Archive for February, 2003

Virgil Tracy

February 24, 2003
Came across a Virgil Tracy marionette in Junkman’s Daughter the other day, happened to read his stats on the side of the packet:

Age: 24
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Medium Brown
Personality traits: Mature and levelheaded with an artistic side.
Enjoys: Playing the piano and painting.
Graduated: Denver School of Advanced Technology
Pilots: Thunderbird 2

Dammit, I’m now older than my first love. GAH!

Grappling VS Kicking

February 22, 2003

Okay okay, so Vile might well get me every time with a wrestling move, but only ’cause I let him right?!

TKD is still the better fighting style, and I’ve got the thighs to prove it. (Well, did have anyway) Muahahaha.

Got hold of the times and days for the TKD sessions in Tavistock, and a Plymouth number to call. YAY!

Also have large yellow bruise Vile memento on left shin. Ouchie. Will get my own back next time, honest.

*plots deviously*

Saying goodbye, returning home

February 19, 2003

Spent the afternoon having to sort through all the photos I took that are on Vile’s Mac because his cd writer is kaput. Had to resize and optimise the ones I wanted and upload them to the web so that I’d be able to access them when I got home. Of course the next day Vile managed to reinstall his burner software and made me a cd with all the photos on it. Gah! Could have spent the afternoon snuggling or playing Unreal with him instead of getting frustrated on the pooter. Poop.

Mum and Dad came online at one point and we were able to wave at each other on the web cams. It was much more fun being on the same side of the cam as Bill. Not that it’s not horrible being so far away from my folks too, but I really don’t want to have to go back to only seeing a blurry Bill framed by a little grey box. Suppose I should be thankful for that technology though really. *sigh*

All too soon it was time to hug Quince goodbye, put my suitcase into the car and head off towards the airport. Set off a little early so we could have one last meal at Grant Central Pizza. (Yep, another spinach and feta pizza, delicious.) Was all sad and stuff.

Got back into the beamer and were on the way to the airport when we got stuck in a huge queue of traffic. Could see multitudes of flashing lights up ahead and in various offshoot roads. Turned out to be the local police spot checking for Driver’s Licences and car insurance. Seemed to take forever to get through it and US police certainly seem a lot scarier than the ones I’m used to.

Every so often you’d see a car do a quick u-turn and high-tail it out of there, though Bill reckons that the police account for that and such folk get easily picked up down the road. Good.

We’d been hoping that we’d have time for a coffee at the airport but thanks to that mess of police business we got there somewhat later than we should have done and I had to go straight through security. Dammit. Did not want to let Bill go. Bloke seated before security noticed this and told me to “go get a hotel” as I went past his post. Grrrr. Got all embarressed and flummoxed and went through security all of a whirl again. Wanted to look back at Bill but was all upset and scatty. Dammit. Forgot to take my purse out of my pocket, set the alarms off and had to go be individually searched.. Couldn’t look back and see Bill. Not fair.

Weird, some of the people in front of me were made to take their shoes off and put them through the x-ray machine. One man them set the alarm off too and had to be taken to one side. He complained loudly and bitterly about having no shoes and standing on the cold floor. Staff simply then ignored him and checked the people after him (ie me) first. Hee.

Not a fun flight home, but at least it was only seven hours instead of nine and a half. Didn’t manage to sleep much and watched a very dull film As Good As It Gets *yawn* All the other films were the same as the ones they showed on the flight out. Poop. Was rather miserable.

Back in Manchester flight landed on time and I thankfully made it to the bus stop to catch my coach back to Plymouth on time. Cue another eight hours of being couped up on public transport. Ugh.

Daddy picked me up at Bretonside Bus Station, bounced lots and gave him a big hug.

Got home, phoned Bill.

Managed to stay awake until bedtime in an effort to try and force my head to return to normal scheduling. Didn’t really work as I then slept for practically all of the next two days

Piloting the beamer

February 19, 2003

Vile had been tormenting me all week with promises of making me drive his beamer around the block, so far I’d managed to avoid this. On the way back from East Atlanta Village he suddenly remembered that he hadn’t kept his word and pulled over.


I had to take the driver’s seat and ferry us home and it was freaky. Not only was it my first attempt at being on the wrong side of the road, but I’d never driven an automatic, or a car with power steering before either. Aaargh.

Was very strange indeed to have the car on the right hand side, and my distance judgement was totally screwed up. Had no idea how much car to make room for or how close to the edge of the road I was.

Aware I kept looking in the wrong place for the rear view mirrors. Most peculiar.

Car felt so light! Most disorientating. Bill commandeered the camera and just giggled at me. *pout*

Had to go through a couple of Stop junctions and instinctively kept edging forward to the white line, except of course there wasn’t one. Had to really think which side of the road to swing onto when turning left too. Totally mad.

Did make it back in one piece and parked above Bill’s cardboard box drip catcher. (his beamer leaks enthusiastically) Was actually half tempted to go around the block again just cos, but I’m afraid I got all shy and wussed. Went to put the hand brake on, and hit the door instead. Ouch!

Earlier in the week we drove past the test centre. It’s just a lot with all these fake junctions and signs and stuff laid out as a test circuit. You apparently don’t get to drive on the streets for your test like you do over here. I’m going to have to take my driving test again to get a US licence, I’m a tad nervous! Yikes.


