I told Stu about yesterday’s log and he said that he takes issue with it and that I ought to write a correction so he doesn’t look like quite as big an asshole. He said, “I don’t want to elope, I just don’t want anyone else there.” I told him that he wasn’t helping his case. . .

We are having a compromise. . .

We were going to have Stu’s friend Ollie officiate the wedding (was my foolish suggestion) which was rather frightening given that they have been friends since they were kids. They both have a love of practical jokes and blowing things up.

We are now going to get hitched at a Vegas Chapel and then go back to mom’s house for the reception/Nicole’s-leaving-the-country-on-a-jet-plane-doesn’t-know-when-she-will-be-back-again Party.

The best part (and this was my idea) is we are going to do a Drive Thru Wedding. Complete riot. The limo will pick us up at our hotel so we can pile our family in and then go get hitched. If we pay extra we can get Elvis to serenade us.

Stuart’s mother is going to hate this even more than the Krispy Kreme wedding cake.

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Have had a bit of stress. . .

Stu is still looking for a job, we have been looking for a two bedroom flat to share with Jen, and I came to the hard decision to adopt out my cats rather than bring them over here.

(Have had more than a few tears about that one. Mom is taking Garbo. If there is anyone in the Los Angeles area that is willing to take one or two sweetheart adult boy house cats who have been fixed and have had their shots and are big cuddle-bugs. . . please let me know. George even fetches. Will post their photos later.)

There are a few positions that may open up here at my company so the job thing will hopefully fall into place—but worse comes to worse I will get a gig at Foyles and live on £13,000 a year. My student loans are in dollars so the exchange rate would be in my favour.

Stressing about moving what I can and contemplating putting everything else in storage. I have a ton of books and I have nice furniture.

What is driving me nuts is there is nothing that I can do to move forward until I am back in LA.

So, thinking about the wedding, (which will be a small affair at my mom’s house in October) has been fun because it allows me to make decisions and feel like I am moving forward.

And I admit it. I love the idea of planning a party. I adore having people over so the idea of planning a WEDDING and that it is my wedding. . . well, it just seems too much fun.

Christmas last year, I had a, “Let’s Watch It’s A Wonderful Life” party. I found a retro Christmas apron and I made fondue and devilled eggs. It was all very Donna Reed. Of course we ended up talking and drinking the entire night rather than watching the movie and Paul, bless him, barely looked up from downloading music onto my computer, but it was still fun.

So my wedding. . .

I’m not wearing a wedding dress. I found a cheap but cutsie retro white with red polka dots thing at a online shop that I give much too much money too.

Found some fun retro invitations that I will be able to print the details on my computer. Rather than spending $500 to $800 on invitations I will be spending $90.00.

I came up with the idea to have Krispy Kreme donuts instead of a wedding cake. It will be cheap AND it will be funny.

Should be a fun party. Will have a lot of booze and food and will have music play lists set up on my Powerbook. Lots of friends some I haven’t seen for a few years that are in Seattle and Boston plus Stuart’s United Nations.

Problem. Stuart really wants to just elope and every time I ask his opinion – he looks at me like I am growing hair out of my eyes.

I just simply can’t get married without watching the people I love that are scattered all over the globe, get really drunk. There aren’t many chances in a girl’s life where it really is all about her. I would like one of those days.

Stuart just wants us to be together and doesn’t want to deal with the drama of other people, which is completely understandable.

We’ve had a couple of fun little arguments about it.

He has come around and agreed to follow through on our initial plans so it is all good. (I did ask his permission to blog this as it is a bit of dirty laundry airing)

What is hard is I am excited about planning a party because that is how I am and the person who is supposed to be sharing it with me acts as if I have suggested he get a back-ass & sack wax.

It will be fine. . . I know it will be fine. It really isn’t a big deal. We’re mad about each other and want to be together and that is really what it is all about.

(I just want to have a party too.)

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One of my colleagues at work is organizing an event to benefit the Leukemia Research Fund in the name of one of his uni mates that passed away a year ago. If you are in London tomorrow, come by the South London Pacific between 7pm to 1AM for some cheap tiki drinks and groovy music. Pay what you can to get in.

If you are not in London or would like to donate a few quid online, you can do that here.

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I am a huge news junkie. Every morning I listen to NPR, I read the paper, I get all the jokes on The Daily Show. I take a perverse pleasure in knowing what is going on and having an opinion about it. I’m not as big a junkie as most of my friends, but I can name the justices on the Supreme Court, which most Americans can’t. (I have zero patience for people who don’t vote, who fail to take any pleasure in the democratic process who don’t see their responsibility. People have died so you can vote. I think that is worth getting up a few hours early before work, don’t you?)

I blame the 2000 election results on one person. It was late afternoon in California and they had given Florida to Gore. One idiot that I worked with (who has since been fired for looking at porn on the job) said, “Do you really think your vote counts?”

I could have happily murdered him later.

