Milk, no sugar: Black Coffee

You don't even know who she is.
It doesn't even matter who she is, but doesn't it look like she's having fun!
I think it looks like making coffee is too much fun to be paid for - though I know my friends in Starbucks would certianly disagree...
 

Went to Stanford and all I got was this lousy t-shirt

My sister wants to go to Stanford, and so since I'm in the area, and remain a wonderful person, I dug deep into my heart and pulled out enough kindness to go around their massive campus for her.

Never do this if you're tired, have been drinking the night before, or are generally in a ratty mood; it's a huge place and you can easily exhaust yourself just looking for a cafe.
Physics is never the most amazing subject to tour a campus for, not all that much that someone can show you without letting you near sensitive equipment, or sensitive data, and hence tours tend to be rather tedious. No change here - it was slow. What was great though was the day - a sparkling, bright, sunny day. The whole campus looked like some sort of expensively executed care home development where no-one does any actual physical work, but remains cocooned inside, protected from the harsh realities of the outside world by glass walls and air conditioning.
You can lie in the shade in this place and get a suntan from the light reflecting off the golden sandstone which is used throughout. Someone must have owned a quarry - the stuff is everywhere, you can't get away.

Anyway, it comes across as a nice place with plenty of parking space. Of course, it really ought to, as the financial aid accounting department has really got its act together...

"The 2003-2004 estimated costs associated with attendance for the three-quarter academic year total

$40,591

and include:

Tuition: $28, 563
Room and Board: $9,073
Books and Supplies: $1,185
Personal Expenses: $1,770

Nice. I dunno - she might be going somewhere slightly more down to earth unless there are some fantastic scholarships around - my daddy's last name isn't Gates you know. Please!
 

SF Pride

Pride was hot - literally. I was burning up and now my face is all painful and sensitive. Plus, there were lots of fat ugly people there. But overall it was fun and a bit of a giggle with the crazy, massive crowds that gathered for the parade and the immensity of the whole celebration that covered at least ten blocks. It was huge and fun and crazy. More details later.



Ok, so we actually only got there around noon, stupid us, meaning that we actually missed most of the parade. Big whoop. But still, oops. Not that there was any shortage of camp men to laugh at though - this is San Francisco after all. The crowd watching the parade was loud and run, pushing and trying to get a better look at all the participants fooling abuot in front of our faces, and cheering whenever a 'just married' float/car came past.

After about a half hour the parade ended. Just like that - there was no real indication the thing was about to stop until I saw a huge block of perhaps fifty 'safety monitors' walking along, completely blocking the road. That ended it in typical 'there's nothing to see here, big fat dyke blocking your view' kind of style. So we wandered off, around, and then over the barriers to try and find somewhere not suffused with straight people who seemed to have taken over the event. It's nice to see lots of 'understanding' mothers, daughters, fathers and sons, but sometimes you just want the straight people to not be there. But then at the same time I realise that it's amazing they come, something I personally really appreciate and would personally thank them for if I had the guts and the shamelessness.

So then it was on to the food, the beer, the tacky stage and the mini dj stations. The whole event covers such a large area that its impossible to not have something to do, even if it is going to a display of S&M, or a gay line dancing class. I'd go again for sure, though of course it's by far the most fun if you have a gaggle of friends to go along with. I think it's hard to attend an something like pride with just one other person - you don't have the extra eyes and ears that act like a collective radar for anything outrageous, silly or slanderous, but you are constantly having to be aware of whats going on around you rather than enjoying just being there.
Oh, Graham Norton was there looking as camp and British as ever, and then a million acts culminating in Chaka Khan doing an awful attempt at trying to not look old, set. The stage stuff was rubbish but funny, really not that bad... though I did get burnt standing in the sun, which has not been fun.

Anyway, it was fun, busy and hot... all that a pride could ever want to be... just for next year's pride
Alaina's photos

And as she was falling over she grabbed my crotch

She says it was because the BART train lurched forwards, though I don't believe her. I think she just wanted a feel.
The good news is that through a combination of my penis and my grabbing her arm, I managed to prevent her crushing a poor little eleven year old boi who looked terrified afterward. The dear child was such a wimp, rich kids shouldn't be allowed on public transportation, their brains are not capable of dealing with the traumas.

