For seven years, I journalled here.

Now I've a new one. Let's see where it goes.

Y'know ... it takes a special kind of mind to finish up a journal entry 3 years after you started it.

(I'll give you a moment to let that sink in.)

You have to be obsessive enough to keep the thing around, in the deeply-held belief that yes you WILL actually get around to finishing that someday ... while still being enough of a procrastinator to solidly NOT do so.

FOR THREE YEARS.

So you'll understand that it's even more ludicrous when it takes you FOUR.

Yes.

Well.

Ahem.

So: Four years ago - some months after William & I had just moved into our new apartment on Sunnyside - Sam, Heather, Tish, BJ, and myself decided to take a trip....

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9.19am, Sunday, October 5

This is the second day of the trip.

We left yesterday morning shortly before 10am - Sam, Tish, Heather & myself. Many bags were brought, and I had no idea how we would get it all packed into the car. I brought one duffel bag of Essentials & one backpack of Fun. Heather brought A Lot. She said she tried to pare down, and if so that's kinda scary.

We left the city with astonishing ease, nabbing breakfast and coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. As intended, I got up not too early and packed my bags in a very small amount of time. The longest time was spent deciding what CDs to bring along for the road trip.

Eufff. Looking at what I've written I can see that my chronology is suffering. My bleeding-eyes lack of sleep. Showing the holes in my mind where things don't connect as well.

Mrfff.

(Gahhh. Heather just futzed with my nose and caused an unpleasant sneezing fit. If she weren't driving I would so take her down right now. I'm still considering it.)

Since I was driving first, I kicked off the music with Rickie Lee Jones's Flying Cowboys. I had just woken up and showered an hour previous, after all. Wasn't quite ready for anything too Rock first thing in the morning.

The drive down 55 South went quickly enough. We switched out drivers a couple of times, and people had brought several musical mixes. The conversation was fun and goofy and light, and we were on our way.

BJ is currently reading aloud from some strange evangelical pamphlet that - seriously - seems to compare Jesus to Pokemon. It reminds me of a semi truck we passed belonging to Covenant Transportation, whose back end proclaimed "IT IS A CHILD NOT A CHOICE". It annoyed me and I wanted to ram it.

Around 3pm we reached Heather's hometown of Moro, which Heather insists is a real town despite its ladybug-size. Her home is cool, as are her mom and dad. They have four cats - only three of which were actually visible - and her parents fed us all a wonderful midday feast while her father proudly showed off various swords.

We had a couple more stops before getting on the road again, in the neighboring (and slightly more validly-sized) town of Edwardsville. Heather drove by the house she gave up to stay in Chicago with us, and after seeing it we questioned the wisdom of her trade-off. We also picked up coffee in a neat cafe entitled Sacred Grounds, which caused us to contemplate (in a fantasy-filled, never-gonna-happen sorta way) opening a comic book / used book / music / coffee shop, with each of us heading up one of those. We brainstormed several interesting and hopefully witty names, and at present the ideas have evolved to Yellowed Leaves & Vinyl Days. Finally, we visited Heather's longtime friend Elise; Heather trounced Sam soundly in a game of ping-pong, and we all had great kicks out of playing with Elise's six-year-old girl, and making her laugh at little kid games.

We hit a snag on 270W early in the evening, as construction halted traffic for a bit. It was decided to avoid St. Louis proper, partially to avoid city traffic and partially to spare me annoying memories. Still, one of the bridges we drove over when crossing the Mississippi River was vividly familiar - I'd apparently crossed it a couple of times when visiting Elyssa from '96 - '98.

What strange, strange turns my life has taken at times.

*

9.48am, Monday, October 6

In reviewing the previous entry, I notice two things. First, as is usual, my focusing on details has run away with me, as I expand and expound upon every little thing I can remember. If I continue at this pace, it will take till Friday to record up to Monday. I'll see what I can do to curtail that.

Secondly, there are certain important details that I completely forgot - such as the fact that we left my car at Heather's parent's house, and borrowed their minivan for the trip. The journey from Chicago to St. Louis in my car was cramped enough, and there was no way we could fit another rider as well as his baggage.

We arrived at BJ's house in Kansas around 11.30pm Saturday night. Several others were there - BJ's roommate Jeff, another Jeff, Ryan (whom I didn't recognize for the first several minutes, oddly enough), and the previously-mentioned but never-met Kendra - and we hung around, both inside and outside, before leaving shortly after midnight. Much rearranging of the van's internals was needed before we could squish BJ in as well - but by gum, we did it.

...I slept a couple of hours, awakening groggy at a rest stop...

Shortly after 2am, I took the wheel. I put on the new Hamell on Trial CD, Tough Love, followed by my Fatboy Slim compilation and Counting Crows' This Desert Life. BJ rode shotgun during these wee hours of the morning, and the names of the towns we passed incorporated themselves into our goofy and increasingly surreal jokings. We discovered, for instance, the tale of the mighty Gorham of the Mountains (whose form we were surprised to ascertain when we passed a "dam statue of a dam duck"), and his quest to slay the fearsome Kanorado at the Cathedral of the Plain at the behest of the fair priestess Victoria. There was also something about Farmer Smith's cannibalistic cows being on The Fritz and thusly needing a repairman, but I can't quite recall the details.

I was disappointed to find that there was still no hint of dawn about 6am, sure sign that summer was well and truly drawing to a close. Granted, the fact that we were gradually nearing a time zone change had something to do with it as well - despite all my driving, it was effectively only 5am, something I found faintly discouraging.

*

As my coffee had worn off some time previously, someone else took the wheel and I napped in the back, wrapping some long stretch of cloth around my head to block out the stereo.

...Some hours later I came to at a truck stop. I was informed that we had crossed into Colorado, and thus BJ and I had both passed by the fearsome Kanorado completely unawares. There was a restaurant connected to the truck stop, and it was decided that we'd have breakfast there before continuing on our journey.

Upon entering the restaurant, I had a Violently Visceral reaction. I immediately wanted to leave and flee in the other direction.

