Well it's a one for the money...

Bought on sale at 75% off.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that always wanted a pair of these.

Scene: an Indian Restaurant in the Livingston Outlet Mall

...and everyone in the joint looks like an extra from a napkin-and-manners-free version of Trainspotting.

Except for the Indian family with the well-behaved children, seated in the middle of the restaurant.

Who look really out of place.

In an Indian restaurant.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that can't think of a funny thing to add here.

Men and Women

Seeing this reminded me of a joke:
Two women are out shopping when they notice a department store that they had never seen before. The went to the entrance where they ere stopped by a security guard who told them "this is a very special store: it has five fllors and sells all types of men. You can pick out any one man you want, but you can only visit each floor one time and can't go back. Well, the women agree to this and enter the store. The ground floor had a sign on it that read "Intelligent and Attractive Men" and sure enough, the floor was filled with them. They women went to the next floor and the the sign said "Intelligent and Attractive Men with Good Jobs". "This is even better", thought the women, "let's see what's next!" The next floo was signposted "Intelligent and Attractive Men with Good Jobs, who are Faithful and not Afraid of Commitment". The women were amazed - "we have to see what comes next!" Their excintment growing, they went to the next floor, where the sign said "Intelligent and Attractive Men with Good Jobs, who are Faithful and not Afraid of Commitment who want Children and will make Great Fathers". The women were in elated expectation as they ran up the stairs to the last flloor -what god-like male creatures would they find? But when they got to the top of the stairs, the women were brought up short; the entire floor was empty, except for a small sign that read "This just goes to prove that some women are never satisfied".

Merry Christmas!

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that would have been in the bargan basement of that department store.

There is a Thunderstrorm in Polbeth...

... and I notice that I am suddenly quite popular with the feline set.

And so it goes...

I have done it. I have finally turned in the final copy of my PhD to the post-graduate office. Now, on with the rest of my life.
Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is officially not a student for the first time in 13-and-a-half years.

It's Time to End This.

I should have ended it long ago, but enough is enough. Goodbye, Olga.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that's done with it.

Weird Cat Pose

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that says "It's a cat thang, you wouldn't understand."

Another day...

...another retro mac-and-cheese with breadcrumbs on top.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that sometimes makes it southern-style with crushed potato chips.

Saturday in the pub.

I am sitting in a pub in Wester Hales. This is not something I often do, either separatly or in combination. I am out and about doing errands; I had to go to the post office to mail a letter (my passport renewal) and pick up a package from my mom in California - a cat scratcher for the boys. After I took care of that, I gave my car it's nose, and it took me here, a pub across the street from the bank I worked at 15 years ago. It was sparlking new then, and while it no longer has that new car smell, it has actually held up nae bad. It is raging outside; the wind is blowing so hard the rain is horizontal. The inside of the pub is serene; there is fitba on the telly, but it's English Premier league, no no one's really paying it much mind. There is a young couple sitting nearby, silently smiling at each other as they eat their chips; they've done this before, but not so many times that it hasn't lost it's magic. On the other side of them are two old women who are complaining that none of the Scottish fitba teams gave any Scottish players. My burger comes. It's called a "Juicy Lucy". Unsurprisingly, it's a bit dry. Maybe it needs foreplay first.
A goal is scored and this elicits a small reaction from the crowd. The excitement is too much for me and I finish my sandburger and start to make for the door.


Saturday in the pub completed.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that doesn't understand the offside rule.

Post-PhD cooking 3, Talk the Talk and Rock the Wok.

Vegetarian stir fry with quorn (remember, hot wok-cold oil) with c-o-t-c and mango rhubarb chutney.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is still amazed that the list of illustrations does not need revising.

Post-Phd Cooking, No. 2 in an occasional series.

Mac and smoked cheese al forno, from scratch.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that makes a pretty mean Mornay sauce.

200th Post!