The Edge was a disgusting hole

And the rest of the SF scene includes what appears to be a lot of posturing. To walk into that 'club' which is really a sweaty, crowded, old man's bar, you would not want to be under 21. Old guys go there because they know that there is a faint chance they'll pick up a piece of ass, though anyone with half a brain would take one look inside there and run - which is exactly what I did, only just keeping my pants with me.
We did the Dyke March today though which was fun and then the whole street parade/party that is going on down in the Costa/Market area of town. It wasn't really clear what most people were actually DOING there as there wasn't really a whole lot to do - you could hang around and watch people, go into a bar, or go to a restaurant. For a Saturday afternoon/night over a Pride weekend, I've seen better. I'm not quite sure how San Francisco manages to maintain its reputation as a gay mecca - the fact that there are lots of fags here surely can't be that much of a draw - there appears to be no organisation, no planning or forethought.
I've literally just come back from the street parade - the indication that it's before midnight being that there was not a whole lot to keep me there. I was let down by that because I'd been completely prepared to stay out all night if there was somewhere good, but to no avail, there was nothing I could do.

One thing that understandably caught my eye were two boys who must have been around 17/18, dancing with each other in the street to the music of a dj station.
they had no rhythm.
There were more arms flailing about than in an exploding mannequin factory. They have no clubs to go to for learning to dance in the style known as gay, and so looked SHIT when doing it in public. Poor things, move to another country that isn't quite so stupid with alcohol.
Fuck it.

The Edge

As I'm under fucking 21 and have no fake ID I'm going to have to go to some shitty 18+ club. Trying to find the Edge for tonight, if anyone else is in SF, i'm wearing a faggy blue t with a big star on the front. Camp it up and visit me.

and I saw it bounce

I just fucking broke my camera. It's not working at all and just sits there, annoying me out of the corner of my eye, not responding to any manipulation of stimulation I can give it. It's like some fucking annoying pretty fag boy who won't respond to come ons.
As I was walking back to the immensely massive SUV that we're borrowing, after a while sunbathing in the park, I saw it slide from the pile of clothes I was carrying and just bounce on the tarmac like a beach ball. It bounced and rolled under a nearby car, never to work again.
I hadn't even been paying real attention to the fact that it might fall, so am particularly fucked off about this.
MOOD = PISSY

I'm in San Francisco now

And when looking across the water from our little gated community, I can easily realise the draw of the place and the attraction of living in such a beautiful coastal city. It's expensive and consumeristic, but seems like a fun place to be, to get involved in, and to immerse oneself in.
I'm going to try my best at all three...

hairy boys

Again this is me, looking shitting, but now in California Oregon...  We'd stopped to walk through a park in a little Oregon town called Ashland and A and I made kids of ourselves and stomped along the bottom of the little stream running through the grounds. Of course I could take of my top and look a fool, all pasty and white, whilst she could only grin at my silly nature and feel hot in the summer sun.

I think waxing should be used as a torture technique because she's been doing it to me for the last two days whenever we have a quiet hour or something, and it has to be the most painful thing ever. I really would do anything to have her stop doing it. My legs hurt now.

Still Tripping

Though it took us two days to get down the coast of Washington, Oregon and then half of California, we've done the road trip. What's beautiful about this drive is the landscape and the variety of scenery that one passes through. Funny also, how you become completely oblivious to the most spectacular views simply because you become used to it and the stunning backdrops flashing past don't appear quite so spectacular as they really ought. We drove through the mountainlands, the forests and the plains to come to the foggy, windy city that is the San Francisco metropolis and I'm glad we took the time to drive down as it's certainly been a hot experience.  

Road Trip

Georgie went to church today

And he decided to tell everyone else how to behave. From the pulpit.

"in addition to other kinds of prevention, we need to tell our children that abstinence is the only certain way to avoid contracting H.I.V."

As audience members shouted "Yes!" in response to his words, he said, "It works every time."

Cries of "Every time!" and "That's for sure!" answered from the pews.
Groups that have consistently criticized Mr. Bush's AIDS policy seemed nonplused. No one on a 1 p.m. telephone news conference held to denounce the speech had listened to it.