Being on a long road trip, I'd not been eating very healthy or wise thus far, and felt physically gross - not nauseous, but greasy and oily and in dire need of a shower. The sparse and interrupted sleep only added to it: my eyes were burning (I elected to wear my sunglasses into the restaurant), and my mind was fuzzy and stupid. But, you know, I felt I could deal with a small family restaurant kind of establishment - easy lighting, quiet, tucked away in some corner booth.

The restaurant was Entirely Not That.

It looked to me as if 30 tables were crammed into 30 square feet of space. Almost every table was occupied, and the lights were White and Bright. The clientele was exclusively white-haired elderlies, or truckers, or country folk, and my recently-awakened mind, paranoid, suddenly felt as if all eyes were staring at me - long-haired, disheveled, and gross - and wanted to run.

"We could just keep going," I quietly suggested, but either no one heard me or took the suggestion seriously - quite rightly, I'm sure. One person's primal insecurities should never drag down the rest of the group.

So we sat, and were waited on by friendly folk, and Tish & Heather greatly enjoyed people-watching the odd characters around us. I had simply juice and fruit salad and hash browns, to the astonishment of everyone else, tho I did try a bit of cheese omelet and biscuits & gravy.

The truck stop was definitely an odd mixture of traditional old-time and very high-tech. BJ couldn't get over the fact that they had Wi-Fi, and various signs advertised the different gadgets one could buy at their Internet store, such as a television or the Silmarion on CD for $39.99.

And then we were on our way once more.

*

7.23am, Tuesday, October 7

We next visited with Heather's brother and his wife in Littleton, two very nice people who gave us good food and pleasurable conversation. After hanging out for a short while, we journeyed onwards.

Several of the last few times that I've driven into the mountains, it has been at night. As a result, it was nice to do so during the daylight and see our surroundings change as we progressed, from the fuzzy foothills to the wooded slopes and craggen rock faces.

We reached the condo in Silverthorne almost exactly at 2pm, unpacked the car - and finally, thankfully collapsed. Over the next several hours, various members of our party would nap, watch the football game, shower, and just relax. After the trek we'd made in just over a day, we needed and deserved it.

At 5pm, everyone left to go find a sports bar - except for me.

The Cubs were in the final game of the playoffs, so Sam was a bundle of nervous energy, and Tish was excited as well. BJ, on the other hand, wanted to watch the Women's World Cup Soccer games, and Heather just wanted to go where the action was. I, however, did not feel so well.

Although the shower had helped rejuvenate somewhat, I still had that bleeding / burning eyes sensation of too little sleep - and now a sore throat had entered the mix. And while I had been, with Sam's coaching and to my surprise, gradually becoming a baseball and specifically a Cubs fan ... sitting in a smoke-filled bar for several hours and swigging alcohol seemed like neither an appealing nor wise idea. Hell, it may have just been a sore throat due to too little sleep - but what if it was the start of something worse?

(As an aside, each of these last two mornings I have woken up with that same sore throat - and which has, within an hour or two, disappeared. I now believe that it's something caused by the mountains-high difference in oxygen, perhaps, or the dryness of the air ... and, furthermore, I now seem to recall encountering it on previous trips.)

So everyone, regretfully, reluctantly, went out without me. I watched them drive away...

...and five minutes later regretted it entirely. So I might feel crappy out at a bar with friends. Wasn't that better than sitting at home feeling crappy by myself? Unfortunately, both Heather's & BJ's phones were crapped out, so I couldn't even call them to change my mind. I felt sad, lonely, and pathetic.

Depressed and unable to think of anything good to do, I went to bed. Slept for a few hours - still badly needed, at that point - then got up in somewhat better spirits (after all, What's Done Is Done), read some comics, and tuned in to the end of the game. Even tho it was the top of the 9th and the Cubs were winning 5-1, that final inning alone seemed one hell of an exciting game. It's so strange - me having my heart quicked by a sports game? How odd.

Before too long, everyone came back from the bar and much celebratory fun was had. Tish and Heather put on some music and staged an impromptu dance party, and much fun commenced. Eventually we all collapsed from happy exhaustion, and went to bed.

*

midday, Wednesday, October 8

After the physical workouts of the past two days, we opted to take it easy today. We left around 11am and drove to the neighboring town of Dillon, there to park next to Dillon Lake. After looking for a short while, we came upon a series of rocky inlets that we claimed for our own.

As I write this, Sam & Heather & BJ are offering up "Sounds of Silence", while Tish, seated slightly apart, reads from her newly-bought book of poetry and writes in a bound journal. A few minutes ago I was adding to the music as well - improvising my lack of drum, forgotten at the condo, by beating on the cooler - and now I write.

*

On Monday, we went on our first hike. We chose the South Park Trail, outside of Georgetown. It started at around 11,000 ft and had an elevation gain of about 750 ft over 2.7 miles, coming upon the Square-Top Lakes in the Guanella Pass.

The scenery was beautiful, and not quite what I'm used to. Most mountain hiking that I've done has been of the wooded variety; this, on the other hand, ascended the mountain on an open tundra, the surrounding countryside awesome and wide and visible to the horizon and peaks. The early autumn brush which clung to the trail in clumps had a burnt-orange / blue-gray hue to it, and the clear sky and warm wind was the most beautifully perfect weather we could have asked for.

The hike itself, however, wasn't nearly as accommodating. The trail book we'd snagged it from pegged the difficulty as only a Moderate - but we quickly learned that the level of challenge arose from the steepness of the climb and the high elevation. We were all in various degrees of in- and out-of-shape - myself being the unhealthiest specimen, I'm sure - and boy howdy, did we feel it! Most discouraging was how quickly we would tire out again after resting for 5 or 10, but since we had no schedule to meet we didn't worry overmuch.

*

11.59am, Thursday, October 9

When we returned to the van after our hike on Monday, we were all exhausted and tired and sore. We wished to get back to the condo and collapse, but first we stopped at a cafe and used bookstore by the name of Espresso & Books, located in Georgetown, which we had first noticed on our way out that morning.

