Tuesday

Maybe this place is starting to feel like my place, just maybe. Downstairs feels more like mine than upstairs. It's still weird having an upstairs. When I go up there, I kinda feel like I'm somewhere else. Things are sorta in their places. I'm still trying to figure out the best ways of keeping or displaying some things.

I think a routine will help. I'm sorta at a loss currently, because I don't have anything to do, other than potter around here. I suppose in a few weeks, I'll be wishing for this down time.

Hot damn!

HOT WATER!

My feet are dirty

The maintenance man is in the kitchen working on the hot water heater. I've my fingers crossed that it will be operational this afternoon because I need a hot shower badly. I'm not sure if the people in Target were looking at me funny because I was less than impeccably groomed or because I was talking to myself.

Anyway, Charlottesville's not so bad today, now that I've been out and doing stuff, despite not having had a shower this morning. I went to the post office and the aforementioned Target, and will most likely go the grocery store tonight, if I can get cleaned up.

I really, really, really, really, really, really want to take a shower. I mean really. Really.

I think I'm homesick. It's been a while since I've felt this way.

All moved in with no hot water. No answer from maintenance. I love Charlottesville. Not!

Moving day just started and I'm already sweatin' like a whore in church!

Packages, boxes, and bags

Well, it's all packed. My apartment has been reduced to a small heap of boxes and bags. At first, it was almost cathartic, out with the old and in with the new. But now it's all weird and makes my tum all funny. It's my last night here, a little niche which has been my home for the past four years.

You know, as much as I like to travel, try new things, see new places, et cetera, I like having a place that comforts me to come back to. I know that I will make my new abode comfy and cozy. I always do. But I also know it's temporary, just as I did when I moved in here. And I have to admit that part of me longs for the day when I unpack my boxes and bags for the last time, letting my roots sink down deeply into the sod, grounding. Another part of me wonders if such a day will truly ever come. Only time will tell.

Half dozen

1. Just set up mobile blogging so that I can post things as I think of them when I'm out and about.

2. I know that I need to finish summarizing my trip to the UK, but I'm in the middle of moving here, people. Next week, I should have some relaxing time to myself before officially starting my new position.

3. Speaking of moving, had a minor (now averted) crisis this morning when UHaul called to tell me they had no trucks within a 75 mile radius. Penske came through though, after calling Big Mama, who calmed me down. That's one of my favorite things about my mother, the way she can calm me down. Okay, tearing up here, moving on.

4. This week and last have been a whirlwind of farewells. I don't like it, but now I can focus on making my new place feel like home, settle in, and wait for guests. Have you made your reservations?

5. I'm looking forward to sleeping in on Monday, after all of the moving is done and before I have to start being 'responsible' again.

6. I have had Billie Jean stuck in my head now for almost 24 hours. He may have had some crazy habits and personal issues, but the man did change pop music. I'll be hitting up the iTunes store next week to fill out my collection.

Je me souviens

Scrumptious

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Gene Kelly was hot. I've just finished watching The Pirate, which definitely gives you a glimpse of Mr. Kelly's delicious physique.

Today

Today I'm having lunch with Toni and dinner with Dr. S. Yesterday I had lunch and an afternoon of shopping with my lesbian wife's wife. Whilst shopping I found perfect new bedding for the new guest room. Well, actually, I like it so much that I think it will be my new bedding and my current fabulous bedding will be in the new guest room. Make your reservations now.

I'm getting a surge of creativity. I kinda feel free. Packing up my apartment is not eliciting melancholy. Well, there was a bit initially. But it feels like it's time. I've gotten to this glorious green space on my journey, with many areas to explore. Is it the green space? Is there some little nook within a little wood or a sunny meadow in which to make my space? I don't know. But I feel like it's national park-sized and waiting to be explored.

I figured out yesterday, or verbalized or allowed myself or whatever you wanna call it, that it's okay to be excited about all the new stuff even though things are changing and my daily folks will no longer be daily folks. I was feeling a twinge of guilty whenever I would get excited or anxious, like it was wrong. Oy! Southern Protestants! Anyway, I know there will be proper tears, but I also know that all of my daily folks have plans, or tentative plans, to come visit me in the next six months. And I'll be entertaining three days after I move.