To celebrate, I bought some fancy coffee. Christmas Blend - limited edition. Then I went looking for my French press. Which I could not find. Which I then remembered I had given away in Phoenix. Which meant I had no civilised way of creating of my tasty caffeinated beverage. Which meant that I had to go back to the supermarket I was just in and buy a French press (a Bodum, but a cheap one). And schlep back home. To make coffee. With milk and sugar. Except I couldn't, because I was out of milk. Now I know what your thinking: "Ha! he went all the way back to the supermarket yet again to get milk - what a disorganised idiot!" But that's where you would be wrong - I didn't go back to the supermarket, I went to the Co-op down the road, which is much closer and was out of milk (delivery truck was late). So now, this was becoming a test of my tenacity as a man: I am going to slay the wildebeest, I am going to scale the heights of Everest, I am going to drink a cup of coffee with milk! Full fat milk, too; I'm tired of f@#king around with this s#*t. So I drove back to the supermarket, boldly strode (yes, I know that's bad Trekie grammar, but at this point, I'm to fired up to care) up to the milk cooler, got me a full two litres of creamy white joy and threw that bad boy on the black belt of the checkout counter. As luck would have it, I had the same cashier as my previous two excursions of futility; she cast me a glance that belied her bemusement, amusement and mild contempt an my lack of shopping prowess. I whipped off my imaginary state trooper Ray Bans, looked her straight in the eye and said "I have slain the wildebeest. I have scaled Everest. For I have dined on honeydew (melons - I bought some on my first trip; they were on sale, 2 for £2) and I am going to drink the milk of paradise!"

Triumphantly, I took my milk home and added it to my, now tepid, cup of joe.

I looked down at the dead wildebeest at the bottom of the cup and though to myself, "best damn coffee I've ever had."

Al Fornocation

The result of my vegetarian lasagna. I think this may be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T with mozzarella that is perfectly browned on top.

The kitchen in my new flat.

Finally have unpacked most of my kitchen stuff (some of which I have not seen in five years). Wow, this may be home yet.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that thinks he may be right.

Post-PhD Cooking, No. 1 in an occasional series.

Vegetarian lasagna al forno, ready for the oven. Notice the vintage Le Creuset Raymond Lowey-designed enameled cast-iron casserole dish.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is still getting used to the idea of having a life that doesn't include having to rewrite the summary and conclusion.

Somebody...

...has figured out how to jump fom the desk, to the revolving bookcase, to the top of the wardrobe.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that knows how to find the warmest place in the flat.

Stranger in a Strange Land

I'm bilingual - I speak English and American (with a fair bit of Scots as well). I can hoover the flat whilst blethering on my mobile, as well as vacuum the apartment while shooting the shit on my cell. But some days... Some days it feels like the entie country has collectively declared it "National we gonie pretend we dinie ken what the fook that Yank is on about" day, whick this week, falls on November 23. Part of it is my accent; since I'm from California, it sounds a bit fake and movie-starish to the locals. Sigh.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that speaks the language, but doesn't drink the water.

Busking in Dubai

The job hunt is not going so well. This is starting to look somewhat attractive...

Busking in Dubai; how hard could it be?

Putting them on a pedistal

Smudge, lord of all he surveys.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T with a regal bearing.

I was going to make the bed...

...guess not.

Sent from my HTC PURESLEEP™, a Windows® phone from AT&T it would be a sin and a shame to disturb.

Observations at the Mall

I had to go the mall today to do some banking. Whilst there I had a late lunch. I really dislike malls, but they are a good place to people-watch. Except today. C'mon people, I've got a blog to write! I can't fill it with quirky observations on the human condition if you plebeian automatons refuse to provide fodder for my cannon of sarcastic, yet surprisingly humane, wit.

Sometimes the world just runs dry.

Sigh.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that can't think of anything interesting to say.

Ride an Electric Guitar

Gwan, ya know ya wanna...

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that mentally figured out the scale length of this thing

Friday Cat Blogging

Wut? I'm not doing anything wrong, am I?

