Enfieldean

dean_r


There's a storm in my teacup!

Well, in my dollar store mug.


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The Squid Without The Ocean
Ffuzzylogik.
dean_r
Oh, how time has flown by recently. And how little I've done with it. It's not taking time for granted, it's just the little struggles of moving and reorganising and living out of suitcases -and after a bit of patience, we're living out of the boxes we shipped as well. I love the area we've moved to, despite my issue of never referring to Tacoma as Tacoma. I keep saying I live in Seattle, in the same fashion that when Americans ask where I come from I tell them I'm from London.

Speaking of fashion... does Project Runway appear on UK television anywhere? It has grabbed my attention for some time. It's a reality show where X amount of people have to make a dress of some type, with some kind of kooky extra thing thrown in (making the clothes out of flowers was a notably bizarre idea of season 2) and at the end of each episode someone is 'kicked auf', to paraphrase the German host. There's melodramatic flamboyance and bitching all over the place, and the show presents the people in a very honest manner, to the point that you do start to like and dislike people and really root for people by the end of the season. Since the move, Jamie and I have gone from seeing the show too often, watching repeats because we could, to missing episodes. It's shown how obsessed we have got, though - we wake up and check Bravo just in case an episode we missed is being shown.

We've been waking up later as we've got settled in. Part of the problem is that we're doing more so need more time to recuperate, and hence wake up later. Another problem is that our cats pester us for everything they think they can get away with. They'll yell in the early hours of the morning for food and someone will go to the bathroom, hear the cries and feed the cats. Then Jamie or I will wake up and they'll cry and we'll feed them again, not knowing they were initially fed. They'll try this every time someone else wakes up. By the evening they cry to go into other rooms, and when they get in, they cry to get out. This doesn't involve the little quarrels they have, where poor Schnitzel gets picked on by either Hobbes or Skooky, or both. Just ten minutes ago Hobbes attacked Schnitzel on a kitchen counter and knocked a glass off there. Cue frantic sweeping and pondering as to where the vacuum cleaner is, and should I use it so late at night? Until Jamie and Autumn return from a trip to get toilet roll that started two hours ago, I'll just keep the cats away from the crime scene.

Another reason for those late starts is that Autumn and Sandi frequently take Jamie and I out to bars, and it seems like I'm starting to get to the point where I actually drink alcohol as something to do: I fear the only way I'll get to play pool with them again is if I'm not cheating by being sober. By the end of this night, I drank three pints of something which was apparently pretty mild. This amount probably equalled all the alcohol I have ever consumed before that night. I can't really say I was drunk afterwards, but I hadn't eaten much before we went to drink, so I was definitely buzzed and tipsy by the time we left. I drank Pepsi and ate cheese crackers once I got home to minimise the chances of any hangover, and I recalled pleasant dreams when I woke up. I wonder why cheese gets such a bad reputation as a nightmare-causing phenom. In fact, I was more of a nightmare - Jamie and her sisters had to continually point at a beer glass and had to keep telling me that it was in my best interest to drink, and I had to keep a soft drink nearby to stop the taste of beer getting too strong and making me feel sick.

One of the plastic bracelets Jamie gave me snapped just now. It was a white one. Up until this breakage, I've worn two black and two white bracelets on my right wrist. They were pretty loose-fitting and would change positions as I moved my arms about. I used to say to myself that if the order of the bracelets went white-white-black-black when I woke up, I'd have a good day. It's strange how easily you can put yourself into a superstition if it starts to come true in front of you. Stranger still as I can remember some terrible days when I woke up with that arrangement of bracelets. Still, that won't be happening for a little while.

To mix some metaphors, music is set to be the flavour of the month here in Seattle. We are to see Rocco DeLuca and the Burden in Seattle tomorrow, a prospect so exciting that Jamie bought a new wardrobe today just for meeting Rocco. Later in the month, we will be enjoying AFI and Tool. Tool's performance will be the coup de grace - the venue alone they have managed to find is potentially going to be (third?) eye-opening. I hope we'll be able to take pictures of the area before the show, because that event will probably be life-defining for Jamie, given how much she enjoys beautiful venues, likeminded people, and music with messages.

Despite this delightful aroma of lyrics on the horizon, I currently type in a silence that feels dreadful. I'm contemplating browsing around Livejournal to find people in the area and trying to meet new people, but probably won't. It's a fake way of arranging a friendship, when I'm already plotting who seems interesting enough to meet up with, while they're just curious about why I bothered to harass them out of nowhere. Of course, if I ever do go back on this and try to find Seattle people, they'll find this post and get freaked out.

I hear car doors shutting. At this time, I can't imagine it to be anyone but Jamie and Autumn. Time to end this entry so they can use the computer when they get in. We still need to organise directions as to where we're going tomorrow.

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So far, I've only enjoyed the milder, sweeter types. Bass was a nice one to try. They make shandy with that in the UK, so I had some concept of the flavour.

Still, I'm not used to the taste of beer yet. Typically, I can average drinking one solitary pint before the taste engulfs anything else that I drink for the rest of the night, making me feel queasy - and not in the lightheaded way.

Sam Adams makes more variety of beers than anyone else on the planet(No joke). Besides, everytime you have one, you can think of me

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