Moving to Los Angeles

A year has past.

2011-03-09T10:46:00.000-08:00

I haven't really added much in the last few months which is well pants. However, it's worth putting down that I've been here for a year now. Long enough to get a job, buy a car and and xbox.

One of the best things about being out of the mire that shadowed the whole pattern of moving here is that I'm a damn sight more relaxed!

My work and thoughts aren't so easily placed over two blogs (swimming in mud is the other one) and I've had so little time to stop look around and soak it all in until recently. I feel like I'm getting to that stage anyway. By the middle of the year I'll be able to do that.

And I need to get citizenship sorted. Oh and buy a piano, and a guitar, and a stupidly big TV. Ah the list still exists after all.

December Part Two...

2009-12-27T14:25:00.000-08:00

Returning to Nottingham

On the morning of 20th December it starts to really snow in Manchester. It was touch and go as to whether I’d even leave as every time I opened the car boot to pack it filled with flakes. After about an hour it stopped and I skidded the car around onto the drive to pack trying not to take out the neighbours wall.

It was freezing cold trudging back and forth from the house but after an hour I had managed to jam every last bit of my worldly possessions in and went for a last look around the house with my housemate Jo.

I’d lived the house in Prestwich for 6 years and I hadn’t ever seen it empty. It’s weird looking at a room that you’ve lived in with no pictures or familiar items strewn about. I have a 6ft cardboard Stormtrooper that I used to scare my previous housemate and landlady Hannah with. I decided to leave him poised, pointing his gun strategically on the first floor aware that Hannah will definitely shit herself when she saw it. I knew my time in Manchester was complete. I gave Jo a big hug goodbye and dropped the keys off with my neighbour who in his old age didn’t really get it when I said I was “going” but either way he gladly accepted a pile of spare keys and after setting the alarm for the last time I shut the door and posted my own key through the letterbox.

It took me 3 hours to get to Nottingham in the snow and blizzards which for 120 miles isn’t so bad. Once in I was force fed tea and food by my family. I’ve probably put a stone on since I got home. Peroni has a lot to answer for too.

On Tuesday 22nd I went to Nottingham city centre with my best pal Jamie. I grew up with him and he’s more a brother really. We were wandering about looking for gifts in House of Frasier when I got a text off my mum asking me to call her. She told me that my Grandma (Nan) had died. I met up with a pal who was expecting me but made my excuses and came home. Later on that day one of my aunties called to say the earliest that the funeral could take place was 4th Jan. It’s a VERY long wait… 2 weeks in total yet mostly I was worried as this was the same date as my immigration interview in London and I really didn’t want to miss the funeral.

The next day I was up really early to drive my dad to the city hospital for a heart operation (no I’m not making this up). It had been re-arranged to 23rd after being cancelled for the 9th. It doesn’t rain – it pours. After some Christmas shopping I got home and telephoned the lawyers in Encino who advised me to do the same as before. So I called the embassy and sent them an email to ask again for a new date. They were great and managed to move it to 29th December. Which means I won’t miss my Nan’s funeral and I can pay my respects. It’s been hard as I’ve not grieved whatsoever. I almost want to get the interview done so I can just get on and mourn. There is no right or wrong way to mourn I guess. The text from Hannah calling me a "f*cker" about the Stormtrooper cheered me up though.

Dads heart operation was a success and it was all done through cameras and wires going in through veins in his groin. He joked when they were shaving him that he should have had a Brazilian. I was nearly sick when I heard this. Poor nurse! He was wide awake throughout the operation and was asked if he knew any jokes. Anyone who knows my dad will be aware that this is a bull to a red rag….

As the dates have changed I’ve not been able to speak to my lawyer prior to leaving Nottingham (Christmas, the weekend and the time diff means I can’t speak to him until 7pm tomorrow earliest) so I’m just filling out forms I think need doing and hoping a shirt and jeans will not offend US Embassy people.

So that pretty much brings us up to speed. The last week has been both horrendous and great. I’ve got my family around me and when I’m not being grumpy I think they like having me around. Perhaps the emotions of everything have hit me hard with all the other stuff going on too and as of the 29th I’ll be able to unwind properly… I really hope so anyway.

December Part One...

2009-12-27T14:23:00.000-08:00

The longest month on record

It’s fair to say December has been eventful.

I received notification from the embassy that my visa interview would be 11th Jan. Not being too sure how long afterwards I would be able to buy a plane ticket (assuming I pass) I realised that it might be mid-late Jan 2010 when I move.