It was a small shop, but warm and friendly, and the proprietor seemed incredibly knowledgable about any of her books which we asked. I browsed casually, not expecting to find much; although there are always out-of-print items I'm looking for, the advent of eBay has taken a lot of the franticness & frustration out of the search. However, from across the room I saw a copy of Through the Looking Glass poking up from around its neighbors; intrigued, I picked it up - and my jaw dropped at the additional credit on the cover: "Illustrated by Ralph Steadman".

I stood in shock. I love Lewis Carroll, particularly the Alice books, and own multiple versions of them. However, while I have several editions illustrated by particularly noteworthies, I'd had no idea that one of my favorite artists had done them! (The back of the book told that he had illustrated a version of the first Alice book as well.)

To my chagrin, I had left my wallet at the condo.
To my delight, BJ loaned me the dough till we got back.

Everyone got good books and tasty beverages, and we returned home. We had an enjoyable dinner of spaghetti & garlic bread, and finished off the evening with several hours' worth of therapeutic group rubbing & relaxing massage.

*

On Tuesday we set out for another trail. Still feeling the effects of the day before, we opted for something less strenuous, and thus chose the Cross Creek Trail, south of the town of Minturn (or, as BJ would have it, "the Mystical Minturn") in the Holy Cross Wilderness. It was rated as an Easy instead of a Moderate, due mainly to it being slightly shorter - 4.4 miles round-trip instead of 5.4 - and a significantly lower starting elevation of 8500 ft, with a height gain of only 500 ft. All of these things sounded just peachy to us.

It was also a wooded trail, unlike the tundra of the day before. As we began, we made our way through a large cove of aspens, all of them having shed their leaves. Entering this vista of tall, skinny, bare-white trees extending for far, far around us, one almost got the sense of a phalanx of stern, stark sentries watching over the entrance to the forest, ensuring good behavior with nothing but their grim watch.

The trail wound up and around, occasionally offering a view of the valley below us. As we progressed, the sound of moving water to our right grew louder and closer, and when a path forked off to the right and down, I pondered for a second before taking it. In short order we were at the bank of the flowing creek, and we lunched and played upon it for the next hour - exploring up and down it, crossing it via rocks and then discovering an alternate route was needed for the return, etc. This was indicative, in fact, of our hike for most of the day - unlike Monday, we took this trail slow and easy, stopping as often and as long as we liked, and taking more note of our surroundings.

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...and this, of course, is why you shouldn't put off finishing things over FOUR YEARS after you start them. I was paper-journalling what I could over the course of the trip, and only got through detailling the first half (barely). I sincerely meant to finish it up when we got back into town. I sincerely didn't.

Obviously, at this point, I don't remember much of the trip that took place after Wednesday October 8, 2003. Just flashes and brief images here and there. One exploratory hike that featured an immense rock outcropping overlooking the scene below. A particularly fascinating and illuminating game of "Loaded Questions" played back at the condo one night. Another night at another sports bar for one of the other games, as the Cubs got nearer and nearer; me genuinely enjoying the game and joking with Sam about the devil-goatee on some player. And after that, it all kind of blurs.

Obviously, on the way back we would have dropped off BJ first, and we dropped off Heather at her parents' house for a day or two, and she'd drive back in her new car. I remember Tish driving out of Colorado, myself in the passenger seat, everyone else asleep at some innately intimate hour like 4am.

Obviously, after our return everything began to change in pretty big ways - gradually, then moreso, for everyone. Just a week or two later, really.

And obviously, or not, at this point it seems like something out of a dream that happened to other people. It was, after all, nearly half a decade ago.

I'm pretty sure BJ has some digital photos somewhere. One of these days maybe he'll post them for all the world to see.

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I remember one of the questions someone read off the card for "Loaded Questions" was the ubiquitous "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?" I gently teased Sam about the sappy nature of his answer, but I loved it. I don't recall it exactly, but it was along the lines of sitting around with beloved friends, playing a game, going hiking. Implying a ten-year anniversary trip for us.

Obviously, given that we're halfway through that time, I don't think any of us could have foreseen where we might possibly end up in 10 years time. But I don't think that's a bad thing, really.

Because even when you don't end up exactly where you thought ... you can still find yourself somewhere pretty amazing instead.

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Next up: SAILING!

Natalie mentions that The Prince Charles Cinema once had to throw a guy out for having a wank during a film. Oddly enough, it was a documentary about the Labour Party.

One is tempted to ask if he was truly a leftie.

Yes, it's another food post. What have I been putting in my mouth? Many fun and tasty things:

GINGER BEER

It's funny, but this might be one of the things that I'll miss most once I'm back in the States. Oh, it's not that you can't find Ginger Beer at all in the US, but it's not ubiquitous. You've gotta search for it. And if you find it (usually in the tiny "fancy beverages" section of a large grocery chain, if that), it's fairly expensive.

And I'm not talking about ginger ale. That thing called Ginger Ale (Seagram's, Canada Dry, etc) is a totally lame carbonated drink that almost kinda resembles the memory of ginger. If you swish it around your mouth a couple times and think really hard, you might taste the ginger.

Me, I like ginger beer with a bite. I like ginger beer that burns the throat going down. Which Old Jamaican Ginger Beer truly does (and at only 50p per can!). The label says "with Fiery Jamaican Root Ginger", and they ain't joking around.

But the best part is the ubiquity. I don't have to go searching for it; it's as widespread as Coke or Pepsi. All the grocery stores have it, and 90% of the convenience stores too. That, to me, is amazing.

PORK PIES

I'm familiar with the hat, of course, and knew deep down that it had to get its name from some long-ago food product. Consider me surprised to find out that long-ago nibbler is still being ate. Mass-marketed in shrink-wrapped packages, in fact.

It's like this: Imagine something that looks like a pot pie, but smaller - about the size of your fist. Now, instead of the insides being a stew-like medley, it's a uniform pork-mixture filling. And, oh yeah - you eat it cold.

You WHAT? I wondered in alarm. You eat it COLD?

I paused, considered, and shrugged. Then took a bite of this piggy-filled pot pie ... thing.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

......Holy fucking crap, that's delicious.

SCOTCH EGGS

First heard of this while watching the British Office over a year ago. There was this round thing Keith was eating, and in the commentary track the creators referred to it as a Scotch egg.

