Day 16 [pt. 2] (Jan. 28): "When the shadows of this life have gone, I'll fly away"

ANSWER: This synonym for "wide" can be found before "cloth" or "minded."

-Day Sixteen-

Alex wakes me up in the morning and suddenly I realize that it is the last 90 minutes in Rye. I think back to the night before and how reading Matt Patches' Twitter account made me download this new thing called Vine. What is it? It is like the Twitter equivalence for Youtube. You film nonsense for six seconds and that is somehow justification for a new app. I cannot see it serving any purpose at all. However, I spent the night watching Matt Patches dance, so I got bored and downloaded it. I was intending on trying it out with Alex, but it never happened. Now I have it and I pray that it doesn't sweep the nation. It is fine, but I cannot fathom the world's attention span being cut down to six seconds.

After a bath and a last sweep of the room, I went down for a breakfast of oatmeal and tea. We had a fridge full of store name Coke knock-offs that were intended to be gone by morning, but ended up being in the fridge. Who knows if Viv will drink them all. In fact, who knows who is going to finish them off. We got our last conversations out of the way before heading off to the train. Viv decided to give us a speed rail all day pass. We saw her off at Ashford and after a few hugs, she went about her work schedule. I kind of wish that I thanked her more for the hospitality, but I suppose my good house guest style will shine through. Also, I left her a little something that I hope she liked.

Alex and I took the speed rail, which lead to a conversation about the stand up he performed a few nights ago. He downloaded the Rock of Ages version of "We Built This City" to play over and over. I went into listening to WTF with Marc Maron, which made Alex feel he failed me as a friend that I no longer listen to music in public. Truthfully, I think I overdo the podcasts, but I also feel like they have somehow centered me better than music was. I'm sure he understands.

We took the London Underground for the remainder of the train rides until we got to the airport. After checking in, at which point Alex called me stupid and demanded that the New Zealand Air attendant explain to me how to get through security and to the gate. Of course, the reason I looked confused was because I was following Alex, and we initially went through premium because he was walking that way. It was the start to a day that I partially wished I got sleep the night before.

We had an hour until I could be through security, so we had our last meal in the food court upstairs. It was going to be Wetherspoons, which is the first time that I got the words right. However, when it was discovered to be overpriced, we walked out and over to Viva Italia. Not knowing Italian, I fucked with Alex and began talking in Spanglish to describe Italian food. I had no idea if he was annoyed or laughing.Also, I pray that I didn't come across as ignorant tourist. It was all an extended, lame riff.

We both had lasagna and bought Lipton ice tea. We sat getting the last bits of conversation out of the way. Oddly, my biggest concern was that I didn't want to leave and go back to work. Why that overpowered my conversation, I do not know. However, we just chatted and tried to figure out ways to get Alex onto the flight. It didn't work, but it was a bittersweet way to say goodbye. We had some chocolate before he finally said his goodbye and suddenly like that, I was back to America. I was not ready to go, but the line was short and I had an hour before the flight to go. It almost breaks my heart that we usually only see each other in intervals of three years. It means that he either breaks it (talk is he MAY come out next year, but like every time he says it, MAY is a strong word, but it's really, really not like soon), or I wander life and wait for that time to come. 

Going from England to America seemed a little odder than the flight out. This is notably because I have done most of the pre-flight stuff in America. It isn't drastically different, but it is in a bigger building and going into America isn't something I do often. I pretty much prepared myself for a quick venture through security. I had all of my electronics in my bag, not wearing too much accessories, and my belt was loose enough to slap off at a moment's notice. Yes, I was ready to walk through and tip my hat.

In an odd series of events, I walked through the scanner and first thing goes wrong. I have nothing on me, but the buzzer goes off. The guy pats me down and clears me. However, the British are blunt about things, so all he does is says "Cheers" and expects me to know that I'm done. I wait five seconds before leaving because, well, who knows if that wasn't the freedom word. Then as I am packing up my belongings off of the table, another guy asks me about my bag. He takes out the electronics, scans them, and puts me on my way. So basically, my intention of getting through quickly and harmlessly took an extra minute. No real loss, but ironic since I really did try to make things as convenient as possible. 

I waited a few minutes to discover what my gate was. At first I was in disbelief. I haven't been in a big airport in quite awhile. Gate 48. Holy crap. I saw the signs and it pointed me to Gate 48. However, it felt like a tease because it just kept going and rounding corners until we finally landed at the end of the building, which was at least a five minute walk. I got through security and sat down with enough options for chairs. It felt like a V.I.P. room, as it was blocked off by a glass window and you had to flash your ticket to get in. I just sat there and popped on Operation Kino. I usually listen on Fridays, but this trip has been so crazy, I just decided to accept it. Also, it means nothing to all of you, but they have a remix clip of Patches' Matches sounds that really made me laugh, and I really hope a singular MP3 file exists. I was almost laughing in the airport whenever I heard the words "David?" or "Movies!"It is called Op Kino Orgy if anyone wants to do the grunt work.

In an interesting twist, the flight is boarding. However, unlike last time, I am the third section called. In fact, I am barely in that area, as he calls rows 51 back. I am 51 A! Last time I was 48 F, which meant I had to wait until that batch of people got on. I was on and sitting down, kind of hoping that I had good people sitting next to me. I didn't. I had an empty chair next to me. It was kind of glorious, as the lady two seats over and I took that chance to just stretch out and place our feet into the free space. You cannot ignore free space, especially on a 10 hour flight.

We took off and I almost immediately tried to get some sleep. It didn't work. I had my head down for three hours, trying to get to that point where I am just snoring. The wall was too painful, and the lady in front of me had her chair pushed far enough back that all I could do was lean my forehead on it. It was a pain in the ass to try and sleep. I am sure closing eyes does something, but lose consciousness, it did not.

Eventually, I decided to take a break from trying to sleep and watched Perks of Being a Wallflower. I get why people like it, but it just feels a little too familiar. Misfits hanging out and we discover why the lead character is shy. Truthfully, it reminded me of people I knew in high school, but that doesn't mean that I connected with it at all. As a shy kid, it seems like every misfit is somehow just thrown into random shit and loves life quickly. I don't quite see it that way. I felt it was going too much for melodrama, and it just didn't work. It made me almost glad that I wasn't in high school anymore. Also, the kids just felt like they were supposed to say the darnedest things. Either I am a special case, or I just don't get it. 

Then I got into podcasts to try and pass the time. I checked out the recent Comedy Bang Bang episode with Bill Cosby Bukowski. For those that don't know, Jon Daly plays Bill Cosby, but with Charles Bukowski tendencies. It doesn't make sense on paper, but it is fucking amazing to listen to. I was consistently laughing and I almost wish that the character had his own show. 30 minutes. Somewhere on the internet. It is probably and byfar my favorite Bill Cosby parody out there. Tim Heidecker was also there, and I still feel like I am coming around to liking him. He's funny, though seriously, I should have just gone overboard and downloaded more Comedy Bang Bang. Everything else I listened to just went out one ear and in the other but poorly constructed a sentence.

The last three hours were a nightmare. I had nothing to do. Podcasts were officially too hard to focus on. I was contemplating watching 21 Jump Street, but I grew bored of looking at things. I tried the sleep thing again. It failed miserably, but it did help people to leave me alone. It was a fucking long three hours. However, about 40 minutes to landing, a steward comes over to me and wonders if I am all right. He thinks that I have been sleeping for most of the trip, notably because I was asleep during the first meal and when he passed out the last one. In a sense, he kind of made me feel guilty, so I ate as much of the second course as I could before we had to prepare for landing.

I don't know why, but looking at Los Angeles at night is pretty odd. The lights look orange from the sky, and it almost felt like the freeway was crawling with centipedes. The orange color kind of bugged me and just so many lights. I didn't get that at all in England. In a sense, I suffered reverse culture shock, and didn't know if I could handle being back in the busy, open areas. The plane eventually landed and I felt the dread of having to get through customs. I had enough trouble on the plane filling it out correctly, as I first wrote down that I didn't have any sellable goods (which I just assumed meant souvenirs), but eventually wrote yes because I thought it meant souvenirs. 

After getting in the wrong line, a lady directed me to customs. Got through that with little hassle. Then I went through another version of customs with equally little hassle. I was now free and back home. The stress of being constrained was now almost gone. I only needed to find my ride home. I found my mom waiting in the lobby. I tried to persuade her that Alex was coming out, but she didn't believe me. We left without changing currency to American money. Don't worry, it was only L45 (just call that pounds). 

We spent the car ride home talking about the flight before transferring into a discussion about the Oscars. She is up to an impressive 6 out of 9 Best Picture nominees that she has seen. I still seriously believe that it is a great year and I am looking forward to the actual ceremony now. Not too much to share that I already told you, but I enjoy that our second instinct is to talk about the Oscars, notably because she has seen way more since I last spoke to her. We're oddly split on Lincoln, but I still am putting money on Argo for Best Picture and Steven Spielberg for Director.

We got home and my dad was there to meet me. He had dinner and we sat around talking about the trip. One of my first instincts was to get a big glass of tea and just swig it down. After living in a very conserving country, that extra gulp felt like a relief. I have been attempted to be pedigreed into drinking a glass every other hour. I get it, but it really did a toll on my body. I don't know if it was good or bad. 