And, ps., the book ideas are even clearer now. Yes, plural. And I can't wait to start painting again. Oh, and then there's pottery and, before you know it, the holiday season. Craftiness...I mean, kraftiness will commence soon.

Writin'

A clear idea for a book came to me today. Not some textbook, scientific thing, but a proper book. It was the weirdest thing. And the even weirder thing is that I don't think it's the only book I might have in me. Do I fancy myself a writer? No. Will they be published, sell, et cetera? Who knows. But they're in there, and at some point they'll have to come out, if only for the process of creating.

Packin'

I've hit my stride on this packing thing. The closets are essentially packed. All that's really left to do in the way of major packing is the kitchen. I suppose when one tries to be organized and have one's things in boxes and storage containers, packing is rather simple. For soft furnishings, I purchased large leaf bags which can accommodate a multitude of cushions, pillows, towels, sheets, and throws. Boxes seem silly and I can reuse the bags for refuse or something. Oddly, there is a satisfaction in getting it done. I don't know if it's in the actual accomplishment of the task, the fact that I'm sort of organized, or what. I don't think it is satisfaction in moving, at least not in moving away from friends and favorite places. But I will be satisfied to be moving away from my current loudass neighbors. Here's hoping for better neighbors in C-ville.

UK Trip-Day Eight

Freshly baked scones with cream and strawberries were on the bill for breakfast on this Bank Holiday, along with tea and a visit from Amanda the neighbor, who reminded me of Jennifer Saunders character in Jam and Jerusalem.

Then we were off to Bath, one of my favorite places. We took a turn around Royal Victoria Park and had a game of crazy golf. Then we made our way to the center and had pasties for lunch outside of the Roman Baths, Pump Room, and Bath Abbey. This was my first experience with the pasty and I was not disappointed. At this point, I wandered off by myself for about an hour or so to give them some time to do family things, and to give me some quiet time.

Into the Abbey I went, found a pew, closed my eyes, and sent out little prayers of all sorts, but mostly of thanksgiving. I took a turn around that section of Bath and did some postcards to the fam before meeting back up with the lass and them. Shoe shopping followed before heading back to the park so that the kiddies could have one last go on the jungle gyms and swings.

Back in Bristol, dinner was leftover roulade and wine with Amanda and her friend, before telly and beddie bye.

UK Trip-Day Seven

Toast and tea for breakfast that morning, as well as packing bags for a day at the beach. Before I left for the UK, I checked the weather forecast to know what to pack. Damp and cool was the forecast, and so I packed accordingly. No shorts were in my bag apart from a pair I had brought to sleep. These would have to be my beachwear for the day, as I had not packed trunks either. One doesn't expect to go to the UK in May and get a tan. Well, in future, one will be better prepared, something I should have learned from my six weeks as a boy scout. But that's a separate story.

Anyway, eventually we were in the car and on our way to Croyde in Devon, hurtling down the motorway at breakneck speed, the Irish lass full throttle. After a couple of hours, we arrived on the sand in time for our picnic lunch and a lazy afternoon.

The weather was a perfect 70ish with a gentle breeze, and plenty of handsome men to watch pass by. The kiddies played and built sandcastles, and the Irish lass and her man had a go at boogie boarding as they had proper wetsuits for such activities. I just reclined on the beach, slathered on some sun cream to induce browning and prevent burning, and relaxed. Perfect holiday!

As the tide came in and evening drew close, we made our way back across the sand and off to a local pub for dinner. Then it was back into the car for the drive back, in twilight and listening to classical music on the radio. A lovely, relaxing, seaside day. And now I've officially seen the Atlantic from both sides. Bliss.

UK Trip-Day Six

After the boys dropped me off at the airport, I checked in and went through to the departure lounge. After a few turns around the various shops, it was soon time to board the short flight to England. I had hoped for glorious views from the plane, but the sky was overcast and all I saw were clouds.

Soon I was back in the Bristol airport, through to the entrance, just as the Irish lass came walking through the door. She was looking gorgeous, with full twinkling smile. We were in the car and off in short order to do some shopping at Sainsbury's, before arriving at Spires View. The family were all well, with the little sprogs not so little anymore. Lunch was a delicious cheese sandwich, with proper cheese and an ale chutney. Then we were all off to take the kiddies to a play park, where we adults could relax and catch up whilst the kids could run themselves ragged.