Does anyone really take Bush seriously on the whole AIDS issue any longer or is it merely like tapping on the glass of a caged baboon - wanting to try and provoke a reaction, any reaction, good or bad - just to show that the animal slumbering inside is really alive. It seems the Bush policy on AIDS is to try and ignore it as long as possible, then spout some rhetoric about it, and then finally drip some money into some Christian groups that deal with the 'problem'. No consistency, no collaboration, no vision.
It's not right.
NY Times link

We're off now

Her parents seem to be worried. Mine didn't really seem to care! I'll be silly and kind and get in the way and listen to pop and endure the 60's.
We are going to survive on energy and protein bars. I love the name Clif now. Trampolines are supposed to be great for you - they just make me sweaty. I found lucky charms yesterday - funny what memories a cereal will bring back!
Big kiss to all the hags out there, I want you!



-patrick

It's been days

It's been a couple of days and I've been doing the Seattle thing with Alaina.
We've done the energetic Greenlake thing, the 'family' thing and the sitting around thing. Tonight we're going to try to get her some practice on doing the gay thing before hitting San Francisco. It's be fun.
Party last night and we danced. I felt like some sort of band conductor, leading the troupe in the new style of crazy. It's fun to dance with American teens - they don't know the whole club dance thing at all because of the ludicrous laws, which makes it hilarious for me to watch and for them to emulate me.

Of course I feel like a complete idiot doing energetic dancing to their music whilst they sway from side to side not knowing where to look.

and it's on to the next

I hope this vacation doesn't turn into a sort of lap of honour where I simply do quick visits with a load of token 'best friends'. I'm moving on to my next 'targets' tomorrow morning and will be with Alaina for a while which I'm sure will be a blast. I can't wait to see her and her whole family; it'll be a hoot I'm sure. I hope.
This evening, walking down the road, I notice that today eveen my palms got tanned. Which is slightly surreal. I think partly I was lucky because I wasn't really in direct sun for that long or very consistently, but was walking through a lot of dappled light, making my tan less of a burning session.
I walked halfway across the city (or so it seemed) today; from central downtown to Fremont/Wallingford. My feet a tired now, as is my head, since I'd worried so much about changing my flight details today that I woke up at three this morning, and then five and then six and then finally six thirty: too much.
Also I need to remind myself of the rules of colons and semi-colons, but really need a simple rule to remember the 'correct' usage patterns. I need a less/fewer kind of rule because that one I find really easy, but never really know if I'm using a colon correctly; subsequently I use them less frequently. I should really read the book on punctuation I bought - the beginning was interesting so it shouldn't go too downhill...

It's been hot

But after finally managing to change my flight dates to allow me a few more days in the States, we did some sunbathing in the afternoon. Of course that was after I walked like five miles back from downtown to the funky Fremont area where my family still owns a house. It's looking a little worse for wear, but still basically fine. I'll be more forthcoming tomorrow when I have time to write. More insights later!
p

Yeah

It's funny walking around Seattle today because I feel a kind of affinity with the place - I'm recognising certain roads and features of the neighbourhoods, but completely missing others. It hasn't been that long since I was last here, but there's still a lot I kind of only half recognise, but that's the most interesting half for sure.
I managed to change my flight details to early August instead of late July, but now I'll have to go to the airport specifically to pick up a new ticket. For some reason they can't just give me an eTicket number to use instead of my paper ticket, so I have to do the whole trek down and back, which is a whole pain. Like all other cities, the airport is in a kind of scummy part of town which is a million miles away from anywhere you'd actually want to be, making the trip long and tedious.
Had a whilstlestop tour of the new city library which was a blast - photos and stuff when I get to a house that has sensible computing equipment that can deal with USB for my camera... and the like.
I decided that just for today I'd put Virginia Woolf on hold and do some comfort reading, so after talking with the friends I'm staying with, Harry Potter 5 was brough forth. I know it's basic and stupid, but it's the kind of thing which is really easy to get lost in with no effort, and I know the story already so I hardly have to pay attention. I'm enjoying reading it.
Back to the book then.
p

I'm here!

After a monstrously long journey, where I've had only 6 hours 'rest' in 48 hours, I'm ready for a real lie down. It's not that I'm really all that tired but that I'm don't want to be sitting down in the same position any longer.
The flights and transfers and immigration and customs all went swimmingly, no problems at all. In fact on both my flights I had seats next to me empty and because I'd checked in before anyone else I got to choose exactly where I wanted to sit. In fact, on the first flight to Newark, the whole row of seats was mine so I could stretch out across the seats too for a little while.
It turns out that the flight I was on to Newark was the first on a new schedule as Continental had added another flight per day from Birmingham to the New York. To celebrate this there were cakes and food and balloons in the departure lounge, as well as a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, a magician and a brass band. The band was actually pretty great, doing a whole range of tunes, but didn't half remind me of the the movie Titanic with all the fanfare of a launch. Not that I expected or worried about any problems - I have no qualms about flying. It was a bit of fun really, just, a bit random!