Bags, it's a cat thing- you woudn't understand.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that's happiest when he thinks he's getting away with something bad.

Just call me Sisyphus...

For the last week, I have been making the final corrections on my PhD thesis. I have gone over every page, multiple times, fixing commas and full stops. I have even removed words like "whilst" and "outwith" that my examiners didn't like- they, ironically, showing a preference for American-style English and not approving of some perfectly fine and proper Scottish words. (The rumour that I called Les Paul a "glaikit eejit" in chapter nine are completely false; it was chapter ten) At this point, all I want is a quiet life- or any life at all that doesn't involve electric guitars before 1930. Even with the work that has been done polishing the text, I still see little mistakes cropping up- things that really ought to be sorted, like awkward sentences that need to be sent to charm school. But I'm finding it hard to care; for now, I just want the boulder to stay on top of the hill.

I have other rocks to roll.

A Small Milestone

Today I cancelled my US cellphone. I sent out texts to everyone one in my phone-book that I thought would want my new number, shut the phone off, and removed the sim card, never to be used again. It feels a little strange - I had that number for five years, ever since moving to Arizona. It becomes a part of your identity, and so I guess I'm feeling as if I've lost a part of myself. If so, it's a part of myself I won't miss. There is no longer anything 480 319 4096 about me.
Coming back to Scotland has been difficult, both logistically and emotionally, but each passing day makes me more sure it was the right move.

All that's missing is a job.

Sent fae ma HTC PURE™, a Windaes® phone fae AT&T that now bleathers wi' a wee brogue.

This is what inner peace looks like.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that knows no stress or anxiety.

I don't want to save the rainforest, I just want to keep my shirts dry.

It is been raining here for the past week or so, with varying degrees of strength. Last night we had a bit of a mini downpour. In the middle of the night, I heard a strange "thup, thup, thup" coming from the closet. I got up to investigate and found my clothes were soaking wet; the ceiling was leaking quite heavily. Now, this would not be that unusual of occurrence in Scotland during a rainstorm except for one salient fact; my flat is on the ground floor of a two-storey building. What makes it worse is that the closet has a small cupboard above it, which in effect creates another ceiling, and this arrangement is repeated in the flat above. So, for water to enter my closet and soak my shirts, it must first bypass the roof, enter the cupboard in the upstairs flat, drip into the closet below that, flow in to my cupboard, and finally drain into my closet and onto my clothes. Realising this, I went upstairs to investigate the flat, which was surprisingly unlocked, and unsurprisingly unoccupied. I really don't have words to describe it, save to say that it reminded me of the waterpark in San Dimas, California. I emailed my landlord about this, more for the benefit of him and his building than my waterlogged wearables, and I received his reply this morning, which was to the effect that he had been upstairs to view the flat, and amazingly enough, there was a small leak that needed seeing to. My landlord, while nice enough, definitely has a gift for understatement. My first thoughts on viewing the upstairs flat was I had discovered a new rainforest ecosystem and that there might be predators, possibly jaguars or pumas, lurking about.

No matter, I'm not taking any chances; I am building an ark.

Interesting Things

They are everywhere, but always outside.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Stares out the Windows® phone from AT&T

Why is it...

...when I'm trying to go to bed / fall asleep the cats always think that is a cue for putting on a floor show, complete with a kitty can-can? Right now they are flipping a cat toy at each other as if they were defending a football (soccer for my US friends) goal. While cute, it's annoying.

Little nocturnal jerks.

A secret message for a friend in Finland

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Waiting at the window.

Hobbes

"There is a whole world out there...  and it's fascinating and beautiful!"