After discussions, I said my goodbyes and caught up with the first two episodes of season two of Girls. The show is amazing, you guys. I probably will watch it again when I recap it (probably next week), but for the time being, the show is back, and while I feel it is somewhat more familiar than it should be, the cast is bigger and stronger, and I can find little to complain about. Gah! I need to find episode three. Episode two ends on such an intriguing cliff hanger that I need to know more. Girls may be slowly becoming a personal favorite of all time. We'll see.

In an odd twist, I actually didn't take long to get my sleeping pattern back to normal. I went to bed at 11 and woke up at 8. Almost perfect. All I have to do is maintain it and it will be like I never left. Thanks, body. Now, to start unpacking and hopefully catching Zero Dark Thirty this afternoon. Yeah, not exactly a great first day back, but it beats work, which I will probably go to tonight to look up my schedule. Side note, can I still drive? It has been so long since I touched a wheel.

As I said before, look out for a retrospective entry coming sometime in a few days. I don't know what I will say, but I probably will be taking up a lot of space. Also, pictures will probably be appearing soon as well. Until then, it has been a great trip and I love that I dovetailed this entire thing with Girls and Zero Dark Thirty. Females, you guys!

QUESTION: What is broad?

Day 15-16 [pt. 1] (Jan. 27-28): A lazy man's Fight Club

ANSWER: This Ocean current outdoes any river; at maximum flow off the Carolinas, its flow is 3,500 times the Mississippi's.

-Day Fifteen-

What do I mean by part one? As mentioned in the previous entry, I pulled an all nighter. I decided that instead of murking up the line and not knowing when the all nighter ends and the flight begins, I will go until the break of dawn and finish off the series with an entry just about the bittersweet departure (I am probably going to do a retrospective as well, but not until the weekend possibly). As a result, you also will not see the Question for January 28 until then.

Because I went to bed late, I wake up around noon and hang out by myself for awhile. I have grown to appreciate the free time to myself and I cannot just jump into situations. I need to get psyched up for the day. On this day, I was pretty much in a cheerful mood, if just because I picked the right music. When I finally got up, I walked by the living room, where I have been meaning to mention that someone in that family owns a plush version of the dragon from Pete's Dragon. I kind of admired that because "Brazzle Dazzle Day" has been a go to song for cheering me up.

Bambi and Violet were the only two performers left. About six stayed at the house and most left before noon. I had some breakfast and ended up talking to Natalie's mom for a decent amount of time about the origin of our cats. Where did they come from, and what they mean to us. I have been trying to get her cats attention during my brief stay there, and it was unsuccessful. I really derailed conversations quickly whenever a cat entered the room because, well, I wanted their attention. 

Bambi, Alex, and I just began talking about the differences between London and Los Angeles as well as just about life in general. Alex was counting money from the night before and we also got on a little rant on different currency as well. Alex was impressed that I was involved so much with the conversation, but truthfully, things have been odd and I just cannot jump into conversations that feel exclusive, like I needed to be somewhere in order to get something. That tends to be what most conversations were with Alex's friends. Not this one. We were just talking about random things, and yes, I had things to say.

We were eventually all set to go and the four of us headed for the train, and later the boat back to the mainland. Alex spent a good portion of the ride talking about his PR days and how This Is It is not a Michael Jackson scam. Sometimes you have to wonder if Alex was still in the PR gig, what stories he would have to share. I cannot see how anyone would fire him. He really does have charisma and dedication. When we arrived, we said goodbye to Bambi and Violet and took our long trains back to Rye. I have nothing but positive words to say about those two, as I felt like we got along just great. 

During the train ride, I ended up listening to Jay and Silent Bob Get Old. A whole two hour episode, which was very much an endurance test. If these shows were 70 minutes tops, this would be a really solid addition to my weekly listening. I was laughing and just enjoying the stories. However, the longer it got, the more I wanted to turn it off and just move on with my life. However, because the ride was so long, I stuck it out and kind of am back to being opposed to listening weekly as I initially planned. Still, I think that they're more entertaining than I initially gave them credit for last year.

I forget what the rest of the train ride featured. Knowing me, it was probably another Lena Dunham interview. I remember listening to quite a few. Either that, or the Auteurcast. I really forget what it was exactly. We eventually got to Hastings, which was the last stop because there was work being done on the rails between that point and Rye. To compensate, the train company hired a bus to take us the rest of the way.

Alex and I took to the back row, which lead to a lively discussion about where the cool kids sat on the bus. I honestly didn't know because I had a father who loved me enough to drive me to school. After that died down, we started what felt like a lazy man's Fight Club. Basically, we spent the remainder of the trip punching each other in the shoulder. Usually I give up rather quickly, but this time, I stuck it out and part of me regrets it, but I couldn't let Alex win. In the end, I felt that we both lost. My shoulder still hurts like hell.

Once in Rye, we got snacks and began to prepare for the ultimate all nighter. We figured that a few hours of sleep would do us good. We headed to our rooms and I tried to get sleep. However, around 11, I realized that I wasn't quite to that point yet. I caught up on Sundance coverage and watched my favorite Ellen Page compilation Youtube video, which is one set to KT Tunstall's "Suddenly I See." It got blocked in the states for some reason, so I abused the privilege. I was at peace.

However, my suitcase was empty. All of my clean clothes were stacked on the floor and nothing had the look of leaving. It became a dilemma of getting everything in its proper place. However, after catching up on all of the Sundance news, it was time to just sit back and enjoy podcasts. That happened until about 2:30 AM, when I finally got up and about and sloppily threw everything together. When I closed everything up, I was listening to By the Way, which had Lena Dunham on.

Let me just say up front that I do not hate Jeff Garlin on Curb Your Enthusiasm. However, I do not like him as an addition to podcasts. His voice just gets to me and he is somewhat of a blowhard. However, his show has had two great guests on, and they have been fascinating subjects. First was Larry David (which is well worth listening to) and Lena Dunham. Somehow, they produce great subjects, but Jeff Garlin just bugs me. It almost makes me wish that it was reverse and that these guests were interviewing him. Larry David is so great, he needs a show. 

I passed out sometime in that period. Where was Alex in all of this? Here is the reality. We were supposed to meet up at 1 AM. I was up doing stuff at that time. When it didn't happen, I began listening to podcasts. Suddenly, I turn off the lights because I don't need it. He's knocking on the door while I am listening to stuff. I don't hear it. Note, I have gone to the bathroom at least two times that night, and neither signified a crossing of paths. I passed out at 6 AM and saw him at 8 AM saying that I had 90 minutes to get ready. Luckily I did actually pack before I passed out.

Sundance coverage isn't much, but some noteworthy things. Fruitvale is the big prize winner there. It may arguably be one of the possible Oscar contenders for next year. I don't know what it is about, but I know that I probably will see it now. Also, keep an eye out for Escape From Tomorrow, which is a guerrilla style film shot at Disney World and has been described as very David Lynchian. I don't know why, but as Girl Walk // All Day will prove, I just enjoy something about guerrilla style fictional narratives.

It has been a great trip, but it isn't over yet. Got a little bit more time to go before I wish you all adieu. Check out what happened after 8 AM in the next entry.

QUESTION: What is the Gulf Stream?

Video!: Alex Doing Stand-Up at a Burlesque Show

Here is my main man Alex doing stand-up at the Burlesque Show. It was quite something. I sat by the camera guy.

Day 13-14 (Jan. 25-26): Where all the Wight Women At?

ANSWER 1: Oliver from Harvard and Jennifer at Radcliffe survive every obstacle except mortality in this best seller.

ANSWER 2: This Skakespearean tragedy, one of his last, is based on Plutarch's Lives.

-Day Thirteen-

For starters, I am well aware that this is more than a few days late. I hope that through the last stretch of entries, I will be able to tell you simply that I was very busy without having to blatantly say that. Also, day thirteen was pretty much a slog. How much of a slog was it? 

I figured that I would explain myself in regards to the last entry. When I said that day 12 was the worst day of the trip, I stand by it. However, if the worst that this gets is riding trains for hours on end and arriving late at night to watch white rappers on music video channels, then I am having a really solid trip. However, because only one day can be the best, alas one day has to be the worst. It has to lack something that the others have. Activity is the one thing that comes to mind. It was predominantly travel. No fuss, no muss. It wasn't that I got stranded in Cornhead and had to call Viv for a ride home. It is simply that when I compile memories for the trip, I take the least from day twelve. So while the terms worst may be deemed as too much of a problematic wording, it really was just a day aboard the train.

Anyways, on to day thirteen. this isn't really a day for me. I wake up and Alex informs me that he needs to help Natalie at her work place: Cancer Research, which is a thrift shop of sorts with the intention of donating profits to cancer research. The place didn't have wi-fi, so Alex dumped me at a cafe down the street with a computer, thus where I wrote my last entry and felt the need to watch the Inside Llewellyn Davis trailer on repeat. I didn't.

However, I had this really awesome cheese potato that came with a side of salad. Since I was on a sofa, I had to juggle the computer and potato quite often, but damn, I really miss having cheese in potatoes. One of my regrets is not having more potato/cheese combos.

