but maybe that’s the point. In getting delayed by a split second, maybe I narrowly avoided getting injured on the Beltway, or narrowly missed meeting a kindred spirit while sitting in traffic—both of which could have changed the entire course of my life.

It’s a cunning little thing, life is.


song heard most recently before posting: 
Just for Now—Imogen Heap

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

miscellany

Happy Birthday, Kelly Peyton Carron!!!

Things have been pretty quiet since I’ve been back. On Saturday I went to Savage Mill, where I met up with Kristen and Mom. We spent a really nice day shopping, and Mom bought us lunch at the brewery restaurant there. After that I went home and worked for a few hours, and then I worked on Sunday as well. On Sunday morning I was awoken at 8:30am by one of my upstairs neighbors screaming “HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! OHHHH GLORY!” etc, etc [insert random claps, stomps, and gibberish that was quite possibly speaking in tongues].

During this upcoming weekend I was supposed to visit to Heather in upstate NY, but because I’ll be bogged down with work, I had to cancel. Ptthhhh.

This morning I donated blood. NIH has changed their security procedures yet again; this time I had to turn off my car, get out, have an employee run a metal detector wand over me, have an employee swab my steering wheel (searching for infectious agents, I guess), and get my trunk searched (the women got a good laugh out of the tacky old record I had stashed in there, which I’ve been meaning to turn into a fabulous purse).

Oh, and this morning I also developed a spontaneous choking fit while drinking my cup of coffee, and it caused me to cough up a glut of coffee that sprayed in an arc halfway across my bedroom. My duvet cover, a library book, a stack of greeting cards I was getting ready to mail, and the brand-new book just loaned to me by my boss all got hit. Damn! So now I’m sending out cards covered in coffee stains, and I have to run over to Borders after work to buy my boss a new copy of the book, keeping the old one for myself. (Although it’s a good book and I’ll be glad to own a copy, generally I’m too cheap to spend money on first edition hardbacks!)

In other news, I feel compelled to mention that Freyja had a smooshed turd stuck to her tail the other day, and I was so paranoid about her developing e. coli from it while grooming herself, I decided that I had to remove it all costs. Trying to hold her down while scraping at her tail with a paper towel wasn’t working, so out came the scissors. Freyja is usually a genial cat, albeit a bit jumpy. She doesn’t like to be held or give me kisses, but she’d live on my lap if she could. Yet she’s also got a rabid alter ego—a split personality, if you will—who periodically comes out. I call it Snappy McSnapperson. And you can imagine how quickly ol’ Snappy came roaring out of his cave when I was trying to trim shit-caked fur off Freyja’s tail with sharp scissors. Thus began the anxiety-fraught queasy tango of me chasing her through my tiny apartment, scissors glinting menacingly, trying to snip off as much shitty fur as possible, while she hissed, growled, spat, swatted, and wriggled free. Her hisses were punctuated with me protesting, “But I only want to keep you safe and healthy! I don’t want you to go into septic shock!” Did she care? No. Such drama in that little buff-colored package!

And finally, does this mean I’m going to hell? Apparently. What a shocker!



song heard most recently before posting: On The Streets I Ran—Morrissey

Monday, October 09, 2006

Rest in Peace, Nigel Jaehnigen

April 1, 1994 - October 9, 2006

And, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of Heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
–William Shakespeare, “Romeo and Juliet”

The snowflake, which was once very much a discernible subsystem of the universe, now dissolves into the larger system which once held it. Though it is no longer present as a distinct subsystem, its essence is somehow present, and will remain so. It floats in Tumbolia, along with hiccups that are not being hiccupped and characters in stories that are not being read. –Douglas Hofstader



Friday, October 06, 2006

I *heart* London

Today is my name day in Sweden! I’m sure everyone is just quaking with elation at that announcement.

In other news, I’m back from London! (Photos here.) I made it home without getting blown up by terrorists, knifed by yobs (there were several yob knifings in London recently; apparently it’s a hot new trend), or happy-slapped by bullies.

