bethofalltrades

Today Moogie didn't hear from me for a while and then texted, "betch. did you fly away again?"

No. I am resisting.

I thank god my credit card is basically maxed out, or else I would have already bought a ticket to London.

It's $650 for a direct flight from NYC, six day stay. The perfect amount of time to see a show, knock about with the UK kids, share a real bottle of wine and a blanket with a friend.

Totally worth it.

When did I become a girl who clips coupons for cereal but thinks spending nearly two weeks salary on a plane ticket is a good idea?

... and why wasn't I her all along?

Love,
Beth

I went to London.

There are 23,346 things I should be doing that are not writing this blog, but my brain is friend and I can't hold a pen in my right hand. It's the tendonitis, definitely, a side-effect from yesterday's 18 hour day at the computer.

Funny, how the body learns to compensate. I can type almost as fast with just my left hand and right pointer finger as I can with both hands in top form.

Once the album drops I will have to tend to this wrist. It was better for a while but has gotten worse again. The veins in my hand show like an old woman's.

I thought last night about what I would do if I lost my hands... my career as a photographer/graphic designer/personal assistant who emails constantly would be over. I could manage if I lost my hearing, maybe even if I lost my sight, but I need my hands. So of course my hands are the things that start to go.

--

I went to London. I went to London because I can't stand to be left behind, and because a psychic told me I would go to London in August and I would learn about love there. I went to London because Amanda was sad.

I went to London because I was sad and because Steven said, "Well, then why don't you just come to London?"

The question seemed so ridiculous, yet so obvious.

So I went to London.

--

I surprised Amanda at the football game she was hosting in Shepard's Bush. When I touched her arm, she turned and looked at me with mild annoyance, then confusion, and then mad, loud squealing.

I hung at the sidelines with a camera and a bottle of vile white wine, for which I still owe enchanting Robin four pounds, I think. I laughed with Steven and Becca the Merch Girl (who was visiting) and Max with the moustache who cannot stand the word "vagina."


(Max, Robin, Steven, Olga, and Becca)

A kid named Nima challenged Amanda and the 50 or so Dolls fans she was paying football (soccer!) with... he was a trip and a half. He's the one in the orange in this team portrait:



--

I went to London. I picked up a free newspaper and read my horoscope. It said, "You need to be there, somehow."



I went into a little astrology shop to buy another Spiral deck. They didn't have it, but the man behind the counter told me that he had something new that I would love.

He handed me the Tarot of the 78 Doors


I pulled up my sleeve and showed him my key. He smiled. We were both unnerved.

I gave Amanda privacy one night to make Important Calls. I sat just outside the door with my new deck. I laid the cards out in a calendar pattern before falling asleep, right there in the hallway.

--

I met a compatriot in London, a woman who led me through Chinatown at night and taught me about art. And myself.

She is magical.

She has a beautiful tattoo.



--

I went to London. I spent much of my time there looking around saying, "But... I'm in LONDON!"

It was worth the debt, the stress, the hours of travel, the sleeping-not-sleeping in Heathrow airport, the cold I got on the plane, the exhaustion, the sushi I won't be eating for the next two months as I try to fix my finances. It was all worth it, because I went to London.

Love,
Beth

I am in London. I am completely broke. I have not a working credit card in my possession and forty pounds in my pocket to get me back to the US. Everything is maxed out. That's what you get for impulsive, Beth. You end up sitting on a stoop in Covent Garden, watching the happy tourists shop while you wonder if the tube runs at 5 am or if you'll have enough for a cab if it doesn't. If not you suppose you'll just skip out on staying with the girl you can't sleep with anyway (no matter how much you like her, because she's on the payroll) and get the latest tube to the airport and wait. You've got plenty of work to keep you busy anyway.

This is being young and working in the arts and trading experience for security. You could have had security, you could have even had London, in fine Holiday Inns on six day sojourns from your Real Life. You could have done it the proper way and confined your adventures to properly scheduled, signed off on getaways.

Instead, you do this and eat $3 take-out chinese for a month to get back to some kind of financial equillibrium.

Amanda cheerily suggested I go back to the Rock for a week, so when I came back to rock I'd appreciate it more. I can't even imagine it. I have been doing this full time for only four months today and, still, I cannot go back. Put me in a sweater set and itchy slacks and sit me at a desk and I will spend every second plotting my escape and tearing at my nails.

Life is dodgy and weird but I am glad I'm here. I am lucky in that if I were stranded penniless in any major city in the world, I would be able to find a way to survive for long enough to get back home. I have friends all over the globe and friends who save my ass when it needs saving and friends who glare when I come tumbling through the door, unscathed from my latest adventure that logically should have stranded me on Planet Fucked. I am lucky that the universe works for me, even when it works against me.
There's an entire entry to be written about faith, but for now, I'll just say I feel lucky I have it.

In a little over 24 hours, I will be back in NYC.

I am broke. I am in London. I am lucky and I am happy.

Love,
Beth