Year: 2007

Yesterday I was hanging out at Reading Frenzy under the No Talking on Cell Phones sign when my mobile rang. I glanced at the screen and said Oh no! It’s Gordon! Can I answer? 

Chloe replied Of course, Gordon is special! 

Even so, I stepped outside to take the call. The rule makes sense in that store – it is way too small to bother other customers with chit chat.

Gordon was calling to check on my travel plans and this is the confusing update: as of Wednesday morning I still dunno when I’ll be in SF, because I got caught up in renting an apartment.

I hung out chatting and watching Chloe open boxes of merchandise and of course departed with a bunch of interesting new stuff, including two issues of Craphound and stacks of zines and cards I really do not have room in the suitcase for! Some pics:

Dishwasher Pete’s Mac and Cheese collection:

Chloe gave me a hilarious present – this journal has Dramatic Encounter! printed on the bottom of every page:

Plus, China’s book arrived!

On Sunday when I walked in the Bus Stop Susannah was acting as bouncer so she was the first to spot me. She pointed and half the bar turned to look, then I was swept away by shouts and embraces.

Ade refused to let go but Rodney plucked me away then Ade sprinted toward Jeff and took a running jump. Jeffrey grabbed him and held him high and they twirled around the room – like an ice skating routine. It was simply amazing.

Rodney said You swore you wouldn’t come back for a whole year! 

I replied I lasted seven whole months! 

Hanging around the bar chatting and catching up it was like no time had passed at all. Then it was time for karaoke to start and I settled near the stage, surrounded by close friends.

KTS and Alison joined us, Xin showed up, and we blocked the view of the crowd with an excited embrace on the karaoke stage. The marvelous host kept stopping the show with glowing remarks about my presence that made me put my head between my legs in embarrassment, or kissing me on the way to a break.

The performances were as always amazing – not the usual drive-by onslaught because so many of the denizens of the bar are classically trained. Jeffrey and Ade destroyed us with a duet of Suddenly Seymour.

Jetlag inevitably forced me to leave. When I said goodbye to Ade he yelled NO!

I insisted so he grabbed the mike and instructed the audience to Say goodbye, asshole! 

The whole bar chorused Goodbye, asshole! 

I walked out into the night laughing uncontrollably.

For those following the turmoil, as of 4:45 pm I had no base camp for the summer, after several months of effort yielded no clear results. Base camps are necessary if one wishes to venture forth. By 4:58, I had sorted out the whole thing. Awesome!

Unfortunately, I left my hair drying appliance somewhere out west. I really seriously dislike going to the sort of stores that sell these things.

Tonight I was at the Vita waiting for dinner to be served when my phone rang. I knew the caller would have something interesting to share so I left my companions at the table and stepped outside to talk. Standing in the brilliant evening sun of Alberta Street I laughed and laughed as a friend shouted down the line OMG I just had hot dirty sex with a porn star!! – and then went on to describe the encounter in excruciating detail.

I was doubled over from the hilarity of the conversation but eventually excused myself to go back inside and eat, well, salad. With tahini dressing. Yum!

At some point I whispered a description of the phone conversation to the adult in the group and asked So, guess who it was? 

Knowing my circle of friends, he furrowed his brow and could not name a culprit. Just then the bill arrived and I asked the total. Byron looked at the slip summarizing the damage of four people eating and drinking at an upscale (by old neighborhood standards) vegan restaurant.

He sighed and said Twenty quid. I smacked myself in the forehead and exclaimed Shoot me now!

Last night I was rattling around the back of a dirty old band van as Jeffrey cavalierly dashed all over First and Capitol hills singing Brandy at full volume.

Oh, and I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Living dangerously in my old age!

It is very odd to be back in car culture after such a long absence. Jeff actually seems to like the tedious process of finding a parking spot in his neighborhood every night – I proposed it must replace his rural huntin’ and fishin’ habits or something, because he is far more gleeful about the whole thing than can be otherwise be explained.

When we finally found a spot we were laughing helplessly and he exclaimed Oh you know you like it – you just had a parkingasm! 

The jetlag had kicked in big time before I finished eating dinner so my memories of the hipster bar (something new next to Top Pot?) are dim at best, aside from meeting Jeff’s Hot New Girlfriend. My goodness! They are so incredibly cute!

He won our Have a Crush on Someone Good for You for Once bet, absolutely.

Then Soul Night at the Lo Fi, anyone? Fun! Though walking down the hill I realized I was just too tired and had to bid my friends farewell at the door.

Earlier in the evening Mark Mitchell tried to figure out what my overall schedule is this summer and I cheerfully replied I have no idea! There is a funeral one weekend, and beyond that, I have made no plans! 

There was a flummoxed pause and he answered You foolish, foolish girl! 

True. Though half my friends are world-class flakes, those who might be described otherwise have complicated schedules, and a few people have gone mysteriously silent. My public administrator brain can’t really differentiate between the possible reasons for lack of planning on the part of other humans so I have to assume that if people wanna see me, they’ll make an effort to do so.

If not, oh well…. it isn’t like I lack for invitations!

Speaking of which, my day is filling fast with breakfast, lunch, and dinner dates, not to mention the sheer genius of Ade in the evening. And I can see the Puget Sound from where I’m sitting. This city drives me crazy and fills my heart with joy.

My pal Dishwasher Pete will be on Letterman next Friday…. and this time he actually plans to show up instead of sending an imposte!

In other news, I realized that my stateside sim card went walkabout. Goodbye, NYC phone number! Real-life friends: I’ll have a new number later this weekend. The UK number works in the meanwhile, or you can catch me on the back channels…. presumably you know those numbers!

Last night I crashed a librarian leaving do (as the British call these things) for Sarah as that was the only way I would get to say goodbye in person before she moves back to the states.