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is really glad to be with his cats in Scotland

The Law of Unintended Diner Consequences

I was emailing a friend of mine back in New York who is a waiter at the diner I used to frequent. And I was bemoaning the lack of diners in Scotland, in fact the whole UK. Really, the closest you get to an American-style diner here in the UK is a transport cafe, the kind that you used to see on the roads/motorways. These however, are exceedingly rare these days, having been killed off by motorway services, which are invariably a Burger King, KFC, and or a rather crap self-service cafe. Even the original transport cafes were nowhere near as good, cheap and cool as an upper East coast American diner. When I used to play in rockabilly bands my UK friends in the scene were particularly obsessed with American diner culture (which is somewhat ironic since I was always obsessed with European, particularly French, cafe culture; plus ca change...) and wishing it could be found in Blighty. I think the closest the UK ever came to having an American style diner was the Ace Cafe in North London, but even then that was mostly about atmosphere and not food. Anyway, I was thinking about why that was the case, other than Brits traditionally having no taste for decent food and not caring about not having any taste for food (it should be noted that this has greatly changed over the last 20 years; I blame TV chefs and cheap holidays to Florida – it only takes a trip to one all you can eat buffet to open up your eyes).

Anyway, I was thinking about why this was the case. I think that there are two main reasons; real estate and taxes. Both of these reasons are intertwined with the fact the basic nature of the diner is to sit down to eat. Although Americans have always been very big on eating on the go, they also been very big on quick meals in places where you can sit down – lunch counters and diners. And while shop space in American cities has always been expensive, it is been much more so in towns and cities in the UK. Shops here are small because rent is expensive. A shopkeeper has to make every square foot of his shop pay for itself. That is why you do not tend to see shops in the UK that are laid out with beautiful minimalist designs like an Apple Store in the US. It just doesn't make financial sense. By the same token, restaurants tend to take up lots of space. In a sitdown restaurant the kitchen is actually only a small percentage of the total floor space. In the UK the thinking tends to be on how to minimise business costs – since those costs tend to be so high – rather than how to increase business to cover those costs. So for the would-be UK restauranteur, If you are aiming at the lower end of the market, it makes much more sense to open a takeaway (no dining room which means no waitresses, no dishes and cutlery, and much less washing, etc) than a traditional sitdown restaurant. The other big detriment for a restaurant owner here is VAT, which is the sales tax in the UK. The government does not charge VAT on food, unless it is served in a sitdown restaurant. Oh, and did I mention that the VAT is 17.5%? So for the privilege of sitting down to eat your meal, it will cost you 17.5% more. And most people in the UK do not feel that is good value for money. Most people here wanting a cheap meal would be happy to take it home, or more likely just eat it in the street rather than pay for the privilege of sitting down. Britain is one of the few European countries were eating in the street (other than something like an ice cream cone) is not frowned upon (in fact it is very common). While I'm sure there are other forces at work, I think it's likely that these two economic factors are the main reasons why an American-style diner culture has never taken hold in the UK.

Mushroom, mushoom.

Reunited with two old friends; my antique shaving mug and my snakewood/silver badger hair shaving brush. The type of bristles on a shaving brush makes a huge difference to how well the soap lathers, and hence how close a shave you get. Foam in a can is crap by comparison. Once you've had badger, you can't go back.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that knows how to properly shave old school.

PS Only a very select few will get the meaning of the title. But who cares...

Spinning my wheels.

All day today. It's always the minutia of life that keeps you from getting to the real work.

Jersey

So all my staff arrived today from the US. Unpacking was slightly less problematic than packing was back in New York City. The only problem I ran into was that the storage unit I rented was a bit smaller than the one in Manhattan. And while there wasn't much space left in that one, this one is packed absolutely full top to bottom. In fact, to get everything to fit I actually had to take some clothes and a couple of small boxes back to the flat. The price for storage is roughly the same as it was in Manhattan, the problem is that storage units tend to be smaller over here. I have the biggest one that's available (and the second biggest size that they have on the site) and it's only 7 x 8 x 8 feet tall. And of course the said to be shipped internationally by a 20 foot container that was only half full, because it works out cheaper that way. Crazy. One big difference between here in New York was the guy who delivered the shipping container; the delivery driver here was a couple of hours early, but was happy to wait until my movers came to unload it. Then again, that's not too surprising since he was paid to wait – no skin off his nose. The container truck driver in Manhattan was a real piece of work; a union man from New Jersey who obviously aspired to be a character on the Sopranos. He was three hours late delivering the container and then tried to insist that he should charge over time because he was going to be late for his next delivery! When I tried to point out the absurdity of him charging me for his lateness, he really could not understand the contradiction. He said, and I quote,"I dunno nuttin'' 'bout dat, all I know is somebody's gotta pay fur muh overtime".