The trip was physically exhausting and quite painful. I was careful to wear sensible socks, my walking Nikes, and arch supports, which served me well in Europe last year (I did a ton of walking and climbing in four countries and never developed any blisters, except for that one day in Russia when I stupidly went out without socks and promptly developed a crippling blister on my right foot). But despite these precautions, I inexplicably developed horrifyingly bulbous blisters on my toes, like, the second I stepped off the plane. They were so big, my toes looked malformed. Coupled with all the pulled muscles in my legs (stemming partially from the blisters-induced limping, and partially from me being hopelessly out of shape), I was in agony the whole time I was abroad. Every step felt like knives were being pushed into my feet and legs. But that didn’t stop me from traipsing all over the place! It did, however, stop me from walking like a normal 32-year-old. Instead, I had to employ a kind of stiff, lurching gait, not unlike an arthritic 95-year-old with prosthetic legs. I’m sure it was pretty comical to witness, especially during periods when I was forced to speed-walk and/or jog to get somewhere on time. (Even without the searing pain, watching me jog is a pitiable sight, because I’m so laughably out of shape.) There were times when I thought it would be a blessing for knife-wielding yobs to come along and cut off my feet.

Physical pain aside, the trip was emotionally and mentally rejuvenating, leaving my spirit buoyant when I returned. On Wednesday, after stumbling out of bed in a jetlagged stupor, I saw a menacing stack of freelancing manuscripts leering at me from my coffee table, and there were police sirens screaming down my street, per usual, and I heard crashes and stomps from my neighbors upstairs—typical things I face every day. Before my trip, when I was becoming increasingly burned out, those things would’ve had me vibrating with rage. But on Wednesday I just smiled and chirped, “Home sweet home!” I felt relaxed and wonderful. Yeah, we all know this won’t last.

Here’s what went down:

Thursday, 28 September

The weather was beautiful and my luggage was still light, so instead of calling a cab, I opted to walk the mile between my apartment and the Metro. When I got to the American Airlines check-in desk at the airport, I was immediately told that my flight from DC to NY had been cancelled. They put me on a flight to Chicago instead. The good news is that it left DC at the same time as my cancelled flight; the bad news is that it meant going through Chicago. As in, flying in the wrong direction, away from the Atlantic, thus tacking an extra 90 minutes onto my flight to London. Oh, and when I checked in, the woman asked me if I wanted to supply a name and number of an emergency contact. Ummm...WHAT? I’ve never been asked that before. Maybe it’s now a routine question in this terrorism-filled world of ours, or maybe it’s unique to American Airlines (I’ve never flown them before). I don’t know. But it unnerved me.

My connection in Chicago was very tight. As we landed, I casually looked at my ticket and realized with a jolt that my London flight was supposed to begin boarding at 4pm—which is when my DC flight was arriving. And O’Hare is a big airport, yo! I had to huff and pant and weave my way through the terminal, stopping only to hit the bathroom and buy some junk food at a newsstand (I hadn’t gotten around to calling AA to request a vegetarian meal on my flight, so I knew I’d be starving by the time I got to London; the junk food was meant to fill that growling maw inside of me). I did make it to my gate in time, but barely. I was one of the last people to board. I sat next to a semi-cute nerd who I’m assuming was German, because he was reading a book in German and he didn’t fill out a non-EU disembarkation card. His demeanor was kind of strange, and as an armchair diagnostician, I silently spun theories about what condition he may or may not have had.

I was happy to see that AA followed Virgin’s lead and installed a private screen in the back of each seat, so every traveler can watch what s/he wants on multiple channels. They also borrowed Virgin’s idea of using one of those channels as a route map, so people can watch the progress of their plane and find out where exactly they are. They can also learn the external temperature (the coldest it got outside my plane was -75F), their groundspeed, their altitude, exactly how many hours/minutes are left until landing, what time it is where they are located, what time it is in the city where they originated, and what time it is in the city where they are headed.

Even with taking a melatonin tablet, I didn’t sleep during the flight. I never sleep on transatlantic flights, no matter how desperately I try to do so. And believe me, I did try. However, there was a baby periodically wailing on the plane; a man sitting near me had a loud, ugly, watery cough (Patient Zero for avian flu, anyone?); and in the middle of the night, the people sitting directly behind me suddenly became Chatty McChattersons. They didn’t do this at, like, 7pm, of course. No—they had to wait until 4am when I was trying to sleep. I shot daggers at them but apparently they were immune.

