The Sun Also Rises

Georgia On My Mind

2011-10-22T13:07:00.000+01:00

This is my brother, and I'm very proud of him.

2011-10-15T23:34:00.000+01:00

Directions by Joseph Stroud

"How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world

Take a plane to London.
From King’s Cross take the direct train to York.
Rent a car and drive across the vale to Ripon,
then into the dales toward the valley of Nidd,
a narrow road with high stone walls on each side,
and soon you’ll be on the moors. There’s a pub,
The Drovers, where it’s warm inside, a tiny room,
you can stand at the counter and drink a pint of Old Peculiar.
For a moment everything will be all right. You’re back
at a beginning. Soon you’ll walk into Yorkshire country,
into dells, farms, into blackberry and cloud country.
You’ll walk for hours. You’ll walk the freshness
back into your life. This is true. You can do this.
Even now, sitting at your desk, worrying, troubled,
you can gaze across Middlesmoor to Ramsgill,
the copses, the abbeys of slanting light, the fells,
you can look down on that figure walking toward Scar House,
cheeks flushed, curlews rising in front of him, walking,
making his way, working his life, step by step, into grace."

This is true. You can do this.

The Pre-Post-Post-Pre-Christmas Post

2011-07-25T23:47:00.002+01:00

Yeah, that's right; this is the post that's going to come before the follow-up to the pre-Christmas post that I posted in July.

Yesterday Jo and I decided to forgo the indoor gym and instead went to the old Brontë village of Haworth, west of Leeds, to celebrate the Return of the Rainless Sunday. Started out in Haworth town, walked around the Brontë's old churchyard, and then out across the moors to - originally enough - Brontë Waterfall.

Very pretty, five and a bit miles all told, and only a little sunburn and sore legs today as a result.

Photos!

Apothecary in Haworth. In sepia.


Moors

Jo on the moors

Looking down at the valley.

Brontë Waterfall

I have a gamboling problem.

Pre-sunburn and sore legs.

It's Beginning To Look Too Much Like Christmas

2011-07-17T03:06:00.011+01:00

Hey everyone!

I decided to try and jump-start this blog again. So how am I going to jump-start it? By posting a post I last updated on November 11th 2010 and never finished! In all its incomplete glory! But there are photos though, and those are fun.

So leave me comments and make me feel bad for neglecting this blog for so long!

Love,

--Thom Abroad-->

Greetings all,

This post started out about a month and a half ago, and I got distracted and came back to it and added to it, and then more distracted and didn't write anything, and now it's almost Christmas and if I don't put it out soon I'll lose the will to live.

It's winter now. Snow has come and gone and come back again, and the flat is reaching a nice shade of "frosty" every morning. There are Christmas decorations in shop windows, carols are being played through loudspeakers, crap boy-bands are "officiating" the turning-on of Christmas lights. It can only mean one thing: Halloween is over.

Well, no. I don't mean to sound like some green Seussian setting up a how-to holiday home invasion blog; I just don't like hearing Christmas carols before Thanksgiving. Oh, and a belated Happy Thanksgiving to family and friends in the lower half of North America! I hope your gatherings were warm, full of laughter, and the basis of happy memories you can hold in your hearts for years to come. And and if you wanted to post pictures, that'd be cool too. (The same applies for friends and family in the top half of North America as well. C'mon Canada, stop being difficult; Thanksgiving and November go together like maple syrup and touks.) Over here, Jo left work an hour early to create a beautiful Thanksgiving spread of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, roast vegetables, beans, corn and rolls, before having to go to band practice and try to trombone through the tryptophan. I showed my appreciation by washing up and then calling my family for two hours.

All this holiday nostalgia/end-of-year reflection has led me to two conclusions and subsequent feelings:

This year has been pretty good, but has gone really fast; which makes me feel kind of sad that it's almost gone. And also old.
I haven't updated this blog nearly enough; which makes me feel lazy and guilty. And feeling lazy makes me feel guiltier.

So how to summarize the past 2-3 months... It was summer, and I did things and saw people and had fun and didn't write much about it, and then it was September and students came back and made me have to work. And autumn arrived, and I did some more things and more fun was had - like music and books and the such - and the leaves turned pretty and fell off the trees and the clocks went back and daylight went on holiday. And now it's almost winter and the decline in the amount of daylight is matching the decline in my amount of motivation to do just about anything. A couple of weeks ago I fell asleep on the sofa about 10pm, having caught most of (but not all of) an episode of Time Team where they didn't dig up much of anything. This is a bad analogy for my current life, but it's early, and I'm out of practice. Today is sunny and I'm writing. Coincidence? I think not. (I've also had two cups of tea already, which may have some beneficial effect.)

So it's boring, but really the only way I can do an update at this point is to make a list of the past couple months' happenings (Jo is laughing at me, or will be when she reads this). So here goes:

August:

Haggis: An eye-opener.

End of July/Beginning of August was Iain and Minori's wedding/anniversary party in Aberdeen. Flew up and back with Francis and Ayaka (who are now engaged - congrats guys!), got to see good friends, wandered around Aberdeen a bit, got to see the Tartan Day parade (which is a little smaller than Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade), met up with Iain at a coffee shop (Minori and family were clearing out Primark), went to a pub, got to eat a haggis, went to another pub, went to another pub, went back to the first pub, went back to hotel and took a nap, got dressed up and went to the ceilidh. Danced more than is humanly (or humanely) necessary, and then got to share some whiskey with the boys. All in all, a very Scottish day.

Me, Ayaka and Francis, snacking on local delicacies.

Me, Iain and Francis.

The next morning we bit adieu to Iain and Minori, who were traveling to see family and then back to Japan, and then, being by the sea, we went to the seaside (after the pub). We looked at the beach while it poured it down. During a break in the rain we did a typical seaside activity and played pirate minigolf. Stayed until early afternoon, when Francis, Ayaka, Jo and I caught a taxi back to the airport and flew back to Leeds. Very fun 36 hours.

(l-r) Leslie, Chris, Dan, Francis, Ayaka and me at the beach.

Pirate mini-golf: It's harrrrd.

A week later we hopped on another plane and flew out to the "Middle Coast" of the US to see friends and family. Got to spend my 30th at Lindsey and Brian's wedding (which should make their anniversary easy to remember!), and spend many other days haphazardly meeting people

September:
In the words of the venerable Samuel Clemens, aka Mark Twain, "Pulled through."

The first volume of Twain's autobiography was recently published as per his wishes, one hundred years after his death. I will be following this path and posthumously publishing my memoirs one century on. When they are released they will consist of all my published blog posts, as well as unfinished posts and Myspace-era photos. You may commence hoping for huge breakthroughs in life-expanding medical technology.

I worked a lot, but I think that's been touched upon before. Onward! Onward!

October:
October was unofficial music month, as I got to see three great gigs in Leeds, namely: Grinderman, Sam Barrett/Pine Hill Haints and Rumpfest (the peculiarly-named music "festival").

Grinderman. Oh man. Just a mini Seedling tour, or Nick Cave branching out to give us more kinds of awesome? Don't know, don't care - this was one of the best shows I've seen in a long time (discounting the fact I haven't been to many shows recently). I've been listening to Nick Cave for about ten years, but this was the first - and hopefully not only - chance I've had to see him. Cave is like some pentecostal revival preacher out of a Flannery O'Connor story, all dirt and fire and noise and showman. And I'm not entirely sure, but he may be the one person who could take Chuck Norris in a fight.

The second show was a free gig at the Duck and Drake, an old-man pub in Leeds, with Pine Hill Haints and Serious Sam Barrett. Much fun and even Jo enjoyed a crowded pub and music she'd never heard. And if you haven't yet heard Sam Barrett, you should either watch the video in the last post or check him out here.

Rumpfest at the Brudenell Social Club was less of a fest than ten bands (including personal favorite Cory Branan) for ten pounds for ten hours in a pub. Could be worse. And a veritable musical smorgasbord it was: ADHD-punk, old-metal, angry folk, countrified rock, and Cory Branan's own brand of lyrical and musical awesome. Even got to chat with Mr. Branan for a bit about music, the American South, Argentinean poetry and British beer:

Me: Hey, you want a beer?
Cory: Sure! I'll have whatever you've got.
Me: Well, I've got a double chocolate stout, but they've got a really nice banana bread beer if you'd like?
Cory: Do they have anything that's not made of candy?
Me: Pint of John Smith's it is!

Read the full flyer

Have you heard the one about a collection of sci-fi short stories based on a web-comic that was independently published on the exact same day as Glenn Beck's new book and actually beat him to Number 1 on Amazon, which annoyed Beck so much that he labeled it part of "a culture of death"? Well, this book did just that.

Machine of Death is based on the premise that in an alternative present/near future there is a machine that can accurately predict how you will die, though not necessarily clearly: you could get 'Sky Diver' and spend the rest of your life watching the skies for malfunctioning parachutes only to be crossing the road one day and blam! get hit by a weekend parachutist who is late for work. Probably not a book you'd find in Family Christian Bookstores, but still an interesting look at the eternal question: "If you could know how/when you were going to die, would you?" It's a very good read, and as of time of writing, there's a free copy available here! If you like it though, please pick up a "real" copy; these guys have put a lot of time, effort and money into accidentally becoming enemies of Glenn Beck and the decent, hardworking entrepreneurs of America.

Wow! What a month!

November:
Briefly considered writing a bad novel as part of NaNoWriMo - the National Novel Writing Month - but rejected that idea when I realised I don't actually have the dedication to finish a 200-word blog post in a month, let alone some 50,000-word literary monstrosity. Instead I think I'll try to finish the blog post and work from there. I'm also wondering if I've actually got any stories inside me that are trying to get wrote. Maybe in December instead? Hmm...we'll see.

Currently reading 'Decline and Fall' by Evelyn Waugh. Surprised I haven't read anything by Waugh before now, but seeing as how my "literary journey" has included C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, G.K. Chesterton and Graham Greene, I expect to be C of E at least by the time I finish.

Other stuff I've read recently:

All The Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy - a beautiful, harsh coming-of-age story about a young man who runs away to Mexico where he finds love, death, the law and the human condition. And horses.
The Moviegoer by Walker Percy - what we don't say when we say something.
The Book of Dave by Will Self - the story of how a London cabbie's life falls apart and the dystopian future religion he accidentally inspires.

Oh, old story that I forgot to tell you: we were driving home from Jo's parents house after getting back from America in August, and Jo's car died three miles from home when we stopped to pick up a pizza. This led to a few car-less months which weren't too bad (we don't live very far from the shops) but not incredibly conducive to travel beyond the immediate area. Jo's now got a new (used) car, a 2001 Toyota Yaris, which is blue and drives pretty well (as far as I can tell). It has a CD player, can tell you the temperature, your miles-per-gallon AND kilometers-per-litre and has more buckets and storage crannies than I know what to do with. And thus you have a summation of my knowledge of the automobile.

I told you that story so I could tell you this one: Two weekends ago (Does time fly? Like arrows, just like fruit flies like bananas.) we headed out to the wilds of North Yorkshire for a nice weekend away. Drove up on Saturday early, dropped our stuff off at the Eastfield Lodge Bed & Breakfast, a nice little B&B in Leyburn, and went out for a walk in the Dales near Aysgarth. Had a good walk around Aysgarth Falls (slightly smaller than Niagara), managed to walk the wrong way around four-mile trail by mistake (we were on the right path, but the directions didn't make any sense), up hill and over dale, not get stuck in the mud (despite some valiant attempts at it), took some fun photos, headed back to the B&B and went out for a pub dinner. Leyburn is a very nice little market town in the Dales, but heavens I'd get bored living there (no book shops, see).

Leyburn is also near Wensleydale which, if you're a cheese lover, means something. (If you're cheese lover and it doesn't mean something, it means Wensleydale cheese - a delicious creamy semi-soft cheese which is great on crackers, and is positively sinful with cranberries in it.) I'd send you some, but it gets all mushy in the internet.

Wallace and Gromit.

Got up relatively early on Sunday and headed out to the Thorpe Perrow Arboretum and Mammal and Raptor Centre. (I know what you're thinking: you're thinking 'How do they keep the mammals from eating the plants and the raptors from eating the mammals?' And if you're a boy you're thinking of Sam Neill battling a velociraptor.) Walked through the cold and damp (and out-of-season) gardens until we came to the Mammal and Raptor Centre, where we got to see an albino weasel, miserable-looking meerkats, wallabies, mean-spirited emus, some crazy pheasant-looking birds and one silly duck. And we took some silly pictures:

Weeping Angels.

Albino weasel.

The genuine wallaby.

"Do not want to talk to you. Simples."

Pheasants.

"I am a crazy bird."

Me and a Harris hawk (I think).

Then it was time for hot chocolate and the raptor show, where a group of seven of us got to see three birds of prey doing some aerial displays. One highlight was a Harris hawk landing on the bench about two feet away and eying up the two-year-old boy standing with his parents like, "Hmm, bet I could eat this one." The other highlight was getting to hold two of the birds. Is it sad that, as a grown man, I get excited by having the opportunity to hold what is technically a chicken with a killer instinct? I don't care either way; it was sweet and I would go back again just for that. Firstly was the Harris hawk (I think, I don't remember which hawk in particular, but I think it was a Harris), followed by Snoopy, the barn owl (I remember Snoopy, because Charles Shultz was from St. Paul), both of whom were much lighter than I expected they would be. The little boy got to hold the owl too, which just about made his life; he had to be physically restrained from running out as soon as the raptor specialist (wrangler? captor?) asked if anyone would like to hold the birds. Eyes as big as dinner plates. Excited as Christmas.

Snoopy, the barn owl.

Jo and Snoopy.

Just like Harry Potter!

Mmm, chicken.

Happy Birthday

2010-09-20T23:58:00.000+01:00

Happy Birthday to Bumpa, my Grandpa Maurice, 87 years young today!

Sorry...

2010-09-16T00:22:00.000+01:00

This isn't the post promised. This is a filler post to keep you mildly updated/amused/annoyed until work stops trying to kill me and learns to play nice.

Work has been insanely busy as of late, and there have been more than a few days when I've arrived by just-gone eight and not left til close to six. Tonight was especially bad and didn't get out til ten of seven, having got in at twenty past eight, with a meeting from half-nine to half-twelve in between. Which, all told, are only numbers.

Two weeks ago, semi-fresh off the vacation back home, the office was down to half-staff, which sounds far too much like a Viagra advert to actually mean misplacing all female coworkers for ten days. Which is what it actually means. So, armed only with testosterone and sheer tenacity (and a LOT of tea) we three kings somehow managed to prepare for and carry out three separate exam boards, hold down the phones, answer emails and tried to make sure that all the last-minute postgrad applicants got applications and some sort of guidance.

But not undergrads; the undergrad courses have been filled up for months, like so much flotsam and jetsam in the great pipeline of knowledge, clogging it so the smart can't get out.

This week has consisted of checking, double-checking, sending-away-for-external-checking checking and triple-double-dog-dare-checking before releasing grades. Which is just before students return (or, in the case of the last-minute appliquees, start). So, yee haw, hold onto yer hats kiddies. I am most definitely not going to be staying til seven tomorrow night: I have a very important date tomorrow night. A date with beer.

This week is also "staff development week", which is pretty much synonymous with preaching to the choir, business-speak and self-glorification, but with tai chi, head massages and dubious food.

So yes, this isn't the post I wanted nor intended to write. That post, the promised post, the mythological post of homewardsness and photography, that post'll have to wait a bit longer. I'm sorry, family and friends, for being crap at this game; I hope to get to it soon.

Anyway, that's all the news from Lake Woebegon. On a completely unrelated note, here's one of Leeds' own sons playing some nice pickin' gee-tar.

Don't work too hard,

--TA-->

Serious Sam Barrett - Lay A White Rose from James Rhodes on Vimeo.

And Back.

2010-08-22T23:51:00.000+01:00

We've returned from the US. After a beautifully hot and sunny two weeks, Jo and I made it back to our flat in the UK last Wednesday. Still not sure which timezone it is, but when I figure it out I'll post some fun stories and pictures.

In the mean time, here are a couple of pictures of what I did during my summer vacation.


Me, Iain and Francis, at Iain and Minori's first anniversary ceilidh in Aberdeen, Scotland; 31 July 2010.


Matt and Dan getting stuck in at the Peterson Extended Family Barbecue; 15 August 2010.

Whoa! WHOA!

2010-07-28T12:27:00.002+01:00

This just in! Web-comic giants Axe Cop and Dr. McNinja are teaming up for a two-week story! This might just be the greatest thing to happen to the internet since Al Gore.

For those of you not playing along at home, Axe Cop is a web-comic written by a six-year-old and then
illustrated by his 29-year-old brother. Dr. McNinja is a web-comic about a doctor who is also a ninja (and also Irish).

They're both silliness incarnate and don't make a whole lot of sense most of the time, but I think they're great (Dr. McNinja especially). Come to think of it, you probably won't like them. Never mind.

Suspend your disbelief; the saga begins here.

Hmm

2010-07-26T16:30:00.001+01:00

So I've got four days left at work before we head up to Aberdeen to see Iain and Minori, then off south to fly back to the US for my first taste of a midwestern summer in three years!