Back to the house for a leek roulade dinner, wine, and G&Ts. We watched some telly and relaxed, but were soon off to bed to get up early the next morning to go to the beach in Devon.

UK Trip-Day Five

I could smell the delicious, freshly baked almond croissants from upstairs. I came down for a delightful breakfast with Minge, Phyllis, and the wee girls. After we had finished our repast, we were in the car and on our way to Stirling and beyond.

Scotland is so gorgeous and lovely. It truly is beautiful. But, I have to say, it reminds me of Hamlet and the environs of my childhood. Anyway, we were up the motorway and off to Stirling, which was also gorgeous. Minge and I did the castle tour with a great tour guide, whilst Phyllis spent time with the girlies.

After Stirling, we were off to Loch Katrine, stopping in Callander for lunch. Lots of history in all of these places, I might add. We popped into a little shop for some freshly baked delights. I noshed on a leek quiche and Diet Coke. Then Phyllis and I popped into a sweet shop so that I could sample the world famous Scottish tablet (not a euphemism).

On to Loch Katrine we went, arriving just in time for the boat cruise out on the loch. How wonderful it was, given my love of watery things. I could just feel myself soaking up the energy of the place. Such perfect weather, beautiful vistas, and wonderful friends. The cruise was about 45 minutes, and then we were back in the car, on our way back to Edinburgh.

Again, that evening Phyllis went to see his father, so Minge and I walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner where I had a delicious lemon posset for pudding. I must find out how to create such a thing. At the time, I was wishing that I had power over time and space, extending my stay longer, something I had been thinking for quite some time.

That evening I packed up my luggage, as I had an early flight back to Bristol in the morning. My wonderful hosts were up the next morning to take me to the airport and see me off. Again, I invited them to come and stay with me in Charlottesville, or wherever I may reside, at any old time. As long as I have a place to rest my head, so, too, do my friends.

Soon I was at the gate, waiting to board my flight to England and the week with the Irish lass.

UK Trip-Day Four

On my second full day in Scotland, Minge and I made our way to the city to take the tour at the real Mary King's Close, using the tickets we had purchased the previous day. Before the tour, we popped into a café for himself to have an espresso and so's that I could prepare myself for woo reception.

So, Mary King's Close was interesting. There was the ghost of a little girl who followed us throughout most of the tour, but wouldn't talk to me, so it may or may not have been the infamous Annie. I should say that before going on the tour, I was unaware of the place and its history. Minge screamed (loudly) during the ghost story part of the tour. I could smell the imprint of the livestock in the byre, a word that kept popping up after that. This is a word I hadn't heard for quiet some time. There was something in the Chesney house that I didn't really want to encounter. It was an interesting tour and the guide was kinda cute.

After the tour, we walked down to Waverley Station to the M&S Simply Food to purchase a little picnic lunch which we enjoyed in Princes Street Gardens. Then it was on to the National Gallery to gawk at paintings of drag queens and Raeburn's Rev. Robert Walker Skating on Duddingston Loch.

We then made our way up Calton Hill for fabulous views of the city and then down to the Palace. Unfortunately it was shut because the Duke of Whatsit was in residence entertaining the Lord High Chancellor of Something. But the gift shop was open, naturally, so I did a turn around that before we retired to the café for a little respite.

The rain came whilst we sat in the conservatory, so we chatted some more. Some soldiers smoking outside in their kilts shifted our conversation away from lighter fare. Minge was very frank with me, letting me know just how self-deprecating and self-effacing I can be, and how I should just stop. He told me there was nothing wrong with me, at all, and that I had to believe that and know that. This is something that I will revisit in another post, because I want to expand on this topic and what I've learned.

Anyway, the rain dissipated and we made our way back to catch the bus back to Chez Gay. Phyllis had some family things on, so Minge and I went out for dinner and a movie: delicious Thai and Star Trek. Phyllis picked us up after the movie and we were back in our pajamas soon, with bedtime following soon after, for the next day Phyllis was off from work and we were all off on a day trip out of the city.

Half dozen

1. I'm slowly uploading pictures from my trip. The first batch of about 100 can be seen here.

2. This week I really have to start organizing and getting things together so that next week isn't absolutely crazy. But I'm a big, lazy procrastinator.

3. Just got three different emails from UVA about things to be working on. I also got an email for a research associate position in industry. I suppose I should take my resumé off Monster.

