Sinister: my wandering days are over... part 1

[stacey dahling]

Hey you lovelies!
So I have returned to Greece after 21 days drifting across the UK, having 
innumerable pints with several of you lot. It’s weird being back. I thought 
I’d be really tired. But I’m anxious. To do things, or for things to be 
done, to change. I’ve changed, I think. And things are definitely different 
here. I feel like I’ve been living in some alternate universe for the past 
three weeks. It seemed unreal. Yet natural. And for some reason I feel I 
must document it all for you. I don’t know why. Well, some of it is 
entertaining I suppose. A glimpse into what some of these faceless names are 
really like, perhaps.
I’m afraid three weeks worth of my misadventures will take forever to 
recount. I considered simply posting a link to journal entries that I would 
put up on my personal web site, but quickly decided against that, since my 
family reads that and I can’t possibly be honest with them nosing around. 
Not that I will be completely honest with you lot either, because you are 
now involved.
I will post in parts, I think, beginning with a synopsis with LISTS, which 
everyone appreciates, I think, in today’s low attention span world, and a 
link to PHOTOS hidden within to make you read at least halfway through. 
Evil, eh?

Who I met (it reads like a mafia line-up, don’t it?):
* = photographic evidence

Paul “gingerfox” Field *
Nicholas “passant” Horne *
Ken “the juggler” Chu
Dafyd Strange *
James … *
Elenita and her dancing roomie whose name I forget but boy could he move
Will “gneissy” Salt *
Jeremy “breams” Tweddle *
Princess Honey
Duchess Linda
Sweetie *
Richard Gillanders *
Gavin “king of partick” Dunbar, Jo and Lynn
Rachel “sunnyset”
Ally “the lad” Cook *
Carey *
Calumn *
Gordon “rouss”
Joss
Dudley
Yokojo
Sarahluv
“sleepy” Kev Bishop *
Madeline “lolly” McNeil *
Stoo and his Sheffield possee: Kaytee, Mikey, Rhys and a boy named Nigel
Lucy, Chris and Jim with purple trousers?
My longtime pen pal and sometimes listee Ian Thompson

Sightings:
Harry
London Martin

My contributions:

Two cartons of cigarettes
Four bottles of Lesbian ouzo
Several cheesy postcards
Home fries
Homemade pasta sauce
Lots of toast and honey (and some lemon curd)
A fantastic new caramelized banana sauce concoction I made up in London
…and of course my stellar company and amusing American accent (with a few 
choice ghetto saying thrown in for fun)

Three weeks and several hundred dollars later I returned with:

14 new CDs
10 new tapes (including a QUALITY hip hop compilation from 10 years ago and 
a double cassette set of 1980s hits that features Bon Jovi alongside Aretha 
Franklin; not itemized to avoid wholesale ridicule)
14 new books (itemized list to follow)
1 pair new strappy brown GIRLIE shows with heels
1 bright red track sweatshirt/cardigan thingie and 1 pale yellow terry cloth 
v-neck collared shirt, both circa 1970 or thereabouts
1 jar of lemon curd
1 jack daniels whiskey glass
30 digital photos (censored collection available online at: 
www.geocities.com/dahling007/photos6.htm (takes forever to load) or at 
http://photos.yahoo.com/dahling 007, album “sinister”)
1 very sore throat
…and tons of new friends. Awwww

Since I know there are many fine librarian and book buffs among you who are 
itching to know titles, here they are. (Also, if anyone else wants to start 
a book group, drop me a line. It might actually force me to read them all)

Henry James: The Golden Bowl
W. Somerset Maugham: Of Human Bondage
Hunter S. Thompson: The Great Shark Hunter
James Joyce: Ulysses
Mona Simpson: A Regular Guy
Gabriel Garcia Marquez: News of a Kidnapping
Richard Brautigan: Sombero Fallout
Hanif Kureishi: The Buddha of Suburbia
Alex Garland: The Beach
Garrison Keillor: Lake Wobegan Days
Alisdair Gray: Lanark: A Life in Four Books
Gunter Grass: The Tin Drum
Dave Eggers: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Louise Erdich: The Beet Queen

Also, Maddie, aware of the amount of heavy reading I now have before me, 
generously supplied me with a copy of Valley of the Dolls. And to make my 
load that much heavier, I stocked up on a bunch of lovely (HEAVY) art books. 
Piet Mondrian. Mmmm.

Highlights:
I tasted IrnBru, vodka and Red Bull, a fried Mars bar, Jaffa cakes, tons of 
chips and cheese, Burger King veggie burgers, weird candy (mint Aero bars = 
yum!) and lemon curd. I sampled a wide variety of local brews and um… upped 
my tolerance at least three notches. I sat on the top of a double-decker 
bus, and rode is several funky old-fashioned black taxis. I got terribly 
lost with a large green backpack. I went to four gigs - saw Joan of Arse, 
The Dudley Corporation, the Lucksmiths, Airport Girl, Jonathan Richman and 
Trembling Blue Stars - and three “indie nights,” including a Gav DJ set, a 
Mikey DJ set and Track and Field (were any of you there last Friday?). I 
danced. I got silly drunk. I flew and kicked around a garden and collapsed 
in a park. I slept with another listee - but no shags, despite rumors to the 
contrary. I walked in the rain - a lot. I walked along the Thames, admired 
art, had a mini sinister picnic in a park and discovered conkers. I saw a 
high-rise with a special continuously moving circuit elevator. I watched a 
game of pool at 4 a.m. in the stuffy second-floor waiting room of a cab 
company. I stayed up till 3 a.m. baring my soul - several times. I took 
unexpected walks in the woods and traipsed happily through mud and fallen 
autumn leaves. I was attacked by a wooly cow. I challenged two people to 
Scrabble and lost terribly. I saw Ken do some amazing DDR moves. I was 
pummeled with pillows and lost a brutal tickle fight. Weird boys tried to 
pick me up. Others asked me directions. I got no snogs but lots of hugs and 
cuddles.

For a more detailed account, continue to part two. Otherwise, delete the 
next two posts.

~dahling

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