Friday, 29 September

For the first time in history, my suitcase was one of the first bags to appear on the luggage carousel. Hallelujah! It will never happen again. And Customs was a breeze, too, astoundingly. I poked my head into a newsstand and sighed blissfully at the rows of garishly-colored trashy British celebrity gossip and women’s lifestyle magazines (I have an unholy addiction to those magazines; seeing a newsstand full of them is like a crack addict seeing shelves brimming with crack). I marveled over the casino right near the newsstand, and laughed when I saw that there was a prayer room near it. Perhaps people go there to pray for good luck at the airport slots? I was in no particular rush, since it was still quite early, and I knew my room wouldn’t be ready at the hotel yet, so I grabbed a leisurely bite to eat. God bless London and its wealth of vegetarian food. I had so many veggie selections to choose from in that one little airport sandwich shop, and this is indicative of the food culture in general in London. I love it.

After eating, I followed the signs to the tube station. When the station finally came into view, and, for the first time in seven years, I saw that red circle with “Underground” written across it on a blue banner, I broke into the biggest grin. I thought, Oh, London! I missed you so much, you glorious, vibrant, salty old bitch!!! I was so effing thrilled to be back. I had to stand the whole way to King’s Cross, because the train was so full, but I didn’t even care! I smiled the whole way.

My lovely little B&B was only a block from King’s Cross station. And it was right near a McDonald’s, too, which was quite handy, because I am H-O-O-K-E-D on the old-school apple pies still being sold at McDonald’s in Europe (the pies which disappeared from the States like 15 years ago).

It was too early for my room to be ready at the B&B, so I checked in, left my suitcase in reception area (which they later took to my room for me, the dear saints), and took off for a day of sightseeing. My first purchase, at the Boots in Liverpool Street Station, was a box of band-aids (sorry…plasters!), because the blisters were appearing and my cuticles were ripped to bloody shreds from repeatedly reaching into my carry-on and money belt. Then I browsed through Spitalfields Market, which was just getting started for the day (thus many of the booths were not yet set up). From there I went to Brick Lane. I was expecting market stalls to be there but didn’t see any. On Brick Lane I hit an exhibit affiliated with the London Design Festival (it was called 100% Norway and honored Norwegian design), and it was a bitch to find!

I ate lunch outside Liverpool Street Station (a gorgeous cheese and onion pasty; I have been craving them so badly in recent years), then purchased a whopping £18 of deliciously trashy British magazines at W.H. Smith. I bought so many magazines, I embarrassed even myself. Coupled with the hearty stack I bought at Heathrow before leaving, I was vaguely concerned that my plane wouldn’t be able to get off the ground from the sheer weight of my trashy magazines. I pictured the mechanical groaning strain of the plane as it scraped heavily along the runway, sparks flying.

I returned to my room to shower and collapse for a while in a sweaty pile. In the evening I headed to the Barbican for a walking tour (The Blood and Tears Walk: London’s Horrible Past). I was quite early, so I ended up meandering over to St. Paul’s Cathedral, down to the Thames, and then back to the Barbican, where I lolled around for a while, reading a freebie newspaper, watching the traffic roll by beneath me, and just generally savoring the fact that I was finally back in London.

The walking tour was fabulous. Our guide, an actor named Declan, was as funny and engaging as the guy who conducted the Haunted Edinburgh walking tour I took in 2003. Apparently 85% of the people who take his tour are women—a fact which surprised me, even though our group only had two guys in it, and they were both dragged there by their womenfolk. We learned loads of interesting, morbid facts about London’s history!

When I got back to King’s Cross I went straight to McDonald’s to start my pie-eating tour. They obviously knew I was coming, because they were running a poundsaver special—two apple pies for 99p. Sign! Me! Up! Back in my room, I gorged myself while watching Charlotte Church’s new chat show. She and Alan Cumming were ripping apart Americans, but did it in a really funny, spot-on way.