4. I didn't cry last week, but I know there will be tears this week. I've come very close. This transition is going to be hard.

5. I need to finish posting about my trip and get everything else written that I need to express.

6. I'm procrastinating.

Film

Just saw the film Pedro at a special screening to benefit a local gay and lesbian charitable organization in the Twin City, and all's I can say is wow. Superb.

UK Trip-Day Three

I love Edinburgh. The end.

Again on this trip, I was struck by the immediate feeling of comfort, home, and familiarity, even more so than last time. Whilst I was in the Bristol airport, I was walking around like I owned the place. I mean, at this point, I have arrived or departed from there eight times. But the feelings were just as strong in Edinburgh, at least in the Old Town.

Day three found Minge and myself enjoying a quick breakfast, after a fabulous night's sleep, then on our way to the city proper. Himself had a pottery class that morning not to be missed, so after the bus ride into town, we split up for me to wander about whilst he went to class.

I walked up to the Royal Mile, soaking it all in. As we were going to Edinburgh Castle that afternoon, I went down the Royal Mile toward the Palace. Minge and I were to meet right after noon in front of St. Giles Cathedral. I will have to go into the impressive structure on my next visit because I failed to do so this time. I also failed to get a picture of the Heart of Midlothian. But too many tour groups were busy spitting on it.

Anyway, I set off down the hill toward the Palace, snapping photos along the way, trying not to look too touristy. I don't know why I hate looking like a tourist, but I do. I just want to blend in, be unobtrusive, and observe, something I try to do in daily life as well on occasion, which doesn't always suit me, or at least isn't done for the right reasons. But that's for a future post.

I knew I wanted to get some souvenir shopping done for my family that morning too, as well as get some postcards to send out, that way my time with friends wouldn't be usurped by such activities. I didn't want to burden them with such inane tasks. This, too, is part of that future post. Anyway, there were plenty of shops to choose from along the way, but I spotted one with a sign in the window proclaiming to be locally owned, so I made a note of stopping there on the way back up to St. Giles.

I finally made my way down to the new Scottish Parliament and the Palace of Holyroodhouse, both at the foot of Arthur's Seat. I was struck by how quiet it all was, not many tourists, people, or traffic at all. And it was all so beautiful, wonderful, and relaxing. It was hard at first to believe that I was actually there. With all of the familiar feelings, the sense of knowing where I was, I had to really take a moment to realize I was actually there, in a foreign land, in Scotland.

After walking around a bit and snapping more photos, I made my way back up the street to the shop I had noted before, Neanie Scott, where the charming proprietress Kathryn made me feel more than welcome and I found some great things to take back to the fam, along with postcards and stamps. Since I had the stamps now, and some more time to kill, I decided to walk back up to St. Giles, grab a Diet Coke, write in my journal, work on my postcards, and people watch. That's when I encountered the first woo of the day.

There had been a little woo the day before at the airport, but nothing really significant, just the iPod doing things of it's own accord (shuffling between songs without being touched or set on shuffle). But while I was sitting in front of St. Giles, something passed through my peripheral field. I looked up, expecting to find a pigeon, but instead found an orb. A perfect little orb was bobbing across the pavement. And then there was another. No one else seemed to notice, and they're not that foreign to me, so I went back to my postcards, secretly content that I was tapping into some Scottish woo.

After Minge turned up, we walked down a little ways to have lunch at Garfunkel's. I had the jacket potato and salad. We then made our way up to Edinburgh Castle, where the views were absolutely breathtaking. We peeked into St. Margaret's Chapel and examined Mons Meg. We then made our way into the War Memorial. I began to vibrate a bit from the energy in the place, my knees buckling a bit. The emotional imprint was so strong. Then there was the music. I heard a choir singing, as if it were in the next room. But we went to the next section and no choir. I asked Minge if there were a choir or if they played music. Nope. So, here I am, hearing some distant choir sing in a language I couldn't understand. But it was beautiful, so I didn't mind. I asked little Minge if talking about woo bothered him, and he let me know that it was fascinating and that I was free to do so. There again, I'm apologizing or asking for permission to be myself.