And people wonder why Jersey's f@#ked.

Comfortable?

This can't be...

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

This don't work

Does it?

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

What I did today...

... I spent five hours trying to set up my American mobile phone to work properly with my new UK number (email, etc.). So far I have failed.

But I fight on!

In which I come clean.

If I have any regular readers left, you will have noticed that I have been not blogging much in the past few days. The official excuse is the much moving and resettling I have been doing. This is not only involved physical relocation, but the disruption and reselling of my connectivity to the world, both online and by phone. Especially difficult has been the transition to a UK phone number, since I no longer have easy access to the web connectivity which allowed me to post blog updates via phone. I still haven't gotten around to setting up my crappy old phone to connect to the Internet here. So all of this together is essentially meant radio silence from me here in Scotland.

Except that's bullshit.

All of the foregoing, whilst true, is not the real reason for my absence.

It's small-minded envy.

For the past few weeks, I have been finding myself incredibly envious of others. Their lives, their relationships, their opportunities, their creature comforts. I have been comparing myself and finding myself wanting (in both senses of the word), and beating myself up about it. The thing is, these kind of thoughts are unusual for me; I have many faults, but being small-minded and jealous has never been my modus operandi before. To put it bluntly, I have been throwing a first-class pity party with myself of the guest of honour. And this has affected my blogging in two ways; talking myself into depression has sapped my will to write, and what little I do want to write is all along the lines of "poor me".

Well, screw that for a game of marbles.

Things are not easy for me right now, in fact I think they are about the toughest I can remember in some ways. However it is still a long ways from the end of the world as we know it. I have some pretty important and amazing things going for me. And while none of these by themselves solve my immediate problems, they definitely put me had the game compared to a lot of people. Here then, for my benefit more than yours, is a list of reasons for me to be cheerful.

First and foremost, my health. Oh, it's not perfect, but it could be a lot worse. And, I am now living in a country where if something does happen to me, I actually have access to health care.

I am for the most part, completely debt free. While I was still living in Arizona and making good money, I managed to pay off my huge student loans from the 1980s and early 1990s. Also, when I left the US I left no debt behind me; car loan, credit cards, et cetera were all paid off. The only money I owe is a small amount on the car I just purchased, which will be easily taking care of once I'm working again.

I am a citizen of the UK, and thus eligible to work anywhere in the European Union. This means that lots of jobs in my field, which would normally be tough for Americans to qualify for, are open to me.

I have a Ph.D., which allows me to jump the queue in the bread line and allows me to sit at the high table at any soup kitchen in the UK.

And finally, I am me. And as imperfect and nonoptimal that is in many ways, my experience has been that I have managed to muddle through in many disparate unusual circumstances and been okay. In fact, it's not exaggerating too much to say that my life has been a series of highly unlikely adventures, one after another. All of which I have coped with and survived. There is no reason to believe that my ability to cope and survive has suddenly evaporated.

Spero meliora, baby.

Radio Silence and more on the Fish Tea

I apologise for the recent lack of bloggy-ness. There has then a break in my online connectivity as I transition from US to UK accounts. Normal service is now resuming.

Oh, and by the way, for my non-UK readers, "fish tea" does not refer to a pescetarian beverage, but rather is the Scottish name for an upgraded fish and chips dinner, typically including a buttered slice of white bread and sometimes peas as well, especially if it's not a takeaway. ("Tea" is used here as a synonym for the evening meal."Supper" is also commonly used. "Dinner", is often used as a name for lunch, especially in an institutional setting.)