I've been waiting for this trip for so long it seems strange that it's almost here. It's like expectations and longing and hope have all been piled up into a mountain, and now it's time to climb the mountain. It's kind of overwhelming, and it hasn't even started.

Between now and then:

Drinks tonight for Rich's leaving do.
Work my last shift at Sandbar tomorrow.
Get my hair cut.
Something something something (probably fairly important).
Meet up with Francis and Ayaka on Friday night.
Pack.

That is all.
-TA->

(This is a hopeful return to non-epic blogging - the only reason the last post was so bloody long was I'd intended to write a funny, brief Fourth of July post and then things just kept happening that I wanted to post about. What's that? Write separate posts for each thing I've done? Well I would, but I still haven't posted about Seville yet, and that happened two years ago. Hopefully, if I ever have to write another huge blog post I'll put it into rhyme and make it an actual epic poem. Also, why does rhythm not contain any vowels? That's just weird.)

From one thing t'other

2010-07-22T14:23:00.008+01:00

Salutations
Happy belated Fourth of July! This post was supposed to be finished on the Fourth and wasn't, obviously.

Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas! There, I'm covered.

But yes, the Fourth. As I pointed out to a friend during the England-USA match in the opening round of the World Cup (in June), "The American national anthem was written by an American prisoner of war on the deck of a British ship during the bombardment of Fort McHenry. And then you lost." This has absolutely nothing to do with how I feel about being in England, on the Fourth of July or otherwise, but I thought it was funny at the time. If America lost, he told me, I'd have to stand up on a chair and sing the national anthem in front of everybody. If America won, I told him, he'd have to join me. England and America then conveniently drew 1-1, saving us both from any undue embarrassment.

** Sidenote: Did you know that My Country, 'Tis of Thee in America is God Save the Queen in England? It's true! America threw off its royal shackles and turned the British national anthem into a patriotic song all it's own, just like Vanilla Ice did to Queen and Bowie 160 years later. **

So. Yes. From one thing t'other.

Lahndan-town

Found cheap (£18) tickets to London for the weekend four weeks ago now, and so I went. Just like that. Picked up the tickets at 4pm on Friday, worked till 2am at Work II, went to bed at 4am, got up at 6am, got on the train at 8am, got off at 10:30am and spent two days in The Big Smoke. It's about as spontaneous a trip to London as you can do without rolling up on the day and shelling out £200 for the privilege of not flying.

Spent the early part of Saturday getting lost and wandering around in northern London, before wandering around the graves of Karl Marx, Douglas Adams and Mary Anne Evans (aka George Eliot) who are all buried within 150 meters of each other at Highgate Cemetery. Actually walked entirely around Highgate Cemetery East before locating the entrance, which was right next to where I'd started looking. (No connection to T.S. Eliot.) I'd never heard of Highgate Cemetery until a coworker mentioned that Karl Marx was buried there, and not embalmed and lying next to Lenin in a Moscow nightclub. Highgate East is actually a fantastic place; a quiet wedge of green stuck between a suburb, a park and a block of council flats, surrounded on all sides by a Victorian fence (except the gate that I missed), and mostly overgrown. The view through the fence (as I had for almost an entire circuit) is like a Victorian folly: row upon row of crosses, headstones, vaults and plaques poke through bushes, vines and trees, with the occasional cleared path between.

North London is quite nice in the sunshine.

Spent the afternoon wandering around some more, meeting interesting people from around the world, and poking in used and antiquarian bookshops. Met a guy from Norway in a pub when I popped in for a drink and map-check (and a place to sit down) and discussed London pubs, travels and data-mapping; then met two American university teachers ("tutors" or "professors" depending on you cultural orientation) from Massachusetts in a wine and spirits shop where we discussed Japanese whiskey and Dickensian London; then met another American in a pub in Notting Hill where we both ambivalently cheered for our team. I heard lots of Americans in London - Notting Hill especially - it's not even exciting to ask where people are from, so far from home, and other than the university academics everyone has that boring, generic, jaded-Hollywood tone of voice so you'll know that yeah, like, they're expats, but they don't really care or whatever. The academics were excited about Dickens and whiskey.

Bought two books in two shops in Cecil Court, off Charing Cross Road: "Graham Greene and the Politics of Popular Fiction and Film" by Brian Lindsay Thomson because it had a blurb on the back by Prof. Michael Brennan, my former tutor at Leeds; and a first-edition "Our Man in Havana" by Graham Greene because...well, just because. I didn't buy a first edition "The Man Who Was Thursday" by GKC, mainly because it cost £1700. Also didn't buy a first English edition of "Ulysses" - see the bottom picture in the last post...yep, that one - for £450. I need to find a better-paying job.

The downside to an impromptu trip is that planning anything effectively conflicts directly with napping on the train. That said, I managed to get stuck in a Saturday afternoon Oxford Street shop-a-thon and miss Foyles and Tin Pan Alley by mere steps. Still, this justifies a further, better-thought-out trip for future. End of September, I'll be back.

Met up with Lisa and Gabes later that night and crashed out at their place in South London. Up early-ish on Sunday to let them pack (they moved the following weekend? Two weekends? Can't remember now.) Wandered around town a bit; went back to Notting Hill to check out some other shops and to meet up with Claire, a friend from Japan, to watch the England-Germany match. Quite fun to watch the match in a lively atmosphere (apart from the disallowed England goal), and a large contingent of Germany fans was there to cheer their team to victory. Claire's Scottish, so she wasn't too bothered either way. Watched it in The Prince Bonaparte, a stylish gastropub named after Napoleon I's nephew, 'Prince' Louis Lucien Napoleon, who lived in the Notting Hill area in the 1850s, and made his mark on history by studying the Basque language. (More about Notting Hill history here.) I can't possibly imagine that GKC didn't use him as part inspiration for "The Napoleon of Notting Hill". Got so excited I forgot to take a picture of it.

The Dales Way

Jo and I spent the day in Malham in the Yorkshire Dales three Saturdays ago (3rd of July?), walking up hills and down hills, over hills and...over more hills. It was sunny and windy and nice, and sunburn was mostly avoided. Malham, as I might have said elsewhere, is a quaint little town located on the outskirts of a glacial cliff, or "cove". Said cove is about 200 feet high (or 70 meters, which don't always correspond) and the pamphlet we got said it would have rivalled Niagara in terms of beauty. Having been to Niagara Falls made walking across the top of a defunct 200-foot waterfall a strange, wonderful experience. The stone face, no longer pouring water, is now home to an eyrie of peregrine falcons (Eyrie = falcon plural. Didn't know that before.), which is pretty sweet. I've had an affinity for peregrine falcons ever since I read Jean Craighead George's 'My Side of the Mountain' about 23 years ago; though the desire to live in a hollowed-out tree has dimmed somewhat. We managed to see a few falcons from the base of the cove, but the best views were from the top: watching a falcon catch the up-draft off the cove to dive towards crows and pigeons. Got all GM Hopkins and realised I'd forgotten most of the words. Still, ultimately cool.

Also tried to take pictures of a falcon in its "scrape", or cliff-edge apartment, but my inability to locate the digital zoom on my camera meant the best shot I could get was of a grey, bird-shaped spot in the middle of a grey, rock-shaped ledge - i.e. a ledged falcon. *rimshot*

Farther down the trail we came across the remains of an Iron Age settlement consisting of no more than raised circles and lines indicating round houses and walls. Between 1800 and 2300 years ago this was a small village of probably shepherds and farmers who were born, lived, worked and died on the rolling slopes below the limestone cliffs of North Yorkshire, between a waterfall and a canyon, which is now a sheep field and a path to a campsite. Kind of like the Cake song, it puts your own existence into perspective: Home may be where the heart is, but it's also where the sheep poop will be one day. (I never say anything you'd want to embroider on a cushion.)

From existential crisis to canyon (or from hard place to rock), we followed the path down into the Goredale valley, across a campsite and up into Goredale Scar (or "canyon" in English). Goredale Scar doesn't look very impressive from the distance, more like a rocky ravine with a peaceful meadow and a babbling brook at the bottom (glen & beck?), but then you go around a corner and you are there: the walls loom out and over, 130 feet high, vertical or inverted enough to keep rock climbers happy. The Victorians went fairly nuts over the Scar; there are paintings of Gordale Scar by celebrated landscape painter James Ward hanging in the Tate Collection in London, and according to the BBC Press Office, "poet Thomas Gray said he could only bear to stay here for a quarter of an hour, but 'not without shuddering'. The landscape provoked an assault on the senses, an adrenalin rush so strong that it was considered truly sublime." The threat of big rocks falling on your head will do that I suppose.

Walked as far back as we could go without going under a waterfall or scrambling up rocks bigger than a van covered in tufa, a slippery soft stone formed by dissolved limestone in the water, and decided that trying to scramble up at least two more falls over slippery rocks to get to another trail that we didn't have a map for might not be the best idea. Met a guy coming down said way, and helped him lower his rucksack down over an eight-foot ledge by the waterfall so he could climb down unhindered. Asked him if his heavy pack had rock climbing equipment in it; replied "Nope, two litres of water and a six-pack o' beers." The Boy Scouts have really changed since my day.

Wandered back down out of the Scar, and headed next to Janet's Foss, which Anglo-Something for "Old Sheepwash" (and "sheepwash" being a waterfall you drive sheep under to get them clean. Strange, but I can see it working. I'll never look at a waterfall the same way again). Janet, the namesake, was Queen of the Fairies and supposedly lived a magical cave hidden behind the waterfall. I found a cave nearby, but it smelled like cigarettes and beer. I think it was probably a different cave, unless Janet was also the Queen of Bored Teenagers on Camping Trips with their Parents.

Still, Janet's Foss is a beautiful gem of a location, managed to come across it just as the sun was sending beams through the trees and directly onto the pond, which gave the place a magical feel suiting its legendary history.

Wandered downstream from the Foss through a beautiful glen that reminded me of Shove Park in Syracuse when I was young, and through a meadow along a stream. Got back into Malham in the late afternoon, had a quick pint in the local pub (Jo didn't as she was driving), enjoyed the beautiful outdoors, and headed back.

As American as Apple Pie and Explosives
I don't think we did anything exciting on the Fourth of July. "Pulled through" as Clemens put it.

And then the next

Two Fridays ago (9th of July) saw the wedding of Jo's friend Claire who married her "Mr. Darcy", a tall Aussie who answers to to the name Russell, at the fantastic Wood Hall Hotel near Wetherby.

A fine time was had by all: champagne and canapes in the garden overlooking a beautiful valley, the bride and groom giving heartfelt speeches before a fantastic meal, and music, dancing and conversations until silly o'clock in the morning. Met a German guy who works for the BBC World Service and discussed the changing means of information dissemination, including *gasp* blogs. Didn't mention this particular venture, as I wouldn't necessarily call Thom Abroad a " reputable (or even regular) source of current events and news" and I doubt anything on here would necessarily be banned in Tehran or Pyongyang. Could Thom Abroad someday become Thom Deep Undercover From An Undisclosed Location? No, probably not. Still, contacts were made.

The next morning was a weird blend of Romantic and Romero: sat down for a terrific (running out of adjectives here) buffet breakfast and some of the -ahem- more enthusiastic participants of the night before shuffled in like reanimated corpses, moaning softly about braaains. They may have been saying beeeans, I'm not sure.

Next Level: America
For those of you not paying attention, in the next two weeks we're headed up to Aberdeen for a full-scale Scotanese hootenanny with Iain and Minori, and then back to Middle Coast USA for a little r&r, some weddingdom fun, and a whole heap of birthdayliciousness. If you'd like to tag along, let me know. We will hopefully be doing very little productive, except trying to wrangle me a new drivers license and possibly telling my bank where to stick their surcharges.

Hope your summer's going well, and you're not developing any future melanomas of the epidermis. Enjoy your dog days.

-TA->

The Feast of Saint Jam Juice

2010-06-16T09:28:00.001+01:00

Happy Bloomsday!

~from The Writer's Almanac:

"Today is Bloomsday, and James Joyce fans all over the world are celebrating. It commemorates the day on which the events of his novel Ulysses take place. Joyce chose June 16th, 1904, for the setting because it was the day of his first date with Nora Barnacle, his future wife. They'd met each other randomly on Nassau Street in Dublin on June 10th, chatted a bit, and agreed to meet up later. But she stood him up on their first would-be date of June 14th. On the 15th, the 22-year-old James Joyce sent a note to her that read:

"I may be blind. I looked for a long time at a head of reddish-brown hair and decided it was not yours. I went home quite dejected. I would like to make an appointment but it might not suit you. I hope you will be kind enough to make one with me — if you have not forgotten me!"

They successfully met up the following day, June 16th. They went for an evening stroll around the south bank of the Liffey River in Dublin. And Joyce later chose this day for the setting of Ulysses.
Even after the novel's success, Joyce himself did not call June 16th "Bloomsday." Nor did he really celebrate the day, though publisher Sylvia Beach organized a celebratory Parisian luncheon on June 16th, 1929 — years before the book was legal in the English-speaking world.

The first modern celebration of Bloomsday was in 1954, the 50th anniversary of the fictional events in Joyce's book, and about three decades after Joyce published his novel in 1922. Irish writers Flann O'Brien and Patrick Kavanagh got together with critic John Ryan and a dentist cousin of James Joyce, named Tom Joyce, to make a daylong pilgrimage around Dublin. They were to have stops at the Martello Tower (the opening scene of the novel), Davy Byrne's Pub (where Bloom eats a gorgonzola cheese sandwich) and 7 Eccles Street (where Bloom and his wife, Molly, lived). They role-played, acted out the dialogue, and rode in horse-drawn carriages like those described in the scene of Paddy Dignam's funeral. They were supposed to end up in the red-light section of Dublin, where the 15th chapter of Ulysses "Nighttown" is set, but the literary pilgrims got a bit drunk and distracted at a pub about halfway through the route and lost their ambition to finish it.

There are big Bloomsday celebrations today in Paris, Toronto, Seattle, Sydney, San Francisco, Buenos Aires, Oslo, Trieste, Minneapolis, Melbourne, Genoa, and Pittsburgh. In Philadelphia, there are readings — seven hours' worth — on the steps of the Rosenbach Library, where the original manuscript of James Joyce's Ulysses resides.

This past weekend in New York, there was the inaugural Bloomsday in Brooklyn event, a pub crawl with actors reading passages from Ulysses at six different pubs in Park Slope. Today in New York, there's Bloomsday on Broadway, staged readings of Ulysses at Symphony Space. The celebration in Dublin is, of course, the biggest in the world. This year, the festivities have been going on for four days already — since last Saturday. Dubliners sometimes call the whole thing 'The Feast of Saint Jam Juice.'"

Soccer = Football, Football = Rugby

2010-06-15T12:36:00.003+01:00

For those playing along at home. (And baseball is rounders, but all grown up and not for girls. At least not in the MLB.)

Other fun stuff; guess what the New York Post, that bastion of journalistic integrity (and public American pawn of Rupert "Plunda from Down Unda" Murdoch), said about the 1-1 US v England World Cup draw?

Let's play "Spot the Error" here, shall we boys and girls?

And in case you missed the 0.7 seconds which will define the rest of Robert Green's life, here it is depicted in Lego form.

In other news, a small group of men from America are equally good at kicking a ball around as a small group of men from England; doctors have recently discovered that several thousand South Africans have been infected with a severe nasal ailment called "vuvuzela"; and in Japan, while their football/soccer/baby-tap-tap team was busy defeating Cameroon 1-0, 29 sumo wrestlers have admitted gambling...on baseball.

May Bank Holiday Weekend/Jo's Birthday

2010-06-15T00:22:00.001+01:00

(This post is getting later and later; it was initially supposed to be up last Tuesday, but to keep it from becoming May Bank Holiday/Jo's Birthday/Christmas, I'm going to post it now. It may be edited at some future date, but I wouldn't hold your breath.)

Where the last post was about the future, this one will be about the past (getting to be really the past!). The past two weekends in fact. Spent two weekends ago in Cambridgeshire with the Lady and family; one afternoon in Cambridge itself, one day walking around St. Ives (Cambs), and one day in St. Neots. Spent last weekend doing Jo's 'Cocktails, Canapes, and Karaoke' birthday party and relaxing.

Cambridge:

Headed down to St. Neots on Saturday afternoon two weekends ago, and spent the evening visiting with Jo's parents and eating the choco-mocha-caramel cake Jo made in honour of her mother's birthday. It was tasty.

Sunday afternoon in Cambridge was quite nice; sunny and clear, though the wind made it a bit cool, but very good for looking at the outside of colleges. (The insides were either closed for exams, full of fat tourists, or exorbitantly expensive.) Did not go punting on the Cam as, a). it is overpriced, and b). I'm not Victorian. Slight SNAFU on the book-shopping front as it was a Sunday afternoon during a bank holiday, so no popping into dark, cramped back-alley antiquarian bookshops in search of obscure first editions for me. Did manage to find an open Oxfam bookshop and bought Dudley Barker's biography of Chesterton, which isn't a brilliant work but has some great pictures. Met up with Kate and boyfriend Dave just outside Kings College, both of whom (Kate and Dave, not Kings) we haven't seen since we moved out of Kate and Jenny's house last September. Dave flies helicopters for the military (the kind with lots of guns and missiles and are quite aesthetically and conceptually pleasing) and had his training just outside Phoenix, Arizona, so we spent some time talking about the desert and Arizona and fun times there. He's also just returned from a tour in Afghanistan, which is also predominantly desert, but which I'm not that familiar with. (Afghanistan, as far as I can determine, is part of Asia, which makes getting involved in a land war there one of the classic blunders. History shows that this is a fairly accurate assumption.)

