The East London Massive was supposed to show up here this week but each individual member has elected to cancel rather than face the chaos at Heathrow.
This is unfortunate as I was looking forward to showing the crew around Seattle; there isn’t really anything to do when they visit us in Cambridge, aka the city with only one good restaurant. I think that they would quite enjoy the clubs and bars on the hill.
In the past week I have spent most of my time with two six foot six men wearing all black, which makes me feel like I have bodyguards, even if I’m the only tough person in the trio.
The adventures have been relentless, including parties and barbecues and late nights at the Bus Stop. We even went dancing at the Lo Fi for Emerald City Soul, an excursion that featured two completely novel and unexpected experiences: I danced, sort of, which was surprising and delightful.
Then this fellow tried out a stereotypical pickup line on me – which was amusing not least because we’d previously had dinner together and he didn’t recognize me (it might have helped if he had looked at my face instead of just my torso).
Between my complicated past and Byron’s penchant for turmoil there is always a high likelihood of social drama, but so far neither of us has stumbled across any skeletons. The only confusing thing so far is the fact that strangers keep recognizing me — that messes with my misguided belief that I am invisible.
The best part of this phenomenon? I’ve now met a large number of people who have had major health problems, but continue to lead full lives with a wicked sense of humor. I’ve never really had a peer group before!
Jeff says that my life resembles a Hal Hartley film but I disagree; my days include too many elements of farce.