Not being a lazy so and so I’d got off my butt earlier and sought work for my arrival and it came in the form of digital media. I’ve been asked to film motion capture for a UK based computer games company who specialise in car racing games. Specifically this means crashing cars in the desert and filming them on awesome cameras. It is as cool as it sounds albeit hard work. It starts in Jan and I realised that mid-late Jan would not work in terms of arrival in the US. Initially I’d expected to be stateside by Christmas and to spend it with my wife Holly but alas the process of immigration is not such a straightforward thing!

The embassy was great, I rang them up and asked if I could change the date, they gave me an email address and I wrote to them with my request. They got back almost immediately with 4th Jan, so that had to do. My papers hadn’t arrived for the December window and the really was the earliest they could manage.

The Medical

I spoke to Holly and mentioned that I now had to book the medical and she encouraged me to crack on as by this time it was early December. Here in the UK there is only one doctor that the embassy officially uses and it’s based off Bond Street in London. You can’t bring a medical from any other practice, it simply won’t be accepted. I called them and got the last available date in 2009. Close one.

They’d chosen me Friday 11th December, the day before I filmed this year’s Versus Cancer concert at the Manchester Evening News Arena. Ouch! I’d been producing this project for about three weeks already and the goalposts had already moved several times, I was going to miss the final pre-production day but fortunately I’d got most of it sorted aside a couple of crew member. So I booked the train ticket to London from Manchester and even drove into town to pick the tickets up the day before to be sure I didn’t miss it.

The next day I was up at 4:30am ate breakfast and drove to the station in record time as there was no traffic. My 5:55am train was sat on the platform already and I ambled on and got another breakfast. I arrived in Euston at about 8:15am and as I was packing my stuff away to leave the train I noticed they guy on the next table had left his phone. I rushed to pack my stuff away, grabbed the guys phone and ran up the platform to find him. I spotted him because of his scarf amongst the grey cloud of commuters and he graciously thanked me for returning his mobile. I smiled and made my way to the underground where I jumped on the tube to Bond Street.

As with every tube station in London, I get out completely disorientated and ask directions to someone else that knows bugger all about London. One day I’ll come out of the tube and meet a cartographer who bores me with their knowledge. Probably not.

Anyway as per usual I’m stood next to the road I need and after laughing about how funny that is and “how silly of me” with a random I’m on my way. An hour and a half early mind.

Eventually I found the doctors and checked my watch, I’m still an hour early so I head off to find a coffee shop. Today is the first day of the cold snap, London is far colder than Manchester had been this week and I indulge in a bit of hot chocolate which the café girl lovingly sprinkles chocolate dust on in the shape of a heart. Like she does for everyone.

Reading the paper and not soaking up an ounce of information I start to think about the train and packing my bags. I suddenly have a feeling of dread. I don’t remember if I picked up my charger for my laptop as I rushed off with that guys phone. I look in my bag.

Lost property at Euston are pretty helpful, I mean, they aren’t going to find your stuff and its never going to turn up but at least they are nice about it. Then you realise that because they charge you for holding onto your lost stuff depending on its size at a rate that makes your eyes smart. I’d had a 3rd breakfast in the coffee shop and hammered the phone once more.

Manchester lost property also has heard nothing but the train hadn’t made it back yet so there was still a chance.

I get off the phone and go into the doctors in a very regal building off Bond Street. It’s all a formality but this is one of the most thorough medicals I’ve ever had. Chest x-ray, eye test, HIV test, test ;) all sorts of fancy moves with a stethoscope and plenty of forms to fill in. You can also get any vaccinations that are required for the US right there so I got an MMR jab and a tetanus boost. I was told that if I hadn’t heard from them in 4 working days then I’d passed and all my stuff would be sent to the embassy for the interview. The final part of the process (I hope).

I trudge through the cold back to Euston and no, lost property had nothing handed in. I get an earlier train home and return to Manchester for late lunchtime. Lost property in Manchester had nothing either. I gave up and went to PC world to buy a new charger for 80 quid and got on with preparing for Versus Cancer. Food news; I didn’t eat anything until dinnertime though thanks to my breakfast frenzy.

The leaving party - Manchester

Thursday it started snowing in Manchester. That was the night of my leaving party too. I can’t say I was surprised although I thought that perhaps a few people would drop out of coming. They did but the hardcore group managed to head out. In the end about 20 of us partied all night and it was a good laugh right up to the point I bought a round of jager bombs. After that I’m a bit blurry although I remember spending at least 10 minutes talking to the guy from The Urban Cookie Collective who gave me his new CD.