Saturday, 30 September

First thing was a tour of Parliament. It’s only open for tours to foreigners during a limited period of time each summer, and I caught the tail end of the current period. I got there early, so to kill some time, I decided to pop across the street to Westminster Abbey. Then I meandered over to Buckingham Palace, because hey, it’s just down the road, right? Well, yes, but before too long I realized, oh shit, my tour’s about to begin, and I don’t have enough time to get back there. I gasped and staggered my through Westminster on screaming feet, prepared to let loose with a litany of ridiculous excuses as to why I was late, so the tour guide wouldn’t yell “Piss off!” at me. Miraculously, I was only five minutes late for my tour, and they let me in without demanding any excuses. I wasn’t allowed to take any photos inside Parliament, which is probably for the best, because the palace—particularly the House of Lords—is staggeringly beautiful, and my photos could not have done it justice. Every time I take photos inside an opulent cathedral or a palace, I think about how futile it is. It’s like taking a picture of a sunset with black and white film. However, futile or not, you can look at some official interior photos of Parliament here.

Among other things, I saw: the spot that gets rubbed by conservative House of Commons MPs for luck (the spot is on a foot on a Winston Churchill statue; it has been rubbed bare and there is now a sign on the statue asking MPs to please not rub it anymore), the room where Queen Elizabeth changes into her gown prior to the state opening of Parliament every November, the seat where Tony Blair sits during parliamentary sessions, etc. My guide Isobel was great and really worked hard at engaging the imagination and brainpower of the cute little 7-year-old boy in my tour group. (Little British kids are so cute! Except when they’re yobs and bullies, of course!)

My next stop was the London Eye, which didn’t exist the last time I was in London. It was overpriced, of course, and had a very long line, but it was still worth doing, especially since the line moved surprisingly quickly. Stats: The Eye is 442 feet tall and, on a clear day, allows passengers to see up to 24 miles away. It can carry 800 passengers per revolution and is the fourth tallest structure in London.

Security is pretty tight for boarding, and one guard asked me what I had in my shopping bag. I said, “A teddy bear, some books, and jam” (it was all stuff I’d just bought in the Parliament gift shop; note that I was careful to use British English and say jam instead of jelly). When I got to the jam part, he asked me to repeat myself. Twice. Finally I exclaimed, “You know—jam! Jelly!” and he was like, “Oh, jam!” I scratched my head and was like, WTF! Then I realized that I had said jam like an American, so he couldn’t understand me! It kind of made sense, but on the other hand, when an British person says jam, I still know what he means, despite the accent, so I don’t know why the guard couldn’t grasp my meaning.

Despite the presence of two shrill, nerve-jangling American kids in my capsule (they were constantly shrieking things like “DADDY TAKE A PICTURE OF THAT SEAGULL OVER THERE WHAT’S THAT BUILDING DOWN THERE I’M HUNGRY MOVE OVER!!!!” [Parents! Curb your progeny! Please!]), the ride was enjoyable.

The next stop was the Tower of London, so I could walk across Tower Bridge to the Design Museum, which was tricky to find, as it is nestled in a complex warren of crooked Docklands streets (thank god for signposts leading the way). I had lunch there and skipped the Formula 1 exhibit in favor of the Designing for Modern Britain exhibit. The best part was the Design Mart, an annual exhibit of new designers in the UK. I saw such fantastically cool things there.

I set off in search of Bermondsey tube station, and wasn’t sure if I was going the right way because this station hadn’t existed when my old Goldsmiths-era London A-Z was published, and therefore it didn’t appear on the map. Halfway there, as I limped along, some foreign chick (Swedish, I think) appeared and asked me if I could direct her to Bermondsey station. I told her that I was headed there myself, and I thought I was going the right way, but who knows. It turns out I was on the right road, and soon I was on an East London Line train to New Cross.

I went straight to Goldsmiths, and it was so surreal, so wonderful. I knew the odds of the student union shop being open were slender to nonexistent, but I went there anyway, because there’s a shirt I saw in the alumni magazine that I really want to buy. Inside the Main Building things were pretty much the same, and yet there were so many new touches. Lovely artwork was hanging on the corridor walls, the student union shop moved to new digs, there was a new gourmet snack bar in the lounge area and a new upscale-looking café nearby. Waterstones was replaced with Blackwell. The campus also has some new buildings and a new gym. (Annida, when I passed the Goldsmiths Centre for Russian Music, I gave it a wave for you.)