(Funny side story: It's February 1953 and Francis Crick and James Watson, two molecular biologists researching at Cambridge, have just discovered the internal structure of DNA, the double helix, how DNA holds its genetic material. So what do they do? Proclaim this monumental scientific breakthrough to the scientific community? Immediately publish their findings before anyone else can steal it and pass it off as their own? No. They go to the pub.

Reputedly Crick walked into the Eagle pub in Cambridge and announced, 'We have found the secret of Life!' (Oh, and the physical structure of DNA, too.)

Only in England.)

Monday we wandered around Houghton and St. Ives (Cambridgeshire, as opposed to St. Ives, Cornwall, which is about 350 miles away*), which despite weather forecasts to the contrary, was quite a nice little jaunt. Got to see some quaint English cottages with the thick straw roofs and tiny windows, which are more like the kind I imagine C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien sitting in front of, smoking pipes. These cottages are a lot different than the kind you find in the North, mainly because they are not made of big blocks of blackened stone. (Which isn't to say Northern buildings lack a specific charm; I really can't imagine Brontë country without big stone houses, and the old Yorkshire pubs wouldn't be the same if they didn't weigh about 200 million tons.) The day started out fairly grey and windy, but cleared up as we walked through trails that were alternatingly forest, canal, cemetery, village streets, alleyways and fields. I even got a little pink on my melanin-deficient arms! Got into a fowl mood (groans) by spotting some duck-chickens (?), proper ducks, geese, coots, a peahen, and even some baby swans in the canal. and had some ice cream in St. Ives. Mmm...ice cream... Went out for dinner at Wyboston Lakes, a convention centre and hotel in St. Neots that Jo's brother Rob used to help manage, to celebrate Jo's mum's birthday. Wish there could be more days like this.

Tuesday consisted of diagnosing the engine noise Jo's car was making as "time for a new engine" (which has been done apparently), having a chat with the cat (which is not fat, in a hat or on a mat), packing up Jo's mum's car, and driving back to Leeds in quite possibly the worst weather ever.
[I take that back, the freak absolutely-zero-visibility downpour during the Cornerstone 2K roadtrip was the worst weather ever.]

Either I have one leg shorter than the other or I was standing in a hole.

Canal boat and cottage.

Houghton Mill.

The Three Horseshoes Inn

Jo's Birthday
Jo's birthday saw the flat fill up with probably the most people we've had in it so far, and that number was...nine? [checks photos, and confirms number] The theme was Canapes, Cocktails and Karaoke, and it did pretty much what it said on the box: Jo spent most of Friday cooking and cleaning in domestic-goddess fashion, and somehow put together enough delicious nibbles to feed [checks again] nine people with some extra to snack on later. I got out of the cooking and cleaning by going to work at both jobs on Friday, but got to show off my acquired bar-tending skills by mixing drinks for the party. Served up some classics, found a few new drinks online, and even tried to make up a new drink, which turned out to not be very good. "Know thyself" a wise man once said, and I can now justifiably declare that I am not a mixologist.

This was fairly quickly followed by a trip into town for a little karaoke, which is Japanese for "musical crime", at OK Karaoke. OK Karaoke is a very scary club located in a very nice old building not far from where I work. It was filled with all manner of stag and hen (bachelor and bachelorette) parties, none of which exhibited much by way of either class or sobriety; but Jo had booked a private booth for us, so we bid sweet adieu to the sozzled celebrants and found our box. Proceeded to march our way through a crazy variety of songs, though I think we missed 'A Whole New World', one of our classic Japan karaokethon tracks.

Emerged sweaty and victorious a couple hours later, and went to Fab Cafe, a sticky-floored pop-cultured student dive. Hung out for a while, feeling old, and got home for more canapes around 2am. (2am used to be a "respectable" getting-home time; now it just feels like too much work. I'm not as young as I was once, though I'm guessing that's par for the course; as Sam Phillips once said, "Nostalgia isn't what it used to be". Currently making plans to hit the big 3-0 by being in America. Yikes.)

In completely different news, World Cup fever has taken hold; meaning annoying England flags have cropped up on every available surface like a pox on both their houses (except in Scotland, where USA, Slovenia and Algeria** flags have cropped up like predestined Calvinists). Cars, houses, buses, businesses, t-shirts, socks, even underwear. The most annoying thing about this jingoistic phenomenon is the way 'England' is generally printed across the flag itself. This strikes me as fairly redundant: if you're going to sell flags in a specific country, one would assume that residents of said country would be able to identify their own flag without too many hints; "Thank you for confirming that this is, in fact, my national flag and not an extra-wide Red Cross banner." If anything, you'd think that England fans would want to have 'England' written in Slovenian or Algerian to let their opponents know who was winning. Is the English version for my benefit? I already know what the English flag looks like. I can identify the American flag too; it's the one with stars, stripes and "WE'RE #1!" across the middle. (How many flags can you identify?)

*352 miles by car, according to Google Maps. Also according to Google Maps, if you walk from St. Ives to St. Ives, it's 1091 miles, and you need to go via France - twice - and Ireland, with the disclaimer that: "This route may be missing sidewalks or pedestrian paths." Indeed.

View Larger Map

** Group C of the World Cup consists of England, USA, Slovenia and Algeria. The Scottish, being contrary by nature, have decided to support everyone BUT England, in the hopes that they'll be able to laugh at their southern neighbors' defeat sooner rather than later. In an inexplicable twist of fate, I've somehow managed to secure the USA ticket in the office World Cup pool. I guess that decides who I cheer for on Saturday!

UPDATE 1: In case you've been hiding underneath a rock, England and the US tied 1-1 in the first round of their Group in the World Cup. This has worked out quite well for me, as no one has any desire to kill me because my team beat theirs, and I can now cheer for America without worrying about being killed (except by Slovenians and Algerians).

I want to be in America

2010-06-03T14:04:00.005+01:00

'Cause everything's free in America, for a small fee in America.

Booked tickets on Monday for the trip back to the US! All Minnsotans: keep August 5th-15th clear for some fun and frolicks. Now taking reservations for meet-ups.

Tentative plans include:

Enjoying the sunshine (this is not tentative. this is mandatory)
Seeing the fam
Seeing the friends
Trip to WI
Lindsey & Brian's wedding (if they'll let us)
Take in a Twins game
Trip to the MOA (Home of the Wacky Consumer)
BARBECUE (again, mandatory)
A little DMV-torture to renew my license
A little Sextons action (? Jake?)
The Har-Mar Duo: Perkins and Old Chicago
Caribou/Dunn Bros/Anodyne trifecta of doom
Ship books
Twine Ball optional

And many more.

Let me know if I forgot anything glaring (or non-glaring even).

Preparing for a glorious return to the Motherland,

-TA->

No News Is Good?

2010-05-13T10:35:00.012+01:00

All's quiet on the Eastern Front.

Except, of course, for the fact that the past week has included a General Election, the stepping down of an unpopular Prime Minister, the courting of the biggest small political party by the smallest big political party in the UK, a "coalition government" set up consisting of the biggest small party and the biggest big party (thus creating the Medium Unpopular medium party), the instatement of an unpopular Prime Minister, and a feeling of general embuggerance.

On a lighter note, my baby sister is in Europe. By "baby" I mean "younger than me", and not an actual baby. Actual babies should not be allowed to travel to Europe unsupervised.

No, my baby younger sister is currently of tramping around Italy on a tour of all the famous sights in a very Romantic manner. Hopefully she will takes loads of pictures, love the culture, eat loads of food, want to return, and not get stuck due to volcanic eruptions. (I hope she know that if she gets stuck, she will have to get a train out to England and hang out here for a while. It will be horrible.) Much jealousy ensues as I am currently living under skies of such a deep, deep shade of blue that one would be tempted to call it "grey". I still hold that the UK would be great if they could fix the damn weather. It's enough the make a Scotsman turn Calvinist.

Currently reading Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner by James Hogg.

On a completely unrelated note, did anyone see this? A Libyan airliner en route from South Africa crashed in Tripoli, with only one survivor. Sounds like M. Night Shyamalan's Unbreakable:

'I watched the aftermath of the plane crash. I watched the carnage of the hotel fire. I watched the news, waiting to hear a very specific combination of words... Then one day I saw a news story about a train accident and I heard them. "There is a sole survivor and he is miraculously unharmed."'

Also in the news/cinema: in response to the Deepwater Horizon oil rig explosion and resulting oil spill three weeks ago, which has released four million gallons of oil to date, the US government has come up with an alternative, more British, punishment for BP execs:

Crude: Gemma Arterton gets oiled up in Quantum of Solace, the 22nd James Bond film.

Currently listening to a lot of Fountains of Wayne, courtesy of A Plague of Angels, which is pretty awesome and begs the question: is FoW power-pop or college rock? Suggestions gladly accepted.

Life spins along much like always: I wake up, go to work, come home, sometimes go to work 2, sometimes watch a movie, sometimes read a book, sometimes not. It could be much, much worse really, and step 1 is always greatly appreciated, if not always greeted with enthusiasm.

Still looking at flights back to America for sometime in August; more new news when news gets knowed. Looking forward to it so much it itches. In the mean time, we have tickets to Aberdeen booked for Iain and Minori's wedding/anniversary/birthday shindig. Even travelling with Francis and Ayaka! Very excited to get the old gang back together, at least in part. (Rob, Darius, Mitchell, Alwyn, Devin, and friends: you can all come crash at mine if you'd like - I'm sure Jo won't mind.)

But anyway...

Stay classy Loidis,

-TA->

Electile Dysfunction

2010-05-07T09:57:00.005+01:00

Well ladies and germs, this is it: the UK General Election 2010.

Voters turned out yesterday in force to cast their ballots for who will fail to run the country effectively, and possibly into the ground economically and socially. It's a bit like watching an exciting horse race, all the while knowing that the loser will be dog food and the winner will be glue.

This post will be patchy, updated as I can, as I read more the BBC, and from various different sources.

Hung Up On You:

The UK has a 'First Past The Post' voting system, meaning the first politcal party to win 326 seats is declared the winner. One problem with this is that a party can technically get more votes nation-wide (i.e. the popular vote) and still end up losing seats in parliament. For example, at time of writing Labour has received 8,236,191 votes (29.2%) and holds 248 seats, while the Liberal democrats have received 6,435,621 votes and (22.9%) hold 51 seats (The Tories, meanwhile, have received 10,168,583 votes (36.1%) and hold 291 seats).

'Labour's Lord Mandelson says the public has voted to "turn the page in the political book" but has not decided "which chapter to open".'

On Immigration:
The frightening thing is, although the Lib Dems won 20,653 of ~43,500 votes in my area, nationalist parties (BNP, UKIP) won 1366. However, if the BNP (British Nationalist Party) had won, the price of beer would have gone down, smoking in bars would have been re-legalised, and I would have probably been offered "a cash incentive" to return to the US.

True story: I was at my part-time bar job last week, and the manager of the pub across the road comes in, orders a beer, and starts complaining about how immigrants are ruining the country. He goes on about how all these immigrants are stealing British jobs, and that they should all be shoved on a boat and shipped back to where they came from. "So Thom," say he, "How are things with you?" "Well," I reply, "I'm pretty tired; it's really hard stealing TWO jobs from decent, hard-working British people. Say, are you planning to go back to South Africa anytime soon? I hear there's a boat going."

Long shots:
Poor Mad Cap'n Tom, the most honest candidate in the Cities of London & Westminster (if also the least likely to win). Find out more about the Pirate Party candidate here. (Note: I think the BBC made an oopsie: I find it hard to believe that Mad Capn' Tom would be running against the Pirate Party UK in L&W. Update: Nope. He is. Two separate piratical parties in one constituency; who knew? )

Electile Dysfunction playlist:
"Wake Up" byRage Against The Machine
"Anarchy In The UK" by The Sex Pistols
"The Revolution Starts...Now" by Steve Earle
"Common People" by Pulp (or the William Shatner version)
"Barricade" by Stars
"People Ain't No Good" by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds
"Democracy" by Leonard Cohen
"A Change Is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke
"Pamphleteer" by The Weakerthans
"La Primavera" by Manu Chao
"Army" by Ben Folds Five
"Bullet the Blue Sky" by U2
"It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" by R.E.M.
"Taught To Look Away" by Matt Pond PA & Neko Case
"The Battle Of Who Could Care Less" by Ben Folds Five
"Mouth Like A Magazine" by Showbread
"Know Your Enemy" by Rage Against The Machine

On Aliens

2010-04-25T18:57:00.005+01:00

Funny news and weather: it's raining, aliens, hallelujah, in three separate sections. Amen.

1. It's raining. Well, it was raining; now it's just cloudy. Yesterday, however, was NOT rainy and was actually quite nice (apparently this volcano has blown over, or at least not up), so Jo and I decided to go for a little walk around the neighborhood. Nine miles later, we'd walked to lower Horsforth, to the Abbey Inn, and down along the canal all the way into town. It's 127 miles from Leeds to Liverpool along the canal, and I've now done at least four of them. Met some students paddling up the canal in inflatable boats; Jo says students in Cambridge go punting on the Cam, and students in Leeds try sailing to Liverpool. We all gotta have goals, I say. Someday I might just walk all the way to Liverpool. Not all in one go, mind, but that's why God made canal-side pubs. (Now accepting applications for a Leeds-to-Liverpool Non-Professional Summertime Wander '10/'11/'12/whenever)

Anyway.

2. Aliens. Two stories here really:

2a. The first being Oh Em Gee, have you seen the new Dr. Who? Matt Smith has the dubious honour of being the 11th Doctor Who, taking over from the amazing David Tennant who transmogrified during the overly dramatic Christmas/New Year two-part special. The New Who has all the geeky strangeness of a university physics student on a sugar high in clothes borrowed from their tutor. But in space. With a time machine. And a new (green) sonic screwdriver. And an attractive redhead companion. And, and, oh so much and. Take a look:

2b. Stephen Hawking has warned that while it is "perfectly rational" to believe aliens exist, actually seeking them out might not be such a great idea. Far from the Spielbergian event we envision (or, at least, Spielberg envisioned), Hawking believes that we might not like our cosmic neighbors when they show up. Quoth the Hawking: "We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn't want to meet." Oh snap Earth, Hawking served you! He has no problem with the possibility of aliens, he just doesn't like the probability that they'll be as big of jerks as we are when they get here. In other words, "Mathematically speaking, aliens exist. And mathematically speaking, they could kick our asses." Now imagine it in Hawking computer-voice. Awesome.

3. Hallelujah. I lied; there are only two sections.

Good night, Gracie.

Cloudy, with a chance of meatballs

2010-04-15T13:51:00.014+01:00

Currently in the UK: it is cloudy and no one can fly because a volcano erupted under a glacier in Iceland.

Wait, what?

Yep, just as weird as it sounds. Apparently a volcano has erupted in Iceland about 1000km north of the UK. This is the second eruption in less than a month, and the second under Eyjafjallajökull, which means “Eyjafjalla glacier” in Icelandic. (“Eyjafjallajökull” is high in the running for my word of the year. No, I cannot pronounce it.) The subsequent ash cloud has hit the upper atmosphere, disbursing it in an ever-widening swath over Europe at the same altitude as commercial air traffic. So no flights. Why? Well, according to this article,

“In 1982, British Airways and Singapore Airways jumbo jets lost all their engines when they flew into an ash cloud over Indonesia. Reports said that the ash sandblasted the windscreen and clogged the engines, which only restarted when enough of the molten ash solidified and broke off.”

And according to this article, flying through volcanic ash is "a bit like negotiating one's way up a badger's arse". I'll leave that one up to your imagination.

Meanwhile, we in cloudy Leeds are getting prepared to spend a night under the ash, as reports that the ash cloud will spread to cover the whole of the UK by nightfall. Frankly, I’m kind of excited about this; it’s like an alien invasion or John Wyndham novel or something. No one’s being advised to stay indoors and keep their radios tuned, or anything Cold War-era film drama-like; but, I think we’re all feeling this strange desire to break these non-stated rules and head outside and watch the sky. It’s gaining all the heady carnival atmosphere of a bad ’50s horror film: “It burst from below the ice to tear aeroplanes from the sky! It was The Cloud From The Deep!” Bah bah BAH! The BBC is already dutifully churning out diagrams and predictions and animations and brightly-coloured satellite photographs showing black and red wisps of ash and ice swirling in a pool of melted orange and lime sorbet with a map of northern Europe transposed over the top, keeping us well-informed of all the latest ash-developments, and providing a rich history of Icelandic volcanoes. Even a section on air passengers' rights - what to do if a volcano inconveniences you! (Surprisingly, neither "sacrifice a virgin to Vulcan, god of fire" or “go jump in it” made the list.)