Curious, I pulled up the Wikipedia entry. And instantly slavered.

Once again, it's a pork-like mixture. But this time, it's been breaded and fried, and it's hollow inside. And what does it contain? Why, a hard-boiled egg.

WTF???

Seriously, man. How does somebody come up with something that ... that ... weird?!

And the UK seems to have some strange affection for bready or breaded meat-products that you eat cold, because this too is designed to be eaten straight out of the fridge. And once again, it's AWESOME. I feel immense sorrow for my vegetarian and Jewish friends who will never know the wonders of these two terribly tasty, terribly bad-for-you foodstuffs.

Even better is that Scotch eggs and pork pies are also available at many tiny markets and convenience stores. For just over a pound. If I'm feeling peckish, I can stop in, hand over less than two quid, and be snacking in minutes.

In fact, I think the danger is that these items are TOO tasty and TOO available. For being the fried delights that they are.

BACON BUTTIE

Whilst in the Troubadour Cafe, I saw on the menu a listing for a "bacon buttie". I like the thought of befriending my food before I eat it ("Hiya, buddy!"), but thought I should inquire anyhow. I was told it was two strips of bacon on a buttered bap; when I looked confused, he clarified "bap" to be a hamburger bun.

So it's two strips of bacon on a buttered & toasted hamburger bun.

That's it?

That's it.

So it's kind of like a bacon cheeseburger, but without the cheese. Or the burger. Um. Okay, that sounds weird ... but I'll try it. Hell, mostly because it sounds weird. I'm always game for trying something that sounds inexplicable and/or disgusting. Preconceptions aside, you'll never know for sure until you try, and I've found a lot of tasty dishes that way.

Um. Wow. You wouldn't expect something that basic and that stripped-down to be that good. But it is.

And on the subject of trying that which sounds inexplicable and/or disgusting...

SAUSAGE IN BATTER

I shouldn't be including this because I don't plan on ordering it again. Ever. Mostly because I'd like to see my next birthday.

I was in a kebab shop^*, about to order something else, when I saw a listing for "sausage in batter". I looked at it in a mixture of fascination and horror, because that COULDN'T be what it sounds like, could it? I had to find out. I had to order it.

And, yes. Yes it is. They take a long thick sausage, roll it in batter, and DEEP FRY THE FUCKER. Not even served in a bun; they're beyond any pretensions that what you're about to eat is something like actual food.

I suppose it tasted indulgently good at first. In the way that greasy french fries taste good. Although taken to such an extreme that for the analogy to hold, you'd have to take the french fry, roll it in batter again, fry it up again ... and then let it soak in the grease trap for an hour. And maybe even extract the potato.

It was a gruesomely fascinating, slightly tasty, and mostly gross experience that I never care to repeat. Because I think my arteries would go into convulsive instantaneous shock.

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^* Kebab shops. Everywhere. On practically every single goddamn city block. Often multiple kebab shops on the same block. Sometimes right next door to each other. Chad calls them "the Mexican food of the UK". Although actual Mexican food in the UK isn't to be trusted, according to him, as he tells the story of ordering a burrito once and finding broccoli inside. From the incredulity in his voice, it's clear he felt unaccountably betrayed.

So, currently am in Hounslow - neighborhood out near Heathrow. VERY near Heathrow in fact; planes taking off overhead pretty damn loud. Seems alright, but I miss Islington; I do wish that neighborhood were within my price range. Sigh.

Still holding out for that AWESOME place in Hackney. We'll see. In the meantime, got more places to call up today. This flat-seeking thing is HARD!

Went to a car boot in the neighborhood yesterday. In this context, "car boot" means "flea market". Nothing bought, but neat to browse. Also, there's hardly a white person to be found in this neighborhood. It's funny - I can't quite tell if I'm light enough to be in the minority, or dark enough to fit in. :)

Staying with a guy from Glasgow named Chris. Very nice bloke, very friendly, very generous, and a wonderfully attentive host. I feel very lucky. Frustratingly, he speaks VERY fast, VERY soft (a strange combo already), and with an INCREDIBLY thick Glaswegian accent. I feel bad with how often I have to ask him to repeat something - often two or three times - but with all those factors, it's almost like he's speaking a different language. Which pretty well hampers most attempts at conversation. After a couple of days, however, I've started to tune into his words and speaking style a little bit more, so that's good.

Also worth pointing out: All the streets in this neighborhood are named after rodents. Marmot Road, Chinchilla Drive, Squirrel Close, Ermine Close, Raccoon Way, Badger Close, Oppossum Way, Sable Close ... and the street Chris lives on, Musquash Way. That's right: MUSQUASH. You know I couldn't be making this up.

By the way - no shower here either. Not even an impossibly-awkward-to-use shower attachment like Chad & Michelle have. Just a bath. Man - never in a million years would I have guessed showers vs. baths to be one of the cultural differences between the US and the UK.

Back in the US, I always operated with the understanding that a bath was fine and relaxing, but afterward you still had to use the shower to rinse yourself off (because otherwise you're just splashing back on you the bathwater you've dirtied up). I don't know if it's a sign of hygienic obsession in the US, or more laidback attitudes towards bodies in general over here (it's refreshing to realize how much more comfortable the general population is with the topic of sex). Either way - when you got no choice, you quickly learn to cope.

This Wednesday, weather willing, Michelle & I are seeing The Merchant of Venice at The Globe. I'm really looking forward to it.

This past Tuesday we went to the UCL Bloombsbury Theatre to see Neil Gaiman speaking with Susannah Clarke about her new book, The Ladies of Grace Adieu. It was to be an evening full of surprises.

Originally, only Michelle & I were going. But mere hours after she'd bought the tickets, I got an e-mail saying that I'd won free admission! I had entered the drawing via e-mail a few days earlier, but assumed I hadn't won because, c'mon - what are the chances? And given that I was only being contacted the day before, it seemed a right guess that they hadn't sold as many tickets as they had planned on, and just wanted to fill some extra seats. So Chad and their friend Dave came as well.