I wandered around for a bit, taking note of the trendy-looking restaurants now sprinkled across New Cross. (Damn, where were they when I was studying there? Not that I had any disposable income, mind you!) Some British chicks asked me for directions to the tube and I felt proud that I could still help them after all these years.

I followed my old route to my dorm, Rac Mac. I didn’t have to consult my A to Z at all; every step—even knowing which side of the street to walk on—was ingrained in my cells. Aside from a few eyebrow-raising new things on Deptford High Street, like a gourmet coffee shop and a shiny new Iceland branch, everything looked the same. I had just missed the Saturday market; everyone was dismantling their stalls. But when I approached Creek Road, I staggered in horror. A massive sherbert-orange and white monstrosity had sprung up in Rac Mac’s stead!! I knew the dorm had been sold a few years ago to the University of Greenwich, but I naively thought they’d keep it intact, even though it was an ugly, impractical building. It was gone, though. Not just Rac Mac, but the entire block. Everything was swallowed up by this McMillan Student Village. I was appalled, reeling. And that wasn’t the only change.

All the addresses in that area were listed (on their signs) as being in Greenwich, not Deptford. What, has that part of Deptford been annexed to Greenwich?? Behind New Rac Mac and along Creek Road were more new buildings, instead of brick walls, decaying buildings, and debris. There was a big new development (luxury flats, presumably), and Deptford Creek was the cleanest I’d ever seen it. There is now a nice walking trail along the Thames between Deptford and Greenwich, running parallel to Creek Road. The good ol’ petrol station (where Annida once crossed into an alternate dimension to buy Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for me) is still there, though, as are The Duke and The Hoy.

My shock intensified when I hit Greenwich proper. Holy shit. A massive complex was on Creek Road, about one block short of hitting Greenwich Church Street. Where did all of this come from??? Part of the complex looked like it was filled with upscale restaurants and perhaps that indie cinema Richard told me about. Next to it was a new road brimming with new shops: McDonald’s, Ben & Jerry’s, Waterstones, Subway, a Clinton Cards, and others, along with the entrance to the new Cutty Sark DLR station. On Greenwich Church Street I saw lots of new shops (including Boots, Starbucks, and Marks and Spencer Food) and tasty-looking new ethnic restaurants. Richard had warned me that I wouldn’t even recognize Greenwich anymore, but I still wasn’t expecting it to look so different. Part of me was heartbroken by all these changes, because I felt all that familiarity slipping away from me. Another part of me was jealous, like, where the hell was all of this when I was there?! I could’ve benefited from these things—especially the Boots! It was just a really bittersweet journey.

After loading up on more painkillers and band-aids at Boots, I wandered over to the new Cutty Sark Gardens, then hit Greenwich Market, which was closing for the day. It was getting too dim to saunter through Greenwich Park, so I retreated to the DLR station. Then I saw that Pier Restaurant—my all-time favorite chippie—was still in business! Elated, I dove in there and promptly ordered my standard fare: a veggie roll and chips, doused with a healthy spray of salt and malt vinegar. I ate it along the river in Cutty Sark Gardens, trying to ignore the manic, badly-in-need-of-Adderall kid who was shrieking and racing around, disrupting my pensive mood. Then more kids came along with their mom and one of them kept singing the Barney theme song. Hell. On. Earth. But oh man, I was in Greenwich, you know? So how could I really be upset? Priorities!

On the DLR train, the driver got into a fight with some Italian dude who I guess pushed past her without saying “excuse me.” She was yelling at him and asking him if he wanted to “take it outside,” and I seriously thought they were going to come to blows. Which would have been awesome. Sadly, the drama simply ended with her stalking off into the bowels of a DLR station, her muttered threats still trailing behind her, while some other driver took over the reins. Yawn.

I was mindful of the passing time and was determined to get home before X Factor started. I thought it started at 7:30 and I was a twitchy mess on every train and platform standing between me and my hotel. I tore into my hotel at 7:35, skidded up to my room, and found…nothing. It wasn’t on. My heart sank, because I assumed I had missed it. Then I consulted the TV schedule in one of my magazines and found that it only started at 8:10pm. Hallelujah! So my evening consisted of a glorious repast of X Factor, Parkinson (his bewildering assemblage of guests included Lionel Richie, Liza Minelli, and Sharon Osbourne), and Ant & Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway (on which some dude from York was slated to win a bumper crop of prizes, if only he could answer one question correctly, and because the question pertained to a recent nugget of British entertainment news, I could answer it! I was yelling “LEEDS! IT’S LEEEEEDS!” at the screen, and he must’ve heard me, because he answered correctly!).

