Sunday, 13th January, 2008

You Will Have To Excuse Me, I'm A Bit Tired And Emotional

jetlag

It really didn't hit me until I was sat outside Manchester Airport, to be honest. I mean, of course I was teary at O'Hare as I said goodbye to Thau and watched her walk away knowing that I won't see her in the flesh for at least six weeks. That's only natural.

But I find that in situations like journeys, my mind gets so bogged down with getting through the actual trip, that I don't really realise what's actually happening until I'm through to the other side.

I don't think it helped that I watched a Rick Stein documentary about Mediterranean cookery on the plane. (PS. @KLM, get some decent seats with their own TV screens for your 747s KTHNXBAI) It's a tangential reference, but while I was watching it, I started feeling all warm and cosy about Europe, and the wonderful way some of us live over here — all al fresco and sunshiney.

...and then I was in Amsterdam, which is just Cool By Default™ — happy peoplesh all relaxed and burshting with the energy.

For Shure

But then Manchester (which incidentally, I love), surrounded by a bunch of chavs, who's every other word was "fooking", and I thought "Shit. I'm home".

Except not home. And not even when I stepped off the train (after a spectacularly bad piece of connection-judgement from yours truly) at Morley, and prepared to trudge up the hill, hoping to God that Morrisons was still open (so I could get some cat food)

...

I tried to write about this the other day, but gave up because I was turning into a thirty-something-emo-kid. The sense of dislocation I have, and the Not Feeling Like I Have A Home Right Now™. I must confess that I trudged unwillingly towards the flat, bogged down by an overbearing sense of disphoria.

But I figured I might try and put a positive spin on things. So here goes:

Biscuit is mad with me

Seriously. She's not left me alone since I walked through the door, and has been mewing constantly ever since I got back.

But she's getting there, and I think is actually pleased to see me. In fact, she's curled up on my lap right now, purring with contentment. So I think she'll be OK.

There are so many things to sort out very soon

I made a list on the way back, and it's not a pretty one. But I realised if I just attack them one at a time, then they might just all get done, without me really noticing.

The whole Rick Stein, Mediterranean, Europe is cool thing

There are so many wonderful places in the world, yet she's moving here very soon to live with me in Leeds. LEEDS.

I know, I'm always far too down on Leeds — it's just that when I compare it to other places, it always feels such a disappointment.

But she's coming here to live with me. And we're going to find somewhere together that we can call "home" — and we have all the time in the world to make it our home.

And I'm excited about that

...

Seriously. I'm shattered. I have a great urge just to go lie down for a bit — but I know if I do that, I'll fall fast asleep and not be able to get my body-clock in shape for going to work tomorrow.

Why didn't I take tomorrow off as well...?

Virgin Fun

It bugs me when Erin goes down when I'm not here. My sister (who wonderfully kindly has been looking after Biscuit in my absense) rebooted her a week or so ago, but she only lasted one day.

I figured it was probably just the wireless, or a crash, or an internets hiccup or something, but when I got through the door and tried to access stuff I had a nasty surprise:

No Internets

I tried the usual — turning everything off and on again, but no joy ... then I called Virgin.

Firstly, can I just say that I really hate the chirpy woman at the end of the menu system? "Hi! Cool! Let's! Get! You! The! Help! You! Need!" ... before cutting me off whilst on hold. Seriously, it took about ten calls to actually get through to someone.

So picture me sat there, clutching my most recent bill which had the words "Your account is up to date" written nice and big on it, only to be told that I haven't once paid them anything.

"We set up a direct debit for the account, but not for the broadband"

WTF?

One hasty thrashing of the credit card later, and the house is internetted-up again (which is good because I can say hi to Thau before I go to bed) — but I have a new IP address, so it's going to take at least a day for all this to filter through the DNS.

...

Seriously. My brain is mush

Here's a picture of a very big flag instead...

@Sebastian — tsk tsk. I have two other servers, but (and we've gone over this before) it wouldn't be the same if my blog wasn't hosted in my house

@Alli — yeah, cos when was the last time I blogged about being a trannie?

@Jane — I know, I know I just miss her is all