We did the crown jewels tour, roamed around a bit more, and then realized we needed to start making our way onward. Minge wanted to take me to a particular cemetery to see what I would 'pick up'. On the way we passed the former location of the Cook's Bookshop, which was run by Clarissa Dickson Wright of the Two Fat Ladies. It's now a restaurant. Then we were off to the statue of Greyfriars Bobby and the cemetery. As soon as we walked through the gates, I could feel the woo, and my little Westie was with me. Angus, as he was called, is a pet from my previous life in Edinburgh. He's been coming around regularly now since Level IV Healing Touch.

Anyway, we found the spot where Bobby sat. Of course, he was there. I could feel him and see him lying there on his spot. Minge told about the how the ghost in the black mausoleum is violent, scratching people and ripping their clothing. When we came around to the location, the gate was shut and we couldn't actually go in. As he was describing to me what happened to the people who were imprisoned there, hot and blinding pain hit me in the back of my neck. When I asked how they were killed, he told me that they were stabbed in the back of the neck or perhaps beheaded.

As I raised my head, I saw the ghost of a man standing outside the so-called Black Mausoleum. If ever there were someone who looked the picture of malevolence, it was this man. He had this smirk on his face, as if to say, "why don't you just come down here so that I may torment you." He knew that I could see him and that I had my defenses up. But given the chance, he was going to try to get through to me, to try to harm us. But with the gate locked, we couldn't go down there. And with Angus, he couldn't come any closer. All I got from his was "MacKenzie".

We walked onward to leave, passing a tomb on our right. My hand went out immediately to feel it. Minge said that he thought this was the location of someone associated with that events that had happened there with the Covenanters. He was definitely right. There was a grill in the doors of the tomb. He said there was no amount of money in the world to get him to peer inside. Of course, I had to look. All that was inside was some slowly undulating mist, a wraith if you will.

Soon, we were out and off to have a cup of tea near the Meadows before catching the bus back to Chez Gay. That evening vegetarian haggis and neeps and tatties were on the menu, along with a delicious cheesecake. It was all heavenly, including the haggis, which was surprising. After dinner, as it wasn't raining, Minge, Phyllis, and I decided to head to Arthur's Seat with the wee dogs. We drove up as far as we could and then set out for the top.

Of course, halfway up, the rain began to pelt us. But I was determined to make it to the top, despite the heavy breathing and sore quads. The moments at the top were brief, but the view was glorious. Hopefully, on my next visit, the hike up will not be so taxing, with myself being in a state of physical fitness.

We took our wet selves back to the house for pajamas and hot drinks, and a few homemade custard cremes. Soon it was time to crawl back into the sinfully comfortable bed for deep, relaxing sleep.

Bittersweet

I likes me some bittersweet chocolate. But that's really the only thing I like in the bittersweet variety. The current transition I find myself in is of the bittersweet variety. Bitter for the moving away from a place and people that I love. Sweet for the new opportunities and challenges.

Seems like lots of people in my many circles are in transitory phases as well. Of course there are those who have graduated too and have moved or will be moving on to something new, like Ree Ree, who I will miss seeing on a daily basis. But even friends not associated with grad school or across oceans seem to be in transitions as well. I knew 2009 would bring change, but I didn't realize it would be on such a grand scale.

I suppose, at the end of the day, it is all a good thing. But, at the present, it's not helping me with those lofty personal goals of mine, as my little gray cells get bogged down with the bitter whilst trying to hold on to the sweet, making old habits die that much harder.

Stupid bitter.

Moi time

So, I alluded to personal goals in my last post. I've pretty much decided that my goals for the next two years whilst I'm in C-ville are really more about me than my career per se. Perhaps that isn't the best way to go about it, but I feel like I've been putting a lot of personal things on hold for far too long. And I feel like I've the skill level in my professional life that will allow me to put some more effort into my personal life.

So, not only will I be working hard in my job/career, trying to make the world a better place, I will be working hard on me, really working at getting me to a better place. We're looking for clean slates here, folks, or at least wiping some of the crap off the board that seems to have become rusted into place.

Health and wellness are the goals, and I'm using these words on every level, to incorporate physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual wellness. It's time that I treat myself the way that I should, the way I deserve, and the way that I want.

To borrow from Elphaba, it's really and truly time to try defying gravity.

UK Trip-Days One & Two

I suppose I should begin recounting my trip on the day that I actually left (Day One), rather than the day I arrived (Day Two), not that anything exciting really happens until the end of Day Two, when I finally reach Edinburgh.