Oh, such a sizzling Saturday night in London!

1 October, Sunday

My first stop after breakfast (and let me add that my B&B served my favorite Goldsmiths-era cereal, which is unavailable in the States, so I ate it every single morning during this trip) was McDonald’s, so I could quickly check my email accounts on one of their internet terminals. The terminal I used was initially difficult to figure out, causing the McDonald’s theme song to blast repeatedly at eardrum-shaking decibels, much to my chagrin. Some sad-looking bum sat down at the terminal beside me and began chatting with me. Being a lifelong freak magnet, this did not surprise me in the least. He told me that he’d been ASBO’d in Camden the night before, even though he’d done nothing wrong, and I was glad that I was up on my British lingo, because it meant that I knew what the hell he was talking about. He basically said that he couldn’t give up the booze, then pointed to the can of lager in a paper bag on his lap to illustrate the fact. He said he just needed someone to talk to. Confident that my possessions were safe (my camera bag was on a hook beneath the table, and wedged between my legs; my money was in my money belt under my pants), I talked to him, rather than running away. He asked if it was my first time in London and I explained that I had studied there for a year and had been there a few other times as well, and he said that he’d studied abroad, too. I asked him where. “In my mind,” he smiled. Hot! I joked that I’d done that too, but preferred London. More chatting, blah blah blah, and then he left.

I went to Hyde Park and managed to track down the Animals in War memorial, which wasn’t the easiest thing to find. It began pouring to a degree where I had to spend a few minutes huddled with my umbrella under a tree, waiting for the rain to subside a bit. Then it was off to the Princess Diana memorial, which, despite being listed on the park’s signage, was rather difficult to locate. I had a small accident at her memorial, which I won’t mention here, because y’all don’t need to know the gory details. I hit the Serpentine Gallery and then walked to Notting Hill and Bayswater via the Prince Albert memorial and Royal Albert Hall.

In Bayswater I was disappointed that, for the first time ever, no sleazy Pakistani shopkeepers hit on me. I guess I’ve lost my golden touch. I did some shopping (buying, among other things, some embarrassingly trashy British books; I could barely look the cashier in the eye, I was so ashamed), and decided to ditch my plans to go to the Whitechapel Gallery (I vow to go there during my next London trip). Instead, I headed to the Institute of Contemporary Arts, via Piccadilly Circus. Talk about wasting money on something that sucks! I was so pissed. There was nothing there. If I’d paid extra for access to their cinema, it would’ve been okay, but I paid for the galleries, expecting to see some art, and there was nothing in them except a movie projector that played static and a sentence written on the wall in neon. WTF! I’ve got a very liberal definition of art, but this was ridiculous. Was the newest exhibit just not set up yet? And if so, why didn’t the ticket guy tell me that? Even the freaking gift shop was closed! I think the gallery is probably great on most occasions, but last Sunday wasn’t one of them!

I stomped off to Trafalgar Square, ate a sandwich and danish while sitting on the floor of Charing Cross station (don’t ask), then went to Covent Garden. This wasn’t initially on my agenda, because I’ve been there numerous times before, but I’m glad I went anyway, because it gave me a chance to blow a wad at the London Transport Museum gift shop, as well as buy cool things in other shops. Some classical musicians were performing in a very funny, entertaining way, and the crowd in Covent Garden was going nuts with glee. It was fun to watch.

I walked to Leicester Square and hit the Photographer’s Gallery, which was very cool. But I also seethed because some guy was letting his little kid run wild in the gallery. Contrary to how I may sound, I’m not a kid-hater, but I do expect people to try to control their kids in public, and I expect them to keep their children away from places that aren’t kid-friendly, so the kids don’t get bored and race around, shrieking. Call a freaking babysitter if you want to go to the Photographer’s Gallery that badly!