And - hope of all hopes - THE VOLCANO IS STILL ERUPTING! By tomorrow we could have a new highest peak in Europe! Scotland could be covered in a blanket of ash! Iceland could be renamed Landland! Norway could be plunged into an ice age unlike anything seen for ten thousand years! Dennis Quaid could be struggling to New York City to save Jake Gyllenhaal!

Could this be what’s causing the cloudy weather today? Could be; or it could just be Leeds’ wonderful track record of crap weather. Either way, if you need me, I’ll outside looking up.

Addendum: no one can travel via airplane due to the Eyjafjallajökull volcano. Generally no one in the UK can fly, but this is due to gravity and an inadequate supply of feathers.

Addendum 2: Wahey! Eruption webcam!

Addendum 3: "Iceland volcano ash is 'no threat to human health'". Blast, there goes my hopes for mutant powers.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Unnecessary (but fun)

2010-04-01T16:46:00.003+01:00

What’s this? April Fools’ Day? But of course.

And, seeing as it is the first of April, it’s that magical day when the Google powers-that-be (the human ones, not the sentient robotic ones) play little jokes on the web-browsing masses, like magical little garden gnomes spreading cheer. This year is no exception, with subtle jokes cropping up on various Google apps.

Firstly, from the Official Google Blog, is the announcement that as of 1am PST, Google has changed it’s name to Topeka. This is apparently to honour Topeka, Kansas, which has recently changed it’s name to Google. Don’t believe me? Go Topeka Google yourself.

While you’re Topeka-ing Google, KS, take a look in the upper right-hand corner at the time it took to perform that search. Did it take 2.00 shakes of a lamb’s tail? 85.85 jiffies? 0.39 times the velocity of an unladen swallow? 1.21 gigawatts? Great Scott! That’s heavy, Doc.

Google Mail has apparently lost all vowels, which is just careless of it, really. I’d suggest questioning Vanna White (0.63 microweeks).

One interesting new feature, which may or may not be Fools’-related (I’ve only discovered it today, so I can’t say) is the 3-D mode on Google Maps (beta, 0.71e-15 epochs*). For fun, try finding your house, go into Street View, and click on the little Lego-looking man wearing 3-D glasses. Instantly, the internet-based view of your house is transformed into a 3-D internet-based view of your house! Wow!

Now if we could only harness this power and use it for good…

* 0.71e-15 is approximate slowdown of Pulsar B2111+46, and also a Googlewhack.

Oops.

2010-03-30T19:36:00.002+01:00

Last phone call of the day, 4:20pm.

Final year student, due to graduate in the summer: Um, hi. I was wondering if you could tell me when my ________ exam is please?
Me: Sure. It’s at …[checking]…9am this morning.
Student: … oh.

LEEDS MET. WE’RE GOOD AT SPORT.

On Employment

2010-03-25T12:43:00.014Z

(Wholly carp!* Two back-to-back posts on the same topic! This might be the beginning of some extended description of my life in general and more consistent updates! Yeah, right.)

As of 5pm this past Tuesday, I am a full-time, permanent, member of staff at Leeds Met! I even got an email sent out to my colleagues, some of whom responded with notes of congratulations, and some of whom responded to the other Tom in my office with notes of congratulations. West Yorkshire just isn't ready to accept the fact a dirty foreigner has stolen one of their jobs. But anyway.
Went into my interview on Monday on a friendly, first name basis with the four (four!) people on the interview team, which made the whole situation a bit more awkward and feel like a firing squad of friends. Nervous much, not helped by conflicting information regarding visas and job availability for those who don't have Indefinite Leave to Remain, but buoyed by my "stolen from the wardrobe of David Cameron" blue tie. [Note: being unable to vote Conservative or Labour (or Lib Dem, or even BNP if I fell on my head hard) means I can wear whatever colour tie I damn well please pretty much with impunity.] Apparently visas and/or ties were not an issue, as my boss pulled me aside on Tuesday afternoon and told me that, if I wanted it, the job was mine. Half considered thanking him and declining as a joke, but the year (plus) of job hunting helped me bite my tongue. I accepted, and was told that not all the other applicants had been informed of the decision yet, so not to tell anyone. Due to the fact that Jo works in the same office as one of the interviewers, I thought that perhaps telling her right away could possibly reflect badly on either me or my boss and that that might not be the best thing to do on the day of my job offer. Still feel bad about not dropping her a discreet text to let her know she could stop worrying. Minus many boyfriend points. Many head-rubs are required.

So. I now have a full-time, permanent job for the first time since leaving the Nova Group of Japan in January, 2007. It also means I can start saving for a trip to the U.S. this summer, but will have to arrange the trip around busy times at the University. It ALSO helps me in my quest for British citizenship, though it ties me to Leeds for the foreseeable future as well. Swings and roundabouts, ups and downs, strikes and gutters.

In other news, it is spring: I can now shower, shave and dress without necessarily having to turn on the light (except when there's heavy clouds, so every few days), and on my lunch break I can go out and watch the pétanque (French bowls) players in the City Centre. It's also means the wonderfully paired moor-walking and pub-stopping; one of my favourite British pastimes (along with shamelessly adding unnecessary letters to words: 'u' is for 'ubiquitous'). It means longer days, more sunshine (hopefully) and the promise of a long, hot summer. As long as the flat stays as cool in the summer as it was cold in the winter, we should be golden. And we still have a spare bedroom, so anyone wanting to come explore northern England should be in touch.
There is a post on Dublin coming (we went to Dublin, did I mention that?); I just need to match dates and photos and events into some semblance of order. Work at the bar tonight and tomorrow night, which will hopefully be some of the last few, so if you're in Leeds you should head out to Horsforth for a tipple.

The Dude Abides,
--TA-->

PS - If you've got some free time (or even if you don't), go here to check out Maloney-san's article about the home of Basshō and the Ninjas. They might not be an actual band, but I would recommend it if you're:
a). in Japan,
b). thinking of being in Japan,
c). a fan of haiku poetry, or
d). a fan of ninjas.

*it's funnier that way. 'Holey Carp' sounds like a bad case of sea lampreys.

On a chair, in a park, in the sun. Dublin.

In Brief

2010-02-13T14:38:00.002Z

There is something kind of cyclical, contained, and poetic about applying for the job you're currently doing while at work.

Fame is Fleeting, Obscurity is Forever

2010-02-06T21:54:00.004Z

Well, it's not fame, but we're on the web. Um. Obviously...on...the web...but...

Anyway, Jo and I can be spotted in a video of John Prescott, Labour MP for Hull East, stumping in Headingley. We feature quite highly in this video, walking past in the background between 00:15 and 00:25, on our way into town.

The Blog That Came In From The Cold

2010-01-29T12:33:00.002Z

Bah.

Updating a blog after any extended length of time is like trying to jump onto a ship that’s pulling away from a dock: both look better in films, and both get significantly harder the longer you leave it.

How do you adequately summarise the past 13-14 months (plus some) into the space of a blog? I don’t know if I can. Not at the moment. So anyway…

Happy New Year! It’s 2010! I’m still in England! I (kind of) have a job! All twenty digits work, and my nation hasn’t collapsed under oppressive government regimes, bin-men strikes, natural disasters, and/or ill-advised and legally-suspect foreign military operations, which all in all makes this year look pretty good from the outset. Things can only go downhill! Here I am again, a year older and a year wis – er, no, just older. Resolution for 2010 is to get farking motivated to do some more writing, which, after a few very good conversations, has been pointed out to me to be the only way to get any better at it and maybe even possibly making some money at it. Well, that’s the plan at any rate; fours weeks in, and this is the extent of it.

Writing in 2009 consisted of (roughly): 63 emails, 27 shopping lists, a half-dozen false starts to poems, about 140 Facebook status updates, three aborted blog entries, three haphazard notebook entries which might have led to some stories but led instead to the illuminating claim that I can tell a hawk from a handsaw when the wind is southerly and the weather's clear (ahem), and 73 job applications.

And as much as I would love to promise that this is The New Beginning, a taste of things to come, a “re-genesis” if you will, I’m still only temping and the possibility of needing to fill out yet more job applications and thus removing just about all reason to live is always at hand. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word got put off in order to do job applications.

The word word word, the word was deferred.

What happens to a Word deferred? Does it explode? Dunno. Hasn’t yet.

Words. Words. They’re all we have to go on.

Words, words, words. What do I read, my lord? Oh, loads.

But that’s a different post.

-TA-->

Currently listening to: ‘Stay Positive’ by The Hold Steady
Currently reading: ‘Dubliners’ by James Joyce

Iain, Bob, me, and the Tardis in Glasgow; 30 December, 2009.

On Work

2008-11-22T13:17:00.003Z

Sorry for not posting the promised post; stuff happened and work got in the way of my unemployment. Which I'm not complaining about.

So, yes, work. Two weeks ago I went into town to check back with some temping agencies I'd signed up with. No dice. I went to another agency and was talking with the staff when my phone started vibrating. I decided to show them what a classy individual I was and didn't answer it; but checked the message when I got out later: it was the first agency I'd been in, telling me they'd just got a call from an employer. Dice.

Anyway, long story short, I filled out forms till 6pm and was out the next morning at 6 for work at 8:30. Nice. Oops, that was the night of the election. An expat American was up till 4am watching the results come in...

Google Maps are great things; they can show, in minute detail, the apartment building you lived in in Japan, and can even take you on a virtual tour of Ancient Rome. They will even direct you within a mile of where your temp job starts, provided you know in which direction you'll need to walk. Which I didn't.

I got lost.

Eventually found my way to SpeedyHire, a construction/building safety training center, located conveniently a half-hour's walk from the train station, where you can learn how to set up a scaffold with minimal risk of it collapsing on you. They are rapidly expanding throughout the UK and Europe, where scaffolds fall like rain, and were in desperate need of an admin assistant. Enter me. I assisted with administration like nobody's business; completing certificates to send out to the trainees, filing past lesson rosters, making tea and coffee, and rearranging offices and training rooms.

On my way home after my second day I got a call from Borders Books, asking me if I still wanted to work for them up till Christmas. What? Work in an environment where I'm surrounded by books, and talk to people about books? So I said sure, if I could do evenings. They said "maybe", but I went in for the interview and got the job, and started my first shift on Sunday (which was after a full week at SpeedyHire, and a Saturday night at the pub). Worked Monday all day, but found out at the end of the day that the new receptionist was starting, so the decision from Corporate was I had to go. Low man on the totem pole. Which, to be honest, kind of bummed me out, because I'd really started to LIKE SpeedyHire - the staff are super, it's incredibly busy, there's something new to do every day. But walking out of there, I realised I had a new voice mail. A nightclub in town I'd talked to was wondering if I was still interested in working. Nice. Went for an interview the next day, and am waiting for that.

Worked Borders T/Th/F this week, which I was a bit nervous would be too much on top of working at SpeedyHire. Had an interview at a publishing company yesterday, which may have gone well, but I have the feeling it wasn't great. We'll see how it goes; they said they'd let me know by mid-week next week. I really, REALLY hope I get it.

And that's about it; two weeks ago I had one part-time job, for about 10 hours a week. I've had two jobs since then, one full-time temp and one part-time ongoing, and two interviews. So things are looking pretty good. My parents have finally got tickets to come out for a visit, so we're looking forward to that. Christmas is on the way, which means lots of food, family, and frosty nights. Should be good.

Next up: Graduation, music, British TV, travel, or Other.
Stay tuned.

Some Semblance of an Update

2008-10-26T20:14:00.004Z

And we’re back. Getting towards the end of October, and no post in two months. “Where’s Thom?” people are asking, “Does he still live here?” Well, yes, kind of, I’m still here. I must have started this post about six times, but there’s so much and so little to say that I never can decide what’s worth talking about, what’s not, and where to begin on the stuff I think is worth saying. Then, feeling overwhelmed and under-inspired, I quickly log onto Facebook to see if anyone else is doing anything interesting. Which they're not, usually.

So, without further ado or editorial forethought, I’ll begin.

As previously noted, I finished my dissertation. I am now noting that I’m 87% sure I passed. (yay!) I got preliminary results back on my dissertation some time ago, and I got a 72. Okay in the U.S. where passing is 70, but fantastic in the U.K. where passing is 50! (Note: I'm not saying it's easier to pass in the U.K., I'm saying that UK50 = US70. Much like the currency.) So instead of eking out a pass like I was hoping (well, not hoping for a "just-barely" pass, just hoping to pass!), I got a "pass with distinction". Which sounds like a fancy trip to the toilet.

But this is still just preliminary; the "official" results should be out any time. For those keeping score, that’s Denial State Procrastinators 3, Reality U. Naysayers nil.

Other news: I'm hunting for jobs, but am currently being stymied by global government and economy. The Credit Crunch has a name and it's Catch-22: Thom needs a visa to get a full-time job, and Thom needs a full-time job to pay for the visa. And rent. And heating. And student loans. Et cetera. And right now, it'd be easier to hunt wolves on foot with Sarah Palin and Vladimir Putin than it would be to find a job in Leeds. But I digress...

Went down to London earlier this month to get my passport renewed; an interesting experience to be sure, as it's the second time ever, and the first time since I was seventeen. [Sidenote: my old picture is horrible, and probably why I had no problem getting into Spain: the customs official thought no one sneaking in would possibly use such a horribly outdated and unattractive photo. This feeling was also expressed by the check-in girl at Stansted.] This was also the first time I've ever applied outside the U.S. Also, the only time I've stood in lines and watched guys with machine guns watch me. The U.S. Embassy is guarded by police with guns. They take their job very seriously. Their job is to make sure no one looks at the embassy. I know this because while I was waiting in line (outside, twenty feet from the check-in booth, where they x-ray you à la airport, before you get to go back outside, through a big gate and into the embassy itself), a man with a camera walked up and took a picture of the giant eagle chevron positioned on the top of the embassy. He was immediately surrounded by three armed men, who deleted the picture, took the photographer’s details, radioed the details to wherever they check them, and made sure he wasn’t a known terrorist, echo bravo niner, over. Which, I’m assuming, he wasn’t:

Photographer: Uh, what’s up officers?
Guard 1: Excuse me sir, just what do you think you’re doing?
Photographer: Um, I just wanted a picture of the eagle…
Guard 2: You do realize that pretty much means you hate freedom, don’t you?
Photographer: I just thought it lo-
Guard 1: Sir, I don’t believe you did think. Are you a member of Al Qaeda?
Photographer [shocked]: No! The London Photography club!
Guard 2: Al Jazeera no doubt.
Photographer [tearfully]: What?
Guard 1: Sir, we are at WAR. With TERROR. Do you know what that’s like?
Photographer: Well, I’m begin-
Guard 2: Yeah, he’s pretty much an insurgent.
Photographer: I’m from Putney!

If an embassy is the embodiment of the nation it represents, its actual location being a piece of that nation, then what does this say about America? That we are terrified by anything that moves outside our borders?

There’s a great statue of Franklin D. Roosevelt in the park across from the embassy; I was going to take a picture of it, but I was too terrorized.

As mentioned above, I went to Spain. Jo and I actually, and to Seville specifically. There’s a lot to tell about our time there, and I just can’t make this post four times as long to accommodate it right now. I will post about it though. Honestly.

Other trips we've gone on recently [checks through photos on computer to refresh memory] include: Ilkley, Derbyshire, Durham and the North Sea, Haworth and the Brontë museum, Seville, Whitby, Fountains Abbey, and the Royal Armouries in Leeds. I’ll write more about these trips in the next post, which I am tentatively calling “Autumn Trips”. There are some photos floating around the ether that can hopefully be connected with this site, so’s you can see some of the fun things that have gone down.

There may have been other trips as well, I just can’t remember them/didn’t take photos. This is bad. The camera, while being an excellent tool for capturing events, still separates the photographer from the event – the lens becomes a barrier between the event and the witness. So I’m stuck between remaining an outsider at events/places, and being an outsider in my own mind because I don’t remember events/places. I have a photographic memory – if there are photographs of me there, I remember. My mental hard drive’s just a bit faulty.

If all goes to plan, the “Autumn Trips” post should be up fairly soon; I’m only partially employed, and have time on my hands while waiting for employers to discover my brilliance. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Happy pre-Christmas shopping,

Thom-->

Me and an orc at the Royal Armouries.

To-Read List

2008-08-24T21:54:00.004+01:00

Having finished the massive load of reading required for my dissertation, I am now looking forward to reading for fun again. Not that reading every available scrap of writing written by Greene isn't fun; but there are a few things I've been meaning to read over the past six months that I just haven't had the chance to.

So, as I don't really have the energy to think of anything better to write, here's a list of the books that I'm planning on reading/have bought already, in no particular order (kind of):

01. "And the Ass saw the Angel" by Nick Cave (currently reading) - a strange, dark, "Southern Gothic tragedy" by the Australian rock star. Who is not looking that great these days.

02. "The Ministry of Fear" by Graham Greene - I started it, and then realised that it really didn't apply to my dissertation. But it's really good. Really really.