It was a pretty reflecting time with my cohorts of 10 years. I love all those people and they helped me achieve some really amazing stuff in my time there. I’m yet to write the full Mancunia experience blog… probably will manage that next but in my sister blog www.swimminginmud.blogspot.com which I haven’t updated for months so don’t click on it.

Thursday was also 4 working days since the medical so I assume I’d passed and all that was left was to leave Manchester. Versus Cancer was my last job while living there and a bit of a legacy as I co-founded the gigs and was a director of the company that puts it on for the first 2 years it was on. I was lured away pastures new for numerous other reasons but I still film it for them. It’s the largest annual charity concert in the UK. Even though I’ve nothing to do with the organising side of it (thank god) it’s still close to my heart… perhaps I’ll do something similar in LA…

Fast Slow Whatever.

2009-11-26T17:31:00.000-08:00

Oh its chaos, it really is.

I could do with a New Moon or something astrological to take charge right now because all rational thought is slowly eking away into obscurity.

Like a tidal wave of nonsense the last 2 weeks have been probably the most challenging in the process of moving to LA. Why? I hear you holler. Oh you excitable thing, well let me tell you.

There is (it appears) one last thing to do before I leave stateside and that is my interview. Now I really don’t know much about what this entails aside its in London and it’s at the American Embassy. It probably involves a few questions…. I’m good at this eh? And will also mean I have to undergo some sort of medical, probably a chest X-Ray and star jumps or something. All standard stuff, you know, stopping the risk of disease and tuberculosis etc heading over to the US. Makes sense.

I’ve got a really great job stateside for January but I still need to get there and get my social security number, bank account, etc. Not to mention spend some quality time with my wife.

I’m expecting to hear from them next week. At least that’s what I hope. Got all my digits crossed. Ideally I’d like to be there before Christmas although right now I’ve literally no idea. Nobody has!

In a true Catch 22 scenario I've made plans of leaving (as per the earlier blog) on 20^th December. So I’m actually counting my chickens now. I’d like to point out though in relevance to the last blog that my landlords are not evil wizards casting me into destitution to build a bathroom, but have been super accommodating…. Bit of a rent gag there. You know, accommodating, landlady… see what I did? Touch me.

So, in the final run up to the big switch I’ve been dismantling my house of all my stuff and therefore all my worldly possessions. The house is a monolithic shit tip.

I’ve not bought a CD since I got married (aside The Prodigy’s new album) because I can’t take it or anything with me. Essentially you don’t need a CD collection if you have an ipod. Thanks Steve Jobs. I think.

Other stuff like audio tapes and DVD’s can be housed somewhere like the parents attic.

My paintings and pictures can go to various temporary donors and will be well looked after and my “too decent to throw/unused presents” crap can go to charity. I took all my VHS tapes to the tip though. There is seriously no point in keeping them unless I wanted to spend hours pressing fast forward and rewind trying to find something worth keeping, which there isn’t. And I can safely say that aside home movies there isn’t a single thing in your collection worth keeping. You will NEVER watch any of it again, FACT. It was actually very refreshing stood in the pouring rain throwing X-Men 20 feet down into a skip watching it smash to smithereens – I advise anyone with a cupboard full of VHS to do this. Go luddites.

What else? Oh yeah, so of the last 3 jobs I’ve had set up since In The City, 2 have fallen through… one was today. I’m pretty sure the other will screw up tomorrow. Zero cash in November hat trick! As news editor of The Daily Planet, Perry White once said to Clark Kent “Comes with the territory Kent, comes with the territory”. Oh how right you are Perry. Good job he was Superman.

Finally. And this is a really crap subject. My Nan is seriously unwell in hospital. Not good to write but she’s not going to be around much longer according to the odds.

The docs have found a shadow on her lungs and in turn fluid from there has found its way to her brain. Her heart is so weak she will probably not survive any kind of operation to save her. At 89 everyone agrees she’s got to a ripe old age and even more surprising is that she’s smoked for 75 years since she was 14. NOT an advert to smoke people! Although you can’t help but wonder how she managed it. She is a truly tough lady.

Mortality, lack of work, leaving the house (and Manchester which I will delve into the thoughts of leaving at a later date) and jobs arsing off into the distance make things seem pretty rotten. But it’s not about me for a change. Yeah I’m frustrated but I’m helpless too in a way. It’s not something anyone enjoys and I’m the kind of person that tends to punch those feelings into the ground. Only now I can’t. You can’t dispel the reality of your situation and you just have to sit this sort of thing out.

