9:19 p.m. - 2003-03-27
sent packing
2003-03-27
I've had a wonderful two weeks with Jami. We've spent the majority of the time sitting on his orange sofa getting stoned, watching TV and playing Grand Theft Auto. Eating English Muffins (he got them in specially because he thought that's what the English eat everyday, I'd never had one before!) and driving around. We did go out a few times - we went to a club called Star Shoes on Hollywood Boulevard. That was surreal, really good 80s music. We felt like we were in a John Hughes movie. The place was full of attractive hipsters. I tried hard to find an ugly person, but to no avail. We went to the famous San Diego Zoo yesterday. It felt like a date. I'm not that keen on zoos but I always seem to end up in them. This one is huge and well landscaped, but full of the sort of people I would normally avoid, i.e. Obese Americans with their whiny fat kids. Most of them were too lazy to walk around the zoo, so they took the special Double Decker buses, only stopping long enough to allow for a photo of a giraffe/elephant/rhino. Meanwhile Jami was dragging me up the hill in the unbearable Californian midday-sun. My favourite animals were the Spanish Mountain goats because they were the only ones that weren't asleep at the back of the enclosure. They were very entertaining, skipping around and headbutting the hanging tree trunk. We watched the sunset from the beach. It wasn't as impressive as the sunset we saw in LA the day before, but at least it wasn't as windy. It takes a couple of hours to drive back to LA and I was desperately trying to find a radio station that didn't play bad rock. Eventually I found a show that was playing good Eighties tunes.
After we got back we went to see Plaid play at the Henry Fonda Theater. We�d driven halfway there when Jami cursed himself and turned back to the flat; we'd forgotten to get stoned! The Warp night was good, but the venue was too big, so only half-full of nodding geeks, and a couple of token freaky dancers. Actually most of the audience were sitting down upstairs. So the atmosphere was a bit shite.
So here I am, the dreaded day has arrived. Saturday: my day of departure. I've been living with Jami for the last two weeks. We've spent 24/7 with each other and got on pretty well except for a couple of times when we've bickered. Jami looked after me really well, and showed me a side of LA that most backpackers could only dream of.
I have to pack again. This is a very stressful experience. I seem to have already accumulated too much extra baggage and I need everything!
I should get off this computer and start packing. I'm putting it off because it makes me sad.
28-03-03
Jami went to his Japanese class (he is obsessed with the country and the women) and I packed on Saturday morning. I cried a little, thinking I could get it out of my system before he came home. However, he looked sad when he walked in and dropped his keys down. I realised how hard this goodbye was going to be. It was quite awkward for a while. He started making ganja bread and cleaned out his pipes. Neither of us spoke much. We went into the bedroom and agreed that we'd become too attached. It felt silly to cry and I got annoyed with myself. After lunch he drove me to LAX and we had a hug goodbye. After I walked up to the gate I turned around but he had gone. Bumped into Iwan though (he was flying out the same day) and we had a beer, which softened the blow of feeling abandoned.
