Prelude to departure, part 2


I don’t mind having nightmares, if it means I’ve been able to sleep!

I thought I’d better write this tonight, in the probably vain hope that I’ll actually sleep tonight and won’t give up at 7am and get up to write this dreck at that time instead, as happened in the blog post to which this is a sequel.  Once again I’m preparing for a trip to the United States, and I’m tense about the journey, even though this time it should be much easier than before: for example, I’m going somewhere I’ve been several times before, my old roommate’s family home in Fenton, MI, rather than some completely strange place like last year.  I’m also getting picked up at the airport, rather than having to wait ages for a connecting bus to a hotel (I’ll never forget that particular ordeal — I was dead on my feet!).

And yet, as is traditional for me on these occasions, I feel a certain uneasiness: that I’ll get to the airport only to be told I can’t travel for some reason.  It’s ridiculous, because I’ve checked and the visa waiver I got for last year’s trip is valid until next February and can be used for multiple entries into the USA, but just to make sure, I updated my details with them as recommended.  Oh, maybe the flight itself will suck (more than likely, since I wasn’t in time to choose a seat online and so will doubtless end up stuck in the middle of a row), and maybe I’ll have a rerun of my visit to Michigan in 2007, when TWO connecting flights from Detroit got cancelled due to mechanical issues (the third plane they laid on also had a problem, but they took us up in it anyway), but I think I can handle these things — for some reason, the thought of not even being able to get on the initial flight is the worst thing I can imagine right now, because it’d mean I couldn’t see my friends, and my money would be wasted!

A “nice” link to my previous holiday is that local politics in Barnet is once again going through changes just as I’m about to go away.  Last year it was Brian Coleman pleading guilty for attacking a nice café owner, after insisting he was innocent and being protected by the local Conservatives right to the very end; as I said, he’s completely gone after the local elections last month.  However, although we didn’t vote out the Conservatives, the political landscape of Barnet has changed; and yet the council has managed to screw up quite badly, not reorganising its committees to represent the newly-elected proportions of the various political parties, and so technically they aren’t allowed to make any decisions and we thus have no local government.  Brilliant, aren’t they?  Worth every penny…

Perhaps that’s what I’m so worried about: I’ll come back to find rioting, burned-out police cars, water cannons… or maybe everything will just carry on as before, seeing as Capita, who now run almost all our public services in Barnet, do no more than pay lip service to democracy anyway!

(On the flip side, I’m completely unconcerned about my job at another London borough council, because frankly I’ve had too little to do as it is — and the annoying woman will be moving to the new building on 4th July anyway, so I’ll be rid of her for my final few weeks!)

But there’s been problems even closer to home, which is to say, physically inside the building.  My drummer housemate, the guy effectively in charge (in that we pay him to pay our bills), has been relatively all right recently, apart from one particularly nasty incident: he’d moved some washing off a rack (allegedly because it had been there for several days) and left it in a pile on the kitchen table, and the passionate Turkish girl who lives at the back of the house, to whom it belonged, was very unhappy with him for showing this “lack of respect”.  The argument erupted into a screaming match, which touched on issues such as how he hogs the lounge in the evenings (hence we can’t dry washing in there because it gives him a headache), and keeps his drumkit in there, yet he only pays rent for the tiny room in which he sleeps, and whether she should thus have to take turns cleaning the lounge when it’s his sole preserve.  He replied in a similar manner that she should move out because there are plenty of people “better than her” waiting to move in; it’s the only time I’ve seen him truly angry (rather than incredibly smug, snide, or occasionally “sort of” serious), and it was not a pleasant experience.

The whole sorry incident reminded me of how my Irish housemate in 2005-6 used to have screaming rows with his live-in girlfriend, even though they were getting married and going to her native Australia (yes, they got divorced later, though he still lives over there).  I don’t remember my parents getting divorced (indeed, I have no memory of my father whatsoever — hence my desire to track him down later this year), but I imagine it would have felt similar to hear them arguing with each other and just wanting it to be over…

Oh, and Schrödinger’s Fridge has failed again — or rather, the fridge part of it has, not the freezer (so, much like the cat after which I’ve blithely named it, it really is dead and alive at the same time!).  The landlady’s finally ordering a replacement (I assume the aforementioned drummer housemate vetoed it the last time), but even though I hoped to be away for this, she’s insisted on getting it delivered when I’m back… I’ve been either eating out or buying ready-made stuff to eat for the past few days, though this is more because I’m going away and so don’t want to leave anything behind that will “go off”.  This at least happens to me even if I’m only going to Worthing to visit my folks, so it’s no big deal!

(And right on cue, our Virgin Media cable Internet connection has a hissy fit for absolutely no reason — enough of these unicast maintenance ranging errors, I’m going to have to take charge of the connection from my drummer housemate when I return, so I can call them out on their useless service!)

Anyway, that’s that; what else is there to say before I go away?  Hey, it’s only a week, I’ve failed to post in this blog for longer periods than that, even without the excuse of a holiday!  But don’t worry, this is (once again) not the end of “Dave-ros Lives!” — I still need to write about various things (I’m planning a “cool things” post about Duke Nukem), and keep you up to date with my self-improvement progress.  To put it another way:




One thought on “Prelude to departure, part 2

  1. Pingback: Prelude to departure, part 94: the longest shortest night | Dave-ros Lives!

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