Although very simple, when done well there is something magical about the combination of fish, chips and peas..

Somewhat ironically, the best drink to accompany a fish tea is not tea, but Irn Bru.

Fish tea at the Kinross Motorway Services

Suprisingly tasty.

Sent from my HTC HADDOCK™, a Windows® phone from AT&T with salt and sauce

Hodie

Today is a day that one should celebrate. To be with family, friends. To eat an overly-sweet slice of cake and share a very dry bottle of wine. It's a day that you use to reflect, looking both back and forward and taking stock of your life and your place in the universe.

I'm doing none of those things today.

The one where I am discouraged.

I am beginning to think I am only given hope to make the subsiquent let-down that much more substantial.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is really needing an off-stage contraption to deliver Zeus centre stage right about now.

The last mile, being the longest.

The boys should be here in less than an hour. I am sure they will have tales (tails?)to tell.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that patiently waits.

Krispy Kreme

Krispy Kreme doughnuts. In Edinburgh. A drive-thru Krispy Kreme doughnuts in Edinburgh. And it's open late. This is not the Scotland I remember. But I'm OK with that.

Sent from my HTC PUREFATANDSUGARTHATISHARDENINGMYARTERIESJUSTTHINKINGABOUTIT™, a Windows® phone from AT&T with chocolate sprinkles

Moggie Migration Update 2

Hopefully, they are arriving on the morrow.

Back and There Again.

It's just my to do list, but the over-the-top title page gives it a certain archaic glamour, methinks.

Sent from my HTC REDBOOKOFWESTMARCH™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that has never read the Hobbit and has no idea what you are Tolkien about.

Hanging out with another old friend, part 2

It was good for the soul. Thanks, you.

A rather funny thought.

The room I'm staying  in at the B & B (or the I³, as it is more appropriately known), is actually slightly smaller than the walk-in closet in my old house in Phoenix.

Hanging out with an old friend.

It was good for the soul.

Moggie Migration Update

The boys are in Dusseldorf. Eating schnitzel. OK, I  made that last part up.

In which I am clever and resourceful.

Tonight, I heated up a cold Cornish pastie I bought from a garage (gas station) by placing it on top of the electric kettle in my room, letting the rising steam do the job.

It worked quite well.

No challenge is beyond me.

In honour of this somewhat momentous event, I have officially named this place "The Inn of Infinite Ingenuity", or the I³ for short.

A wee change

When I first lived in Scotland in the early 90s, whenever I went to a shop, the person behind the counter, on hearing my accent would invariably say, in a fauxmerican, sing-song voice, "Have a nice da-ay!", thus showing their awareness of American customer service culture and their mastery of irony in one deft move. In the few hours since I've been back I have been told to have a nice day multiple times.

This has been said genuinely, without feeling, and also without irony.

This is not progress.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Baggage

Is here.

I am now shaved an' weel sarkit.

Good news/Bad news

The good news is, they found my luggage. The bad news is, it's in Estonia.

And the cats are in LA, heading to Italy

Scattered.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Rabbit at Rest

I have made it to the B&B. In deepest darkest Fife. In the dark. Without a map or GPS. I actually drove straight to it, no wrong turns. Did I mention it was dark? It's nice to know the sense of direction/detection that helped me to drive the band's van to gigs (I could always find the venue) way back when still works.

And so to bed.

But of course...

...the airline loses my suitcase.

Sent from my HTC STINKY™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that will be wearing the same ratty T-shirt and trousers for a few days.

IRN BRU OMNIA VINCIT

With all of the shit that has happened over the last few years, I need to remember the goals and milestones I set for myself.

This was one. And one only my Scots friends will understand.

One down, a million to go.
Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone that hasn't quite given up yet.