Better get 'in the zone' as Britney would say, so off to sleep for me.

Yeah

And then I must have slept with some grit or something in my eye because I now have the most raw feeling across my eyelids. The pain and irritation... I'll just have to remember to drink loads of water.
So the UK Independence (right wing reactionary take-UK-out-of-Europe) party did well in the European elections that were held in Britain on Thursday and counted Sunday. They're such as pathetic group - supposedly Britain doesn't have enough money to help support the EU, the EU is 'costing' England 'billions' and because of 'Europe' 'we' are being flooded with 'illegal immigrants'. Absolute rubbish of course, but if you're not informed about any basic economics and/or are an unbelievably selfish person who can't see the benefit of raising the living and social standards of over 450 million people (link). OPEN YOUR EYES PEOPLE, others really aren't that bad, just because they're from Poland and grow the wheat that makes our bread.
Anyway, that was all, it was kinda sad how people think.
And also, English footballers are rubbish under intense pressure. For over 45 minutes they led the way against France 1-0, and then during the three minutes of extra time at the end, gave away two fouls right in front of the England goal, leading to two penalties and then two goals. Nice. They panic under pressure, and go into critical defence mode. Or something. Difficult to not get annoyed by it, even though I hardly care about football, but you just get swept up in it all...
BBC Euro 2004

I'm not here anymore

I'm going to be anonymous from now on. This may be the last post for a while, it may not, I can't really know. I'm flying out to Seattle tomorrow morning and so, when staying with friends, don't know how much time I'll be able to spend blogging. Blogging on their PCs. I'm sure they'll be good and let me have a go, to document the mundane actions in my life, trapsing around the world with a rucksack and a phone for company.
And what company.

Editing the Chinese

Which of the following can the seagulls do?

Swimming

Laugh

Bark

Dances

Fly

As I was looking through emails today, I came across a missive from my dad about a Chinese student of his. This woman needed some proofreading of a test she was setting to some of her students 'back home'. I'd agreed to do this for her, as the test really needed a bit of sharpening up.
Problem is, I'd forgotten about her, and the document. Now I'm going through it, thinking... who cares about the seagull, someone tell it to shut up! But the one thing the thing shows is how tedious language testing is all around the world, that it's no different in China to how it is in Europe. Eugh.

I don't think I'm the best at this

This, being the whole time zone advance adjusting attempt. My eyes are constantly shouting 'stop it, just go to sleep', and every night over the last few days I feel like an alcoholic - as though I've been drinking really heavily the night before to explain the dry mouth, dry eyes, shit skin and general lethargy. But I haven't. No matter how much blacking out I attempt, I can never successfully block all the light from coming through my windows, so despite my wishes of not waking before noon, I have no choice.
I'm normally waking at eight still, which is better than 6:30 but still not superb. I will myself to stay awake, I eat masses of food to deter my body from the slow wind-down of sleep, but my head doesn't want to resist. My eyes are drooping and it's not even midnight. I'm such a wimp.

Shadows of long term friends

My parents are going to Cambridge again tomorrow, and I can't go. I'm going to miss our friends whom they're meeting. The reason I'm staying behind for is a really good one, but I'm still going to miss them. The reason for not going is an exceptionally good one, as some of my best, most amazing friends have decided to have a little 'goodbye for the summer' sort of afternoon meal with me/for me.
But the Cambridge crowd is fun too.

Cambridge, oh wealthy, green, conservative, intellectual Cambridge, how I will miss you. Don't forget you've lost a queen from your bussom today. 

