Harry Beaver in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

First thing’s first. Look at what came in the mail while I was gone:

I’ve spent most of my morning making and drinking delicious cappuccinos. I am wired to the hilt.

Obligatory Trip Report:

London was absolutely wonderful. Too bad I was only there for a day and a half. But last Saturday was insanely gorgeous. Record highs. I’ve never seen London in this light, and it was kind of weird to walk down the sundrenched streets.

Sunday was misty and colder, and felt more like the London we all know and love. Took a brisk walk through Hyde Park on the way to Harvey Nichols (squee!) and then back to the hotel in time to catch a taxi to Heathrow. Flew to Brussels and then took a bus to Antwerp where Chelle and I avoided phone calls from other co-workers. It was nice to walk into our rooms to see a small bottle of wine. We finished both of ours (very small bottles, okay?) while watching Dutch and Belgian TV and went to bed fairly early.

Had meetings on Monday and Tuesday in the Europe office. These meetings are always torturous because the guy who sets them up makes them so. It’s painful because our European counterparts are popping in and out of the meetings, and we have to wait for them because of poor planning on the set-up guy’s behalf.

I wish I could regale you with tales of scandalous all-night parties and romantic walks down cobblestone pathways, but I have to say that this trip was horribly tame. No kissing the bongo player on the dance floor this time (remember, he gave me a deadly case of strep throat?). No flirty-flirt with my neighbors on the plane (okay, except for the wink from the handsome guy in front of me on the flight from Brussels to Chicago—I’m sure he was a professional soccer player). No…nothing. Sorry. I’m bummed too.

I did find myself missing someone while I was gone. Q. was on my mind a lot of the time, and he was the first person I contacted when we landed in the US (via text, of course…he hates talking on the phone).

Something funny is happening with us, and I don’t mean the ha-ha kind (though he makes me laugh a lot). We’re becoming friends. Like, I want to tell him all the stuff that goes on in my life, and he actually wants to hear and listen and consider.

And yesterday: whoa. I met his parents. In the hospital! His dad had angioplasty and was in ICU, and I called Q to see how he was doing. Q told me that he was going to run to the hospital and asked me if I wanted to come along for the ride and meet his mom. I said sure and off we went.

His mom is absolutely darling, and I see where Q gets his smarts and wit. She made me so comfortable, even while her husband lay in recovery. And Q did too, occasionally touching my knee or arm while we sat. I think it made us look more like boyfriend and girlfriend than we actually are, but it was nice anyway.

And just before we left, Q went to say goodbye to his dad, and asked if I wanted to meet him. I told him that I didn’t want to disturb him, but Q said that his dad was coherent and in good spirits, so come on!

I did, and I was completely blown away by Daddy Q. THAT’S where the brilliant humor comes from! I could not believe that I was exchanging barbs with a guy who’d just had major internal surgery just a few hours before. He was the most charming character—ever. I can see why Q is so proud of him. I’m so glad we met.

Q and I then ran a few errands together and when we said goodbye, it was with a giant hug.

I don’t quite get it, but I guess I don’t really have to get it so much as enjoy. Right?

I’m still feeling very “eh” about my job right now. I’m also feeling very “eh” about the fact that my job seems to be all I have. I want to start something on the side. I don’t know what, just something else. I feel this huge void that’s only gotten bigger in the past few months.

I just heard a blurb on the news (I’m listening to the TV) that Jennifer Anniston finally filed for divorce, and the fact that she is so obsessed with her career. That’s such a sad thing when you think about it. I mean, come on. Give up Brad in favor of making more and more and more movies? Give up a family in favor of more and more work?

What a shame. Someone please knock me over the head if I’m faced with such a dilemma and I choose my fucking job over something as precious as love and family.

Depressing. What can I tell you that’s funny? Oh. Here’s a storefront I found in Antwerp. Happy shopping everyone!!