After dropping off my bulging shopping bags in my room, I went for a long stroll along Victoria Embankment, from Parliament to St. Paul’s. Beautiful. But St. Paul’s station was unfortunately closed, and I didn’t see any buses around, so I had to force my screeching feet to walk over to Barbican station in order to catch a train home. Before retiring for the evening I bought a slew of those damn McDonald’s pies, and threw a milkshake into the mix as well. At first I ordered a medium shake, then upgraded to a large, and the cashier gave me a look, like, “Of course you want a large shake, you corpulent American pig.” I ate my junk back in my room and watched TV.

2 October, Monday

I was kicking myself when I woke up, because I suddenly realized that by re-jiggling my sightseeing schedule, I’d caused myself to miss one of the reasons why I went to London in the first place: the Kandinsky exhibit at the Tate Modern. Its last day was Sunday, 1 October, and I fully intended to see it on that day. But then I forgot about the cut-off date and, in massaging my schedule to squeeze in everything I wanted to see, I decided to go to the Tate Modern on Monday intead of Sunday. Stooooopid! I missed the exhibit by one effing day!!!

Well, even with this snafu, the museum, which only opened since the last time I was in London, was divine. Having a big honking love of modern art, this place was my cathedral. And it’s free!

From there I went to Highgate Cemetery. Richard and I had been to the east cemetery in 1996, and I wanted to see the west cemetery this time around. However, it is by tour only, and the only tour being offered was at 2pm. Had I not gotten lost while trying to find my way to the cemetery from Archway station, I probably would’ve made the tour. But I missed my turnoff and walked roughly two miles out of my way before finally throwing up my hands in surrender. I hopped on a double-decker bus to go back to the station, and as we chugged along, we passed the road I initially missed. So I got off the bus and resumed walking in the right direction, but still had trouble finding the entrance to the cemetery. By the time I arrived, the west cemetery tour had long since departed. Rather than waste the trip, I went back into the east cemetery, stayed for maybe 45 minutes, taking photos and admiring the beautiful, tangled graves, and then walked to the nearest bus stop and took a bus back to the tube station.

Near the station was a restaurant that supposedly sells vegetarian fish n’ chips, and that was my next destination. But I inadvertently strolled right past it and, once again, ended up walking roughly two miles out of my way. In my defense, the building numbers were all screwed up and misleading, which certainly didn’t help my ability to find this place. When I backtracked and finally found the restaurant, it was closed, even though it shouldn’t have been (according to the schedule on its door). Grrr.

On the spur of the moment I went to Camden Market, which I normally try to avoid because I always see lots of things there that I want, and I didn’t have much money left to spend. I miraculously managed to restrain myself and buy only one skirt this time around. I’m sure it helped that I only hit the tip of the market, deliberately avoiding its temptation-laced bowels.

I headed to Harrods, because I wanted to buy something for Dad and Jill to thank them for catsitting Plath and Freyja while I was gone. On the way there, I read in the freebie Metro paper that Charles and Camilla were going to be at a premier in Leicester Square at 6pm. It was like 5pm at this point, and I was on the Piccadilly line, which meant that I would be passing through Leicester Square on my way to Harrods. Should I stop? Should I try to see them and snap a quickie photo? I debated this for a while and my exhaustion finally won out. I just didn’t have the energy to go anywhere but Harrods and home. Sorry Chaz and Cazza. I’m sure your lives would’ve been that much richer if you could’ve seen a sallow-faced, frizzy-haired American hopping up and down in a crowd, craning her neck, desperately trying to snap a blurry digital photo of you.

I did buy something for Dad and Jill at Harrods, and I also hit the pet department, the holiday department, and the Diana and Dodi memorial. Then I tromped through the Sainsbury’s across the road, buying tabloids and Yorkie and Cadbury bars for me and crumpets for my department. In the evening I ate my last supper (a cheese and onion pasty, a bag of Walkers crisps, and a Yorkie bar) while watching EastEnders, the cringe-inducing Celebrity Wife Swap, Banged Up Abroad, and a lurid plastic surgery exposé called Knifemares. I also packed my heavy suitcase with a heavy heart.

3 October, Tuesday

It was a crazy day: London in the morning, New York in the afternoon/evening, and DC at night.