The rest of the stay wasn't that eventful. I pretty much took time to blast Facebook with more nonsensical posts about the Grammys (Jack White and the Black Keys for Best Album!), and how much I dislike talking about keeping Star Wars alive. Unfortunately, nobody was up at the time, so I rarely got replies and my one true moment to sit around and talk to people kind of jeopardized itself. 

To say the least, I also had a weird period during that time where I read Pajiba's review of Movie 43, which I figured would be awful. However, you kind of hope with so many Oscar winners and favorite up and comers that there would be some redemption. The review wasn't so much "this sucks," but a list detailing the graphic humor. I will not dare waste your time mentioning it, as I feel that just knowing about it put me into a deep depression until Alex showed up. I mean, it probably isn't as graphic as imagining it is, but the fact that it was committed to celluloid is just terrible. Also, I really feel bad for Chris Pratt, who has been on a roll in the past few years and I almost feel like half-jokingly writing a piece that this will corrupt Hugh Jackman's Oscar chances (but I am pro-Joaquin Phoenix till the end). And on a final note, I know it is January and a lot of crap comes out in January, but it sincerely made me feel terrible to be an American and have it associated with my country. For some reason, bad comedies really piss me off more than bad-any other genre. This easily sounds like one of the worst.

Anyways, that is how much of a slog my day was. I was able to write up a storm and still find time to get bummed out that America released a really shitty movie. On the bright side, I cannot be blamed for either that film of Hansel and Gretel: Vampire Hunters success at the box office last weekend because, ahem, I was on a plane. I am still loathing the moment that I click on the box office and see if anything embarrassing has happened while I was gone. I sincerely miss keeping up with stats.

Back at Natalie's house in the evening, I am not entirely sure what we did. I know that we watched two whole episodes of the Simpsons, two halves (thanks to a poorly programmed recording), and it was a relief. I seriously watch that show every day and it has been a little hard during the trip not having access to it on a regular basis. I don't know if Alex quite enjoyed the episodes as much as I did, but I still find reason to admire it.

That's it. That's all. That's all there is. Told you, it wasn't much of a day. Everyone is getting ready for the burlesque show tomorrow and I am just trying to make sure that I don't get into their hairs. 

-Day Fourteen-

After talking with Alex, I understand that my involvement with the show is kind of crucial. No, I was not performing, but after a string of paranoia of people either dropping out or missing a few key elements, this was the big day. It was time to put our nose to the grindstone and just make the best of this task, and don't ask why. Since we were making posters on the cheap, I was in charge of cutting up cardboard boxes into specific shapes while Alex cut them into frames and Natalie did some calls to make sure the world was arranged correctly for tonight.

After a lunch while watching soccer, I was no longer needed. They dumped me in Natalie's bedroom, where I continued my quest to finish off Threesome before the trip ended. On a spoiler note: I wasn't successful, but only by three episodes. I must say that I really enjoy the show and I found one episode with Bill Bailey to be rather odd in that it was like a hostage parody set in a mall with two babies. It was pretty great. Nothing is quite up to the level of Peep Show, but Jez does get around and I am just glad to know that England has modern contemporaries instead of being "Oh, you're that country that produced Monty Python," 

We left in the early afternoon to start setting up the event. Now, I had no idea what to expect. Truthfully, every time I hear about a show, I imagine an auditorium set up. There's a stage up front and the seats lined for the remaining space. Nope. This was just an empty room and it was up to a crew of about seven (don't quote me on that) to get everything in order. 

However, what a crew. They got the stage worked out and the lighting and sound. These guys were great at working fast and efficient. I was in charge of helping to line up tables and make sure that there was enough chairs. We had to stop by at the nearby supermarket store Morrison's for some important items, but otherwise, we were looking great with some time until the crowd started pouring in.

It made me nostalgic for when I was younger, going as far back as high school. I always felt odd not doing stuff at these events. I cannot go to a carnival without the feeling of "can I help you?" I just enjoy the labor behind setting up gigs, notably smaller ones that require limited people to make something happen. You have to be self-determined and it is one of those few times that I feel that you actually get to know people's work ethics. While I plan to retire and move into writing soon, I still enjoy helping set stuff up, if just because the reward of the evening being a success only feels that much more earned.

After a quick stop at McDonalds for dinner (we were one of about four parties that went there during the evening), I was relieved of duty. I now could do whatever I want, which you must admit is awkward in a place where you know no one and you kind of feel like even moving a chair can be done. However, the place looked great, and if I find a good shot, I'll throw it your way (since majority of the shots were of the stage, there isn't too much audience shots). Even if I didn't enjoy burlesque, I had that sensation of positivity already that this place looks good, and it is all because of teamwork. In fact, I argue that it would have been harder for me to be friendlier if I just showed up at the last minute. These are solid people, I must say.

I sat towards the back by the cameraman. I pretty much wouldn't feel right sitting at a table, even if I helped to decorate it. Before I go any further, let me establish preconceived notions. I don't go out to erotic events. It just isn't what I do. Now I know that burlesque isn't exactly stripping, but the provocative factor does detriment my enthusiasm. I mean, I am very proud of the effort put into getting tonight together, but before I saw anything, it seemed kitschy and dumb. I do not say this to offend anyone who put on the event. Seeing the effort into how the show came together more than elevates my opinion to a place of respect.

With that said, I must admit that I was not really into the idea that cabaret-style music dominated the show. I figured that was my initial reasoning for why I presumed it was kitschy. The performance began and the first few performers got me thinking... this is kind of silly. All they do is slowly take their clothes off in similar fashion. It felt like watching gif images on a loop for the first 15 minutes. Of course, I will remain from mentioning who to spare hurt feelings, but it was more because their routines were just not that inspired.

Cut to about the fifth one in and suddenly it is starting to make more sense. Sure, it is about removing clothes, but there is more to it. While I do think that gratuitous glove removal is a little overdone, the performers all got more and more interesting. They had outfits and props and suddenly their performance became entertainment. It wasn't so much about the arrival, but how they got there. I began to see it as an erotic equivalence to a well constructed paragraph that teases you until... BAM! You have reached the end/shocking reveal or twist. While some paragraphs are just average, a really good one will make you feel great.

Will I go see burlesque again? Probably not on my own, but I definitely don't entirely knock it anymore. It is a performance piece and while the punchline is way more obvious than a comic or dance, there is an art to a well constructed piece. I admit some were just plain goofy, but there is a mix of confidence and creativity that drives it to a place that somehow works. I will admit that I still don't get the cat calls during the performance, as it dampened the final hurrah when the performance was done, but I suppose it works.

There was a lady playing accordion, and either I was just out of it, or I thought it went on too long. She tried to be morbid and sly, and I felt like it lacked rhythm. That was my big concern. The music just didn't flow well nor did the lyrical construct hit me right. People liked it, but by that point the bar had been opened for an hour and who knows what who thought of blah. I am impressed with the crowd, though, as 70+ people showed up when the concern was that we wouldn't even break even. I really feel like Alex and Natalie are very good at driving an event, and somehow that is the most pride that I take from the trip, that I finally have seen Alex do something public and creative, and it was a success.

During intermission, Alex bought me a Jack and Coke. Being a dumbass, his next move was to make me count out 19 raffle tickets for a customer. They kept sticking together and I had to count five times just to come up with the same number twice. It was so hard and I felt embarrassed afterwards that I had to count 19 tickets in such a sloppy fashion. 

My last comments on the show will be about Alex the stand up. I was wondering what his routine would be. I assumed that he would get a tie going and tell it to me ahead of time in a very blunt fashion. However, he had been telling me the jokes all along. I just didn't realize that they were in fractions. I knew 80% of his set, so I just sat back and tried to see how the audience ate it up. Rather solid, speaking that by that point I began to wonder if I even found those jokes funny. Not because they were dated, but he has said some up to 15 times in the past few weeks.

Probably the most crucial thing is that I feel he has stage presence. He isn't necessarily all there just yet, but he controls the crowd and knows how to go with the flow. He has charisma and that alone will sell the lesser jokes. Maybe you'll see the performance later on. I feel that he is still very raw, but he is on his way to being one hell of an MC/comedian if he chooses to continue. I cannot really compare accurately, but leading up to this, there has been a whole ton of talk of Aziz Ansari's "Dangerously Delicious," which I feel definitely inspired him. 

I know that I am just brushing over Alex here, but I think that he has charisma and can ad lib pretty well. I say that sincerely. Was he perfect? No. He still is raw and sometimes succeeds more on passion than craft. However, the delivery and overall performance shows someone who at least has something to say and an interesting way of going about it. 

In an odd way, I kind of want to watch Funny People again now. In all honesty, as much as I am a devout Apatowian, I skipped This Is 40 because it just didn't look good. I feel bad, but when push came to shove and every movie was three hours, I just decided against it. I will definitely make it a priority DVD rental when it comes out. However, I also say that because I almost feel like Alex and I discovered Ansari together through that movie, and to know we both still find him great is both an achievement for him as well as us.

After tearing down and attempting to get me drunk, we left. Here's the truth. I intended to get drunk, but Alex couldn't afford to go over to the bar enough to get me drinks. I didn't get a hand stamp, so I assumed they wouldn't sell to me. Still, I drank quite a bit, but by the fact that I moved over 70 chairs into a pile along the wall perfectly is only a testament to the idea that I haven't been drunk in over two years. Woo hoo? I really wanted to make drinking special and only do it in Alex's company. It kind of failed.