After the real grown-ups left Byron turned up and we three had a rollicking conversation about various sketchy episodes in our pasts. This included a story about an underage Arasay buying tequila for a Gordon birthday party, under the influence of someone known to piss in the crisper drawer.

Since Byron knew me back in the day he helpfully told the story that summarizes why I do not drink rum. Though he didn’t get as far as the reason I won’t touch whiskey!

Sarah and I are both the practical sort so much of the chit chat was about the quandaries of splitting bills in community houses. Remember when phone calls actually cost a lot of money? And there was always one housemate who would deny all knowledge of calls placed to their hometown?

Oh, how hilarious at a distance of a couple of decades!

I didn’t take many notes but there was more racy chit chat than I would normally expect when hanging out with Sarah. She made a few points I won’t repeat then asked How do you feel about middle aged meat? 

When she saw me whip out my notebook she commented I can’t believe I just said that! 

Gordon introduced me to Sarah before I relocated here and she was endlessly helpful. Her knowledge of the technical parts of the process of emigrating, and her practical understanding of life in Cambridge, made a huge difference as I moved.

After I arrived she proved to be a hilarious and deeply entertaining companion. Over the course of these three years we haven’t spent nearly enough time together, but when we have it has been entirely rewarding. I mean really – I’ve never had ladychat with anyone else in my whole life!

Beyond that, she has contributed to my professional life in a startling and deeply appreciated manner by advocating for Lessons in Taxidermy as a respected librarian in two different countries.

It has been an honor to know her and to watch her family grow. We’ll be friends after she goes back to California – I’ll probably even see her this summer. But Cambridge will not be the same.

Goodbye, Sarah. I’ll miss you!

Guess who will coincidentally be in Seattle this weekend? Hmm?? KTS!!! I may pass out from lack of oxygen cause I’ll be laughing so much.

Jeffrey joined the opera; how awesome is that? If you are in the NW you can see him sing chorus in the Flying Dutchman this August.

Today I was telling Byron about an exasperating social situation and he rolled his eyes and asked What does Gordon think?

I answered Gordon is pro-chaos! 

He replied Great. I agree with Gordon. In fact, how about you assume I agree with whatever he says, and skip telling me! 

I furrowed my brow. Do you really think it advisable to appoint a San Francisco cheesemonger my sole confidante? 

His answer was instant: Yes! 

That might be interesting, though I really doubt that Gordon wishes to hear all of the random stuff burbling around in my brain. Though recently he said If you ever get rich and famous enough to hire an entourage, I call dibs on the position of your personal social interpreter. 

I replied I definitely need an interpreter. But how would you signal things? Winks, sign language, cue cards? 

He replied Microphone implants in our skulls. 

My answer: Trepanation! One of my favorite things EVER!

I forgot to mention the fete to Jean, assuming he would not want to attend, but then sent a brief message just as the festivities started. Imagine my surprise when he showed up minutes later!

We made a circuit of the various booths, including Toss a Teddy and Throw a Sponge at My Face. Then we abandoned my child with the industrious and appropriate parent who actually wanted to run his stall (Throw Tennis Balls at Plastic Cups) and dragged chairs into the shade.

It has been quite wet here lately so the legs of the chairs sank slowly into the muddy field as we caught up; we haven’t spoken since mid-March so there was a lot to cover!

Jean is endlessly entertaining, and his conversation is littered with words like plangent. This is fun for me, though sometimes annoying to other people, who make him stop and explain. I can provide the dictionary definition, but he alway reports the Latin (or other language) root of whichever piece of vocabulary troubles the audience, then we laugh and laugh.

For the most part I just listened to the concerns and quandaries of this ever so debonair and cosmopolitan young man, but eventually he paused and said And what of you? 

I would have shrugged, but remembered that I am officially Sharing and Relating these days, so I gave him a four sentence summary of my recent and potential adventures. He blinked and remarked That is complicated – my life is by comparison quite conventional!

Not exactly true, but interesting perspective nonetheless. Eventually we were joined by a couple of unexpected people (they are fans of fetes, not connected to the school), then my elder child showed up, and the younger one wandered over holding a toy car made out of raw onion.

Someone walked up with a charity bucket and explained that their friend was attempting to break a world record and raise money by Crawling for Cancer. We looked the way she was pointing, and sure enough, a middle-aged academic was slowly and painfully crawling past.

Jean said Tell your friend that is simply appalling! We do not approve! Though since we both have cancer, we’ll contribute. 

The person holding the bucket was quite unnerved but then gleeful when we emptied our pockets.

Near the time to leave one of the people who lives on Drunk Bench decided to join our group, first chatting with my son about his Onion Car.

My kid does not talk to, um, almost anyone, let alone strangers swigging from bottles of rum, so that one didn’t go very well.

The fellow started to dance around, growling at children and shouting Rascals! Rascals! I’m known all over England! I’m the ruler of England! 

The afternoon was in fact a very good representation of life in Cambridge.

The other day I was reading a detective novel and knew who the villain would be within the first twenty pages. Not because it was obvious – the book was cleverly constructed. I predicted the resolution of the plot because someone I know once attempted to execute the same crime.

Presumably he borrowed the idea from this book.

He was not an especially clever criminal, and that is why he is serving a life sentence for murdering his wife.

I grew up in a place – and family – where murder was common. This fact is not explored in Lessons in Taxidermy because my editor felt that the bloodshed was excessive: two whole chapters of mayhem were chopped off the manuscript as it went to press.

My agent doesn’t know or she would probably try to convince me to write a murder memoir.

This would not be advisable, since certain people of my acquaintance would take offense and they are not the sort to limit their response to a frosty letter.

My life is so, well, improbable.