We were all coming to the theatre separately, however, and on the way there I got lost. (At least twice.) By the time I found it, the time was already 10 minutes past. Rushed inside and went up to the ticket sellers, hoping that my free tickets hadn't already been given to someone else. They weren't, and I was given tickets, as well as a bag containing a "bonus gift". Not having the time to inspect whatever promotional material they might be handing me, I found my way into the theatre and sat somewhere far in the back. Couldn't find my people, but it was alright. Susannah Clarke was just beginning to read one of the stories from her book.

And then, halfway through a sentence, her microphone went out. There was a bit of flusterment as the sound crew fiddled with knobs, and she inquired if there was some technical difficulty. A moment later one of the event coordinators ran up to say that there was a technical problem - in that a fire alarm had gone off in the building. Everyone kindly queue outside in an orderly fashion.

All the audience then stood outside in the cold for about 45 minutes while the fire department came and sorted it out. (Neil would later tell us it was a glitch in the alarm system, and that he was somewhat startled when told it was apparently due to the nanotech laboratory next door.) By poking around I found the rest of my party gathered across the street, and we laughed about the occurrence.

It was then that I thought to check the bag I'd been given ... and found that it contained a copy of the new book! I was a bit stunned. So ... they weren't just handing out tickets to whomever entered the drawing? Michelle confirmed for me: She'd seen the list of winners inside, and I was only one of 5. Hot damn!

She also told me what I'd missed in the first ten minutes: General introductions, and an announcement that Susannah Clarke was currently suffering a bit of Carpal Tunnel, and thus wouldn't be able to sign books after the event. A bit disappointing, but understandable. And hey - let's not forget I've just gotten a free book!

When I could tell that they were nearly finished sorting the problem, I crossed the street so as to try for a better seat once we were let back in. (Successfully, too. I went from sitting way in the back, to sitting second row center. The whole thing worked quite nicely in my favor!) When it was announced that we could head back inside, a man in a black leather jacket to my left straightened up and offered an unused, still-hot coffee to anyone who would like it. I wasn't quite quick enough on the draw, and so someone else got a free coffee from Neil Gaiman. Turns out I'd been standing five feet from he & Susannah Clarke for the past ten minutes!

It was an entirely enjoyable event. Gaiman and Clarke were both extremely funny, and extremely insightful; during the Q&A segment I wanted to ask about their thoughts on the differences between short stories and novels, but someone else happily asked it for me. (Apparently there's an issue of Interzone magazine in which they each contributed an essay on such.) I learned to my delight that her new book had been illustrated by Stardust illustrator Charles Vess, and I can't say I was too surprised to find, right before going to sleep, that Neil had already written about the evening's occurrences on his blog.

Last bit: Coming up to the door to Michelle & Chad's flat, I pulled out the book again, smiling at the evening I'd had, and my good fortune. For the first time I opened up the book to the first page ... and stared, shocked, at the signed copy in my hands.

What a wonderful capper to the night!

Chad sent me this link:

This actually happened in London today

Y'know..... that's pretty awesome. *grin*

I may have just seen a fight on the street. Or it may have been two men just hugging; I'm not sure. They seemed to be grappling, and looked fairly vexed ... but there was also a distinct lack of hitting or punching.

Islington. Islington. I've not yet ventured into the City itself, but have mostly remained in the borough of Islington. (Except for Friday night, when Chad & I went out to a Stoke Newington pub to see his friend drum in jazz; I met many of his friends and we had many beers.) Islington, whose name I first read back in 6th grade, as home to the party where Arthur Dent first met Trillian and Zaphod. On a related note, I was amused and surprised when I came upon a rental sign bearing the name "Hotblack Desiato"; I'd never known the name's origin before.

Coming from a young country as the US to a place old as Britain, one has the distinct feeling of stepping back in time a few centuries. This is heightened by things like Chad & Michelle having a wash machine but no drier ("So you hang all your clothes? Even in the winter?" "Yep."), as well as having a bath but no shower ("So you just ... take baths all the time?" "Pretty much.").

On the other hand: Electric kettles. Really?

There are flavors and food ideas over here that are a real surprise. Sam may recoil in horror at this, but they put eggs on damn near anything. The other day I stopped at an eatery and saw on the menu: "BURGER ... CHEESE BURGER ... EGG & CHEESE BURGER"-- and promptly stopped in surprise. Taken aback, and a little grossed out, I nonetheless ordered it. (I'm open to anything.) Sure enough, it was a cheeseburger ... with a fried egg on top. AND IT WAS AWESOME!!!

Also: Blackcurrant. Why the HELL is this not a flavor that's widespread in the US? I only really discovered it last April, when it instantly became my favorite flavor of Jelly Baby. Yesterday at the grocery store, I picked up Twinings' Blackcurrant, Ginseng & Vanilla tea. Clearly, I MUST import that upon return.

Greggs is a pasty shop. No, let me be clear: it's a pasty FRANCHISE. And an incredibly prevalent one at that - I've found several in a 5-minute walking radius; they might just be Great Britain's Dunkin' Donuts. A few minutes ago I had a cheddar & onion pasty, and a sausage roll. My eyes rolled up in delight. GOOD GOD I LOVE IT HERE.

Which reminds me: Chad tells me that Michelle's possibly all-time favorite food is ... baked beans. Seriously. He says she puts it on damn near everything. The surprise and hilarity of this discovery reminds me of when Sarah & I drove out to L.A., and I encountered Levin's near-obsessive lust for beef jerky. Neither of these is typically "ladylike" cuisine, and I love how much their appetites break with convention.

As the plane touched down, I felt something inside me give a small leap. Neither land of my birth nor land of my kin, but seemingly land of my heart.

(One of, at least.)

The pilot announced the time and the weather, and I looked out in doubt at the overcast skies. "That looks nothing like 68 degrees," I smirked. Then I stopped, a bit shocked: "I'm gonna have to learn Celsius!" I thought a bit more. "And metric!" (That too.)

--

BTW, there's a basement apartment in the house of my aunt & uncle whom I was staying with these last two weeks, and it's currently without tenant. It's in the neighborhood of Bryn Mawr & Ashland, it's $675/mo, and that includes heat, electric and basic cable tv. (The heat included is the big bonus there, given Chicago winters.)