Alex still had stuff to do, so he sent me home with the cameraman and the sound guy. Also, along came Violet, who was a winner of Burlesque Idol in 2012. I didn't know who was sitting in the back seat, so I initially took to where I normally sit. The sound guy cut me off and said he had a problem sitting up front. I took to the front, even though I don't necessarily enjoy it. Part of me contemplates if the sound guy haggled me out of a seat to sit next to the winner of Burlesque Idol in 2012. I almost feel that is the case, though taking his modesty into account, he may have had a slight problem.

It was very odd driving home in a car full of people I hardly knew and before leaving talked to for 20 minutes. It did feel like one of those odd Hunter S. Thompson stories where you join midway through and suddenly you're with a bunch of random strangers driving to nowhere. The countryside was long and winding and thus Violet complained for most of the ride. Not knowing the island, I had no idea where we were going, so that added to my confusion. Still, I found it funny that Violet, who is from London, complained about most of the trip because she is not used to the lack of street lights. However, at a certain point, I too was feeling like we were on our way to a brothel.

But we got home safely and that trip is just one of those amazing yet odd stories that I will take with me. Since Alex wasn't home, I just took to my room. Out of boredom, I popped on the Atonement score and initially bummed myself out. It was really good and I was beginning to realize that the trip was almost over. Also, it was almost 1:30 AM, so I didn't exactly go to bed on time. I eventually decided to say "fuck it" and began putting on dance music. Alex walked in while I was busting a move to Outkast. Somehow I got under the covers in time, but the sweaty body and heavy breath probably gave it away. 

Since I didn't really have much internet access, I cannot really share too much news other than Ellen Page is in the next X-Men movie. Not looking forward to that. I seriously don't get the X-Men. They have all the powers they need to survive. Where is the conflict? However, this will get me to watch the movie and force me to watch X-Men: The Last Stand just so I can get a double dose of X-Men Page. It does seem utterly odd that that I am gone for two weeks and suddenly Ellen Page has had more news coverage than she had in most of late 2012. 

Going to bed around 3 AM, I knew that it was going to be the last full day together, and we had to make the most of it. Coming up next... we pull an all nighter! Kind of.

QUESTION 1: What is Love Story? 

QUESTION 2: What is Antony and Cleopatra?

Day 12 (Jan. 24): Enter Natalie, Stage Right

ANSWER: Post-medieval ballads about this outlaw are the source for his companion Marian.

-Day Twelve-

Here's the unfortunate truth, if you had to chalk up anything out of today, it may be that it was the worst day of the trip. Okay, maybe the least eventful, but it was heavily because of travel. We didn't sit around doing anything fun. We were in perpetual motion. What makes it the worst is not necessarily that I don't travel a lot, but because there is no novelty. There isn't much in terms of introductory material. All it was really was a whole ton of travelling.

There isn't too much that I can share about the pre-leaving stuff besides that I packed a bag, read my Alan Sepinwall book, and waited until we left for the train. That is really the extent to my day before 3 PM. After that, it was pretty much time for us to catch the train. A bunch of school children made sure that the train was jam packed. I thought ahead and packed on a bunch of podcasts, notably the Auteurcast episodes on Panic Room and Zodiac as well as a Fresh Air interview with Lena Dunham. Halfway through that conversation, I found myself returning to that lost 20-something mindset and thinking that she was a genius. Her dialogue is just so fresh and I envy her. I want to be a contributing voice to this generation in history, but I just need to keep going.

Also, I am not telling anyone around here, mostly because of semantics, but my plan when I first get home is rather simple. Either I fall asleep, go out and have dinner and talk about my trip. Maybe hug the cat. However the first thing that I will do when everyone leaves me alone is marathon the three episodes of Girls from season two that has aired so far. Listening to that Fresh Air interview has gotten me convinced that I am missing something great. As it stands, reading online that this may be better than season one is unbelievable, because that was flawless (okay, not flawless, but you get my drift). How can they possibly top it? THAT is what I plan to do once the world leaves me alone. Sit on my bed and just watch 90 minutes of Girls. Also, I have gone the longest IN MY LIFE without watching the Simpsons. It is unnerving, really. 

If one person I feel bad for on the trip, it is Alex. Here's the thing. Since we are staying at Natalie's house, and it will be crowded, he had to bring a duvet (or a big bag with bed stuff), which in my brief time carrying it was pretty heavy. I felt bad for him and my shoulder bag-esque stuff for the few nights there pales in comparison. Also consider the compacted train, it was a tight squeeze at times and it was a pain for him to walk through the aisles. My sympathies go out to him, though he is doing all right. 

To give you an idea of the amount of time that we took public transportation, it went like this: a 90 minute train ride connected to a 60 minute train ride connected to a 20 minute train ride connected to a 20 minute boat ride to another 20 minute train ride. For anyone doubting that podcasts are the future, you must download a few and go on a super long train ride. Your sanity will thank you. 

Still, nothing eventful for most of that ride. Nothing really worth reporting about. We met Natalie in Portsmouth for the boat ride. Instead of sharing the long, dull next hour of transportation, I will just dive into a rambling on Alex. 

I am aware that Alex has had girlfriends. I have talked to a few of them and they seem like decent people. However, this may be the first one that I have met. True, Alex did date Alex B., though I question if I should count that since Alex B. and I had a developed relationship before they briefly hooked up. Anyways, I am just going to say that this is the first girlfriend that I have met of Alex's that I knew very little about. I was hoping things would go smoothly, or the next three days would be a real pain.

From what vague interaction I had with her on the rides over, she seems like a good girl. However, I must champion Alex's character. I get the sense that he cares for her just with the little things. He helps her at work and they seem to be partners in menial tasks. I get the sense that he cares and in many ways, it makes me wonder when I will actually feel like I care about someone. It sucks to think this way, but I have been alone, mostly connecting with people on an impersonal level and hoping good behavior attracts them. I am not saying my life is total abyss, but I have trouble finding someone that I want to care about. I suppose that I apply to the 1 close friend than 100 impersonal friends policy. Excuses, excuses. 

But Natalie seems nice and I cannot really find too many faults. They both seem to be responsible adults and together they make a reasonable couple. I'll stop talking, but I guess I just approve. After a dinner where I got to meet the parents, we went into her room for the next few hours and watched TV. 

We mostly flipped through music video channels. I got a crash course introduction to the pop bands of their 90's with the likes of Blue and Five. They had a bunch of stories about who was cool and who was a dick. Somehow one of the few songs that we listened to all the way through was "It's Raining Men." However, the biggest deal for me was that I finally saw the video for Ray Parker Jr.'s "Ghostbusters," which lead me to be like "What is Al Franken doing in this video?" It was quite a trip, though I still have no idea why this video had John Candy and Chevy Chase cameos (the latter of whom appeared twice). Natalie has no idea who they were, but my love of SNL cannot keep me from noticing them. 

Then we watched AKA, a channel dedicated to user submitted rap videos. Now,  I want to say upfront that while I find modern American rap to be ridiculously shallow, there is some sincerity to it that keeps it from being hilarious. Cut to British rap, notably this white guy named Devlin. He has no real flow and his baddassery was not quite that great. While I am not going to argue that England doesn't have any hoods, I doubt they compare to Detroit. Devlin was exceptionally awkward, as he had the passion, but his lyrics were just ridiculous and I had no belief that he was exactly legitimately good. There was even a video where they had screens of him performing over England's biggest monuments and it looked totally hoaky. When he said "You're being brainwashed," I couldn't help but laugh.

There was also another video. I had no idea who the artist was, but the song was "Grown Ass Man" and it only was a great punchline because the video was totally absurd. The guy was rapping about being mature and responsible, but he was doing it on a swing, in a bumper car, and for some reason flashing a Toy Story 3 Ken Doll. Also, the characters had Lego heads for no real reason. Again, lyrics were not that impressive and for once, I felt like America did something better, notably proven when Eminem's "Lose Yourself" came on. 

Before I totally write off rap music from the UK, let me note that I am wondering how things got here. I thoroughly enjoyed Lady Sovereign's "Public Warning" album, and I argue that there are definitely a few really solid other artists. For instance, the artist that I somehow consider to be the pioneer (or at very least, the first notable UK rap artist in America) is Mike Skinner aka The Streets. I consider him to be an acquire taste rhythmically, but I did enjoy songs off of his first three albums. I figured it was a good sign of England doing the genre, but without appearing to be just a clone. Also, Dizzee Rascal, who was prominently featured at the Olympics, is one that I haven't quite gotten into, but another notable name. In fact, it has been seven years since I sincerely can think of solid UK rap artists. Someone solve this so I don't think that Devlin is the only thing you guys have produced.

We also watched this show that was essentially cinematic auctions. They found antiques from movies and auctioned them off to bidders. Where it was initially chosen because Alex was into the Star Trek stuff, I got on board when I noticed a sleestak was involved. I don't know if Alex actually watched Land of the Lost, but damn, was that an exciting moment for me. I have an odd love with that show in that I will watch it if it is on, but I probably will not buy the box set. Then there was... drum roll... the Invisible Man poster, which is a really old and really rare version. I must enjoy the irony that this has now been referenced during 80% of my stay, and this time in a very, very blatant way.

