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delirium happy

Just keep on trying till you run out of cake

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Holiday planning
hiding, cousin it
People in America have a tendency to nag at me to go visit them. I have always ummed and ahed at such offers, making vague statements about how yes maybe I will do at some point, but never actually doing so. There have been two main reasons for this:

1. My general mental health. If I can't stand to be around people for more than three minutes at a time before wanting to hole up in my bedroom and assume the foetal position, then being on the other side of the Atlantic from my bedroom is possibly not the best of ideas.

2. Having a passport that has an F on it when I looked more like an M. In all probability, this wouldn't have been a problem, but I have been paranoid about it. In my mind, all it would take would be one turd of a security guard to make life really unpleasant for me, in numerous ways.

A while ago, when I was thinking to myself "come on Walmsley you great muppet, sort your life out already" I subverted these fears to use as a carrot. I decided that when I had got my life to the point where I was capable of being around people without having a nervous breakdown, and wasn't endlessly paranoid about my appearance, that I should reward myself with a trip abroad.

As such, when it was suggested that I should visit the USA most recently, I was reminded of this, and my reaction was along the lines of "actually, that's a jolly good idea".

My basic idea is that I will try to make a proper trip of it, spending a couple of months over there, seeing as many things and doing as many people as I can. Just going to visit one person for a couple of weeks or so may be a saner option, but one long trip seems more economically sound than several short trips.

I already have offers of places to stay in Massachusetts and in Oregon. good job people, way to live as far apart as possible. There's also at least one other person who I suspect will hit me with sticks to visit and then never forgive me if I don't, who is also in Massachusetts.

My original thought was that I would fly from here to somewhere on the west coast – probably San Francisco – then head to Oregon and make my base of operations with my friend for a couple of weeks or so. I would then travel overland to the east coast (Oregonian friend has suggested the possibility of her chauffeuring me the first part of the way), hopefully finding various people to visit and crash with along the way, before collapsing in Massachusetts for a couple of weeks or so. I would then fly back home, possibly after another, shorter, overland trip part of the way down the east coast.

After further consideration, I'm not certain that this will be the best way of working things, for two reasons.

1. I'm thinking I'd probably want to go around early to mid September, since plane tickets then are about a zillion times cheaper than if I try to go in summer. If I'm staying over there for two months, that means staying until early to mid November, and I know that New England gets cold during the winter, whereas I think Oregon is much milder.

2. The flight from here to SF would suck balls. For one thing, I'd be on a plane for about 15 hours or something. For another, direct flights aren't really an option. I could fly direct from Heathrow to San Francisco but it would cost significantly more than two connecting flights, and Heathrow is also much less convenient for me to fly from than Manchester. (Going to SEA or LAX wouldn't be any better than going to SFO, before anyone suggests them.)

Since most of the flights that I checked seemed to want me to change in Philadelphia anyway, I figured why not do it that way. That is: fly into Boston, potter around on the east coast for a bit, fly over to the west coast, potter around there for a bit, then go on a bit of a road trip that need not necessarily get me all the way back to the east coast (but would have to be planned beforehand, obviously) and the fly back home.

So questions:

1. What am I missing? I'm sure there must be numerous things that I've not considered. Enlighten me. Help me plan.
2. Who would want to see me? And who would be able to offer me a bed for a night, or longer?

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I've got Boston handled. We live in Cambridge and have a wonderful three-bedroom flat with two futons in the front room. The upstairs guys use it as a fourth bedroom, but we don't. However, we've done it for months on end before so it's no problem now.

Out of idle curiosity, where (in general terms) do you live? I have fond memories of briefly living in Central Square as a child...

Cambridgeport, not far from Dana Park, near Putnam Avenue and Magazine Street.

That's strikingly close to where I used to live in Brighton.

(Don't mind me. I always get all excited and "OMG small world" whenever I find someone in the area via the internetz.)

You poor thing. You had to live in B.U.-ville?

I did go to BU for a while. We used to refer to it as "the BU ghetto". But the part I lived in (it was right off Brighton Ave on...some street I can't remember) actually wasn't that bad. Though several of my friends lived in areas that I refused to walk through alone at night for fear of being mugged by a crackhead and/or projectile vomited on from a third story balcony.

I never really worry about crackheads in that part of town. Fuck, I can work with a crackhead. On the other hand, the projectile vomiting from someone's balcony after they just drank a batch of bathtub punch ...

... yeah, I'll stay on my side of the river, kthx. :)

But yes. We live on a really quiet side street that's a nice blend of gentrified and non-gentrified, and our apartment is reasonably large, and we're in a two-flat so it's extremely quiet in the building. Our upstairs neighbours are a bunch of post-collegiate guys, but only one's been a party animal thus far, most of them are quiet types, two are schoolteachers, one's an engineer and I don't know what the fourth does.

The sad thing is I'm not actually making the vomit part up, and after observing that the first time (it would not be the last) I made sure to check the porches of every house before I went anywhere near them. Never did meet a crackhead, though I did know a guy on Pratt Street that *sold* crack.

Sounds like a great place you've got there. I miss living in the city...

It is a lovely place here. :)

Where do you live now?

I live in the middle of goddamn nowhere (aka New Hampshire) right now. It's temporary though.

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