03. "Twenty Letters to a Friend" by Svetlana Alliluyeva - Iain left me this before he went to Japan, and I now have time to read it.

04. "Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith" by Anne Lamott - my mum got me this one for my birthday.

05. "The Once and Future King" by T.H. White - I haven't read this one since just after I finished my undergrad, and it was good then.

06. "Galileo's Daughter" by Dava Sobel - recommended by Jo's dad, who generally had good taste in books.

07. "Dance Dance Dance" by Haruki Murakami - one of the (few) Murakami Harukis I haven't read yet. Haven't even started the Murakami Ryus...

08. "Thud!" by Terry Pratchett - a little light reading, to help my brain heal a bit

09. "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" by Dee Brown - I've wanted to read this one since about 1995, and I finally found it in a used bookshop in Headingley.

10. "The Name of the Rose" by Umberto Eco - Oh Eco; brilliant, funny, and well-written. And so bloody long.

11. "Nip the Buds, Shoot the Kids" by Kenzaburo Ōë - Found this one for 50p. in a charity-shop-closing sale. And bought it, obviously. I have no idea what to expect of it.

12. "The Men Who Stare at Goats" by Jon Ronson - What? The US government spent billions of dollars on research into parapsychology and psychic warfare? Well, hopefully it all turned out better than that whole LSD thing.

13. "The Sense of Movement" (poetry) by Thom Gunn - Got this when I was reading Ted Hughes, and haven't had a chance to look at it yet. Hopefully it'll help get me back into poetry writing.

And loads more, I'm sure. Any recommendations? Comments? Gossip?

-t

Done

2008-08-23T04:45:00.002+01:00

Wow, I haven't posted in forever. Good news is, my dissertation is done (I hope). And by "done", I mean, "typed, proofread, retyped, reproofread, re-retyped, panic edited, formatted, printed, bound, and turned in". Read: DONE.

After turning in the beast (54 pages, including bibliography, for all those with wagers), I headed over to the student bar to meet up with some classmates. They're all younger than I am. They're all fresh-faced, and ready to go out into the world and find good careers. I, however, am ready to put on the giving-up pants, pop on some Nick Cave, and read a novel. I am not fresh-faced. I am old.

And I have a blog, and a summer, and some trips. Perhaps they could all have a little get-together sometime, and you could hear about them.

But not now. Now, Thom has to go to bed. Good night.

Gardening

2008-04-22T19:32:00.003+01:00

Today being the second sunny day in quite a while (and the first that I haven't been swamped), I decided to go out and work in the garden. Cleared out both flower beds that border the patio, worked a little along the borders, and planted some flowers and herb seeds.

Would put up pictures, but to be honest, right now all I have is four flowers, two dirt patches, and a sore back. Will put some up when there's more happening. Just pray there's no more frost...

Moral of the story: When the sun comes out in England, so do you.

"Spring" Post

2008-04-21T10:37:00.006+01:00

With "Spring" in quotations, because it really hasn't convinced me yet. I have my doubts. I've heard that last April the temperatures were in the 30s C/80s F, and this year they're varying between -1 and 15C/30-55F. Bah. At least it's not snowing...[large snowflakes begin wafting past the window]...crap.

Wow. Too long without a post - I've had a fairly serious case of being a student recently. Well, let me see if I can remember what's been going on:

Valentine's Day was the second anniversary of my meeting Jo, and the first anniversary of my first Valentine's Day stuck in the Cleveland International Airport. I don't remember what we did in celebration; probably just cooked dinner in and popped a bottle of wine. We're old like that.

Valentine's Day, 2007.

Jo and I went to London for a long weekend towards the end of February. Had a good, busy time checking out all the stuff we didn't see last time we were down: the Natural History Museum, a dinosaur, the Rosetta Stone (!), the Tower of London, Shakespeare's Globe(!!!), 'Monty Python's Spamalot', and a London karaoke box. Good times. :) We got to stay with Jo's former classmate Heather and her fiancé Eliot in south London, whose wedding we'll be attending less than a week after I get back from my brother's wedding in New York. Thom's carbon footprint is going to be rather large this year...

One boned and one deboned whale in the Natural History Museum.

Rar.

The Rosetta Stone. Actually one of the original Danielle Steele novels.

Temple Church, a la Davinci Code.

A 3500-year-old Egyptian obelisk, on the north bank of the Thames. Which is not in Egypt.

We had an earthquake! February decided that this year, it was going to give March a good running start, and shake things up a bit. It was only a "wiggle-wiggle shakey-shake" though, as opposed to an "ashes, ashes, we all fall down". Not bad; just thought I'd left the Land of Geologic Instability. (Speaking of Japan, Iain is back there - check out his fantastic new blog here.) Very strange to be lying in bed reading, and suddenly the ceiling starts moving. March, being a sissy this year, could not make up it's mind as to what season to be, but instead gave us a nice variety. Good for variety, bad for planning to do anything outdoorsy. Though we did get a couple of good Dale-walks in, Jo's folks were up for a visit just before Easter, and a nice walk around Horsforth Park on a sunny day was cut short due to high winds and low temps. In like a wobbly Lamb, out like a confused Lamb.

Jo, near the locks on the barge canal. Locks make me miss Syracuse. Kinda.

Me, on a hill overlooking the River Aire.

Went to see The Grouch, a modern adaptation of Molière's 'Le Misanthrope', in early March; the second play of the spring. It was very good, all rhyming couplets and not French. Which is fine, because I like rhymes (a la Fezzik) and I don't speak French. For play number three, we've got tickets to see Equus, the play about Harry Potter getting naked. And horses. Except our version has Lily Allen's little brother. Go fig.

Started working mid-March at a gastropub just south of Leeds station. That's the other thing that's been keeping me busy. The Cross Keys the pub's called, and it's a classy little place which once housed James Watt, the steam engine improver, during a period of industrial espionage on his part (apparently he'd invite his competitors' workers in a for a few pints after work, hoping to loosen some work secrets). It also houses a nice wine cellar, a great selection of beers (from all over the world), and serves fantastic toad in the hole and rhubarb crumble.

Been reading a great deal of Graham Greene, which goes nicely with the module/class on Greene I'm taking. Writing an essay on the similarities in Greene's The Power and the Glory and Shūsaku Endō's Silence, both of which are very good. Also working on an essay on the symbolism of public transportation in Virginia Woolf's The Years. Yep. We'll see how it goes.

Past week: work; restart uni (been out for a month on Easter holiday); reading Greene, Endō, Woolf, Ann-Marie MacDonald, and Carold Shields (whoops); sudokuing; listening to The Weakerthans.
This week: go to lectures; go to meetings; go to library; work on essays; go to leaving do's; go to work; watch Godzilla; go to bed.

The End.

In London, in front of the Nelson Column in Trafagar Square.

Classy Weekend

2008-01-20T12:19:00.003Z

Welp, it's Sunday again, which, of course, means that it's time for Sunday-afternoon things, which includes trying to write a blog-post.

Had a good weekend so far; went out to the opera on Friday night to see Puccini's 'Madama Butterfly'. Very good, very Italian, and very high. The first opera that I've not seen on TV, and seen in its entirety. Went to the grand Grand Theatre in Leeds, which is fantastic and beautiful and tall, and sat in the Upper Balcony, the only place they had seats available, but still had a good view. Good thing we're not afraid of heights. Very nice, beautiful singing, beautiful music, and a wonderful way to spend a rainy Leeds night.

Saturday had much better weather - actually sunny - for the first time in about a month. Jo and I decided to go down to Kirkstall Abbey, a local landmark not far from our place that we still hadn't been to on account of the weather. Kirkstall Abbey is a Twelfth-century Cistercian abbey which was disbanded (or de-monked) by Henry the VIII (pronouced veeee! like a German bobsledder) in 1539, partially collapsed in a storm in 1779, and was donated to the City of Leeds in 1889. During the Victorian period, the main road (now the A65) actually ran through the main sanctuary, but the end was bricked up when they moved the road to its present location. Couldn't fit trucks through, apparently. Here are some photos:

The Abbey. In all its January glory.

The front door. Through there you can see the nave, the main sanctuary of the church.

Illustrating the openness created by columns and arches. And the lack of roof.

Jo, in a doorway, just off the South Transcept.

Light and shadow. And ups and downs, and dizzy.

More to come, like more photos and captions and such, but I'm off to the City to try and find Weezer's 'Pinkerton' album. Is there a "Madama Butterfly" connection? Is this non-cynical citing of "high art" a sign of the decline of postmodernism in pop culture? We shall see...

Holiday Music

2008-01-15T13:37:00.000Z

This Christmas, Iain invited me and four others to make our own albums of the "best" Christmas music we could think of. The rules specified that the music didn't necessarily have to be Christmas music, but it had to somehow be connected to the holiday season.

Points to Iain for including the Lucy Liu's speech from Kill Bill (the "Queen's speech": a standard for any English Christmas) and to Jon for his inclusion of Low's "Last Snowstorm of the Year".

Here's mine:

1. Sigur Ros - "Hoppipolla"
2. Sixpence None the Richer - "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch"
3. Chuck Berry - "Run Rudolph, Run"
4. Charlie Brown - "Merry Christmas Baby"
5. Weezer - "The Christmas Song"
6. The Pogues - "Fairytale of New York"
7. Thrice - "Carol of the Bells"
8. The Dandy Warhols - "Every Day Should Be a Holiday"
9. U2 - "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" (the shopping anthem)
10. Weezer - "Holiday"
11. Joe Christmas - "Coupleskate"
12. Pedro the Lion - "Letter From a Concerned Follower"
13. The Weakerthans - "Bigfoot!"
14. Havalina Rail Co. - "Winter"
15. 3nd - "Season"
16. The Weakerthans - "Psalm For the Elks Lodge Last Call"
17. Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - "Somewhere Over The Rainbow/What a Wonderful World"

I decided to keep the theme going (procrastination, that is) and made up a New Year's album as well:

A New Year's Album
1. The Weakerthans - "(Manifest)"
2. U2 - "New Year's Day"
3. Motion City Soundtrack - "The Future Freaks Me Out"
4. Brighteyes - "The New Year"
5. Further Seems Forever - "New Year's Project"
6. Smashing Pumpkins - "1979"
7. Green Day - "Good Riddence (Time Of Your Life)"
8. Low - "Last Snowstorm of the Year" (sorry Jon)
9. Hum - "Songs of Farewell and Departure"
10. Jimmy Eat World - "My Sundown"
11. Badly Drawn Boy - "Year of the Rat"
12. Eels - "Fresh Feeling"
13. Keane - "Everybody's Changing"
14. The Beatles - "Hello Goodbye"
15. Abba - "Happy New Year"

(Hidden Track) Cake - "End of the Movie"

So whaddya think? Any glaring omissions, or songs that just really don't fit? What would you include on an album for the New Year? Any soundtracks for 2007? 2008?

So this is the New Year, and I have no resolutions.

2008-01-09T21:13:00.002Z

Welp, it's about time; time for the annual e-version of the Christmas/New Year's/Valentine's Day card that I failed to publish in analog form in the first place. So it's only 14 days late. Here goes:

Hello, friends and family and any web-readers unfortunate enough to have been pulled into this blog by way of the gravitational pull of my enormous online ego! Happy New Year!

And what a year it's been, eh? So here's a brief 2007 retrospective, for all of you who have just tuned in and are too lazy to look at the archives...
[dream fade-in effect thingy]

2007 started out in a little bar in a small town I like to call Tokyo, and got progressively more weird. We left Japan, my home for the past 19 months, on a cold morning in mid-January, bound for Jo's United Kingdom. The flight took 12 hours. We spent two lovely weeks in the UK, seeing many of sights from London to Edinburgh. I flew back to the US so I could be searched (twice, domestically) by National Transportation Safety Administration/Department of Inefficiency/Terrorism-Maker-Goer-Away-ers/whatever they're calling themselves these days. Managed to only get involved in one major snowstorm between NY and MN, and spend Valentine's Day in the Cleveland airport. Good times.

Mid-February to Mid-September
Lived in North Minneapolis, though a slightly less dangerous neighborhood than last time. Had two fantastic housemates, friends of mine from college, who, in addition to being sweet housemates and having a kiddie pool out back for cool summertime fun, also brew their own beer. Had lots of good times with them; most of which didn't really involve leaving the yard. One good time that DID involve leaving the yard included strapping a full-size mattress and boxspring to the roof of D's Kia. We always have good adventures.

Managed to only work three jobs this summer, including an original one. Walked into my old Caribou Coffee about three days after I returned, and was offered a job! If only all jobs were that easy...I'd have about fifteen jobs right now...and I'd be late for all of them... Anyway. Worked with cool new set of kids at the 'Bou, which means I'm batting 1.000 there. Started a screenplay about a coffeeshop in space, but have only got as far as the first page. :(
The second job was at the apartment building again. Lots of the same old cast (no pun intended), but they'd changed the interior scenery, which was very nice. Lots of weekend fun.
Third job was the new one, as a writing/communications intern at a large agricultural bank in St. Paul. Got the job through a good friend of mine, who was also my boss. I think she enjoyed that. Managed to (hopefully) save the company loads of money by helping research and design an e-newsletter for corporations, and even got one of my articles included on their new website. Good times. Finished there about ten days before moving to England to start univeristy again for the first time in three years.

Jo came out for a visit in early July, and got to see how we celebrate our lack of Britishness (and no, Iain, it isn't by invading yet another sovereign nation). After showing me the beautiful, historical sights in London, Cambridge, and many other places, I was eager to show Jo some of the amazing things Minnesota has to offer.

Ta da! A Big Ball o' Twine!

Spent a week in New York as well, splitting time between my parents' and the City. The City was a first for both of us (yes, I am that pathetic), but fantastic. Managed to eat just about everything the City is known for, as well as see a fair number of the sights. Still, a return journey will be required.

September-December
As previously mentioned, I moved to the UK this autumn to be with Jo and to start a Masters in English Lit at the University of Leeds. I decided that studying Jacques Derrida and deconstructionism would be useful in understanding postmodern literature; I decision I soon came to regret (It is a good course of study, just difficult).

Holidays
Spent Christmas at Jo's parents' in Cambridgeshire, which gave me the opportunity to meet just about every member of her extended family. Or, for them to meet me I suppose. Jo's mum is a fantastic cook, and somehow managed to feed all 10 or 13 or 650 of us huge, delicious meals every four hours every day we were there. Not sure exactly how much weight I put on over the course of one week, but it was probably in the double-digit-pound department. And a fine time was had by all.

Iain and Minori stopped by during our 2.5 days home between Christmas and New Year, which was excellent. Hadn't seen Iain in a full two weeks (oh wait, I didn't post about going to Edinburgh, did I? Crap. Story in a bit *), but we did get to do some more catching up. He's moving back to Japan in the spring, and pretty well ruining any chances of rock superstardom we had. Not that I'm bitter.

For New Year, Jo and I went with about 15 others to Abbeylands House (or here) in Alnwick, Northumberland, where a(nother) fine time was had by all, and massive quantities of food were also consumed. We rang in the New Year in style, with food, champagne, dancing, games, and (gasp) fireworks. We successfully did NOT start the New Year with a large fire or a loss of damage deposit. Which was nice. Many of the party (I believe our number and relative age allow our group to qualify as a "party") took part in vigorous activity at some point during the weekend, whether it be a walk on the beach, a walk around Alnwick (An-nick), or a game of footy. I, however, was behind a desk writing, or in "the reading room" ("!!!") reading Derrida (which brought Counting Crows to mind quite a bit - It's been a long December, and there's reason to believe/That this year will be better than the last). Oh well, the bastard paper's done.
Got back from Northumberland an afternoon ahead of the UK's first widespread snow, which was nice. It lasted on the ground a good day before politely melting and further confusing the budding trees (who I kind of imagine looking frantically around and thinking "WTF?").

Turned in the bastard paper and the other paper last Monday, which may or may not be the best feeling in the world. Other than the impending grade. Bah and humbug. Spent the last week recuperating from writing, playing Age of Empires II, and sleeping. Coming down with a bugger of a cold, and will probably spend this week recuperating from that, trying to find a job, and reading the 47 Graham Greene books I've got. Luckily, D sent some over with my coat. Will go get that from the Post Office (pox on their houses) tomorrow...

New Years Resolutions:
1. Be more punctual.

Damn.

* Embra wknd in a nutshell: Train, car, chat, beer, sleep, wake, walk, bookstore, museum, dressing up like a centurion, sleet, snow, pub, fins scots and spaniards, talk, games, sleep, car, train. Good times.
.

Tragedies

2007-12-01T12:20:00.000Z

This horrible news just in from the nation of Cumbria:
Beer Can Spillage Closes Motorway.

Luckily, the (Scottish) driver suffered only minor injuries, mostly related to fighting with emergency workers as they attempted to remove him from the vehicle.

And now for the really bad news:
US Daredevil Evel Kneivel Dies.
Front page of the UK-version of BBC News. Take that America. And not the boy-band either.

'"What a showman - that was the part I liked about him the most. Anyone [who] can ride a motorcycle and do tricks - and they usually come off - is pretty much a fool," fellow motorcycle show jumper Bubba Blackwell told the BBC's World Today programme.'