So, my lesbian wife took me to the airport here in the Gate City. Of course, the airport here is minute and the two hour window for international flights makes no sense. But it was lunch time and could fit into her schedule better that way, I suppose.

Anyway, the airport was dead on that Monday afternoon. I mean dead. At least when I first arrived. About thirty minutes before my flight to Newark, things began to pick up at the gate, but the flight was far from full. The flight was uneventful and I got to Newark with a few hours to kill. I had brought Bleak House to finish reading on the trip, which didn't happen. I did read it whilst traveling there, but had something else to read on the way back.

I'm not a fan of the Newark airport. The international terminal is better than terminal A, where all of the little domestic flights leave. I got a slice of pizza as I was starving and even though I would be having dinner on the flight to Bristol later. But I had had nothing to eat that day (thanks, Greensboro airport) and was famished. As an aside, one of my personal goals for the next two years in C-ville, which I will write more about soon, is to get my disordered eating under control.

Anyway, Newark is sucky and I was ready to get on the plane and be on my way. I had brought with me the same travel journal I had taken on my previous trip. On that first day, I wrote a lot about how really different everything was this go-round, even though it had only been two years. My life has changed a lot in that space of time. I mean, I was traveling three days after graduation, with graduate school done and dusted and a new position on the horizon. But despite all of the change in the past two years, I had a feeling that once I was in the UK, I would feel at home, all would be familiar, and my friends and I would pick up right where we left off.

The plane from Newark to Bristol was bigger than last time, with more leg room and an entertainment system for each seat, which was nice. I watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix whilst I noshed on my vegetarian meal, an acceptable curry. After the movie, I tried getting some sleep, knowing I had a long day ahead of me once I landed.

Breakfast on the plane was a warm croissant, and then we were there 45 minutes early. Now, if I were being met at the gate in Bristol, this might have caused a problem. But as it was Tuesday morning and the Irish lass had to work, it was not a problem at all. See, I had booked an EasyJet flight to Edinburgh for that afternoon. Unfortunately, there wasn't a flight available until 4:00pm, and it was now 9:00am.

I had thought of taking the train, even though I know it's a long haul. But at least during all of that waiting time I would have been going somewhere. ps. You don't want to spend the majority of the day in the Bristol airport, believe me. It's not very big, and there's not a lot of shopping or food options.

I found a seat and sat, writing for a while, reading for a while, listening to the iPod. Various and sundry Europeans would come and sit next to me, reminding me of the different concept of personal space in Europe versus America. They had computers with internet access (10 minutes for £1), so I could email Big Mama and let her know that I had arrived safely. I had a Diet Coke, because, again, nothing really suitable for lunch in either the lobby or departure lounge. After endless hours, with a long wait at the gate, I was finally aboard my flight and on my way to Edinburgh. I was anxious, excited, and nervous. I had only met Minge the one time on the previous trip, and had never met his partner Phyllis.

I should never have been worried at all. I was met at the baggage claim in Edinburgh by two handsome men, with hugs and kisses. This was just the beginning of their gracious and warm hospitality. Minge was just as he had been (except for the beard) and Phyllis was ever so dishy in a suit, having just finished with work. We were soon off in the car for a quick trip round the city on the way to their home, which Brian has named Chez Gay.

My guest room was so comfortable and well turned out, with the most marvellous bed. The pair made delicious homemade pizzas for dinner, topped with rocket and a balsamic reduction. There were homemade custard cremes waiting as well, along with an exceptional gin and tonic. After dinner and conversation, I gave out the prezzies I had brought over for the two of them and the wee, dear dogs. Minge and I made a plan for the following day, and we were off to bed soon enough, all of us knackered. The bed was a dream and I fell soundly asleep.

Facebookin'

I like Facebook and I don't like Facebook.

I like the window-into-the-world-of-your-friends aspect of Facebook. It's a not-so-personal way of keeping track of people and at least knowing where they are, what they're doing, et cetera.

I don't always like all of the inane status updates and quizzes and crap. But I like the fact that you can hide these things.

And I don't like how people you've not spoken to in years, with whom you had a strained or non-existent relationship in the past, suddenly think time hasn't moved on and wonder why you are ignoring them or something. They send you messages asking what they've done to you or why your mad at them.