That's one of the list finished

I'm done with The Fencing Master. What a great book, and a really quick read too. I started it, when was it, Wednesday and finished it this morning. I'm the slowest reader the world has every seen so, although I'd read 100 pages by Wednesday night, I didn't really do that much until Thursday night/Friday morning. With the alcohol keeping me awake I read all but the last twenty or so pages of the novel, leaving the ending for a more lucid moment. I love how fast this book is to read - it's not bogged down with side stories and grandiose plots. Many of the books I read appear to do this a lot, attempting to create so much background for the main plot that you loose interest in what's happening.
The Fencing Master is skillfully edited down to keep just the bare storyline of what's relevant, and this results in a quick and yet steadily paced novel that retains the reader's interest right to the beautifully executed ending. I can't praise it enough.
Now I'm onto a completely different kind of book, To the Lighthouse but I'm sure with time I'll enjoy it too.
Ciao!

remind me to tell you the tale

The tale of the missing crystal factory and the rubbish that so many others sell.
Then I’ll mention the overpriced organic grocery store and the frequency that friends get the flu. It's random but it might make sense later...

UPDATE:

Ok so, it's really not as interesting as I make it out to be, but I might as well oblige. We went to a Crystal factory on Friday to get some crystal. It's not that kind of crystal, but the glass kind. All cut and shaped and polished and so forth. Some of it is stunningly beautiful and a real display of craftsmanship that has clearly taken decades to develop. Other pieces look like knock-offs that are made to be sold to the village idiot 'down t'market'.
My mother has a book which details some of the factory outlet stores that sell direct to the public the goods that would otherwise be flogged off in Harrods for almost three times the price. So we drive through the industrial heartlands of the Midlands, the region where guns were first manufactured and the industrial revolution starting as early as 1550 really blossomed. Now there are shopping centres and council estates abound as the people of the region are left behind in the vacuum that is the collapsing manufacturing industry. There's nothing to be done unfortunately, except attempt to go into the higher margin, low quantity but high quality goods markets. This (clearly) takes time to realise and the area is in a dire state at the moment.
To get to the point, we drive around a winding maze of Dudley and Stourbridge roads to arrive at the first site of the morning, Staffordshire Glass.

It's not there.

We are greeted by the site of diggers and newly laid bricks which accompany the second stage of development of a 'magnificent' collection of tatty, cheap, pokey, small and overpriced single occupancy homes designed to rip off the homeowners and shove as many people into as little space as possible, all the while making a fork load of cash for the developer. Quality.
We got some crystal in the end; rooting around for a million years through five different 'showrooms' to find what should really have been possible to find in the first one. What this demonstrated to me was how out of touch the manufacturers really are. I don't need a £150/$230 commemorative urn for my kid's football league, but something that can actually be used and appreciated in everyday life. I don't have time for that.

The other things were organics, which was really just a rant in my head. Do you care, probably not. Just to say, if you're going to run an organic food store, you should at least have the honesty to not pretend your food is low priced. Organic food in boutique-like food stores remains a rip-off because the public and the stores themselves see the market as being able to sustain the prices. I look at the organic apple and notice how it's twice the price of the chemical laden one, but still buy it. That's because at the moment I have money to spare.
But to put a 'new low price' right next to that apple is really just taking the piss. It's not low, it's just slightly less of a grab into my pocket to steal the £5 notes from me.

My head aches

I was out last night with the rest of the crowd, though the old faithful were not up to their normal stunning form. My two best dancing queens deffed out on me and I was left to boogie the night away without them! What will I do when I don't have the option of being silly, playing fun dance with them? That's not a question I like to contemplate.
Anyway, I was out really late last night and only got to sleep around 4AM. As a result I'm knackered today and have just foolishly agreed to meet up with my old friend Kay for a little drink. I haven't seen her for ages so we'll get together around a bottle of wine and she'll tell me what it is she claims will give me a heart attack. It must be some great news, she seemed evasive and as though she had a good story to tell. Slander here I come! 

Van Gogh to Mondrian

At the Seattle Art Museum. I want to go and see it, might as well since I'll be around... I feel in an arty mood. After the Hopper, my thinking head has come back on. Whenever I go for a period of actually having enough sleep and not thinking things through too much, I become keen again to think about art. This could be perfect. On one of the first days in Seattle I could use my jet-lag time to go into the museum really early and before the rest of the day's crowds arrive, and potter about. So many people deride the Seattle Art Museum for its building, that I think it'd be nice to go and just have a look again. I can hardly remember it.
But anyway, Van Gogh, I love his work. A couple years ago when randomly going round a Costco like store here in England I came across their book section. The fact that they had a book section seemed funny to me as the people who shop at these places seem to be much more television people than book people. Anyway, atop the pile of books was a Taschen collection of Van Gogh work which included colour illustrations of every work he produced, or at least every piece known in the public domain. I gave the book to my sister for a birthday or something a few weeks later because she's also a massive fan. His work is certainly an inspiration - if you can't think of colours to paint a room, need inspiration for a painting you're doing or just want to look at how he uses light, Van Gogh's book is ideal. So now I feel quite familiar with his work and would love to go - and my trip this summer is all about this kind of thing - almost impromptu visits to places just because it's possible.