It ran for $200,000, and Alex was concerned that nobody should play that much for a piece of paper. But let us note, that first off, this film is a classic of the era and that poster is gorgeous. The James Whale film with Claude Rains. Look it up. That poster is gorgeous. Alex calls that film crap, but I wonder if he is thinking of the same one that they were actually referencing. As much as I dislike the Antiques Roadshow shows, I really was into that auction for the Invisible Man poster. It is just... so... gorgeous. 

This was pretty much the rest of the night until around midnight, when we finally called it quits and I retreated to my room, which was a nice combo of a mattress on the floor with the walls being lined with dolls and figurines that definitely screamed a good hearted woman. I couldn't quite get to sleep right away, so I decided to watch Girl Walk // All Day, and I sincerely feel the warmth in that movie now. The ending is so beautiful, which is odd since I initially found it overwhelming. However, I still argue that there is gay subtext, even though it is mostly because the romance feels like it goes from being between the Girl and the Gentleman to the Gentleman and the Creep. Of course, narration goes out the window in the last 10 minutes, but dammit, I wish that the video lasted three hours. I kind of love it too much to make it to the end.

I am not even sure anymore, and I pray that this isn't just a fad. I love that film and wonder if I'll burn out on it, or if I will actually learn to embrace it as one of my all time favorites. It is entering Juno territory now with how often I have seen it: four times straight through, at least 20 not connected. In a sense, it is almost too simple of a story to really explain why it hits me so emotionally, but it is just so thrilling that I cannot stop watching it. Also, the camera work just impresses me every time. 

I'll stop with that for now. As it is, I am currently on my own in the Isle of Wight for a brief period. Why is this? Alex is helping Natalie at her shop and I would just be a nuisance there. Killing time at a cafe called Bagel Wrap. Not much really to report other than it is giving me plenty of personal time to catch up on movie news and just check  my mail. I am hoping that next week I will be able to jump on a chance to review Quentin Dupieaux's Wrong. I have been looking forward to that movie FOREVER. Also, please do yourself a favor and watch the Inside Llewellyn Davis trailer. It really justifies why I love the Coen Brothers. 

No Sundance news, and I cannot really say hello to family, as it is probably pitch black where they are. All I can do is enjoy my time with a computer. It has been a fun trip and I don't want to see it end, but at the same time, the two weeks have really shown themselves and I feel that I am almost too comfortable being abroad to the point of disbelief. This may sound redundant, sure, but I cannot believe how calming it is to be here. True, I miss the basic needs, but it is not like an internment camp. I will survive, and I have nicely. 

Tomorrow should be interesting. I have strayed from really saying it, but Natalie is putting on a burlesque gig and Alex is doing stand-up. I am hoping to enjoy it, but also concerned that somehow I will get awkwardly emotional. Provocative stuff is not really something I partake in all that much. I'm acting like this is life changing, but seriously, for someone who has trouble finding anyone appealing enough to talk to, I just wonder how things will go. Again, I will survive, but part of me feels like I will break into a "I'm more interested in how you did that" mindset. Fuck my intellect brain.

Anyways, having fun. Will continue to have fun. No need to worry about me. However, you will not stop me from naming tomorrow's entry "Where all the Wight women at?" I have seriously been keeping that in reserves since I heard about this place. 


QUESTION: Who is Robin Hood?

Day 11 (Jan. 23):Art, Cinema, and Flexible Women:: My Day in London

ANSWER: Louis XIV's grandfather Philip III was king of this country.

-Day Eleven-

Today was that day almost all tourists at least assume of doing: go to London! I have been there before and after a many of tours, I immediately tried to assume what else could possibly be there. There was that river, that clock, that merry-go-round. I had seen it all before. Add in a few familiar sights, and I almost feel like London is treading on familiar territory. Of course, that is strictly if you only look at the world from the sides of the river. As I discovered on the hike through the city, the area is pretty huge.

I started the day early, waking up five minutes before Alex came knocking on the door, telling me to get ready. I sacrificed a shower for finishing off the Auteurcast episode on the Game, which I made it halfway through before falling asleep. I went to bed early despite my expectations of making it through that entire episode. 40 minutes later, I was out that door, now self conscious that I smelled something awful. I must admit that I don't think that I sweat up a smell, but I still have grown to admire the morning shower as a moment to wipe away the sins of yesterday's sweat.

After a quick stop at the market, we were on our way to the train. We hopped on the train with Viv,  who pretty much gave me the third degree. As dry as my humor is, Alex's reassurance that all of the jabs at me were meant in a loving fashion, I still come from a family that insults in a very comical way, as if they are too insecure to really appreciate the line between insult and love. Still, my quest to be a excellent house guest has caused me to apologize when all she does is joke. In a sense, it feels refreshing to have someone who means well and I still apologize for being the butt of jokes. 

After losing Viv, it was time to get started on my day and therefore it was me and Alex walking along the Thames. All of the bridges, including the Suspension Bridge, all had elaborate stories that Alex didn't know. It was nice looking at stuff together and only being able to say "that bridge gets blown up a lot in movies." We also had at least 100 joggers have to run around us. It really did get annoying and made you wonder who has time to jog at 10 AM on a Wednesday. Maybe the speed is more rewarding than a paycheck or creative fulfilment. 

Our first stop was at the Globe Theater, That is right, theater geeks. I went into the Globe, or at very least, the museum portion. We asked about tours and then we were out. Viv suggested it, since it is as writery as London gets. Okay, I appreciate people who are ambitious in terms of writing, but my beef with Shakespeare is more rooted in his content. Not that I think he was a pseudo-Nazi trying to cause French takeover. No, I just simply think he was not a very good writer.

You can say that it was because of the time, but the truth is that the authors that I feel should sustain a legacy are those that were in connection with the times. Someone who managed to critique the era while maintaining creative control, a'la you could hear his voice jump off the page. Instead, we get the goofy wording that just feels insincere. These don't feel like characters, but just an opportunity for Shakespeare to convince people to say goofy shit. Okay, before you jump me entirely, I want to say that I call him a hack because I am sure there is a Pete Best equivalent from the era who got fucked out of being remembered forever. Also, the goofy language is puzzling because I know that if you go further back to Plato... he didn't sound like a jackass when he preached philosophy. Nor did Homer and "the Odyssey." Yet somehow Shakespeare gets remembered for what honestly felt inauthentic, trying too hard. It just makes no sense to me. I guess it was like the hollow pop music of the time.

I will cease my complaints on Shakespeare. True, he could write a plot, but the dialogue suffered from overdramatics. I guess not being a theater geek, this doesn't resonate with me. 

Our next stop was the Tate Museum, where we got to look at different art. There was the surreal section, that I felt was pretty interesting. However, when we reached minimalism, it caused Alex to say that "art is stupid." I tried to go into theory with him about how art, but it lasted a mere five minutes as we were going down the escalator. 

As a writer, who seems to be more obsessed with the making of story than the actual work sometimes (mind you, I would totally read a "making of" story of Girl Walk // All Day, though piecing it together off of the internet is proving pleasurable), I have spent many of boring afternoons trying to figure out how the simplest of words came about. Where did "the" come from? If you consider that language is man made, you go back to cave men. Broad symbols are easier to pick up than saying "I found a rock!" Who invented language, and how did they convince the second person to pick it up? 

Apply that to art. Think seriously, all forms of creative art is in some ways stupid. Minimalistic art may be one of the most blatant, but let's go to acting. Why do people want to take on personas and tell stories? The evolution is fascinating, as it is in many ways delusional if you do not accept the basic suspension of disbelief. There is a lot of complexity to it that I haven't quite explored, but as much as I admire performance art, there is still that question of where did it root from, because until it is accepted, it is pretty stupid. As it stands, writing poetry is pretty stupid, but I still think that Bukowski is a genius. Art is the form of making people believe crazy shit. I am proud to be associated with it in some ways.

But yes, I also feel that art is not just throwing shit on a board and saying it is poetic. What works have survived centuries? People that have actually TRIED to make something interesting. Those statues and paintings were all just fascinating endeavors. Even Mozart (who I have wanted to call Amadeus since that movie... dammit) and his music withstood a time when you couldn't record it. Hell, even Scott Joplin's work is pretty great. You know why? It wasn't rocks on a floor or paint on a board. It was effort to say something and have the author's voice shine through. 

Art, in its most concrete description, is effort to explain the unexplainable through complex imagery/sounds. There is nothing complex about rocks on the ground. Minimalistic art suffers from being just too simple. I mean, some asshole put a mirror in the museum and passed it off as art. I want something bizarre about the mirror. I am telling you, those shape shifting mirrors at carnivals are far more artistic than this mirror hanging in the Tate. You cannot have an emotional connection with a mirror. It is people like that that give art a bad name. Art should be more selective, I think. Just saying, Alex's photos are more artistic than ones I saw (mind you, I am mostly referencing minimalistic art).

Our next stop was the London Film Museum. It was right across the street from the London Eye. I was excited to go on that until I discovered that it was £20. At that point, I was like "fuck this" and we moved on with our life. I was honestly looking forward to this museum, as it was in a BIG building and hey, film is a subject that I tend to like.