True story. Before the Anita Hill scandal broke I was home from college and I asked my father (the yutz) what he thought of Clarence Thomas. I need to set this up slightly. . .

My family was never very political and what they are political about leans/tilts/crashes to the right. I never thought about politics much until college and I became a bit like Beneatha in Lorraine Hansberry’s play A Raisin in the Sun If you don’t know the play go read it or rent one of the film versions. And, you should be deeply ashamed that you don’t know it. (That’s a hint into what I mean btw.)

So I ask dad, (the yutz) “What do you think about Thomas.” He said, “Nicole I have this and this and that going on. I don’t have time to think about that.”

I remember thinking, you don’t care who is on the Supreme Court? You don’t care? How is this possible?

(Ultimately this is what is wrong in America is that people do not see the correlation between their lives and something that feels so far away like The Supreme Court or the President or your Congressman. Even School Superintendent feels removed. It’s like not seeing that smoking can give you cancer.)

So with being over here, being taken out of my rhythm of the morning NPR, not having Internet access in the flat (which Stew just fixed for me btw!) I have been floating along and haven’t been paying attention to the news at all.

I am deeply ashamed to admit this, but in a way. . . it has been so nice. I can almost understand what my father (the yutz) meant.

I will get back into knowing what is going on. But I am sure when I peek my head up, not too much will have changed. Suicide bombings in Iraq, landslides in California, Michael Jackson showing up in his PJs. Not as if Deep Throat is going to come forward or anything. . .

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Before Aaron came to visit he asked me what the weather would be like and I told him, “I have no idea”. In the week that they were here, we went from rain, wind and being bundled up in winter coats and scarves to shorts and tank tops.

Today it is raining. One of my colleagues Ali just looked at the window at the office here.

Ali: It still raining?
Jim: Yeah.
Ali: Heavily?
Jim: Nah, just annoyingly.

I just looked at the forcast for the next five days and it is rain, rain rain.

I like it here but I am sooooooooo ready to not be in winter wear. I’m going to go home July 1 and then go to Vegas to see my mom and I am going to have weather culture shock.

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sleepy lamb and big ben 3,
originally uploaded by nicdthomas.

click to view the pictures

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Before the Jazz Club,
originally uploaded by nicdthomas.

Crazy week. Had a fabulous time hanging out with Aaron and Gina but in a way it is a relief that they are gone so that I will stop spending money and my liver can recover. If they stayed they would need to hook me up to a dialysis machine.

The day they arrived we took the tube to Westminster and then walked along the south bank. I dragged them into The Clink a prison museum which is great place to go if you want to throw away five quid.

They forgave me when a short while later we found The George London’s only surviving galleried inn.

Sunday was Camden Market and I am never, ever, ever, even upon threat of my toenails being ripped out of my feet by little yappy dogs going there on a Sunday ever bloody again.

I can deal okay with crowds but that place on a weekend will turn even the most callous city person agoraphobic. We escaped and walked through Regents Park and then caught the tube to Covent Garden then walked to Trafalgar Square and then I introduced them to Gordon’s, my favorite wine bar in the world.

We collected Stuart and went to another bar where Aaron became even more drunk or, as Jen would say, “completely off his tits.” On the way home Stuart tried to persuade me to hop into a shopping cart and he would push it. I wasn’t drunk enough to do anything anywhere near that stupid, but Aaron was more than happy to take my place. Cut to Aaron lying in the road. “London Blood” became a catch phrase.

It all became a huge blur. Westminster Abby, St. Paul’s, The Tate Modern, The British Museum, London Eye. . .pubs, restaurants, more pubs.

Stu just said that my blog is like an alcoholics downfall. . .

The Producers was an absolute blast. The original film is one of my favorite flicks, so I was looking forward to seeing it and the play totally lived up to what I had hoped. It is being performed at the Theatre Royal which I believe is the oldest existing functional theatre in the world.

Friday a big group went back to jazz in the crypt at the church in Camberwell Green. Late in the evening after a good bit of wine, Stuart encouraged Aaron to buy shots of absinthe . I didn’t see the preparation but they said that a bit of absinthe was poured into a glass, a teaspoon of sugar with a few drops of absinthe drizzled on it balanced on the rim of the glass. They set the sugar on fire, then stirred it into the absinthe then added equal parts of water to the mixture.

It’s fucking vile.

I abhor black licorice. If I liked the taste I might be encouraged to do it again but I really see no need.

Later that night/morning I had my first late night kebab which is the best food ever to have when you are drunk. It even beats Tommy Burger and Pinks.

Sunday they went home and Stu and I walked around in Hyde Park. Very quiet and calm.

Monday we went to Stu’s parents house and then his sister’s for dinner. It was really nice although I am starting to appreciate and understand the beauty of eloping.

This weekend Ollie, Stu’s partner in crime in many pranks will be coming to visit, It was my bright idea that he officiate our ceremony. It is rather likely that he will exorcize us rather than marry us. I am afraid. Very afraid. . .

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