So close, I can taste it.

On the plane to Edinburgh, waiting for take off. I'm eating a cheese an' onion sarnie.

It's wonderful. On so many levels, it's wonderful.

How can a simple f'n sandwich make you misty-eyed?

Sent from my HTC PUREBLISS™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is very easy pleased.

More than halfway, less than all there.

I'm off of the flight from Newark. The immigration officer was very disturbed by my emergency passport; "But why did you let your old one expire?"she asks repeatedly "I don't understand?" I finally replied, "I'm incompetent and have poor life skills." This actually seemed to please her- a traveler was finally speaking the truth; what she had always known in her heart was confirmed. And for her, I could not progress until I admitted I had a problem.

"My name is Matthew, and I am a passport expire-er"

I'm now in the labyrinth of Heathrow, trying to get from terminal 3 to 5.

This may or may not be achieved.

Sent from my HTC PURECONFUSION™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is really just wants a cup of tea and my bed and for this nonsense to stop, thankyouverymuch.

Time, Gentlemen, Please!

The sun is shining on the planes, making the tails cast long shadows like the gnomon on a sundial. And like a sundial, it's telling me the time; it's time to go home.

Sent from my HTC PIGEON™, a Windows® phone that's going home. At last.

Scattered

Everything is now scattered, thrown up in the air like so much confetti. I am the confetti- shredded and swirling at the mercy of the cosmic trickster's dust-devil. And now the gathering begins. Well, not so much gathering as gleaning. I suppose I should say something inspirational here, like how I may be down, but I'm not out, and how I will be stronger for all this, and how it will be all right in the end. But, truth be told, I don't feel any of that, and right now, I have precious little indication of a happy ending.

I feel numb, very small and overwhelmed. And I keep feeling smaller and more overwhelmed.

Non possum sperandi meliora.

(I am scared.)

Gone

Lucas mi amigo, ahora eres el curator. Deseo para los dias soleados con el techo abierto.

Sent from my HTC CURATORMOBILE™, a Windows® phone that has low mileage and was hand waxed every three months.

...Going...

My storage unit is cleared out and all my worldly is packed into a 20 foot container, which has just been hauled away.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Would you believe...

...I had coffee with Miles Davis this morning?

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Going...

I have packed the car, and I'm driving away from TIOIS.

:)

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Oh, For F%$k's Sake...

They're back and louder and more orgasmic than ever.
Well at least it's only a quickie tonight.

I guess I'm rooting for them as well...

Hodie dies est.

Today is my last whole day at TIOIS. I leave here tomorrow morning. I then drive to my storage place, and spend three hours getting my 20 foot container packed.

Stand.

Stand.

Stand up.

Stand down.

Stand in line.

Stand around.

Stand for something.

Stand for it.

Stand tall.

Stand proud.

Stand your ground.

Stand alone.

Stand by me.

Stand and deliver.

Stand willing.

Stand up guy.

Stand-up comic.

Standpipe.
Standing water.

Stand in one place.

Stand in the place where you live.

Standing in the shadows of love.

Standing on the corner watching all the girls go by.

Stand revealed.

Standing room only.

Stand the pain.

Standby.
Stand by.

Standard operating procedure.

Standard time.

Stand on ceremony.

Stand.

Stupid Cats.

It's very quiet. There is no nervous playing. There is no darting under the bed. There is nothing. Nothing but two cat-shaped holes in a very dirty room. Already, I think I see them out of the corner of my eye, lying on the blanket-less bed or sniffing at the newly packed boxes on the floor. Really, I'm okay; I'm sure they'll be fine. I won't miss them terribly, wondering if they're okay, wondering if they're making friends with the large and terrifying dogs that I'm sure they will be stacked next to in the plane, wondering if they are confused and frightened, knowing that they don't really understand what's happening. No, I won't be thinking any of those things.

After all, they are just cats.

Stupid, stupid cats.

Stupid cats can't even look at the camera.