There is a lot of interesting stuff going on inside that museum. Plenty of costumes and relics from films that I tended to admire. None grabbed me as much as the King Kong exhibit, which was rather brilliant in explaining how movies were made in the earlier era, before special effects really made things easier. Of course, King Kong is just a brilliant movie in general. We also took photos in the Star Wars exhibit for Alex. I was more interested in the Alien creatures the next room over. I tell you, they are so scary in person that I wouldn't be surprised if it came to life.

The problem with the place was that we were short on time. Also, for an excessively big building, it was depressingly small. One floor full of great stuff. The rest was empty hallways with doors leading to who knows what. I felt like this place could have been jam packed with the amount of free space that they have. However, I had my bliss moment when I noticed that they had a promo from the Simpsons Movie towards the end of the place. They also had a great amount of section dedicated to Charlie Chaplin, which in a slower day, I would have been there for at least 20 minutes reading every little fact. Sadly, no Buster Keaton stuff, but you take what you get.

After catching the London Underground over to the Royal Albert Hall, we saw Cirque Du Soleil. First, the Royal Albert Hall. The place is large, circular, and I think that the acoustics are good. I don't want to call it suffering from building influenza, but it just felt like another big grand building after awhile. I felt that it looked great and massive. From the top section, it was easy to survey everything and yes, it looked like a really solid auditorium and the only thing that could possibly impress me about it is that it has maintained good conditions for a very, very long time. It got me thinking why we're cutting down our carbon footprints, but we cannot build anything that lasts like a Royal Albert Hall. Now that is a real amazing feat.

The show started off reminding me of an episode of the Simpsons which had the same concept of going to a circus show. I felt like quoting it throughout, but it would be deemed pointless, as I would be the only one who got it. I did admire that they did a whole bunch of preshow buffoonery, like walk into the audience and bug people. It felt like a solid set-up, even though I guess it conflicts on a deeper problem: intellect vs. broad humor. Nothing intellectual about circus humor. I just had to accept that it was a bunch of slapstick, and an odd amount of humping. Definitely seemed joyous. However, it made me realize that I just never was attracted to clowns. I don't hate them nor am I scared, but the gig, as crowd pleasing as it was, just made me want Graham Chapman to jump out and say "this is too silly."

The actual performances were pretty impressive. However, this was one hell of a day of me trying to convince myself that I should be enjoying the suspense. However, as people were on tightropes, I couldn't help but feel that they were professionals. They have perfect balance. I am expecting them to do crazy shit. That kind of damped the mood for me, so I just began to wonder what training they took to perfect it. I wanted to know how they grew to be the flexible performers who could do backflips and walk such great heights. That was far more interesting than the show. I admit that they are really, really good at showing off talent, but I felt like their origin stories would make for a better performance.

I cannot quite pinpoint why this bugged me. However, I think it is largely because most of the show was set-up to the "awe" moments. You slowly watched these people build to those moments when they are hanging from strings in the air and just going crazy. Yes, it was impressive, but after a point, you do realize that these are experts. I oddly found myself wishing that they had more dance choreography. Why am I so into dance in the past few months? It makes no sense. 

I didn't hate it, but it was just so bizarre and while I know that you just can't jump into half of those stunts, I feel like the concept of making things effortless only makes me wonder how they got to that point. To say the least, Alex loved it more than I did, especially a hula hoop lady who did up to ten (I think) rings around her body. Also, the broad humor that involved people running around just seemed odd and yes, crowd pleasing. Side note - I am not for clapping except at intervals, like intermission and credits. It really depletes the purpose otherwise.

We headed back to Rye on the London Underground. I was on a very packed subway until Victoria. Alex had me guard my stuff with diligence for the entire time. Oh pick pocketers. I kind of feel like maybe if I had another two weeks, I would have trouble converting to a life outside of public transport. As slogging as it proved to be (our train had a 15 minute delay), it just has this calm effect to know you're going somewhere, but not overly crazy getting there. I don't know. I guess it could be perverse Stockholm Syndrome.

When we got back, we had some dinner and retreated to Alex's room to watch Black Books. It was odd, because my initial reaction was "is this Clerks?" Because it is about a slacker working a bookstore and in the first five minutes, closes shop to visit a neighboring business. Same thing happens in Clerks. The show took awhile to grow on me, but it may be one that I will give a go, if just because I know for a fact that someone with access to my Netflix watched it at some point and therefore I know it exists in America. Still, a rather entertaining show and the first full on slacker show that I feel that we watched. Kudos, Alex, on taking this long to find a slacker show. I must say that TV discoveries have been fruitful on this trip. 

The night was over and I went to sleep. London is still at least a nice city to look at. Screw the joggers, just looking out at the river and feeling like there was something quaint about the city just made me feel in awe. This whole trip has been full of nice looking things, and while it is unfair to compare it all to London, I downright enjoyed it. It is too big, though. Either that, or I need to get back into walking more. I didn't tire out in a poor fashion, but Alex's insistence on rushing at points was just too much. I felt we needed to, so I didn't complain.

It was also my mother's birthday, so I wished her a happy birthday. In return, she mentioned that she has been listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack. She got me back into listening to it. Oddly, people on her page complained about Russell Crowe's "Stars" cover. Still makes me laugh. I don't have issues with him, but I need to hear these better versions to better understand what it is that they are talking about.

No Sundance news really to report on. However, my Tumblr has been reduced to publishing photos of Ellen Page in interviews. You forget how gorgeous she is until you get 20 photos a day of her in interviews. Oh, how I wish I could have met her. 

Anyways, I need to get going. We're catching a train to the Isle of Wight in a few and I don't have time to talk and talk. Hope that you're enjoying these so far and I will continue to cover this stuff as time goes on. So, I'll see ya later. Sorry for the brief goodbye.

QUESTION: What is Spain?

Day 10 (Jan. 22): "When the f**k did we get ice cream?"

ANSWER: This bluesman's first top 40 hit was 1964's "Rock Me Baby."

-Day Ten-

Today was probably the last of the glorious "We have nothing to do" days for the remainder of the trip. Wednesday would be London, Thursday would be out to see Natalie in the Isle of Wight, and by the weekend, I need to get ready to get out of here. However, as I write this, I realize just how much I cherish the lack of things to do. While the weekend and snow tampered that in an extremist sort of fashion, I do enjoy the idea of being stranded. I don't get that in California more than once every few years. Don't get me wrong, going places is essential, but there is something awe inspiring about nothingness sometimes.

Continuing my trend, I woke up before Alex and was up in my room finishing off the WTF with Marc Maron episode with Dave Grohl. Ever since I was little, I have found myself oddly fascinated  by Grohl. Maybe at first for Foo Fighters, but he just seemed to be so passionate about music. However, I still argue my favorite Grohl moment remains the Queens of the Stone Age song "Song for the Dead" in which he has that ridiculous drum opening. I don't know why, but that is my token rock star song where I grab twigs and bang pillows until I hit in time. Mind you, I only play bass. I also wrote a report on Grohl in seventh grade. He hasn't aged well with me, but I still respect him as a passionate musician.

Downstairs, we regrouped and discovered that someone named John was going to come over to visit. Who is John? For starters, he is a friend of Alex's that has spent a year in Australia. We got down to discussing what we would do when we saw him. It was assumed that we would have access to an X-Box, in which we would be playing games up in Alex's room for a very, very long afternoon. Now that sounded great. I personally didn't want to leave the house. 

Up in Alex's room, I sat on his bed while he tidied up. Cracking a window, he played me this odd band called Violent Delight that makes no sense lyrically. However, one thing that I am going to miss about this trip is being forced to watch Alex rock out to music. He is just so endearing when he does it. He is selling out to some One Direction music (that he swears is for a cover, but if that cover will ever appear is still up for discussion).

I sat reading Alan Sepinwall's book "the Revolution was Televised." To refresh everyone, I have been trying to get into film criticism notably to test my skills. Sepinwall is a big reason for that. Listen to Firewall &Iceberg and you'll understand. TV is a fascinating landscape if you know where to look. He is chronicling the most significant dramas that shaped TV of the last 25 years. I have only read 40 pages, and man, I might as well quit. He is so poetic in how he turns chapters on shows into a historical lecture mixed with significant tidbits. I learn so much.

The fact is, he knows how to write criticism about TV. I don't know the first thing, even if I do it five times a week. Of course, I try to pat myself on the back and say that one year out from film criticism for me was not exactly any more glorious than my first year of critiquing TV. Still Sepinwall clearly evokes passion and is very confident in every single syllable. I could only aspire to be him, though he also knows a ton about TV that I have no idea exists. In closing, he is so convincing as a writer that he makes Oz sound like the greatest show ever. He doesn't use hyperbole at all. It is just how he presents Oz as this risky, ground breaking show that makes you want to watch it. I'm on a chapter about the Sopranos and I cannot wait to get to Breaking Bad. This guy makes the history of TV fascinating. All I do is give the facts. I lose.

John shows up and we're back in the living room. Alex pretends that he is Tom Delonge while playing songs on an acoustic guitar. I cannot help but scream "spaceship" during the breaks to feel like a fitting tribute to where Delonge ended up. Chris disliked it, but Alex being a buffoon is still rather entertaining and man, I am beginning to realize that this is probably the thing that's going to symbolize my trip more than any film, building, or event. Alex playing guitar and singing poorly (semantics time: I only applied that to the LAST one).

