Sunday, June 19, 2005
The opposite of Hell freezing over
AAAHHHH! This cannot be happening! I am a freak who finds Seattle too hot to handle. So I moved to Aberdeen, Scotland, a freezing gray shithole (I say these words with love) that sees almost no daylight during the winter. And now this city has betrayed me by throwing a heat wave at me. Seriously, y’all, it’s HOT. It is also very, very humid. It’s too hot to move. This is not supposed to happen in the north of Scotland. I go to the beach and look across the sea to Norway, for god’s sake!
I’m actually not going to look up any actual temperatures because I have this horrible feeling that everyone will say, “That’s not hot at all! You’re just weird. Weird, weird, weird. And why are you wearing high heels?” I’m also not going to use my fellow Aberdonians as evidence that it’s not just me because they’re probably equipped with the same weird internal thermometer as me. All I know is, we’re sitting in my flat sweating our brains out with all the windows wide open and oh my god this is against nature.
I’m reminded of a saying that goes, “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the oven.” I don’t know what that has to do with my current situation, but what is a person doing in an oven in the first place? That’s way weirder than wearing high heels. It’s not like I get off on it or anything.
To take my mind off the heat, I would like to tell you about how wonderful my last week in Scotland has been going. A week seemed like so long when I got home from Amsterdam, but there’s so much to do and so many people to say goodbye to, I don’t know if I’m going to get it all in before I go. I have been spending a lot of time with Pip, which is nice because we hadn’t seen each other for weeks before I went to Amsterdam.
Pip and I have been planning to have a “Spike and Anya night” together for months, which refers to an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in which Spike and Anya are rejected by their partners and get trashed and have illicit sex. Now that I’m explaining it to you, the appeal of planning a Spike and Anya night seems extremely questionable. (Especially when you take into account the fact that Spike is a vampire and therefore dead. I swear, I don’t get off on that!) The bottom line is, we drank a lot and bared our souls. It was a good time, really!
I guess it’s been much more pleasant than exciting (which is a good thing after the craziness that was Amsterdam). Seeing my friends, watching a shitload of Big Brother, packing my stuff. I’m so glad I sent so much stuff home with David when he came to visit, but I’m afraid it might not have been enough because I’m looking at these two little bitch suitcases and wondering how I’m going to fit my entire room into them. At least on the way here I could leave stuff behind if it didn’t fit, but now I pretty much have to make it fit or throw it out. I investigated sending stuff home in the post, but everywhere I went charged the same rate: an arm and a leg.
It’s weird when Rosie or Laura or whoever mentions something they’re doing next week and I realize I’m going to be on the other side of the planet by then. There has been a lot of, “Eric, you should come to...oh, yeah, you won’t be here.”
I can’t believe I’m going to see my family in less than a week. And I’ll see Luke again the very next day after that.
I can’t believe I’m not going to be able to watch Big Brother anymore when I go back to America.
I’m actually not going to look up any actual temperatures because I have this horrible feeling that everyone will say, “That’s not hot at all! You’re just weird. Weird, weird, weird. And why are you wearing high heels?” I’m also not going to use my fellow Aberdonians as evidence that it’s not just me because they’re probably equipped with the same weird internal thermometer as me. All I know is, we’re sitting in my flat sweating our brains out with all the windows wide open and oh my god this is against nature.
I’m reminded of a saying that goes, “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the oven.” I don’t know what that has to do with my current situation, but what is a person doing in an oven in the first place? That’s way weirder than wearing high heels. It’s not like I get off on it or anything.
To take my mind off the heat, I would like to tell you about how wonderful my last week in Scotland has been going. A week seemed like so long when I got home from Amsterdam, but there’s so much to do and so many people to say goodbye to, I don’t know if I’m going to get it all in before I go. I have been spending a lot of time with Pip, which is nice because we hadn’t seen each other for weeks before I went to Amsterdam.
Pip and I have been planning to have a “Spike and Anya night” together for months, which refers to an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in which Spike and Anya are rejected by their partners and get trashed and have illicit sex. Now that I’m explaining it to you, the appeal of planning a Spike and Anya night seems extremely questionable. (Especially when you take into account the fact that Spike is a vampire and therefore dead. I swear, I don’t get off on that!) The bottom line is, we drank a lot and bared our souls. It was a good time, really!
I guess it’s been much more pleasant than exciting (which is a good thing after the craziness that was Amsterdam). Seeing my friends, watching a shitload of Big Brother, packing my stuff. I’m so glad I sent so much stuff home with David when he came to visit, but I’m afraid it might not have been enough because I’m looking at these two little bitch suitcases and wondering how I’m going to fit my entire room into them. At least on the way here I could leave stuff behind if it didn’t fit, but now I pretty much have to make it fit or throw it out. I investigated sending stuff home in the post, but everywhere I went charged the same rate: an arm and a leg.
It’s weird when Rosie or Laura or whoever mentions something they’re doing next week and I realize I’m going to be on the other side of the planet by then. There has been a lot of, “Eric, you should come to...oh, yeah, you won’t be here.”
I can’t believe I’m going to see my family in less than a week. And I’ll see Luke again the very next day after that.
I can’t believe I’m not going to be able to watch Big Brother anymore when I go back to America.