If you or anyone you know is interested, drop me an e-mail and I'll put you in touch. Also, I can vouch for the landlords - they're pretty great folk. :)

Y'know, I actually read a lot of GNs too. (No shit.) So maybe I'll make a list of them too. Unlike my book list, this will be only a list Oh fine, a few words can't hurt. But ONLY a few, dammit!

---

1. Pride of Baghdad, by Brian K. Vaughan & Niko Henrichon (January 5)

Amazing. Moving. Hopeful. Bleak. Incredible.

2. Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane Vol. 2: The New Girl, by Sean McKeever, Takeshi Miyazawa & Valentine De Landro (January 13)

Absolutely fun. Light & fluffy, as a teen high school drama should be.

3. Rick Mason: The Agent, by James D. Hudnall & John Ridgway (January 14)

Surprisingly decent spy story.

4. 67 Seconds, by James Robinson & Steve Yowell (January 15)

Being James Robinson, I expected nothing less than greatness. Didn't get it. Passable.

5. 12 Reasons Why I Love Her, by Jamie Rich & Joelle Jones (January 18)

Could have been great. Instead, was greatly flawed. Major disappointment.

6. The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaptation, by Sid Jacobson & Ernie Colon (February 10)

Terribly affecting. Terribly, horribly affecting. Everyone should read.

7. Tank Girl Vol. 1, by Jamie Hewlitt & Alan Martin (February 26)

Awful. The art veers between cute & overwrought, but the writing is sophomoric & vapid. The movie's way better - and considering the movie is just an over-the-top, ridiculous schlocky popcorn flick, that's saying something.

8. Lovebunny & Mr. Hell, by Tim Seeley (March 2)

HELL-arious! Really silly & really fun. More, please.

9. Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi (March 25)

Took me long enough to get to this, eh? Really well-told. Familiar & alien all at once. Powerful & disturbing. Reading the next one ASAP.

10. Spider-Man / Black Cat: The Evil That Men Do, by Kevin Smith & Terry Dodson (April 27)

I remembered enjoying the first three issues when they came out, but when #4 was more than three years late, I said to hell with it and decided to wait for the trade. Reading the whole story in one go I was surprised to find it's AWFUL. Especially in the latter (three-years-later) half, when it inexplicably and suddenly becomes a book about rape - and one handled very badly at that. Not only does it have the alarmingly poor judgment to make the villain a rapist/murderer who went bad due to years of sexual assault by his brother (oh! well, of course! that's why he's evil!), but it also retcons the Black Cat's origins as having been due to rape as well. Which was probably meant to be empowering, but really isn't. (What, she wasn't strong enough before to have become larger-than-life on her own? Her strength of character is only believable if it was a reaction to having first been a victim?) And as if all of this wasn't offensive enough, Kevin Smith's pay rate is apparently $4400 per issue. Yes, that's TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS for every PAGE of this crap! *disgust*

11. The Professor's Daughter, by Joann Sfar & Emmanuel Guibert (April 29)

This French graphic novel about the romance / action-caper between an Egyptologist's daughter and a walking, talking, rather charming mummy - set in 19th century London, no less - sold me on the premise alone. Didn't quite live up to my expectations, but still pretty decent.

12. Wet Moon Book 1: Feeble Wanderings, by Ross Campbell (May 5)

I bought this because the art style was immediately appealing - the characters look gothy, indie, and with body shapes that look like real people. Unfortunately, the pacing is glacial: after 170 pages, nothing's really happened. Debating on whether to pick up the next.

13. Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane Vol. 3: My Secret Life, by Sean McKeever and Takeshi Miyazawa (May 25)

I just caught William giggling with delight as he was reading this, and I agree: I totally love whenever a new volume comes out. It's also interesting that as fun and pleasurably melodramatic as a teen drama should be ... it also points out how a lot of the stupid behaviors we exhibit as adults are pretty much the exact same stupid behaviors we exhibited as teenagers. :P

14. The Homeless Channel, by Matt Silady (May 27)

I've known Matt Silady for about ten years, as he's one of G-Mart's longest customers, dating back to the early Champaign days. This is his first graphic novel, and it's fantastic. The story is of a woman who starts up a cable network completely built around the topic of the homeless in Chicago. There are standard cable shows that have their intent tweaked towards the subject at hand, and there are also times when they just have a live feed pointed at the streets. The story is compelling, the characters are flawed but likable, and the art style reminds me more than a little of Michael Gaydos. (Matt says that's interesting, as the art was based off of photos he did - I immediately recognized on my first reading that he was his own model for the character of Grady - and that he's heard that Gaydos works off of photos in much the same way.) Especially considering this was his debut work, that's some impressive talent on display. Seriously - pick this one up.

15. Persepolis 2, by Marjane Satrapi (May 28)

Even better than the first. Not sure if it's because Marjane's storytelling abilities had evolved so much more by this point, or because this volume - covering her teenage years and early adulthood - simply appealed to me more in terms of the personal discoveries involved. In any case, she's fantastic, and hers is an eye-opening and inspiring story.

16. Embroideries, by Marjane Satrape (June 7)

This graphic novella tells the story of a midday samovar, and the stories the women tell after all the men have kicked off for a nap. The stories are fascinating, funny, infuriating and stunning; the true meaning of the title of the book is somewhat horrifying, but most of the women speaking of it laugh at the idea. As ever, Marjane provides us with a window into a culture where so much is completely alien and different to the Western viewpoint, and yet so much remains the same.

17. Bullet Points, by J. Michael Straczynski & Tommy Lee Edwards (June 8)

I love both of these creators, but this alternate-universe tale didn't really move me. Partly it's due to the fact that the "one bullet changes EVERYTHING" conceit doesn't really hold up under scrutiny; part of it is certainly my overly-fannish resistance to Elseworlds-like stories (lamely, there's always a sense of "so what's the point?"); but I think mostly it may be the fact that in a 5-issue miniseries featuring remixed versions of the Hulk, Spider-Man, Iron Man, Steve Rogers, Reed Richards and more, there's not really enough room for any personal journeys. It's decent enough, certainly - but considering the creators involved, I expected more.