John shows up and somehow my first instinct is to play Happy Birthday on guitar because that is one of 10 songs that I know how to play. Nothing phases the moment, and I am forced to get dressed. No problem. Alex and I talked about doing a snack run when John got there. I figured that discussion on hooking up games was planned out while I was gone. I was ready to just go to that store and buy some drinks and have some fun. Really, as many lazy days as we have had, we just haven't had one of those pointless lazy binge days.

We got into John's car. Already odd. We have walked to the market to buy goods many times before now. However, I just roll with it. I notice he misses the turn to the market. In fact, we are soon surrounded by trees and fields covered in snow. We are now over 20 minutes away from the market. We are possibly in another city. It is hard to tell, but the signs give me an impression that the snacks were going to have to wait.

John is a nice guy. Alex and him caught up and I just sat in the back trying to find that moment to chime in. It seemed close to impossible. I knew nothing about Australia or their relationship as chums. I was just a friend who knew John for 30 minutes before realizing we were not going to buy snacks. Also, I have this weird streak of being more of a polite funny man. I can get crass, but the amount of perverted jokes coming from the front seat of the car was intimidating, speaking it almost felt like a code that me saying "Good one, Alex" would somehow make me look like an idiot. I try to be a decent person and sound smart, but I also spend so much time being quiet that I occasionally ponder if I am just not an interesting person in comparison to someone who can talk for an entire car ride and miss the market for snacks.

We ended up in Hastings. Parked next to the beach, it was cold as hell and neither Alex nor I was really dressed for the weather. I had a jacket on, but I was still not layered enough for winds or being right next to a beach or rain. Alex was worse off, wearing close to nothing but shorts and no jacket. He also claims that he wasn't wearing underwear, but that was not seen by me, so I won't justify that with a response.

We decided to have lunch at a Wetherstones, where we had round two of a burger. Alex claims that they are good, but I still could not find reason to agree with him. To his advantage, all it took was a different combination for the actual taste to reach my mouth. I liked the results. John and Alex controlled the conversation, so I just enjoyed my burger and waited for the rest of the day to happen. We hit an arcade for one game of air hockey and then we were back out to the car.

Next we ended up at John's house. We played X-Box there. It was some basketball game that I had no idea how to play on top of never playing X-Box before. I played as the WNBA for the first time, and it may be my best round of the few that we played. Still, the highlights was that Alex, the button masher expert somehow beat everyone, and then the computer, but not without taking on grotesquely exaggerated voices and shouting "SHAQUILLE!" and "WHITE MAN!" which made sense in the context, and kept me from really focusing on the game for most of my time. I don't know what happened during that game, but it was probably the funnest thing besides actually getting snacks.

John drove us back to Rye shortly after we finished playing games. He was blasting terrible dance music and talking to Alex. The windows were fogged up pretty bad, so I was forced to have to listen to them or risk one of my sixth senses going insane. When we finally landed back at the house, we took a few moments to get our plan in orders before finally getting snacks, which persisted of Kit Kats, Doritos, and Fanta sodas. 

From there, we popped on my introductory English stand up comedian: Russell Howard. I don't know if Alex has some ulterior motive with his selection, but it seemed like he found one that I connected with quickly. While the references were oh so British, it was a lot of observational humor mixed with some crass, delusional selections that all felt authentic to the author. I worry that the show, which exceeded 80 minutes, may have suffered from my unfamiliar relationship with UK specials. Only legendary comedians who have been around in the George Carlin pantheon can dare go on for more than 80 minutes, which even then seems gratuitous. No lie, Howard can hold a crowd, even though there was a bit of filler. 

I enjoyed it quite a bit and since it is rare, I will mention that I laughed out loud quite a bit. I can only hope that Alex's next few selections can compare. Howard is really funny and I am glad that I discovered him. I'd like to say more, but I cannot think of too much at the moment. I will probably mention him often provided the other material (which I am sure will be great) resonates with me enough. Also, this bodes well with how I may perceive Alex and his stand-up, which I will be seeing soon. You'll probably hear about that shortly after, I am sure.

After an episode of Friday Night Dinner, we called it quits and I enjoyed my ongoing Auteurcast series on David Fincher with the episode on the Game. It may be subliminal, but I really want to see the Curious Case of Benjamin Button when I get home. I own it, so it won't be too hard to manage, but the amount of times that I hear "Fincher is a genius" just makes me want to watch his work over and over. Also, it reminds me that I still need to see Panic Room.

No Sundance news, as I fell asleep before I could get to it. However, random story collection from the past day. ABC has cancelled Don't Trust the B in Apt. 23, so I am simultaneously glad that I won't be too far behind in recaps and sad that I won't get to enjoy the one show that I felt had loads of potential. Also, Louis C.K. has written me (and his e-mail listers) that Louie is coming to the UK soon. Bravo! I will no longer feel like a cheat, even though I wonder if it will translate. However, with the amount of times that Alex says "cynicism," I think that it should.

Other than that, no real news stories. It wasn't much of a day besides being dragged around in John's car. In truth, it was a nice trip because I still do not understand how England's roads work. I have understood the lights for some time, but the road marks are still odd. Speaking that I have spent 95% of my transportation on a train, I haven't had to deal with drivers too often. I have gotten over the issue with different sides, but some of the road marks are still odd, and I felt like screaming "No, you're going to crash!" when he made turns. However, who has the license? The guy who was in Australia for a year. I rest my case.

Then again, will I remember how to drive when I get back to America? That is a serious question. I haven't had to touch a wheel for some time now, and while I am sure two weeks will not necessarily cause impairment, you do wonder if you are somewhat slower. At very least, I feel like if I go back to America and simple quick paced walks gets me out of breath, I need to get in shape. I am not a wreck, but damn does the cold mess with me in times of a rush.

I will try to get my experience in London to you before I leave for the Isle of Wight. Alex has no idea what is happening with that, and I have failed to compensate with plans. Hopefully expect it very soon, but otherwise, I will try to get it to you ASAP. I will admit that the lack of internet connection in public here has forced me to be observant. That is one pro for printed media. You don't need wifi. You just need someone to pay attention.  

QUESTION: Who is B.B. King?

Day 9 (Jan. 21): Blowing up the ranch

ANSWER: In 1955, Martin Luther King Jr. got a Ph.D from Boston University in this, the study of religion.

- Day 9 - 

I woke up rather late today. Around 10 or something like that. After getting ready and shuffling down the stairs, I once again found myself triumphant in beating Alex out of bed. I began to research everything, as I noticed that today was January 21. Since my audience will be dominantly American/cultured, I will just blankly state that it was a rather significant day for a few reasons. Notably, January 21 is Martin Luther King Day AND the Presidential Inauguration. I got a kick out of these two things combating each other for recognition if just because Obama's re-election (which I was in favor of) is brilliant symbolism to how far Martin Luther King Jr. had gone in his existence. 

However, I didn't notice it until BBC was on and suddenly they announce that they will be doing coverage of the event. It began to hit me. This may be the first inauguration that I have just straight up missed since the 90's. While I fail to find interest in being political, I do feel that there are some requirements in being a proud citizen. One is caring enough about the inaugural speeches. 

I remember in 2009 during my second semester of college. I had an 8 AM class. I am convinced that the teacher was blitzed out of his mind in some form or another. It wasn't long into the semester and he was already just the gawky guy who I felt people took thinking that he was going to be an easy pass. Jump just a few weeks, he mysteriously was replaced by a substitute that eventually became our teacher (and going further, was willing to help me out because she shopped at my store). 

So, on January 20, 2009, we were sitting in the classroom and suddenly the teacher just began talking about the significance of the inauguration. He let us out literally 15 minutes into the class to go out and just experience the inauguration. That was his suggestion to why class was very short. No lie. I immediately went to my car within two minutes, turned on the radio, and they were halfway through the ceremony and 10 minutes away from his inaugural speech. I should have been more aware in the first place, but it was still amusing that he hyped it so much and it was almost already over. As of now, I haven't heard or seen anything from the coverage. If you have any leads of what to look for, please let me know.

As you may have also gotten wind of yesterday, the inauguration brought out the nostalgic side of me. Remembering America as this bright spot on my dark post-high school period. To some extent that was brought up because it was that day and also because there is still some disbelief of being in England (even still, it is like "this is unbelievably cool. How did I get here?"). Also, Alex tends to have fascinating stories and all I have is two years of trying to get back on track mixed with pseudo depression (mind you, I am referencing 2009-2011 roughly). Also, none of the people that I knew were quite as interesting or involved in my life as the people that Alex references.

The other big reason that January 21 was significant was because today was the day that we would finally see Django Unchained. This is easily the only film that I assumed that we would pay to see during this whole trip. In an odd turn of events, it was actually Viv who suggested it, as we are planning a trip to Cirque Du Soleil in London on Wednesday, which was the originally planned day. Just like that, the day was booked.

