Been gone away too long from where I belong (29 days)

"I'm standing alone at the corner, I got nothing but you on my mind. I'm trying to remember what you look like, but all I can see is your behind!"

Did I tell you that K- Jackson Browne wrote me a letter? And included in it the Tom Ford/Judd Appatow spoof. Because Paul Rudd, Seth Rogen and Jason Segel are pretty much the coolest.

I'm listening to the Young Dubliners right now and thinking about how happy they make me. How can I not love the way Chaz-the-Pirate lets loose on the fiddle? And Keith Roberts, and Bob?

And then we have Brendan. Brendan is... special. I'm not really, well, there's not much that can be said about Bren except for the fact that he and I might be text friends. I actually just got an email from him -- a mass email -- pointing out that he had changed from MSN to Gmail. And when I say "Next time, 'Enough is Enough,'" he says "Jesus, how long have you been listening to us?"

Longer than most of the members of the band, probably. (They still won't play "Knickers" for me, though, which is sad. I think that given the relationship between us, they totally should.)

But "Enough is Enough" is an incredible song. I think it lays out perfectly how some people still feel about John Bull. Does anyone actually express pride in their English roots? I know I don't. Irish - cool. Scottish - golden. German - how could I be anything but?

If you're Dad or you're me, you read that as "Ear-ish," "Skote-ish," and "Grrrr-muhn."


So what have I been up to since returning from Shetland? Susannah and I made dinner and watched a movie every night for a week. That was glorious, delightful, perfect. Girl-time. We watched such classics as John Tucker Must Die, The Girl Next Door, Twilight, and What A Girl Wants.

One afternoon, Susannah and I went shoe shopping with Robert. On the Royal Mile, we were distracted by a street magician. Funny, crass, and wildly inappropriate. Oh, and American. So we were watching the show and then he pulled me from the audience to help with a trick and, uh, I like to be invisible. Thanks, guy, seriously.

It wasn't so bad, until he asked me to inspect his [tennis] balls. Then there was something about Robert being my boyfriend -- that was the second time, actually. Anyway, it was awkward. More awkward than even I am accustomed to handling.

But Susannah and I decided that he's either from Manchester, NH (unlikely) or Providence, RI. Reasoning: tattoo style excludes West Coast, humor too edgy for any place less central, accent definitely not New York. His accent recalled Boston without actually being non-rhotic and he just had a small-city with big-city problems attitude. And Providence, well, that's like a suburb of Boston, right?

Susannah and I also went to see I Love You, Man. Funniest movie I have seen in a very, very long time. But then again, I think I might be a twelve year old boy. Paul Rudd, Jason Segel, yes. I think it was great seeing it with a British audience who just doesn't have any clue -- it was obvious that when we were pretty much rolling in the aisles that they weren't even giggling. "Anybody want a peanut?" That was gold, guys, come ON.

We were walking out of the theater and just for the hell of it looked up when 17 Again was playing. And decided it was necessary to see 17 Again, as well. So we did. Zac Efron could... well, he's pretty. And like one review said, it was basically a flipbook of Zac Efron pictures, with some audio thrown in. Some Zefron talk about love and romance and respecting yourselves and.... Uh, what was I saying again? Zeeeeeeeeeefron?

I caught the Sox at Aspen one afternoon and encountered Kieran the cute bartender for the first time.

Then Byron came for a visit and we went to Saint Giles. It was pretty and had the most incredible organ I have ever seen. We ate haggis, tried to catch the Sox at Aspen again, encountered Kieran again, learned that he likes basketball, climbed Arthur's Seat, watched The Orphanage and Zack and Miri Make a Porno (like Seth Rogen could ever get Elizabeth Banks, seriously), and then went to the Scottish Museum and then the National Galleries.

That's a sweet little museum with a fairly impressive collection considering the size.

This past weekend was the first Red Sox - Yankees series and, uh, sweep. I was determined that since Saturday's game was an afternoon game, I would be watching it. So I went to Aspen, fingers crossed that the cute bartender would be there. (Just cause he was so nice, you know?) He wasn't, but there was another cute bartender who tried to explain cricket to me during the commercials. I didn't get to start watching the game until like 10:30 because there was a boxing match on -- Appleby got destroyed! -- and there was some awkward with this thirty-eight year old man who thought I had really straight, really white teeth. And he tried to take my hat off. There was another kid, too, who ordered a Jaeger bomb and then thought I would let him buy me a drink.

Toolbag say what?

He actually put his arm around my shoulder and said, "What about you?"

Without looking at him and fighting the herculean urge to laugh and sputter "Jaeger bomb!" I replied, "Fine, thanks."

And he kept at it. "I just noticed that you're here alone and thought..."

"Yes. I am alone."

"Oh, so you're doing your own thing?"

"Yes."

He just kept going, and it was irritating. At what point do you mention your imaginary girlfriend? (Girlfriends work better because it makes everything that much more awkward and freaks them out more.)

But still. It's weird; in America I have this invisible forcefield surrounding me that says, "Stay away. Surrounded by very tall men. Stay away." Like that time we were at the Middle East and this guy was talking to me and Brian walked by, stopping to ask if I was all right. And the guy blanched.

"Is that your boyfriend?"
"No."
"Do you go to same school?"
"Not exactly."
"How do you know him?"
"He's my brother."

And here, nothing of the sort. And, as the Young Dubliners say, "You know God loves a trier," but last time I checked, I'm not God and under no such obligation. So in answer to your question: no, you cannot buy me a drink. No, you cannot walk me home. Now, give me back my wrist.

Don't you know my wrist is sacred?

Anyway.

I'm rereading The Time Traveler's Wife and wishing I was Clare but so aware of how painful that might be. Hey, for true love, I'd make it work. But the more I reread, the less I see Eric Bana in the role of Henry DeTamble. Which is rough, since he's Henry in the movie. I just can't see him working for young Henry. And he's not painfully beautiful or exquisite the way Henry is supposed to be. I don't buy into Eric-the-library-man, either. I dunno. I still think Reese Witherspoon would have been a great Clare, or Nicole Kidman back when she was a redhead without botox. But Rachel McAdams will do a wonderful job, as well, I'm sure.

Um, but have you seen this? It's weirdly cute.

I also want to reread The Lovely Bones. Markie is such a good choice for Jack Salmon and Stanley Tucci is really the only one who makes sense for Mr. Harvey, now that he's been cast. Phillip Seymour Hoffman was too obvious and I think part of what makes Mr. Harvey creepy is that he's not intrinsically creepy, but it's there, under the surface. Which Tucci has in droves. Like, he looks normal until you get up close and see the creepiness roiling under his skin. But I cannot believe the man they cast as Len. What. Ever.

Anyway, off to write my creative writing final.

Peace.

(Tell me this doesn't break your heart, Sara.)

"What is it? My dear?"
"Ah, how can we bear it?"
"Bear what?"
"This. For so short a time. How can we sleep this time away?"
"We can be quiet together, and pretend -- since it is only beginning -- that we have all the time in the world."
"And every day we shall have less. And then none."
"Would you rather, therefore, have had nothing at all?"
"No. This is where I have always been coming to. Since my time began. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point, to which everything ran, before, and from which everything will run. But now, my love, we are here, we are now, and those other times are running elsewhere."