(sigh) I'll never watch someone fail to jump a canyon on a rocket-powered motorcycle again.

Here he is. Rock you like a hurricane.

Thanksgiving Weekend

2007-11-25T13:38:00.000Z

Apologies to family members I haven't called yet; I should be doing so shortly. :(

In my defence, it's been an extremely busy "weekend": Jo cooked up a huge turkey dinner for Thanksgiving proper and Faye helped out with the veg (only minor help from yours truly), and I tried to finish up reading for my Thursday lecture. Had eight people over for dinner, and a good time (and lots of food) was had by all. Only downside was no Detroit Lions on TV. Oh well. Turkey dinner and pie! mmm...

Had my Derrida lecture Friday noontime, came home, got packed and headed out with Jo and Lisa for the Yorkshire Dales. Jo's friend Janette was celebrating her birthday at the Layhead Farm Cottages near Settle, settled (ahem) peacefully between Wigglesworth and Giggleswick. Hahaha!

No, seriously.

The cottage we stayed at was fantastic, huge and homey, with two big dining rooms and a wood stove in one of the living rooms, about eight bedrooms and four baths, a big upstairs and a bigger downstairs, an inside and an outside, and - oh. Never mind. About ten people in all; with some leaving and some arriving the next day. Cooking and eating commenced not long after arrival, followed by games and stories and talking. Some crashed out "early", and some crashed out "early". Those who crashed out "early" felt much better when they got up for breakfast around 11 the next morning. The others had fizzy-pop for starters.

The Yorkshire Dales are apparently "famous" because they were the original location for Calendar Girls, a 2003 film where Helen 'Queen Elizabeth' Mirren decides to go buff for charity. There's a walking tour you can take to see all the 'sights' and locations used in the film. We decided to skip it. The DVD was included with the room, so you could see some of "the beautiful Yorkshire countryside", but that was skipped as well. It must have been filmed in the summer, 'cause there's no way I'd get my bits out in Yorkshire during the winter.

Headed out for a hike through the Dales in the early afternoon, got about a mile out, and realised we had no idea where we were. Still, it was absolutely beautiful landscape. Roger, Janette's boyfriend, managed to locate our approximate position - just north of/above the bottom of the map, and about 4 inches/2 miles from where we though we were. Found our way home, changed out of soaked socks, and headed into Settle (also between Wigglesworth and Giggleswick, cough) for tea. Found a quaint little tea shop, the idyll of proper English-ness, called "Ye Olde Naked Man Cafe". Yup.

On the way to the tea shop, Jo turned around and said, "Do you know who that man just there was?" Naked or not, I didn't. "I think it was Alan Bennett!" And it was. Clothed. Award-winning actor, author, and playwright. In a charity shop. In Settle.

Go fig.

Returned early as I'd previously purchased tickets to see a little group called The Weakerthans, who hail from a little place called Winnipeg. Which they allegedly hate.

Bang-up show; they played all the great songs, played 'em fast, and played 'em loud. It was great. The crowd pretty well filled the venue and sang along to all the songs. I sang along too. Jo told me to be quiet. I think the band had almost as good a time as the crowd did. Towards the end of the aforementioned "One Great City!", as lead singer John K. Samson finished with "I... Hate...", there were disembodied cries of "Croatia!"

Best things screamed from the crowd:
- "I hate Croatia."
- "I hate England."
- "I hate footy."
- "I just like to shout."

And Samson's:
- "I'm sorry, I have absolutely no idea what you just said."

Samson started another song with, "This is a song about curling. Which of course, was invented by your neighbors to the north", which was greeted by groans. "Where did you go? I seem to have lost the crowd again."

But anyway, good show. Good weekend in general. Found out I don't have a lecture tomorrow, which means I can go into town and buy socks instead. Yay! Maybe do a bit of Christmas shopping as well. And then there's the library books to return, the books to read, and the assessed essays to start. Should be fun...

rock'n'roll.

Bonfire Night

2007-11-06T09:41:00.000Z

Bonfire Night

Spent the day at Leeds Uni, copying what looks like a mammoth article for my Derrida lecture on Friday (its mammoth size having intimidated me into not opening it yet), and returning books to the library.

Stopped at OxFam, a charity shop, on the way home to look at books, and managed to find both The Napoleon of Notting Hill and The Incredulity of Father Brown by Chesterton. Two big discoveries: the Notting Hill is a recent edition, which means that GKC is finally back in print (including his ever-hysterical Autobiography – who knew George Bernard Shaw starred in a cowboy film?), and the oldish-looking Father Brown appears to be, in fact, a first edition! And I picked them up for under a fiver (~$10US)! Yay, bookshopping.

Got home after dark, or approximately 3:45pm (okay, so it was closer to 5pm), and started putting on layers for the annual outing to see the Bonfire Night fireworks. Note to Grandmas: I’m staying warm. Years of living in Minnesota taught me to layer. Five layers = nice and toasty. Jo fought the car through hoards of people approaching Roundhay Park, the site of the festivities. Met up with Jo's friend Anna, then with Lisa and her housemates, and headed out through masses to the park. They'd already lit the bonfire by the time we'd arrived, but the cold temps and sheer number of people wanting to get warm made getting close to the fire impossible. So instead we got to watch it blaze away like a California autumn from the relative safety of the hot doughnut queue. Mmm...doughnuts... And I have lots of beautiful fireworks photos on my imaginary camera, which was the one I did remember to bring. D'oh. Headed back to Anna's for some hot beverages and food after the fireworks and mass emigration. Met some of Anna's housemates and friends and chatted for a bit, before heading home. Fun fun, nice folks.

Got some texts too, which I'd reply to, but it's pay-as-you-go, and expensive. So here:
Fi: Aww! Sorry you missed the fireworks; but the theatre sounds fun too! :)
Claudio: Sounds like fun! Hope there weren't any explosive-related injuries! ;)
Iain: No.

A Communications Code for the Letter 'N'

2007-11-04T17:42:00.000Z

Hello all! Y'ell right there?

Weekend's end again. The past week has been been a bit of a blur; I'm not exactly sure where it went, but I DO know that, as of today, my student loans cheques have been deposited in my UK account, my student fees have been paid, I am registered for all my classes, and all assignments up to this point have been turned in.

Tomorrow begins Week 7 of the term. There's no time like the past, apparently.

Good weekend though: started out with a nice lie-in on Saturday, which was beautiful, so Jo and I decided to take a hike through the Yorkshire countryside. For four hours. Hilarity and cowpies ensued.

Traveling through the land of paths and arrows: Jo guards against malevolent bovines.
Cows are curious creatures.

Horses and beautiful Cookridge.

Hitsuji o Meguru Bōken, as a wise man once called it.

After finding our way back in one piece, and scraping the cow crap off our shoes, it was about time to head off for dinner. Dinner and fireworks, to be precise, at Jo's friend Lisa's house, where the chilli flowed like wine, the wine flowed like...wine, and explosive things were launched into the air with frightening velocity. Guy Fawkes night's coming up y'know.

Unfortunately had to call quits early so as not to miss a near-midnight screening of Sigur Rós' docu-travel-concert-logue 'Heima'; which is a beautiful musical romp through the band's native Iceland; all parts concert footage, scenic travel footage, and Icelandic people footage. All set to Sigur Rós. Obviously. Absolutely stunning; never before had I wanted so much to stand on a glacier with a semi-bearded man singing a song called "Sé Lest" in a falsetto. But seriously, it's much better than I make out.

Got home at 1:30. Crashed out. Woke up today late. Realised that I've got two essay proposals due this week, followed by bibliographies, thesis proposals, and essays of various assorts the following week, Thanksgiving (which we will be celebrating) on the horizon and - gasp! - The Weakerthans on the 24th. Be still my beating heart. And if you haven't heard their new album, Reunion Tour, go find it right now. I'll wait till you get back.

It's gonna be a busy month. But nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain.

Ha.

PS - Just for fun: icanhascheezburger.com

Funniest. Thing. EVER.

2007-10-22T13:46:00.000+01:00

What this has to do with chocolate bars, I have no idea. But we still laugh every time we see it.

In other news:
Yay, weekends.
Boo, England losing.
Yay, Ian Flemming.
Boo, Jacques Derrida.
Yay, Postal Strike being over.
Boo, USPS not offering surface shipping.

Thatisall.

Mystery

2007-10-03T08:57:00.000+01:00

From just 'round the corner:

English villagers scratch heads over mysterious gargoyles

How'd you like to wake and find one of these on your doorstep?

**UPDATE**
Apparently the mystery has already been solved. BBC 1, Yahoo! News 0.

The House

2007-09-22T23:38:00.000+01:00

Sorry for the delay in writing; the past couple of weeks have been fairly busy: setting up my modules (classes), locating lecture halls/meeting rooms for said modules, trying to reintegrate myself into the "student" frame of mind, reading for the modules (so far Derrida, Joyce, and Freud have all been taking large portions of my time), and, of course, setting up the house. And all are going fairly well.

Here's some photos of how things are going:

The Outside

Our House, in the middle of the street. Number 31.

Round the side: all these flowers were here when we moved in. Nice!

Flowers on a sunny day.

The back garden, pre-cleaning.

The back garden, post-some cleaning.

Our shed. I had some ideas of turning it into a Twainean writing cabin, but Jo thought perhaps a desk indoors might be better. There were spiders to contend with, too.

The Inside

The entry hall. This is where we enter. It works well. It will soon feature a coat stand as well.

Early in the living room set-up. A bit empty...

The living room. We're definitely reaching a sense of normalcy here. What you can't see (behind me in this photo) is that we've acquired a table as well (two, actually). The current one is courtesy of Jenny and Dom, and pulls out to accommodate more than three people comfortably.

The kitchen. Very white, but has a good view of the shed.

The University

The Theatre department meets in the old chapel, right up the road from...

The School of English, which occupies six "houses. " These were originally the homes of rich people connected with the Univeristy, but were bought at some point, and now house various schools within the University. House 8, the central door, has a fantastic staircase which connects the school library and the main lounge.

The University chaplaincy meets in this little hovel.

The Parkinson Building, the main entry building at the Unviersity. Also connects to the Brotherton Library, which I'll have to get a photo of. Amazing.

England

2007-09-19T05:47:00.000+01:00

Hello!

Well, it was a long, harrowing, difficult task, but I finally managed to get myself over the Pond to the UK. For the record: I will never move again. Ever. Frankly, I’m not young enough to do it.

3am last Wednesday (wow, it seems longer than that) found me staring at a half-empty box muttering “There’s no more room, no more room, no more, no more, no more room, no more…” over and over, and shaking gently as only overdosed coffee addicts can. I was probably in that state two or three minutes before I realized that I was bordering on clinical, and decided that I’d go outside for some fresh air to clear my head. It did: it was 37 degrees out. It was the first time I’d seen my breath since March.

Note to self: sleep. It’s good for you. You’re not 22 anymore, you actually need to see the inside of your eyelids at least once a day. Your bizarre, barbecue-skewed dreams miss you. Did not sleep at all the night before I left. Slept about 4.5-5 hours the night before that. Apparently slept about an hour and a half on the first flight, from Minneapolis to Newark; all I know is I opened my eyes at one point and the guy next to me was eating lunch. Yep, totally missed that one. It was okay though, as I’d had a double cheeseburger for breakfast. And I’d much rather miss lunch than a flight.

I’ve decided that I don’t like Newark Airport. First off, they renamed it “Liberty International”. Nice to know I have the liberty to take off my shoes in public and get patted down by a strange man I’ve never seen before. Internationally. (Something something “those who want both freedom and safety deserve neither freedom nor safety” something Benjamin Franklin.) And “Liberty International” doesn’t have any benches in the terminals; you either sit at your gate or in a food court. Talk about captive market. All (and I mean ALL) the chairs are those annoying row-chairs with the arm-rests bolted in between. You cannot possibly lay down on one to sleep. I believe this is simply part of a deviously giant socio-psychological experiment to see how much it takes to make a sleep-deprived traveler buy $5 double cheeseburgers for breakfast.

Anyway, rant over.

In the UK. Finally arrived in London around 9:30am local time, or 37:45 body time, only to wait in line for an hour to get through Customs, which took approximately 90 seconds. Must be a new counter-terrorism technique: threaten suspects with the possibility of hours-long queues (lines) with no air conditioning BEFORE entering the country. It almost put me off, and I'm not a terrorist!

I am, however, very happy to be back in the same country as my girlfriend; who has very graciously put up with my American inability to understand most things English (such as roundabouts and English cuisine). We did get moved up to Leeds on Friday evening, and are still in the process of settling in. The house is about a 5-minute walk from a bus line, so I can get to the University pretty easily. I'm still working on getting all the necessities set up (not the toilet so much as a bank account); spent most of yesterday walking between the University campus and the City Centre trying to get the bank thing sorted. Apparently you need a letter from the University to get an account; even if the bank brochure clearly states that all you need is a passport. Good to know for next time. I have my first "informational meeting" later on today, which should be exciting. I met a couple Japanese guys who are also in the English postgrad course, so hopefully we'll be able to have some proper Japanese food soon.

Anyway, off to bed. Need to sleep again...and not at 6am like it is now...

Sonambually,
T-->

Also

2007-09-05T23:21:00.001+01:00

In response to Iain's fiery post of August the 25th.

On behalf of all the Americans who:
1). Share in your grief over the tragic loss of British troops, and the tragic circumstances that led to their deaths;
2). Share in your grief, because it is our grief as well;
3). Do not support the war in Iraq, believing that it is immoral and a gross over-extension of power by those who seek to gain ever more power;
4). CANNOT WAIT until the current "administration" is out of power, so we can, hopefully, begin to regain the trust of the rest of the world; and
5). Belong to the majority who have never voted for a Bush, tree, shrub, creeping vine, or any other kind of semi-sentient vegetation.

We, the above, hereby humbly offer Exhibit B as an example that, in war, there are very rarely innocent parties.

We hope and pray that someday soon we can cease using a generation as cannon fodder for the gain of rich politicians. Of all countries.

"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed."
- Former President, and General, Dwight D. Eisenhower

Seven Days

2007-09-05T19:28:00.000+01:00

So it's down to seven. Seven days until I fly off to Jolly Old England. Seven days of cleaning, packing, trying to sort out which books I want to keep and which books I want to take, sorting, re-packing, saying goodbyes, re-re-packing, trying to finish seeing/doing everything I want to see/do, and, oh yeah, packing again.

Should be fun.

I am currently seated in a coffee shop in Minneapolis, eating a meatloaf sandwich with ketchup and mayo, and drinking coffee. I'm not procrastinating, it's a see/do thing. Procrastinating doesn't come till a much later stage. Ask Jo.

To review the past couple of weeks (three, I think) since my last post:

I finally convinced the post office to start delivering my mail. No thanks to Dewayne, my carrier. "Dewayne: I huntd teh beez. pls leev mai mails. ktnxbye."
Thanks mostly to Jo, I've received everything from Leeds that I needed to send in my visa application. Jo drove to Leeds to personally pick up the letter and overnighted it to me herself because Leeds can't do either. Beaurocracy will kill me.
I sent in my visa application, and actually received my visa less than a week later. Apparently the British Consulate General was neither educated at Leeds nor worked for the U.S. Postal Service, and I am greatful for both. However...
FedEx couldn't deliver the visa (and my passport and papers vital for my arrival in England) to my home because I was at work. Like I was every single day of the week. This was a Friday, so a "concerned" call from my "concerned" girlfriend convinced me to go pick up the envelope from the FedEx depot myself. I got there in the evening, only to find out that the truck carrying the envelope had gone out on a parcel-retrieval run. Oh goody. Waited for the truck to come back, picked up the envelope, thanked the workers there profusely, and then checked that the envelope actually contained the visa/passport/papers. In the parking lot.
I bought tickets to England. I leave AREA NOT DISCLOSED the 12th (after deciding that flying the 11th was tempting Fate too much) and arrive in AREA ALSO NOT DISCLOSED on the 13th. And despite the departure being two and half weeks away, they were MUCH cheaper than I'd been expeting. Yay!

One downside to moving, besides self-induced stress due to procrastination, is a slight feeling of impending doom; the closer I get to something important, the more likely the Universe is to try is screw/kill me. I'm not sure if cosmic paranoia is a sign of mental deterioration, but if it is, don't tell anyone. Things have gone fairly smoothly so far, excepting the SNAFU with the bees/letter-from-Leeds thing/FedEx thing, but I'm becoming increasingly wary of animatronic seafood outside restaurants. (What is the irrational fear of being crushed by a large animatronic crab call? Aniostraconophobia?) The Air Force accidentally flying five nuclear weapons across the United States hasn't helped things any. Sigh.

On a brighter note, I'm finished with work, both jobs, all hours, day and night. It's been kind of nice to have three days together off; something I haven't experienced since Jo was out in July. I totally rock at days off; yesterday was productive, and I cleaned off my desk (for the most part) and even selected a box of books for sorting. This morning, pre-coffee-shop, I started sorting out the box and managed to select over a dozen books for redistribution. This is a major accomplishment for me, as I've been actively accumulating books for the past five years. I even skipped the Barnes and Noble downtown, where I really actually need to pick up at least one book. Oh well, the library is cheaper, and takes up less space in my suitcase. (This is a major concern; I think my suitcase has one more major move in it. England may have to become my permanent home chiefly because of this. They don't make suitcases in England.)