We grabbed a lunch at the Standard. Up until now, culture shock hasn't necessarily been a perfect word for anything that has happened. I have just accepted that some places don't have Dr. Pepper and others don't have refills. Simple things like that don't bother me. Oddly enough, I experienced the peak of my culture shock in five minutes at the Standard on that day. First came when I asked the waiter for ranch dressing, and I swear he gave me a look that shouted "GET OUT!" but in a polite way. The other is that Adam Ant in the Thin Blue Line is not Errol Morris' the Thin Blue Line. The radio lead me to believe that Adam Ant was somehow involved in a murder mystery until Alex cleared it up. Maybe it is the cinephile in me, but the Thin Blue Line will always be first and foremost referenced as a documentary before a TV show exists.

We just sat around talking about our lives. Alex explained to me the significance of the rave scene that has puzzled me for most of the trip. I mean, it is great in Trainspotting, but it seemed to be more than a junkie's gimmick in the time that I was out there. It is because of the musical influence. We also talked about troubled friends and Alex thoroughly made me understand why Jay and Silent Bob Get Old is worth giving another shot. There are just those friends in your life that you want to help out. I get it. I guess the problem right now is that the episode releases are too inconsistent. 

In closing, the burger had a chilli meat flavor going on. It was fine, but Alex assured me that it was because it was made from a certain healthy breed of cows and made from scratch in the kitchen. Also, the infamous dog that sleeps by the fire kept bugging us during our meal. It was great, if just because I finally got to see the appeal of a dog in a pub. However, it still feels weird that the dog pretty much surveys the place like he's the boss.

We finally left the house in the early afternoon and caught the train to Hastings. I decided to be quaint and listen to a podcast called The Treatment (host Elvis Mitchell probably will be remembered by me for his interview with Joaquin Phoenix in Interview Magazine where Phoenix says that "The Oscars are bullshit." I kind of love Phoenix more just because he is honest, and no, he wasn't strictly referencing the Oscars, but the campaigning process, which fortunately paid off). There was an interview with Quentin Tarantino about his new flick, and he also discussed the significance of food in his movies. I truthfully didn't notice it, but it is quite effective. However, if you want to hear a really twisted interview, listen to his most recent Fresh Air interview in which he says that he can relate to blacks because he grew up in a multi-racial neighborhood. I am fine with it up until his belief that it somehow makes it okay for him to write in a very black way. I have yet to look at Tarantino the same way since.

We made it to the theater in Hastings and everything was gravy. We had about five minutes to kill before the film started. After hearing "Tonight" from West Side Story on the speakers in the lobby, I was in a good mood (notably because yes, West Side Story is factually the best musical film adaptation ever). Alex and I sat around in the theater discussing our opinions on Tarantino. Up until this point, I had no idea what his thoughts were. Alex finds him to sometimes be too compulsive and has too much unnecessary stuff going on. I don't know, but as my review that will come will show, I think that he has reached his peak and needs to be controlled somehow. It really has the same things going for it that pissed me off with Heaven's Gate and that goddamn fucking stupid opening 30 minutes at the college scene. 

I am trying not sound pretentious with what I am about to say. In fact, I am not an expert on western films. I have taken a class and maybe have seen 20 over the course of five months. I understand the basics, sure, but that doesn't mean that I can tell you every single aspect worth mentioning. In fact, I forgot to look for that Shane moment in Django Unchained. I just worry that my broad overview of westerns and my enthusiasm for Sergio Leone's early work isn't keeping me from seeing the bigger picture.

Let us get down to the basics. The first 80 minutes is excellent. He honestly feels like he crafted a great revisionist film. Christoph Waltz and Jamie Foxx are badasses in a fresh way. The pace is moving and while it feels more slapdash than his other films, this feels like a true western, but with a spice of Tarantino. To be broad without spoilers: everything before Calvin Candie feels like a true western. There is the sense that Django is out for revenge and he is doing it well. It flips the genre on its head, but still manages to pay homage.

Everything post Calvin Candie is troublesome. I will admit that the idea of rescuing his girlfriend is a necessary element. However, the second half IS NOT A WESTERN! It is indulgent and is just an excuse for Tarantino to give his patented long conversations that feel more bogus this time and come across like "Hey, I read 'the Three Musketeers.' Look at me!" I know it is wrong to hate on a film just because it isn't entirely a western, but even then, there are two films here that just don't mesh well. You have the first half, which is a slapdash heroic fantasy and the second, which is a negotiation film that could be summed up in under a half hour as opposed to almost what feels triple that. If they had edited it down, I would feel like maybe this film could maintain its western credibility.

Using Ennio Morricone scores and shoving Franco Nero in for a cameo was nice, but the western take just fell apart in order to try and add more significance to the romance than what was essentially needed. Like I said, it was necessary, but it felt heavily bloated and tried to show Tarantino style, as done through the eyes of slavery. The humorous first half was ruined by the second half, which really had too much going on and didn't serve much of a purpose in advancing the plot. The whole mandingo thing was nice, but it went nowhere. This is oddly the first time that I can honestly say that I probably was bored during a Tarantino film upon first viewing. 

It was also grating that it was trying too hard to be cutting edge. It addressed racism rather nonchalantly, but otherwise, was completely overblown. Also, the music cuts were poorly used. Even the Rick Ross song, as anachronistic and pointless as I found it on the CD, didn't boost the momentum of the scene. There isn't that much of the "reinventing a song's purpose" going on with this soundtrack. I don't think any old song will be referenced to as "that song from Django Unchained." I pray that this gets people to watch Django, though.

On a side note, Christoph Waltz is great and more deserving of that Oscar than Leonardo DiCaprio. Also, I LOVED the Duck You Sucker reference. I even kept myself from ignoring the film by noticing where all of the tropes fit in. Congrats, he hit almost every mark.

After an unceremonious ride back on the train set to the Auteurcast's episode on Se7en, we walked to the house. Chris and Viv told us that they might be out. However, it never clicked with anyone to give us the keys. We ended up sitting at the pub across the street, the Queen's Head, in which we chatted with the barman about the movie. Another odd moment is that Alex not only used a lot of cursing, but felt no need to hold back using the word nigger when referencing dialogue from the film. While I admire the need to quote sources properly, America has wussed me to just call it the n-word. I don't even try to say it because of reverence for a time passed that seems to be best summed up in Minor Threat's "Guilty of Being White" song. Yeah, I try to avoid being racist at most costs, but you know, that also involves respecting the right not to use certain words.

We also discussed fantasy film team-ups. It started with Kubrick and Hitchcock and quickly evolved into other selections. This immediately got derailed by talk of how shitty Sucker Punch was and if Guy Ritchie was a quality filmmaker. We also tried to discuss who was under appreciated comedians of the modern era, though mostly settling on Aziz Ansari. Also, bad mentions to Paul Rudd and Michael Cera (though as I said, Crystal Fairy is going to be one for the ages). 

We finally located Viv and Chris and got the keys to the house. We went inside and out waiting for us was chilli. Alex pulled out the cheese and we began serving it up. I noticed that it was meatless and very heavy on onions. I only later discovered that this was because that it wasn't chilli, but was pasta sauce for pasta. Viv made us pasta, and I am kind of bummed that I didn't realize it until after I thought that I had a decent bowl of chilli with cheese on it. Alex also tested me with how much cheese I wanted to use on the "chilli" by saying that I could take as much as I want. He almost immediately regretted it.

The rest of the night was uneventful, as we just sat around talking until I went to my room and finished off the Auteurcast episode. I also caught up on Sundance news. However, nothing more exciting than the premiere of the trailer for the East. 

You guys, Ellen Page is back! I admit that this sounds like a non-sci-fi version of Branded, but still. Love to hear Page talking again, and more significantly, acting in movies again. Dumb thing to say... again, speaking that she hasn't skipped a year with a release in quite some time. But... gah! I am easily amused.

Also realized that I missed the last four days of Stargroves Vlog, so I worked on that until eventually going to bed at 2:30. I know, it is late, but I was up on time the next day. I think it isn't jetlag anymore. It is my normal schedule telling me that I can do whatever I want when I want. However, it was quite a day to experience all of this, and notably find that the Imposter was on sale in the market. This feels like a big deal because, well, I don't think that any market around where I live of that scale would sell a documentary.

However, I must admit that I find it odd that I am becoming a bogus film fanatic. People loved Pitch Perfect and Django Unchained, and I disliked both for critical reasons. Kind of sad, I guess, but it is still interesting to notice how I change from year to year. I mean, I really don't want Tarantino to make any more revisionist history revenge flicks. It feels really stupid now. It is also odd that my most watched movie of last year was Girl Walk // All Day. That says something, though notably that the Master is not out on DVD yet.

Quite a day of trying to appreciate how civil rights have progressed in America through the sight of Martin Luther King, Obama, and Quentin Tarantino. It was an odd day, if just to experience the growth of America through British culture. Also, I still am weirded out by how fine Alex is saying certain words, though within perfectly referenced context. In ways, it was that moment where you realized that we were in a more progressive period. However, I still argue that Hairspray (either one, really) was a better portrayal of respecting minorities. 

I don't have much else to say. It has been one week in England, and it has been something. Sometimes I feel like I still am in the middle of a gag and that I am going to drive 20 minutes back home. As much as I enjoy England, you occasionally feel like home is very close. I am not suffering homesickness, but I do have that sense of disbelief occasionally. Notably, I just don't want to screw up my time with Alex by worrying. So far, so good.

QUESION: What is Theology?