Dear person from my past,

Uh, we've not spoken to each other in x years ( x > five years). What do you want from me? I mean, you've really caught me on a bad day, because I'm not in the mood for this. I don't know what you expect from me or want me to say. Even when we were in better communication, our friendship was strained. There are obviously reasons why people fall out of touch, but I really don't have the time, energy, or inclination to delve into the recesses of my mind to figure out the particulars of this case. The simple fact is that we don't know each other anymore, I've moved forward with my life, and don't feel like attempting to resurrect a friendship that really wasn't working when it fizzled out.

Best of luck and all that jazz,
Bitch

That's what I want to write. Will I? No. I'll try to find some tactful way of putting it. But it's the gist of it. Am I sorry for hurting this person's feelings? Yes. But life is increasingly shorter and I would much rather focus my energies elsewhere.

Losing or outgrowing friends is a part of life. It sucks and I don't like it, but it's a fact. Whether for good or bad, some people drop in and out of our lives. Sometimes they're the people we'd least expect. Uh, when was the last time I heard from Old Mavis? Couldn't tell you. Would I have expected it to end this way a couple of years ago? No. But am I really shocked? Not when I think about it.

Friends coming and going is one of the things I really dislike. And, since I find myself in a massive transition, some of my friendships are going to be tested. I know this. It sucks, but it's life. I know that some will not make it, but some most definitely will. However, I have learned not to gamble or try to figure out which ones will thrive and which ones will bite it.

ps. I'm kinda bitchy this morning.

Pyramid

Things that are pants...

Migraines
American food
Migraines
Humidity
Migraines
Headaches
Migraines

Tony

Last night was the first time I've watched the Tony Awards in a couple of years. I know I missed it last year when Whoopi hosted. I have to say that I enjoyed Neil Patrick Harris as a host, if only because he's cute as a bug's ear. I mean, seriously cute here, people.

But other than that, and a few moments here and there which mostly involved some hot men (Will Swenson from Hair and the dude playing Tony in West Side Story; uh, yowza!), the show felt kinda flat. I know they had technical issues with sound, and some of the camera work left a lot to be desired, but they didn't conjure up the same feelings they once did.

When Marcia Gay Harden accepted her Tony last night, I remembered watching in 1993 when she was nominated for Angels in America: Millenium Approaches. At that time, the Tony Awards were a glimpse into a world I could only dream of experiencing. That being said, the previous year, on a band trip in 1992, I had revelled in the sight of Gregory Hines in Jelly's Last Jam on Broadway. I don't know. I really didn't care for the musical numbers this year, especially the ones from the touring companies. Maybe in years past, the numbers were more my cup of tea. Maybe they don't hold such mysticism any longer because I don't feel like they're out of my grasp. But I do have to say, there is nothing like seing a live show on Broadway, and I am WAY overdue. Perhaps Big Mama and I will have to see something whilst there on the trip to Rockefeller Center next holiday season.

In any event, I loved watching Angela Lansbury win her fifth Tony Award. I found the memoriam sequence quite touching. And when Liza first came on stage during the opening number, I kept thinking about the episode of Ab Fab when they describe the way Liza moves around the room, as seen below (at about 8:20).

In case you were wondering...

I've spent pretty much all of the last three weeks away from my abode. After the UK trip, I was here for a day before heading to Charlottesville (my future home), and then Hamlet to visit my family. I've just gotten back to the Gate City.

There's a LOT I want to write/post here. In fact, I think we might be getting back to some regular blogging action as I wade into this new section of my life. I'm not sure if it's a chapter, era, epoch, footnote, etc. I guess I really won't know until I move on to the whatever-it-is after that.

Anyway, I'm gonna watch the Tony's and then hit the hay. I'm looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again. Though, to be honest, if it were at all possible, right now I would hop on another plane to the UK in an instant.

Highlights

The bitch is back, from the UK that is. It was a fabulous jaunt and there will be more to come (I promise), but a bitch is jet lagged. So here are some highlights.

Vegetarian haggis
Scaling Arthur's Seat in a downpour
Meeting a ghost in Mary King's Close
The view from Calton Hill
Sailing on Loch Katrine
Gin and tonics
Sunning on the beach at Croyde
Meditating in Bath Abbey
Pasties
Champagne cocktails in Harvey Nichols
Scones with strawberries and cream