18. Exit Wounds, by Rutu Modan (June 11)

"Do you think that every time we meet a person we should treat it like it was the last time we were ever going to see them?"

This Israeli author tells the story of Koby, a self-involved taxi driver in Tel Aviv who is approached by a female soldier regarding his father - a man she has reason to believe was one of the unidentified victims of a suicide bombing a few weeks back. Their journey of discovery and their ever-changing relationship is handled with impressive subtlety, and Modan's art is at once elegantly simple and extremely detailed.

19. Jane's World, Vol. 7, by Paige Braddock (June 25)

The latest volume of the lesbian farce action drama. That sounds like it's too many genres at once, but Paige flips between them so effortlessly that what should clash, doesn't. The extraordinarily large cast of characters is sometimes hard to keep track of, but it's certainly worth the extra effort.

20. Chicken With Plums, by Marjane Satrapi (June 29)

Somewhat of a departure from her previous works, though still in the same vein. In November 1958, a man who can no longer can find any joy in life lies down to die. Eight days later, he does so. This book is the story of that week, filled with reflection and understanding and regret.

As my purgepurgepurge continues...

I have the following gift certificates that I've won this past year, at silent auction benefits for the House Theatre and Babes With Blades. I bid on them primarily to support the companies in question; however, since it's unlikely I'll be able to use them anytime soon, I'm now offering them up for grabs:

* Chicago Center For The Performing Arts - 2 $60 gift certificates. Expiration date of September 1, 2007.

* "Certificate for four guests to tour the Glessner House Museum during regular tour hours, Wednesday through Sunday 1:00, 2:00, 3:00 pm." No expiration date printed.

* 4 tickets for Shoreline Sightseeing's Architecture Cruise on the Chicago River. No expiration date printed.

--

Additionally, I have a number of old computers & computer parts to get rid of. There's an old (but still viable) monitor, I have about 4-6 computer cases which may or may not have (very old) working motherboards & other components inside them, etc. Vered had suggested The National Cristina Foundation, but they require you to actually fill out very detailed forms specifying exactly what tech you're donating. Which is exactly what I DON'T want to do; with my limited remaining time, I just want to give them to someone who will take them off my hands. If that's not a particular person or foundation, they'll just end up sitting in the alley.

So. If you want any of the above - tech purge or gift certificates - please drop me an e-mail directly (not here), and I'll let you know if they're still available.

This past weekend two competing comics conventions took place - Heroes Convention in Charlotte, NC and Wizard World Philadelphia. As is usual for this sort of thing, an enormous amount of news and exciting changes were announced. I'll run through my favorite bits here:

• First off, we've known for a while that writer and series creator Sean McKeever would soon be leaving the absolutely wonderful Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane. This was really distressing, because SMLMJ is a fun, funny, and awesomely adorable version of the Spider-Man mythos as viewed through the lens of a teenage high-school drama. It's all about the characters and the relationships, and the super-hero stuff actually enters into it very little. I've been picking the series up in the digests, which come out about every five months or so, and I love it to pieces. Who, I wondered, could possibly keep the flavor of this series?
  
  First forehead-slapping moment of the weekend: Terry Moore, whose final issue of Strangers in Paradise just came out this past week, finishing the saga of Francine, Katchoo & David after 14 years.
  
  
• Mark Waid returns to The Flash.
  
  Oh holy hell was I giddy at this news. In 1996, I realized that 95% of the Marvel titles I was reading were crap, and I dropped pretty much everything except for Peter David's Hulk. Instead, I picked up all of DC's line at once for a few months to sample everything they had to offer, and found a number of things that I really liked.
  
  One of them was The Flash, which was midway through Mark Waid's fantastic run. I know I had read a few things from Waid before, but I don't know if he had yet made much of an impression on me. But after just 3 or 4 issues of reading his Flash ... I had a new favorite super-hero. Not only could I appreciate the concept itself (I've always said that if I could have one superpower it would be super-speed; there just aren't enough hours in the day), but I fell in love with the character almost instantly. It's been said that Grant Morrison writes from the head, and Mark Waid writes from the heart; I think that's absolutely true, and nowhere did he do this better than on The Flash.
  
  So the news that he's coming back is a joy.
  
  
• Amazing Spider-Man will now be published three times a month.
  
  This was certainly the most bizarre news to break since ... I don't know what. For the past few years, there have been three "core" Spider-Man titles: Amazing Spider-Man (written by J. Michael Straczynski), Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man (written by Peter David), and Sensational Spider-Man (written by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa). I have been reading ASM and FNSM, because JMS and David are AWESOME. Aguirre-Sacasa is a playwright, and his plays might be good - but his comics are terrible, so I avoid SSM.
  
  And now comes the absolutely perplexing news that Marvel will be ending FNSM and SSM, and moving ASM to three times a month. In other words, exactly the same number of "core" Spider-Man comics as before, but now all in one title. From a sales standpoint, this certainly makes sense - ASM is the original title that's been running since 1963, it's the title most people know, and it outsells the other two by a wide margin. If you're Marvel, and you're going to sell three issues of "core" Spider-Man comics a month, why not make them all sell at the higher plateau?
  
  It's something that's never really been approached this way before, and in terms of grand experiments I'm really impressed and really interested. HOWEVER - I don't know if this is a good thing or not. And I don't know if I'll be buying it.
  
  Because for one thing, we don't really know how it will be produced. I think we can assume that a book shipping three times a month will need multiple creative teams ... so how will they do it? Will they go the 52 route of having one team of multiple writers, who all work on every single issue? That sounded like a hell of a lot of work, so I doubt that. Perhaps more along the lines of Countdown, where there's one "head writer", and then different writers will flesh out the different story arcs? Possibly, tho that still sounds a little hinky. I sure as hell hope it's not a return to the editorially-driven comics of the 1990s, or that it's just different creative teams for different story arcs with no real connection between them; that's the approach taken with JSA Classified, Superman / Batman, and the previous incarnation of JLA, and that's why I ended up dropping each of those books: Some of the writers I might like, but others would be mediocre or just plain bad. I'm not a fan of serial fiction just because of the characters in question, though I do have favorite characters; rather, I really like seeing a creator with an amazing vision (see: JMS, Joss Whedon) tell their particular story. During the "rotating creative teams" period of JLA, the editor stated his feelings that "Every creator has one great Justice League story!" ... and I think the resulting sales bore out the conclusion that no, they really don't.
  