Van Gogh to Mondrian: Modern Art From the Kröller-Müller Museum.

"Seventy-five masterpieces of modern painting and sculpture from one of Holland's premier museums will travel to the Seattle Art Museum. Van Gogh to Mondrian features major works by Georges Seurat, Pablo Picasso, Ferdinand Léger, Piet Mondrian, and Vincent van Gogh, many never previously exhibited in the United States. Jointly organized by the High Museum of Art in Atlanta and the Kröller-Müller Museum, in Otterlo, The Netherlands, Van Gogh to Mondrian will travel to only two venues in the United States"

link

With nothing to do

I will sit out in the grass, sunbathing, and flipping through my pile of books, unsure of what to read.
I've got a great stack to decide from. Although I've got almost a whole bookcase full of books still needing reading, this is a pared down - of the moment - handful.

George Orwell: Nineteen Eighty-Four

Virginia Woolf: To the Lighthouse

Stephen Jay Gould: I Have Landed

Arturo Perez-Reverte: The Fencing Master

Matt Ridley: Genome, The Autobiography of a Species in 23 Chapters

This is tough. Non-fiction, classics, or Modern writing?

Hot night

And then driving back, the sweltering heat continued into the night. It was 'over 25 degrees' still when we got back from London. This was at 10:30 at night. The sun though, in its lingering descent, provided some of the most vivid and beautifully calm skies I've seen for a long time. Though we were hurtling along the road at eighty miles an hour, the skies still felt silent and hot.  

The city was busy

This is the famous wobbly bridge which had to be closed for a time after the paedestrian traffic over it was making the bridge sway from side to side as people walked (accidentally) in step across the length of it. To be honest when I'd walked across it before the engineers carried out modifications, putting in massive springs in the foundations, I didn't notice any swaying. Some people had reported feeling sea sick. I'm thinking they were just a bit lightweight anyway.
It's a bridge only for foot traffic, making the crossing from Tate Modern to St Pauls cathedral a very pleasant and exhaust free trip. This view is coming from one of the Tate's windows in the Hopper exhibit, just in line with the span of the bridge. Lucky I suppose. The 7th June was, I'm told, the hottest day of the year so far, and believe me, walking around town all day with bags and such, it was hot.
By the time we got back to our car for the drive 'up north again, we decided to buy shitting cheap t-shirts from H&M to attempt to feel slightly less sweaty. Of course there was no H&M around, so we had to have Marks and Spencer - a doomed place I hadn't set foot in for several years. I know why that is now, as the chain is chocked full of rubbish. It wouldn't be so bad if they halved the amount of product they sell, but the stores are just too full making shopping a tiresome hunt for what you want.
But anyway, it was hot busy and fun, a real London summer day. 

Hopper

I was essentially in London to see the Hopper exhibition at the Tate Modern, which was a roaring success. I realised that whilst most people think of Hopper's work to be about lonliness, I think it's really about stillness and light. He uses light, shadow, and direct beams of sunlight throughout his work to create moods, and seeing this in many paintings all at once made this clear to me. The exhibition is excellent not only because it has a large range of works on show, but also because it has studies and preparations for the pieces like 'Nighthawks', showing the stages in progress of taking the image to canvas. Certainly something worth seeing. 

Walking to the tube

At the beginning of my trip to London yesterday, we made our way up the typical suburban street, coming across shocking large and colourful rose along the way. Since I'm a sucker for macro flowers, big in-your-face images, I had to take advantage. And the result, when large, is so much more beautiful. Really.  

We're going on a bear hunt

Even though, to be honest, I'd prefer a twink.
No really.

Off to London today to see the Edward Hopper exhibition at the Tate Modern. It should be good. I'm off now. Catch you later!