February 19, 2003

Was very mopey, had a tight chest and a pit in my stomach this morning. This was our last day together and I had to get back on an aeroplane this evening and return home. I can’t travel back to visit Bill once the petition is filed either which totally sucks.

And I really don’t understand why, other than there is a potential chance of being contacted and therefore it’s better if I am at home. However, apparently immigration will probably assume that if I return on a tourist visa while applying for permission to obtain a K1 Fiance Visa that I intend to marry while I am in the country and am therefore entering the country on false pretenses and violating my Tourist Visa. But surely if you are filing for a Fiance Visa you wouldn’t do that because you are following protocol? If you were going to try to pull one over on immigration you wouldn’t apply for a Fiance Visa and alert authorities at all would you? Just seems totally screwy to me.

Bah humbug.

Anyhow, decided to go out for breakfast. Made it out of the house about midday. Ooops.

Drove over to East Atlanta Village and decided to sample the Good News Cafe. Bill was astounded that I hadn’t had a proper waffle before (had only ever had a gauffre in Brittany once but it wasn’t really quite the same, that was waffle shaped but crunchy) and persuaded me to order one. Glad I did, it was delicious. All fluffy and smothered in syrup til it dripped, with yummy strawberries on top. Had to take a photo! 🙂

Mmmmm *pats tummy*

Breakfast in the States seems far more exciting than our English variety. I might even eat breakfast if I could have pancakes and waffles and eggy bread* instead of horrid cereal, toast, or English breakfast. (ugh). ‘Course, then I’d be a right bloater!

Sat and went through some more of the Fiance Visa help book while we were there. Double checked through all the check lists for each stage. I think we’ve pretty much covered what we need to do for the first step, just need to get the postcard my parent’s sent Bill’s folks as extra evidence, then we are all set. Yay! Bill aims to get the petition in the post on Friday. *fingers crossed*

Mooched some more, don’t want to go home, and then wandered around a couple of the shops in the village. Bought a few giffts to take back to my family and managed to use my credit card to pay for it. Cool.

*Bill called this French Toast, whereas we usually refer to thin slices of crisply toasted brioche as French Toast.

*wail!* Ring Calamity.

February 18, 2003

Sat typing at the Mac, Bill in the front room watching the telly.

I look down at my left hand.



My ring is diamond-less. A gaping hole stares back at me.


Bill comes pacing in, I sit perfectly still and don’t breathe. Expect there was a somewhat distressed look on my face too.

Torch is produced and Bill goes down on his hands and knees scouring the floor for my rock.



Bill spots the run away diamond and I snatch it back from the drifts of dog hair beneath the desk.


Can breathe again.

Hug Bill lots.

Going to have to phone Klaus in the morning and tell him. We’ll have to post it back off for him to fix and I’ll have to return to England without my engagement ring, I feel naked. 😦

Penultimate Day *sniff*

February 18, 2003

Urk. Final full day in Atlanta with Bill. Would have liked to have done something exciting, or at the very least have met his sister Julie for lunch like we had arranged, but we simply had too much to organise for the petition while we were able to do it together.

Managed to hold onto and huggle Bill for longer than he had anticipated this morning. Though that’s not exactly a hard task. *giggle*

Finally made it up and showered and raced over to Sonny’s house to borrow a printer so we could print out some of our digital photos from all our trips to see each other.

A quick trip to Staples to purchase nice yummy glossy photo paper and some ink, a fleeting visit to Publix for roti chicken and salad, and we were all set to be industrious.

Fetched Meredith’s dog, Gus, over to play with Quince and while they tore the place up (aided and abetted by me) Bill did a grand job of being organised and running the print job.

*print* *print* *print* *woof* *bark* *print* *wheee* *print* *howl* *print* *print*

Most impressed by the results.

Filled in my share of the forms for the petition, nerve wracking trying to complete it correctly and not mess it up. Then Bill almost wrecked it by resting on the forms when writing on something else. You see, I had to make four exact duplicates and so there was carbon paper sandwiched between the biographic data sheets. Aaargh! Almost had a conniption, but all was well. Phew!

Was all sad and moochy, filling forms is no fun and I don’t want to have to leave tomorrow. *grump*

American Televsion

February 18, 2003

I hate the way that programmes disintegrate into commercials with no warning. I mean it’s bad enough that they have so many adverts as it is, without having to guess when the programme you were watching has restarted. I never realised how useful the couple of seconds of title screen that I am used to seeing over in England is to allow differentiation between ads and real telly. The lack of it kept jarring my brain. Grrrr.

Also the length of commercial breaks is ridiculous, I don’t think I have too much of a short term memory problem but the number of times that I had totally forgotten what I was watching by the time the break ended was most distressing.


The Hood

February 18, 2003

The sun came out again so took the opportunity to take some pics of Vile’s neighbourhood while the rays brightened its appearance slightly.

Redneck Neighbour

Quincy sniffing around the driveway

Bill’s “cottage in the woods”

Why have I no shots of Bill playing pool?

February 18, 2003

Yet, there are numerous shots of my bum, and he managed to get two videos of Kay silliness and a tummy flash.


Not fair.

I swear I took a round of photos of Bill, and an action shot packed avi. Whatever happened to those?

*squints at Bill*