  So, in theory I applaud Marvel's bold experiment and find it really intriguing. In practice, unless the new creative teams are absolutely stellar, I don't know that I'll be continuing to pick it up. Which sucks: I like Spider-Man, and I really like being able to read about him every month, and I liked that I could pick up ASM and FNSM and ignore the title that sucked. But now....?
  
  
• Dwayne McDuffie is the new writer on Justice League of America.
  
  Oh thank God.
  
  I seriously don't know what to make of Brad Meltzer. His first comics work was a 6-issue Green Arrow road trip story about, I kid you not, GA getting his old shit out of storage. It was even less exciting than it sounds.
  
  And then he wrote the absolutely thrilling (and fairly controversial) Identity Crisis, which changed the face of the DC Universe, which led to Infinite Crisis, which led to 52, which led to Countdown, which leads to....
  
  So I was looking forward to Meltzer's run on JLA. But once again, it's awful - though this time for reasons completely different than his GA story. To call the plots convoluted would be an understatement of the highest degree; each story seems to have more characters in it than the comic actually has pages (and think on THAT for a second!); and he makes the typical "novelist in comics" mistake of overloading every single panel with far far FAR more text than it should have, rather than writing comics as a truly visual medium. I read his first story arc month-by-month and had NO idea what was going on. After it was over, I went back and re-read the story all at once ... and it still didn't make sense.
  
  Fortunately, the new writer is Dwayne McDuffie. Having first come to prominence 20 years ago with the super-hero satire Damage Control (quick premise: When super-beings fight, who cleans up the mess?), he later was one of the chief architects of DC's multi-ethnic Milestone imprint, and for the past several years has been involved in writing several of the DC cartoons, even graduating to a writer/producer on Justice League Unlimited. He's also the new writer on Fantastic Four, following JMS's run, and I've been really pleased with what he's been turning out.
  
  So I'm really happy about this news. Looks like I won't have to drop JLA after all.
  
  
• Dan Slott is leaving She-Hulk. This is something we've known for a few months, and we're all very sad about. (However, rumors indicate he may be one of the writers on ASM....)
  
  She-Hulk has developed a real cult following in its current incarnation, and the reason is all Dan Slott's. He gave us a character who's massively strong, yet highly complex and often conflicted. He perfectly balances the action and the drama, but he also retains the silliness inherent in the 1990s John Byrne series. When I loaned the first few issues to Tish on a whim she immediately fell in love with the character, and it's one of the only current comics that Dana reads as well.
  
  So again, I wondered who could possibly retain the high quality of the series. And in the second forehead-slapping "of course!" moment of the weekend, they announced it will be Peter David.
  
  Even setting aside the fact that he wrote The Incredible Hulk for 11 years, to the extent that he's the creator most readers associate with the character ... he's perfect for the book. He's well-known for having a writing style that's old-school in its desire to actually give each issue its own story - rather than just writing excerpted chapters of the forthcoming TP - and he's one of the few creators who is extremely skilled at balancing the humor, the action, and the drama. Like Terry Moore on SMLMJ, I would not have thought of Peter David when theorizing who might take over the book ... but upon having heard the news, it became immediately obvious in an "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" sort of way.

So! Lots of good stuff coming down the pike. Lots to really look forward to.

Actual thoughts that just happened in my head:

WHAT?!

Today is FRIDAY?!

How the hell did THAT happen...???

*brain explodey*

Earlier today I e-mailed all of our first-time subscribers, as I do every month. Make sure they understand the site, see if there are any questions I can clear up, see if they want to start their subscriptions earlier than [this month + 2]. Basic customer service stuff, checking with them to introduce myself and ensure they start off on the right foot.

One of these people I e-mailed today was a guy who had subscribed to Countdown. This evening, he gave me a call on the cell phone to make sure his payment was properly set up, etc., etc. Spoke to him for a few minutes, whereupon he told me that he's currently stationed in Kosovo, and how glad he was to find us - that he'll still be able to keep up with his comics whilst he's overseas.

This isn't the first time this has come up; we have many military customers - more than most mail-order shops, I'd wager - and over the past few years I've even spoken to several who have been stationed in Iraq. But this was one of those great phone calls where the customer's enthusiasm and excitement really shone through, and the sense of gratitude in his voice was unmistakable.

I've been at my job for 11 years now, and it's easy to occasionally suffer from the typical crisis of conscience. (Is it okay to have a job you enjoy this much? Should I be doing something more altruistic, something with greater "meaning" and relevance than a job in the entertainment/retail field?) Especially when compared to - oh, gee, I dunno - someone who puts himself in danger every day, trying to make a difference.

I don't know that those questions will ever really go away, or ever be answered to my satisfaction. But every so often, I get a reminder that this is a field where people generally purchase the products with a certain sense of JOY - and by being in this job, I get to help make that happen.

It's not The Answer, and I don't even know if it's much of an answer.

But for a brief period, at least, it's something.

So, G-Mart has finally moved into Chicago. This is an awesome thing, and we're all very excited about it.

We have a very large space in Logan Square - 2760 N. Milwaukee. It's just southeast from the intersection of Diversey, Kimball & Milwaukee, and just northwest of the Logan Square circle. This new location will house our mail order operations as well as a brand new storefront, hopefully opening this July.

As such, we will be hiring at least one full-time position and some number of part-timers, for shipping / warehouse / retail. Experience in these areas is a plus, as well as a breadth of knowledge and experience with comics and the current comics market.

(In Champaign, we quickly learned that people would often apply because they thought comics was an easy job they wouldn't have to put much effort into. Don't be fooled; we work hard and so will you. But we also have fun. Hey, it IS comics, after all!)

Interested? If so, e-mail me your resume; we hope to be filling these positions ASAP.

And hey - let me know if you have any questions!