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Less ducks, more mad shouty people

January 27, 2001

 

Ahhhhhh. It's SO nice to be home! I love this city!! I don't know where to start enjoying being in a real urban center again. I've torn out several reviews of performances and art exhibitions from the newspaper, which I'd be into seeing; a friend of mine has tickets to a rehearsal of the symphony she's invited me to; and I have a long list of people I've promised to call upon my return here, to go play with. I need to get out and see my city!

 

I got home around 7pm Thursday. Around 7:30, my grocery delivery from Webvan arrived, which I ordered online from England, to bring me all the staple items and goodies I'll need to enjoy my stay at Hotel Victorian (aka the SF house).

 

At 8:00 Stefanie showed up, looking gorgeous and ready for action as usual! We had lots of catching up to do, until around 8:30 Gina showed up, slightly drunk and boisterous, with a hilariously short attention span.

 

The three of us went out for an Indian feast, until I crapped out around 11. Still, within my first 2 hours back here I got in a proper night out with the girls. And I settled into my own soft, delicious, luxurious bed... and slept and slept, and dreamt of Ashley back in Cambridge. Plus I think he called and woke me up briefly -- I have snippets of a loopy, disorganized conversation in my memory banks.

 

When I woke up Friday morning, it was already the end of the workday in England; and I spent most of the morning online and on the phone, getting updated on the status of a website I'm sort of art directing, over the shoulders of a perfectly good team of designers who probably think I'm just a giant nuisance.

 

In the afternoon I headed into Union Square -- first to have my dentist refill a cavity that's been bugging me; then to shop! Shopping came up short, but hell, at least I got have my teeth drilled, right? That evening my favorite Professional Dominatrix came and spent the evening helping me re-bleach my roots and redye my hair. That woman is mistress of girltalk as much as she is of any dungeon. She's giving me a makeover next week.

 

Then, it arrived: The Mail. A huge bin, hand-delivered by our patient, loving mailman who has called me and Ashley by name since our first week in this house nearly four years ago. Guess what I got? Jury summons! Blech. That's what I'll be doing this Monday, apparently. The next thing to arrive will be Ashley, quick in my tracks, a week later (and only 2 days before I head back over the pond).

 

I mentioned last entry that we were in NYC over New Year's. Also we stayed for weeks in hotels in Cambridge before we got our apartment there; and we stayed in a rather posh historic hotel over Christmas, up in Coventry, to attend a big Christmas party. So we've seen a lot of hotel rooms in the last month. Here's something: why do hotels always use white linens and towels? Have I mentioned I have bright red-dyed hair? I have a theory that Ashley is wanted in two or three countries for suspected murder, as he's now checked out of a load of hotels (often without me, having already gone ahead) which were found to have bloody red stains and splatters all over the pillows and towels. The maids are probably mortified the first morning they come to clean, if they've never seen us.

 

Tonight I'm headed out to Ocean Beach for a big ritual monthly bonfire, with some friends... then off to a bar where two of my other friends will be bartending, and a few others will be there bouncing their heads to some fine drum'n'bass. Tomorrow I'm hoping to catch a matinee performance of the Vagina Monologues with my brother. Monday is jury duty (the fly in my Urban ointment). Wednesday morning is the symphony, then makeover by dominatrix friend; Friday I fly to LA for a weekend with my Mom, where I'll also see the sparking (and nice smelling!) Amber. I expect lots more stuff in between.

 

Then soon enough, they pack me into a 747-400 kicking and screaming, back to the UK, where I'm not going to survive much longer if I don't expand outside the stone confines of my little college town and find a way to make it into the mishmash of strange and wonderful activities I've grown to need... and realize now how I took for granted.

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