2001-04-29

so I�m back. and I had a great time. I�m very glad I went. I�m slightly less pent up than I was (although that may not last). and other than some serious jet lag I feel pretty good. I hesitate to type because my wrist feels completely ok. I�m waiting for the post vacation depression to hit me. I'm pretty tired.

first day

don't make a connection at Heathrow unless you've got at least 2 1/2 or 3 hours between flights. Christ. what a nightmare. I wonder what that place looks like from the air?

The flight to Edinburgh on British Midlands was interesting. I sat next to this pretty young thang who worked for an advertising firm. I know this because the old fart on the other side of her kept talking to her the whole time. He had a freaky accent, and kept talking about his "girlfriend". And the cost of real estate. He kind of reminded me of the Reaper. For breakfast: sausage, bacon, eggy stuff, bread. Welcome to the UK.

I got to Edinburgh on time. My bag did not. I just stood there. Waiting and waiting. Full of hope. Fully expecting it to appear. Bracing myself against the cold air from outside. Hopping from foot to foot. Getting impatient. Then the belt stopped. The gates came down. Some lady said, "that's it". I don't remember what I said. I'm sure it was something rude. So a bunch of us trudged over to the British Midlands baggage office while that same lady, a customs official, told us we had a form to fill out. A form for declaring contents of our missing bags. So, pissed off me stood in line and filled out a form. Legibly even. Then....I got a page. My head whipped up. I looked around. Why did I do that? I don't know. Seems more dramatic I guess. So pissed off me then had to get out of line and look for the international arrivals information desk.

I found it. I had a message from Ben. He called to see if I'd landed. I looked at the girl behind the desk, pissed off and now exasperated. I was like "well, that's nice. he called to check up on me. how totally useless". I uttered something. I was obviously annoyed. But I turned it around for a second. I said "I'm sorry. Could you repeat that for me? Thank you very much". And then I immediately headed back to my line. I filled out my form. They were very nice. Very reassuring. I believed them when then said I'd get my bag later that day. And not just because I wanted to.

So THEN I called Ben. Then I got on a bus. I'm glad I didn't have that bag. Lugging that thing around would have been too much for me I'm sure.

(Hmmm...I don't know how long this is going to take. I thought I'd make each day brief. But as long as my hand isn't throbbing and I haven't got anything better to do, I'm just going to keep typing. )

I called him again from Waverly Bridge. Then I sat and waited. I snapped a few pictures. Looked around. Yep, I was in Scotland.

He showed up in his magic shoes and we headed back to his flat. We hadn't gotten very far when we saw some Indian filmmakers. That was pretty interesting. They looked really cold. They must be filming some kind of epic to go all the way to (and all over) Scotland.

We stopped for coffee. I don't think I could have walked much further without it. So we spent a little while sitting on a bench and he told me about the Science Festival. I vaguely recall something about quantum physics and measuring space, but shit, I hadn't had any sleep. And I know nothing about physics. So I just pretended to follow along.

I spent the afternoon at his flat looking at his work, which I enjoyed very much. He's very talented. I saw words next to each other that I never would have dreamed up. �Vengeance Fuck� I like that. And I really liked his drawings. Hilarious. Truly inspired, especially the liberal representation of pubic hair. It�s all about detail. So, yeah. Talking. Hanging out. Waiting for my bag. It arrived before six.

I eventually left a message for my mother. I even paid for it. I'm such a good kid.

That evening we went out for tapas and mojitos. It was good. Weird crowd. Well, not weird. Your basic happy hour crowd. I'm used to that. Ben's friend Gina jokingly guessed my age around 31, 32. Then she went down to 24. Riiiiiight. I laughed pretty heartily at that one. So Ben learned how old I am. It had to happen eventually.

After that we went up (and up and UP and fucking UP) to Gina's flat. Shit fire. I climbed a ladder thinking I was going to go out on her roof and look at the view. What the fuck?? That�s what no sleep and lots of liquor does to me. No one even tried to stop me. I stopped myself. I said �I�m drunk, I�m coming down�. Thank God I�m so sensible.

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