I made good time to Heathrow, but after I left the tube everything went pear-shaped. The check-in line was ridiculously long—quite possibly the longest line I’ve ever endured in my life. By the time I finally got through it and checked my suitcase, I only had an hour until departure. I bought some more magazines and tabloids, hit the bathroom, and exchanged what little British money I had left. At the Security checkpoint, some guard told me that I could only go through with one bag. But downstairs the signs had said that passengers could have one bag and one shopping bag. When I asked her about it, she said that this was only the case after you go through Security, which is ridiculous. So I had to leave the line, frantically squash my carry-on into my already-bulging shopping bag, and then get back into the line. It took a while to get through Security, and by the time I skidded up to my gate, flustered and sweaty, everyone else had already boarded. I lurched through the plane with stuff flying everywhere: my passport landed at some dude’s feet, my tube poster hit the ground, and my boarding pass went god knows where. I couldn’t remember what seat I was in, so a flight attendant just told me to pick an empty seat, since the flight wasn’t sold out. It was nice; no one was in front of me or on either side of me. The only other person in my four-seat row was a cute British guy who didn’t speak a word.

In New York I was impatient as people slowly shuffled off the plane. I was nervous that I would miss my connection to DC, because I knew the connection was going to be tight. Once free of the plane, I raced to Customs. It didn’t take long to get through, but when I went to gather my luggage, my bag was nowhere to be seen. I was edgy and tense, with sweat pouring off me (partly from the exertion of racing there, and partly because the room was hot). Then the luggage carousel stopped, and stayed still for a good 15 minutes. I was squirmy and jittery and kept looking at my watch. The carousel finally coughed to life and my bag came lumbering along after a few minutes. I snatched it, ran through Passport Control, and headed straight to the transfer desk. The chick told me right off the bat that she didn’t think I’d make my flight. My heart sank. “You can try it, but your gate is like a 15-minute walk from here,” she shrugged. She gave me a boarding ticket for the next flight—one leaving at 8:40pm (my original flight was supposed to leave at 4:05pm, so missing that meant sitting at JFK for an additional 4 ½ hours)—and pushed my bag through security screening. I took off like a shot.


JFK is a big airport, y’all! Getting from one end of a terminal to another is no small feat. Weaving through the frustratingly slow hordes, I jogged and race-walked and even climbed an up escalator (!). My hands were full with my shopping bag (it was heavy and bulky and the straps broke, so I had to carry it in my arms), making me gasp and wheeze and tremble from the exertion (have I mentioned how out of shape I am?). Sweat dripped across every inch of my skin. I pushed through Security as quickly as possible. I got to the gate aaaaand…found that it was closed. The flight wasn’t going to leave for five more minutes, but the gate was closed.

So, I ended up sitting at JFK for a few hours anyway. I bought something to eat, wrote in my journal, read magazines, called Mom, let the sweat dry.

At National Airport, when I was slumped on the floor waiting for my suitcase to appear on the luggage carousel, these screeching little girls were running around, harassing a poor dog who looked partially crippled. The dog’s owner was trying to get the girls to calm down so the dog wouldn’t be so frightened, but it didn’t work. The girls’ parents just stood there, chatting, letting their kids run around like pillaging marauders. One of the girls repeatedly ran up to me, yelling something I couldn’t understand (all I could make out was glasses), and poking my glasses, as if trying to poke my eye out, leaving greasy smears on the lens. And several times she tried to snatch my glasses off my face, too. And again, her parents didn’t do anything about it! I was livid.

It was 10:15 by the time my bag appeared, and I was too tired to deal with the Metro. Plus the handle had ripped off my suitcase, so lifting my bag on and off the train would’ve been problematic. I asked some shuttle dudes how much it would cost for them to take me home, and they said it would cost $26. So I shoved my bags in their van and hopped on board. Gradually it filled up with other folks—all of who were in town for business and were thus staying in hotels across DC. One of the guys was this adorably nerdy foreign boy…Latin American, I think. Totally swoon-worthy. And there I was, a frazzled, disheveled mess, sour waves of stink undulating off me. I was horrified and just sank down into my seat, trying to be invisible. He was so cute and friendly; I wanted to disappear. The driver took forever to leave, and then he took forever to get me home. I finally crashed through my front door at midnight.

Thus ends my latest travel saga!


song heard most recently before posting:  Cold Water—Damien Rice