Left to go:

Sort the other five boxes of books.
Several trips to Good Will to donate approximately 3.7 cubic tons of clothing and books.
Cleaning the hell out of my room. I think there's a spot of hell growing in the corner.

(It's like that joke:
Boy - Daddy, is it true that the Bible says that we come from dust?
Father - Yes, it does say that.
Boy - And does it say that when we die, we go back to dust?
Father - Uh, yes, it says that too.
Boy [pauses] - Um, okay. You'd better check under my bed then; there's someone either coming or going.)

See friends before I leave. Saturday: party, my house, be there. (With a ten-point bonus if you know the reference.)
Actually pack.

Oh goodness.

MN friends: Drop me a note sometime this week; we can still hang out, albeit briefly.
UK friends: Put the kettle on, I'll be there soon.

Peace,
Thom -->

Why My Job Rules. For Two More Weeks.

2007-08-21T23:53:00.000+01:00

For the summer, I've been working at a large bank in St. Paul, which has been awesome. I work as a writer/communications person, which is definitely awesome. I don't think I've done the same thing two days in a row all summer (other than writing, which is different every day). Sweet.

Anyway, yesterday I was putting the finishing touches on an e-newsletter we're putting together, but a letter that was supposed to be included hadn't come in. So I did what any good writer does in such a situation: I made one up.

"Dear Bank,

How are you? I am fine. Summer camp is very fun, and I am having a good time. Every day I go swimming and fishing and hiking and camping and sky diving and ultimate fighting and paragliding and spelunking and sometimes even roast marshmallows. All the guys in my cabin are very nice and tell me that they "got my back". That's good, because we had to launch a counter-attack against the girls camp across the lake last week, and one of the girls almost hit me with a javelin. My bunk-mate Jimmy got an Atomic Wedgie and had to be airlifted to the nearest trauma center. We lost a lot of good men on that raid.

Anyway, tomorrow we're going to go camping again, and Jeff, the counselor, says we'll be right near a big waterfall where we can go swimming and fishing. He says the Niagara Falls Hilton is one of his favorite places to camp because it's really near a casino.

Next week is my team's week to work in the dining hall. I like working in the dining hall because that means we can help the cook pick out the meals. My favorite is macaroni and cheese. Maybe the cook will let us help him make macaroni and cheese next week. Last week, one of the teams' leaders didn't come to help pick out a meal, and we had to eat sauerkraut for dinner and then again for breakfast. That wasn't fun.

Well, I need to go again; it's my turn to patrol the perimeter tonight. The girls always attack on nights when there's no moon. Tell Mom and Dad I love them, and rub Rover behind the ears for me. Hopefully someday, when summer camp's over and the world's not such a crazy, mixed up place, we can go fishing in the creek out behind Old Man Baxter's barn. Remember the time he winged you with his shotgun? Hahaha! I still laugh about that.

The counselor's calling me now; he can hear the girls whispering in the trees beyond the perimeter. Wish me luck. If I die in a combat zone...

Yours,

Danny"

Epilogue:
It turns out the letter, which showed up in my inbox this morning, was from the Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Bank, and had to do stocks and Bank progress over the last quarter. Whoops. Glad I changed it before I submitted it.

PS - My job rules.

And the CEO loved my most recent article.

And my proposal was accepted, and the department is buying $2000 worth of video equipment.

And I get to write part of the scripts.

Send Emmys to Leeds.

Bees In The Door Are Keeping Me From England

2007-08-17T09:59:00.000+01:00

"Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't." - Mark Twain

How many stories have you heard that begin with, "You'll never believe this..."? And, inevitably, you do believe it, because either the story is so crazy that the person could not possibly have fabricated it, or they're a really good story-teller.

This is one of the former.

So it's true - or was true until this afternoon - that bees in the door were keeping me from England. I'd spent the past week and a half waiting for a "letter of financial provision" from the University of Leeds to arrive, so I could apply for my visa. Last Saturday I found a note written on an envelope from the mail carrier, saying "Bee nest in the door. Please take care of." I worked all weekend, which kept me from buying any Raid to kill said "nest" (if "nest" = "I can see two wasps"). Finally got some on Monday, which I proceeded to use with great vigor, if not effect ("nest" = "four wasps crawling out of a crack next to the door" [as opposed to the Republican National Party, which is "four WASPs on crack, trying to crawl in the door"]). Found a note taped to the front door on Tuesday, which read,

"Dear Postal Customer,

Your carrier has reported that the area around your mailbox has a problem with a bee or wasp nest nest nearby. Please take a minute to check your mailbox and surrounding area for this problem if located; please eliminate this problem as soon as possible.

Accidents and injuries to carriers cause not only pain and injury to your carrier but also cause additional expense to the U.S. Postal Service. Bee or wasp stings to some employees who are allergic are potentially fatal.

Thank you for your time and prompt attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

Timothy C ---
Manager, Customer Services
B-------- Station"

(Which, for the record, I have yet to reply to for fear of what the postal monopoly would do; but I do know that, if the option to privatize the Postal Service comes up, I'm definitely voting Yea. If I did respond, it would look something like this:

"Dear Mr. C---,

I have checked with the area around my mailbox, and it does not report having any problem with a bee or wasp nest. The area says the wasps are friendly, and even invite it round for tea occasionally. Perhaps my carrier discovered a problem bee or wasp nest near my mailbox?

However, I did manage to locate one of your semicolons, who mentioned that she had been misplaced.

And sometimes, bee or wasp stings can be fatal to some carriers with allergies. They should take care during the summer, as these occupational hazards are much more common at that time. Perhaps they should locate more suitable employment that don't require them to come into any contact with Nature. Such positions exist.

Thank you for your time and prompt attention to this matter.")

So. Short story long, I managed to get my mail delivered. All it took was:

calls to four different postal employees,
two large-scale bombardments of aforementioned "nest",
a note to my carrier taped to the door on two consecutive days informing them the proverbial coast was clear,
a large can of Raid prominently displayed in the window to emphasize that point,
a large can of Raid prominently displayed on the front steps to re-emphasize that point,
a medium-size cardboard box with the word "MAIL" stencilled across the top, and
four days.

So I got home from work yesterday, excitedly opened the letter from Leeds...and found they'd gotten my date of birth wrong.

Dirty double dog damn.

So calls to a now-frantic girlfriend ensued, plans were made to call Leeds, emails were written, emails stating that 'the US has invaded countries with less provocation than this' were deleted, a large vodka tonic may have been consumed, sleep was achieved briefly, and Leeds was contacted. Or rather, they contacted me. At 3:15 this morning.

The official word: Things are being sorted.

More to come...

August

2007-08-08T05:33:00.000+01:00

au·gust \ȯ-ˈgəst, ˈȯ-(ˌ)gəst\ adjective
Etymology: Latin augustus; akin to Latin augur
: marked by majestic dignity or grandeur august lineage>

I am old.

But I've got good friends (who got my name up in lights last night).

A beautiful girlfriend (whose visit I will write about - soonish).

And a lot I'm looking forward to. It's going to be a good year.

Greetings From Times Square!

2007-07-15T17:04:00.000+01:00

Hello from New York City!

Jo and I are currently in Times Square, having just seen the Naked Cowboy, and getting ready to go down to see the Statue of Liberty. Last night we saw Times Square (at night) and the Empire State Building (which we will hopefully climb this evening), and ate bison and Buffalo chicken wontons. Our hotel is one block from Central Park AND Carnegie Hall! New York is wonderful.

So far this trip we've been halfway across the country, been stuck in Philadelphia, and have met the parentals. Good times.

Photos and updates as opportunities arise.

Currently hot and humid, with a chance of rain this evening.

Love and cheesecake,
T-->

Jo's Here!

2007-07-09T05:17:00.000+01:00

Oh boy, has it been a busy few days!

(oops, just found this one.)

Non-post

2007-06-21T00:56:00.000+01:00

I work a lot. It's busy there. I sleep sometimes.

Watch this instead.

Mystery Science Theater 3000 - "A Date With Your Family"

The New Job(s)

2007-06-09T18:12:00.001+01:00

A beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor, and I got none. I'm inside working, and looking out the window at a gorgeous 75-degree sunny day. Three and a half hours to go...

Anyway, this is job number 2, the apartment, weekends. This is the short job. This is one of the two I had before I went to Japan. This is pretty easy. The other job, the new one, it's a blast. I am now, according to an intranet post, the new communications intern at AgriBank, FCB in St. Paul. It's cool; I get to write, edit, design, interview, and listen to some pretty big names in the U.S. agricultural lending industry. Every day is something new and different, and I'm never bored! And I get to walk into Caribou and order drinks, instead of just making them (though I have to pay for them too, which isn't nearly as fun). And if work gets too busy, and I need a little break from my own windowed cube, I can simply take my provided laptop home with me, and work from home! Did I mention how much I like this job?

So I'm staying busy, working 7 days a week, saving money, "staying out of trouble" as some put it. I'm staying out of everything, truth be told. Oh well, the Girl is coming out soon, and then it'll be two weeks of fun and games and travel. Next scheduled day off: July 4th. Next possible day off: June 16th, for Cody's wedding and Becca's birthday party. Busy busy.

Okay, back to work. Or work still. One or t'other.

Keep yer powder dry,
T-->

The End of an Era. Again.

2007-06-02T20:00:00.001+01:00

Good night, sweet drinks.

Well, it HAD to happen eventually. I'm finally finished at Caribou. Again.

A customer came in on Thursday, and I told him that the next day was going to be my last, to which he replied, "What? Again!?" This is the third time I've quit at this store in the past three years. And hopefully my last.

Rock on, 'Bou kids.

Started my "second," weekend job at my grandma's apartment again last weekend. I worked here full-time before I headed out to Japan; the same time I worked part-time at Caribou. Coming back was a bit like coming full circle, a bit like starting over, and a bit like coming home. It's good to be making some extra money, and good to be able to see my grandma more.

Start my next full-time gig in St. Paul on Tuesday. Not exactly sure what all it entails, "it" being a writing/communications internship, but it'll be good to start something new again, and hopefully help pad the ol' résumé with some decent business writing skills. And it'll definitely help in the finance department with getting prepared for England.

In other news, the Girl comes out for a visit in T-Minus 30 days, which has got me very excited indeed, and has me trying to find some fun things to do while she's here. So far the plan includes:

Going to see "1776," a musical about the Founding Fathers, at the Guthrie.
Going to a Saints game (since the Twins ever so inconsiderately decided to play away games while she's here).
Having a Fourth of July barbecue (where there will be NO burning of British citizens ;) ).
And going to see the World's Largest Ball of Twine in Darwin, MN.

Nothing but class for my lady.

Summer is upon us here, and tomorrow is lawn-mowing-before-work day, which will hopefully include some sun-tanning (or sun-pinking in my melanin-deficient case) and exclude rain. Then Monday off, start work on Tuesday, and the long, down-hill run into July and the Girl's visit. Good times.

Updates as they become relevant.

T-->

Happy Mothers Day

2007-05-13T16:33:00.000+01:00

"My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it." - Mark Twain

Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers who read this blog - especially mine.

Flowers outside my window; 8 May, 2007.

Cinco de Mayo

2007-05-06T06:33:00.001+01:00

Nothing says "Cinco de Mayo" like a couple of South Seas Grogs and Walking Deads in tiki mugs from Psycho Suzi's Motor Lounge - the Twin Cities' only tiki-themed pizza joint.

Good times.

Good Pre-Weekend

2007-05-05T17:43:00.000+01:00

What a way to begin a weekend. Finished work earlier than expected on Thursday due to a clerical error on my part. Came home, almost fell asleep in the sun in the back yard, and then went in to take a little nap. Woke up and talked (and laughed) with Jo for a while, and got even more excited about moving to England. Danika and I watched a heated, wildly-gesticulating "discussion" between a neighbor and police. The police eventually left - after giving her a ticket. We decided that, since we weren't going to have a "Cops"-esque show in our front yard, we'd go bowling.

Ended up being the only customers in a 30-lane alley, and bowling 88, 106, 112, including a turkey in the 9th and 10th frames in the second. With coupons we had, the total for shoes and three games each came to $6.50. Total. Danika got a call from a coworker as we were finishing up the third game, asking us to come out to the bar where his brother works. We did.

Met up with Damien (who bears a striking resemblance to Robert Downey Jr., no matter what Danika says) and his brother (who looks kinda like the non-blond guitarist from The Juliana Theory), who immediately asked us if we wanted to be interviewed for Russian TV. Um, o-kay. So we played dumb Americans for the camera:
Damien: "How many countries do you think Russia has invaded in the past 20 years?"
Me: [counting slowly to five on fingers] Well...there's Afganistan...and...Moscow...and...I'd say about five."

Back inside, I got my first taste of Big Buck Hunter Pro, one of Danika and Damien's favorite after-work passtimes. If it wasn't $7 a go (split four ways isn't too bad), it'd be mine too. Got 16 bucks my first time around and came in a decent fourth out of four. Not bad.

Came back home and decided that it was time to watch the first season of the Animaniacs, my favorite cartoon from the early Nineties. The writing is still brilliant. Fell asleep after 2.5 episodes, called it a night, and went to bed. Work at 7 the next morning = bah.

Friday was long. Got up (but not awake) at 5:30(ish). Down two people at work means that four people have to do the work of six: keeping a steady stream of java flowing to hundreds of zomboid business-people. Good times. The way I see it, I'm one of a number of legalized drug dealers that help keep the economy running.

At the end of the rush, one of the managers at the hotel next door stopped by to tell us about the new café they were opening, and offered to buy us all lunch. Cool. I had my first sashimi in five months. Managed to drag myself through the next five hours of work with the help of four shots of espresso, then caught the bus down to Richfield to meet up with the fam to go see Drew's play. My cousin Drew was playing Claudio in Scott Glasser's adaptation of "Much Ado About Nothing." Fabulous. Great performance on all parts, even "Leonata", who got sick backstage halfway through the performance but still managed to finish the show, including the swing-dance number at the end. Cool.

Got back to Richfield about a quarter to 11, walked to the bus stop to realize that the last bus had gone by a half-hour earlier. Walked to the OTHER bus stop, 25 minutes away, caught the bus home, and plunked down to bed around 1:30.

Now it's Saturday, and the weekend has officially begun. I got up promptly at 11, and have done little all day. Not planning much either. Tomorrow is Emily's confirmation, and the plan is to get down there with Matt around noon. Then work. Again. I'm beginning to hate this cycle.

Happy Cinco de Mayo.

So...

2007-04-30T05:51:00.000+01:00

...guess who just got accepted into the English Literature postgraduate course at the University of Sheffield(!)?

Now just waiting to hear back from the other two, and the bank...

All The News That's Fit To Eat.

2007-04-22T21:43:00.000+01:00

Checked Iain’s blog yesterday morning; yeah, it hasn’t changed since he first got back to the UK. But I haven’t really updated mine either in a while, so perhaps I shall keep all my stones on the floor of my glass house, and hope that my good example will encourage him to update his blog as well. Because I want to know how Portugal was.

It’s been a fairly quiet two weeks in the Minneapple. Working at the ‘Bou still; but am currently in negotiations (read: they’re thinking about hiring me) for a paid writing internship at a bank in St. Paul. Waiting to hear about a possible in-house interview this week. Hopefully hopefully hopefully…

Note to the Yanks: Do Not Trust The U.S. Postal Service.
The USPS lost my application to Edinburgh. BUT, the Edinburgh staff is very understanding, and FedEx is awesome. Last Thursday I emailed Edinburgh just to check that they’d received my application, and got an email from them Friday saying they never got it. Oh. But if I could get it in by Wednesday they’d still accept it. Okay. So the folks at Caribou were very helpful and gave me time off to run to the library and print off all the applications/forms. Filled them all out, scanned the forms and transcripts, and emailed everything to Edinburgh. Ran over to Bethel to talk to profs and get more transcripts (as by opening the transcripts, I made them “unofficial” and needed more). Sent everything out via FedEx on Monday, which only cost me $65, but the staff gave assurance that it’d be there Wednesday or I’d get my money back. Sweet. Tracked the progress of my package like a hawk all the way to Edinburgh, and it arrived bright and early my time. Emailed my new penpals to let them know that, according to FedEx, the Eagle had landed and to let me know if there was any more I needed to do. They replied that they HAD received everything, and that everything would be passed along to the correct governing body. Cool. Now I’m just waiting for the good word, “Mr. Daily, we would like to offer you the chance to pay us 9000 pounds, and perhaps even give you a degree that will make you happy but will probably earn you a total of $3.74 over the course of your life. Thank you.” Here’s to hoping!

In other, non-academic, news, the beginning of the week was, for lack of a better term, hellacious. Caribou decided to cut my hours from 36-40 hours/week to 26-30 hours/week. Yay, I can pay rent…and maybe even student loans. Food? Transportation? Possibly, if I don’t over-do either. The end of the week picked up significantly: Thursday started out crap, but I finished at noon and went down to a nearby restaurant for some lunch, a beer, and to finish reading Graham Greene’s “The Quiet American.” The love interest in the story: a Vietnamese girl named Phuong. The waitress’ name on the cheque: Phuong. Weird.