Got to see Farenheit 9/11

I can't wait. Even the trailer makes me want to see it. Crazy place America. Crazy
link

I want to be this man

I couldn't agree more with Pea that the guy here, Matthew Weber, sounds like the most admirable person ever. He sounds like the kind of guy that you really ought to know, and the kind of guy you really feel you should be. Credit where due.
link

It really wasn't as bad as they say

If you forget the fanciful speed of events, the offhand way the VP dismisses hundreds of thousands of deaths, and the soppy souped up storyline, The Day After Tomorrow can actually be a rather enjoyable film. After seeing the cut and paste (and yet still enjoyable) Harry Potter on Friday, TDAT didn't niggle me with inconsistencies or method acting. It's clearly not something you go to see looking for a cultural education, but a lighthearted (!) and easy movie to take in. There's nothing challenging about it, it's not a thought piece, but Jake Gyllenhaal does a great job at his part as the lost-in-New York son, bringing the movie a bit of personal interface. Whilst he's no lust object, he's not bad to look at either, making the movie that little bit easier on the eye. The effects are really what make the movie - and they're not really effects that make you stand up and say 'that was an effect', but sequences that appear realistic (to a degree). Though the way three tornadoes ripping the heart out of LA is dealt with casually, the monsters of wind themselves look stunning.
It's a fun movie, an easy movie, a date movie. That's all it is, don't begin to imagine it's anything else: you'd be wrong.
The Day After Tomorrow

The best are always the ones who leave

Here's another one I'm going to miss. I heard some really sad news today and I since she's my biggest star, I'm sad for her. We had fun, worked our fingers to the bone, and laughed at each other, the world and everyone. I miss her so much, I can't believe she's gone. I'm going to have to find her one day, grab her and tell her we're going to stick together. We are the best team, the most crazy funny grouping and somehow it works. The team works. Baby, get York ready for me, for come August we'll party the town into the ground. 

Going blind in the dark

My new sparkly lampshade for the lamp I got a few weeks ago as a replacement to one I didn't want, but then decided I'd just keep both. So then I had to buy another lampshade to replace the one on the rubbish lamp so that I've actually got something usable. I know that doesn't make much sense, but basically, just look at the light. It's cool 

...Going mad here

I'm attempting to change my flight dates this summer. No longer do I want to come back to Britain on the 28th of July, but I now want to return on the 4th of August, a week later. Ebookers is telling me the flight details can't be changed. I don't understand how it can't be changed. There is still loads of room on the flight, there's no problem with the seats, the only problem is the airline wanting to squeeze as much money out of me as possible by labelling my ticket as fixed.
Eugh. Dealing with these people is beginning to annoy me, especially when they're trying to con me into thinking the call centre is based somewhere in London by offering me 'direct lines' to the operators where the numbers have London codes. Rubbish, all the operators I've spoken to have Indian names, speak with Indian accents and the most crackly phone line you've ever heard. They're not based in Croydon that's for sure. See here and here.
I don't care that they're not in the UK really, but to give a stupid fake number (which still charges me National phone rates so it's not a saving for me) and attempting to sound British just comes across as crass. Now I'm going to have to call me 'dedicated agent' on Monday to try and see if she can sort something out.
This is why people like face-to-face transactions. You at least have an image of someone to get annoyed by, rather than a distant tinny audio clip:

"thank you for choosing eBookers, Europe's number one online travel agency"

Be careful who you out.

Washington -- As they settled into first class on American Airlines Flight 1438 from Chicago to Miami, they were supposed to be the last line of defense against terrorists -- two highly trained U.S. air marshals who would sit unnoticed among the ordinary travelers but spring into action at the first sign of trouble.

Imagine their chagrin when a fellow passenger coming down the aisle suddenly boomed out, "Oh, I see we have air marshals on board!"

The incident, detailed in an intelligence brief, is an example of something that happens all too often, marshals say. The element of surprise may be crucial to their mission, but it turns out they're "as easy to identify as a uniformed police officer," the Federal Law Enforcement Officers Association said in a complaint to Congress.

The problem is not security leaks. It's the clothes."