Came back home after lunch, worked out a bit, and was about to hop in the shower when the phone rang. It was an HR woman calling to ask me some “pre-interview” screening questions for the internship. Must have done okay, because I got a link to the online “pre-interview part 2” survey the next morning. Next step: the actual interview.

D and L have begun brewing a batch of homemade orange wheat beer in the basement that evening, which I believe technically makes me living in a microbrewery. Which is awesome.

Finally some decent weather: 60-75F during the day and usually sunny. We had a little get-together yesterday which started out as friend Laura coming over to help us fill up the inflatable pool in the backyard, and finished with ten people plus the roomies out barbecuing. For six hours.

Summer is great – even in April.

Talked with Jo yesterday as well; which has got to be the best part of my week. The past week was crazy for both of us and we hadn’t had a chance to talk since last weekend. I miss her lots. But hopefully when the internship, the university applications, and airline ticket situations all get sorted, she’ll be out for a visit. Make your reservations to meet her now. Hoping for a Fourth of July shin-dig with Jo and any Japan-friends who want to make the short trek to Minneapolis. Nagoya Reunion ’07 – my place, be there.

Raining today but very warm, so I’m doing the blog thing and gonna do some room-cleanage in a bit.

Peace out,
t-->

Finished reading: “The Quiet American,” Need something new. Maybe more Chesterton.
Listening to: R.E.M.'s “Automatic for the People”

One Year

2007-04-07T19:25:00.000+01:00

Yay for one year together!

And to take a number-crunching hint from Fi, here's a breakdown of our year:

366 - Days together.
56 - Days apart. Sad.
15 - Cities visited, in
3 - Countries, on
2 - Continents. So far.
1 - Mountain climbed.
1 - Penis Festival visited (the second time we hung out).
1 - Festival (non-penis-related) taken part in.
168 - Approximate number of hours on trains.
14 - hours on airplanes.
5 -Forms of transportation used (subway, train, plane, ferry, and cablecar).
3 - 1800 Yen movies seen.

Things to remedy this summer:
4010 - Miles
5 - Months
162 - Kisses. At least.

Currently listening to: 'The Luckiest' by Ben Folds

PS - I tried to fix the Comments settings so you can post; let me know if I was successful, or just futilely pushed buttons. Cheers!

Blah-g

2007-04-03T09:47:00.000+01:00

Many apologies for my tardiness.

Frankly, my life has been fairly boring and non-blog-worthy over the past few weeks. Oh, there have been definite high points (the weather, seeing friends again, bowling), but overall, not a whole ton going on.

As previously stated, I am working at Caribou again, which has been a blessing of sorts; they pay me, and in return I wake before the beasts of the field and the birds of the air to get on a bus to go downtown and dispense coffee to semi-comatose businesspersons. This can either be better or worse than it sounds (and the getting on the bus at sparrowfart is ALWAYS worse than it sounds). I am not a morning person. If the Good Lord had intended for us to see the sun rise, He'd have put it in the middle of the day so we could all appreciate it fully. The upside to this little experiment in diurnality is that I get honest-to-goodness weekends off: I seriously haven't had actual weekends off from a job since...ever, I think. The only times I've had weekends to myself were also times when I didn't have a job. A paycheck AND Sat/Sun off? Nice.

For fun I am sleeping. Occasionally going out with friends. Did go bowling three or four times (including the non-traditional St. Paddy's bowl) before completely screwing up my right shoulder (which seems to be healing just fine on its own) and ending that particular form of exercise. A sign, I tell you. All attempts to get me to DDR have been fruitless, and will continue to be so. Been doing some "weight-lifting" the past couple of days in order to increase my buffness to an acceptable level before the Girl comes out this summer. Luckily for me, she doesn't have very high expectations. ;)

Have seen a lot of good friends recently; thanks in part to a "Welcome Back To America" party a couple of weekends ago. Finally got to see Eric again, thus confirming his continued existance, and Brendan got to reconfirm his existance as well, despite some doubts at one point. I've now seen all the former roomies-from-the-ghetto-house, some of the Bethel-roomies (of various eras), and lots of other Bethel-era friends. All seem to be doing well, which is very good.

Living with D and L is very good too; humorus to say the least, and has been very informative into the ways of the fairer sex. D's Mom: current medical research shows it is impossible to get pregnant by brushing your teeth in the same room as a member of the opposite sex. Especially when they aren't even in it at the time. We've all been eating pretty well too; living with two people who actually LIKE to cook makes for some nice dinners, some of which I can even help with. Hopefully my cooking expertise will improve to the point where I can cook Jo something other than instant ramen, fajitas, and pasta. Definitely digging the availability of chocolate milk in this country.

The weather is almost enough to make me wish for Nagoya. Almost. It's currently snowing outside. (Thank goodness. Inside'd be a pain.) It's rained for the past five days, which has been rather miserable. Ten days ago it was 80 degrees F and sunny and we barbecued three evenings in a row. Two weeks before that we had 15-18 inches of snow, with drifts up to my chest. You just can't win with the weather here; Minnesota is mad. I love it.

Speaking of Japan (which I did, kinda), this is just in from the "Geez, I'm Glad I Left When I Did" files: according to Jo and Brendan, there was a British English teacher (or, more accurately, an English teacher from Britain) killed in Tokyo recently. Scary. And, according to the newly-returned Iain, there was a fairly big earthquake just a couple of days (hours?) before he left. Glad he made it out okay. Francis, Brendan, Wong, you guys take care.

The biggest news (for me, at least) is that my grad school applications are in. Yay! Now all I need to do is pray that my offer to pay a university $18,000/year won't be rejected. It's kind of like desperate whoring in reverse. Edinburgh, me love you long time baby.

And that's all the news from Lake Woebegone. At least all the news I can remember; there may be more, but it's 2 and I need to be up in 4 hours. Bah. "Work is the curse of the drinking class."

Currently listening to: "Oscar Wilde" by Romantica.
Currently reading: Garrison Keillor's "Good Poems", having just finished Hemingway's "Islands in the Stream", and looking for a new novel to begin. Suggestions gladly accepted.

A Serious Error in Judgement

2007-02-24T19:06:00.000Z

The U.S. Weather Service is predicting 6 - 12 inches of snow by tomorrow evening. Perhaps a mistake was made in deciding to move to Minneapolis in February...

In other news, my month-and-a-half long holiday is coming to an abrupt end on Monday, when I will be returning to work at my old haunt, Caribou Coffee. Good times.

Next up: Oscar Party tomorrow night (hopefully), when friends will gather to try and guess which films I've never heard of will wow the Academy and win Best Costume Design. And there will be wine.

Joy.

Whoa

2007-02-18T23:23:00.000Z

Plane runs off Cleveland airport runway.

That was close.

Friday

2007-02-17T07:04:00.000Z

Pretty productive day today; $15 got me a good lunch, three newspapers, a medium coffee, a line on a cell phone, and a job. Not bad.

Walked into my old Caribou Coffee shop, ordered a coffee, and noticed one of the girls I'd worked with before going to Japan. She got excited, and said "Oh cool! You're back! It would be cool if you could work here again!" to which I replied, "Yes. Yes it would." So they called Andy, the manager I worked with last, told him I was back in town and looking for a job, and he said what I think amounts to I could start a week from Monday. Before I even applied. Nice.

Bonus: one of the newspapers I picked up was the Onion. Good times.

Though I must say, working at a coffee shop and starting sometime before sanity A.M. will be a rude awakening from what has been a month-long, three-nation holiday. Boo to that.

Travel Notes

2007-02-16T02:12:00.000Z

13 February 2007

Travel day. Started last night with a decision that I couldn’t realistically spend another seven days in a cat-infested house, and there was a huge winter storm on the way. It was decided that I should take off today and try to make it to Minneapolis before the storm hit.

I didn’t.

Made it to Syracuse by 3:30 in plenty of time for my 5:30 flight, checked in, was switched from Syracuse-Atlanta to Syracuse-Cincinnati (despite the fact I specifically picked the flight to Atlanta to miss the huge, mid-country storm), and was subjected to the most thorough searches I’ve ever experienced. Seriously, I’ve been on three flights, halfway around the world, and I’ve only been searched in Syracuse. Iain, if I discover that the cavity search was your idea…I shudder to think what reprisals will be necessary. My sympathies go out to the poor sap who had to search my belongings for contraband; I’m moving back to Minnesota and I’ve got the weirdest collection of stuff crammed into two bags and two coats. Eventually got cleared through security. Went to the gate to wait, watched the screen change my flight from ‘On Time’ to ‘Cancelled’, then back to ‘On Time’ again. Celebrated with a gin and tonic at the bar. Went back to sit down and read more Hemingway, and was reading when it was announced that the flight was delayed till 8:10. Waited in line to get exchanged, watched a two-year-old eat raw Cup Noodle, got to the counter, and got put on a different flight on a different airline to a different city. It was decided that I could fly into Cleveland – instead of to Cincinnati – then to Minneapolis, and everything would be fine. Was about the last person on the plane to Cleveland, got off the ground in clear weather, watched ice crystals spark by the window illuminated by the flashing wing lights, and pondered what a strange thing it was to be crammed in a metal tube and shot through the sky. Skidded into Cleveland in what was one of the most balls-out exciting landings of all time. The cabin attendant welcomed us to Cleveland, which looked like a moonscape if the moon was under a winter storm warning with 50-mile-an-hour winds.

Got to my connecting gate to Minneapolis, called my mom – who was thrilled I wasn’t in Syracuse – and got more change to call future-roommate Lindsey about the new arrival time. As I was leaving a message to tell her that I’d be early, the announcement came through that my flight was cancelled and we’d need to collect our luggage. Bloody fucking hot damn. Told Lindsey’s voicemail I’d call her back when I figured out what was going on, picked up my ridiculously heavy bags, and went looking for answers. Waited in umpteenth line of the day to be told I was already being booked onto a flight at 7:20 the next morning, and that I’d need to book a hotel for the night. Like hell. The woman cleared my luggage to be picked up before I could say no, so I went to the baggage area to get my suitcase. Decided that if Continental (not Delta, my original airline) wasn’t going to set me up at the Ritz, I would crash out in the baggage claim. Talked to Lindsey’s voicemail again, told her I would meet her in Minneapolis tomorrow, and went and sat down.

It’s now 10:45, and I’m getting ready to call it a day. What a wonderful world.

Currently listening to: “We’re So Far Away” by Mae.

14 February 2007 – Cleveland, Ohio, is the home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Among other things.

That’s how you sing Amazing Grace. This is not the way I thought I’d spend Valentines Day. One year ago tonight I met Joanna Horton at a belated housewarming/not-Valentines Day party at our flat. Today I am sitting in the Cleveland airport, which is shut, making it little more than a menagerie for stranded travelers. It’s good to watch people; it makes you more aware of humanity. Especially when the weather’s bad. The Chestertonian adage is true: good conversations are started by the weather, for we are all equal in the sight of God and the weather. Mixed in with us human baggage are a half-dozen sparrows that flew in from somewhere (insert Northwest joke here), and eyed me while I ate my lemon-poppy seed muffin. Note to self: eating too many of these may cause me to fail drug tests.

The flight, which last night was scheduled to leave at 7:20 this morning, was delayed semi-indefinitely around 7, with the airport closing around 7:30. The promised weather updates at 7:45 and 8:15 still have yet to be announced at 9, though a simple look out the 30-foot windows at the blowing whiteness is indication enough of what’s going on. Watching the ground crew spin their wheels futilely trying to back the plane away from the gate also gave some indication of why we’re not in the air. Luckily, there are plenty of electrical outlets, so I can camp out outside the men’s room and type.

9:15. Must go see if there are currency exchange stands and get some cash. My bank card has decided it doesn’t like my PIN. I’ve never gotten money out with it before; I have no idea what the new/original PIN is. Oh well, I have 60,000 yen in my pocket which should get me at least another cup of coffee at Starbucks. Now I just need to find a Traveldex. It’s still pure white outside, and they’re promising us an update at 10:30. Bliss.

15 February

I'm back in Minnesota, safe and sound. Updates to come.

Bailin'

2007-02-13T04:51:00.000Z

Well, the stay in NY looks like it's going to be shortened a bit. My cat allergies have been pretty severe, so I've booked a ticket to Minneapolis for tomorrow. Not that that's not risky in itself: weather forecasters nationwide are predicting a big snow storm across the middle of the country.

Quite a toss-up: possibly get stranded in an airport somewhere (but be able to breathe), or possibly come down with pneumonia (but spend some more time with the family).

Anyway, God-willing, I will be in Minneapolis tomorrow night, breathing, and in one piece. Hope to see you there!

Peace and snowballs,
T--> ny

Currently listening to:
"Get Me Away From Here I'm Dying" by Belle & Sebastian.

Photos from the U.K.

2007-02-10T03:01:00.000Z

Latest photos from the trip around the U.K.: Cambridge, London, Durham, Edinburgh, York, and back to St. Neots. We went to Leeds and Sheffield too, but don't have any pictures. I am the amateur.

*updated: click on the photos for a larger view*

Jo's old school: Hinchingbrooke Academy, founded 8 years before Europeans settled in America. Cambridgeshire.

No, not Minas Tirith. It's the Chapel at Trinity College, Cambridge.

The Backs (of Trinity College), Cambridge.

Jo in Cambridge.

The Bridge of Sighs, Cambridge.

Big Ben, London.

Westminster Abby, London.

Jo looking into the courtyard at Durham Cathederal, Durham.

Edinburgh Castle, Edinburgh.

View from Edinburgh Castle.

St. Margaret's Chapel, Edinburgh Castle. Built in the 12 Century!

York Minster, York.

Holy Trinity Church, York. Built in the 14th Century.

Jo, and a "traditional" meal: fish and chips.

On Westminster Abby, London.

And back again.

2007-02-08T18:27:00.000Z

Current location: the Boon computer lab at Nyack College, in balmy Nyack, New York, long stone's throw from the Hudson.

Well, it's been done: I have now successfully circumnavigated the globe. Well, kinda. I didn't actually do any of the navigating, but y'know. Arrived last night at Newark's Liberity (And Justice For Some) International Airport, making my travels global. Fun.

Or not so fun; I had to leave my wonderful girlfriend at London-Heathrow as airport staff said she couldn't be classified as a carry-on, and I'd have to check her. I love her too much to bring her to America in the belly of an Airbus. BUT, she will be coming State-side in a fully pressurized cabin this July, and I seriously can't wait. The Grand Tour will follow, so get your tickets early.

(Okay, so it isn't a mawkish couple picture, but it's still pretty cool: Jo in Edinburgh Castle.)

The little brother and his girl came to pick me up last night 11-ish local (god-awful GMT), and we rolled on campus sometime after 1. My body told me that 9am was sometime in the afternoon in London-town, so I rolled out of bed and eventually found myself in a deserted international cafe in Nyack with a big cuppa joe and three danishes for under 1 pound 20. I am amazed by this phenomenon. May pop into the City tomorrow before heading up to the 'rentals' in the evening, but there are no definites yet. The idea of seeing Tokyo, London, AND New York within six weeks of each other is truly intriguing, if not pocketbook-emptying.

Oh yeah, and stay tuned here for End-of-Japan, U.K. tour, and Returning-Home stories, for there will be plenty. The Japan blog will still be updated with stories I haven't finished yet or was too lazy to start but should, so take a peek at that every now and again. Photos will hopefully be uploaded to the blog and Flickr in the near future as time, availability, and cat-tolerance allows.

As for me, I'm off to locate some coffee and a tuned body-clock.

Peace,
T--> ny

Seasonals

2006-12-28T14:51:00.000Z

Merry Belated Christmas / Happy Early New Year from Thom Abroad!

Christmas Eve/Christmas Day/Boxing Day were all great, so check them out here! Hope that all your days are bright, all your New Year's Eves are dark, and this year will be better than the last.

New Year's resolution: less cliches. We'll see. Gambatte.

T -->

Travels

2006-12-18T14:06:00.000Z

Things are in the works. Got tickets to England and a place to live in Minneapolis. Now all I gotta do is find a way in between. Cool.

In other, strange news, it has been discovered that Rob and I (and Jo) are leaving on same day: 23 January. Rob and I arrived in Osaka the same day last year, and we've been roommates at Freebell since this January...exactly one year before we leave. Weird.

We will have been in Japan one year, seven months, and two weeks. Exactly.

Not bad.

I came to Japan with two heavy suitcases and backpack; I'll be leaving Japan with one slightly lighter heavy suitcase, a backpack, and an English sweetheart.

Not bad at all.

Thom Abroad

2006-09-30T11:10:00.000+01:00

Hello, and welcome to part two of my world travels blog. This blog won't be very operational until sometime in early 2007, when I will - hopefully - be setting off for many more wild and crazy adventures. Destination: Europe.

Until then, please feel free to check out my current blog: Thom In Japan.

Gambatte!
Thom