I'd completely forgotten about this little secret police force that'll be travelling with me this summer. If only they'd be able to help with annoying, fat passengers who fart and take up two seats with the bulges of their waistlines. Personally, I don't really care whether there's an armed officer on the flight - I'd never expect there to be trouble anyway - but if they are around I'd just let them do their job. Unless I'm stupid and laugh out loud at their obvious status by mistake as I walk onboard - that's the only thing I'd be afraid of doing.
link

Loving shellhammer's info

So I'm going to be in Seattle and SF this summer, and am desperately needing places to go, as the kids I'm with don't know anywhere. Thank god the fag queen Bradford is on hand - able to drop names like anyone, I now know where in Seattle stocks G-Star, my most worshipped brand (Ian), and somewhere to go whilst in San Francisco, namely Laszlo and here. Any better ideas? Watering holes? Plus, he's only 28! Nice stuff for 28.

Sumo Pride

I don't think I mentioned the sumo wrestling at pride. I'm too chicken to try it out, but it looked like it could have been fun. Very messy of course, especially when it started raining, but fun all the same. Scrabbling around in the dirty, feeling like a big fat slob, it's like a Sunday morning!

I'm running

Thought I'd take a very revealing photo of myself moving along the canal path this afternoon in amongst the crowds of people who had suddenly decided to become fit again. I'd run to the gym, done a workout and then here I am, running back again. Is that mad or what. For some reason I always make the mistake of swimming after after doing loads of weights which means that by the time I try and move through the water I simply sink; my arms are too tired to push me forwards so I go almost as slowly as the sloths behind me in the lane. Though of course they're still in the 'fast lane'. I'd put them a very optimistic 'fast'. More like fast in reverse. I mean, there's no rush, but still, the speed some people at my gym swim, it's like they're there just for fun rather than to actually get fit.
But the running was good. Dusty and hot, but that's always good - you get a tan and enjoy the sunshine which is all too rare in Britain. Long may summer reign.

Booking travel

I'm in the middle of the hell that is travel booking. Well it's really not the actual booking that's a pain - I've got my ticket through ebookers and they've been superb - I've had no problems at all with them. What is difficult is arranging people. Because I'm staying with friends rather than in a hotel or something (though that might just happen at the rate things are going), I have to coordinate so many people at once to try and slot everyone in, without pissing anyone off by making them think I don't value their time or their initial commitements.
I'm going to be volunteering on an organic farm for some of my time in the states and the family that runs it can't have me with them the first week I'd expected to help them out. So all my plans have to be bumped back a week, so I have to organise every single person who I'd asked before about the initial dates to try and do the same things as previously thought out, but a week later. This is a pain.
I hope it's worth it. I've never met the family on the farm so I don't know if they'll be mad or whether they'll be my best friends in the world. They sound cool though when I talk to them on the phone. I hope it all works out. Two weeks away anyway - the start is drawing near.

Watch Dale Chihuly

I saw his exhibition at the V&A museum whenever it was, a year ago or something, and it just blew me away. I didn't get to spend as long there as I would have liked, but the light and colour of his work awed me. Today, looking at his website, I come across a video about the exhibition, which just brings it all back to me. I'm going to make sure to see something in the Benaroya Hall in Seattle this summer which has two amazing pieces by him, floating above the staircases on either side of the hall. Just near it, I can't remember exactly how close, is the new Seattle Public Library (link)which jus opened the other day. The New Yorker architecture critic called it "the most important building to be built in 100 years", or something like that. Anyway, it's cool. And watch the chihuly video.
link

UPDATE: Actually, on a bit more reading, the new Seattle Public Library is looking even more cool as I hear more about it. It's odd, unique and terrifying whilst also being light, airy and strangely attractive. Check it out. link

Jealous of the tour

Wanting to go, knowing I won't manage to, but reading all about it despite that. Andy does me a service by somehow managing to remember a million details of her performance that he did manage to catch. Lucky guy.
Want to see it, won't see it, still love Madonna.

Reinvention review

Green Tea Cake

With a Chive's flower head for decoration. My dad had brought these in fearlier on in the day in a little willow-pattern style bowl. I wasn't quite sure what he expected me to do with them, but he just brought them in for the look - rather than dying outside in the sun we can now play around with them atop food! This was all from saturday night and for once, in an odd occurance for me, the cake was amazing. I normally make cakes that seem to rise in the oven and look beautiful but then die and squish down immediately once removed. This one, for once, worked. I was so happy. Despite the hours of chopping food that I'd had to do in preparation for the rest of the meal, this cake was what made me most happy on Saturday night - in that it actually worked!
Joy!