Of course, when I heard about Nan all my problems didn’t mean shit.

I’ve spent so much time thinking about “fast forwarding” and getting to the next day that out of the blue I remembered a poem read out at a family funeral of recent past…

The Station
by Robert J. Hastings

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.

"When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry. "When I'm 18." "When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!" "When I put the last kid through college." "When I have paid off the mortgage!" "When I get a promotion." "When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"

Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.

So there you go.

All change... well, in the UK anyway.

2009-11-23T10:34:00.000-08:00

Slightly less random an update this time. Read into the last one what you will.

Now then, where are we?

Ah yes. We’ll I’ve now been married for over 6 months (can I get a yee-ha) and sadly I’m still not over stateside with my lovely lady yet (can I get a shucks)

It’s been quiet of late, I’ve heard nothing from the powers that be about my interview with immigration. I’ve a new job that starts in January so our lawyers are seeking to get things speeded up. Although I’ve really no idea how it all works so I’ve just got to hope that things pan out. I’ve a date for leaving my house in Manchester though – 20^th December. I couldn’t put off leaving any longer as my landlord wants to do some work on the house. Apparently there is a new bathroom on its way to my house in the New Year. Shame I’ll never get to use it! My housemate has successfully passed all her tests to be a police officer so she’s off to and we are on joint tenancy. One goes the other too…. So I sit here in limbo. Neither American nor Brit.

I’m shattered after spending the last few days working on a couple of projects that might still fall through…Ah the joys of being a freelancer.

So I’ll write something more interesting soon I promise.

They arrived at last.

2009-09-16T12:45:00.000-07:00

Well well well! The documents have arrived safe and sound a mere 7 days late. I've got to say I'm very relieved!

I never doubted you for a second Royal Mail.

Never .

You can track your post all the way across the world? No son, this is Royal Mail.

2009-09-13T12:24:00.000-07:00

My police checks were all there waiting for me when I got back from my honeymoon, even the one from Australia I figured would take ages. I’m crime free too, so I hope that helps everything to go along smoothly… although that’s not really the core of my concern right now….

I went to the post office to deliver the police checks, along with some new passport photos and yet another form to the immigration lawyers when the daftness that is Royal Mail confirmed its status as only “quite good”. I didn’t need quite good as my original birth certificate was also in the package.

Basically I had two delivery options

1) It gets posted – and is track-able up until it leaves the UK however needs a signature at its final destination

2) It gets posted and is track-able right up to the delivery, but no confirmation that it actually goes in the right mailbox…. In other words it would get as far as an L.A sorting office and then I was to just cross my fingers.

Is it me or are they both really crap options? If they merged the two then fine. But that would be obvious.

So, I went for option 1) especially as my wife had experienced a hellish day in April where a package was posted to her – guaranteed to be in the area according to the tracking number but wasn’t delivered. According to the tracking number the package said “reached destination” but of course that just meant the nearest sorting office. It arrived the next day but it’s not the kind of thing you want to hear.

Anyway. Guess what? It was supposed to take 4-7 days and get there for Thursday latest… and its not there yet. Its Sunday now so if it doesn’t arrive tomorrow I’m going to get worried… Tuesday and the phone calls start.

I’d got an email from the immigration lawyer which confirmed the approval of the application from the US government (hooray!). So I guess that’s another hurdle jumped. Next they request all the stuff I’ve sent over and now it is currently somewhere between Manchester and Los Angeles. Joy.

It did take 3 weeks once for a package to get to my wife when it was only supposed to take 4-7 days. I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen. And knowing my luck, of course it will silly. You can count on it.

Le Penseur

2009-08-29T02:51:00.000-07:00

After a long wait I finally had my honeymoon this month. We went to France and Corsica plus managed a cheeky drive into Italy for the day to see some amazing caves and eat a meal. Nice.

The whole trip was tremendous and I’m sure my lovely wife will be writing a more thorough account of our adventures which included having to find taxi drivers to match up with the empty cars, dodgy hospitality and “no speako da eengleesh” japes.

I’m onto the next stage of immigration (almost)…. I didn’t account for a year working visa in Australia affecting anything but it turns out I needed to get a police check from there as well as the UK (its standard stuff) so I dreaded a painful wait as my application form head down under. Just heard yesterday from my housemate that I’ve a letter from them already! I just hope its not one saying I screwed up the form or something. Will find out later when I head home. So once I’ve got all that it goes to the lawyer and then I guess I await my interview at the US Embassy in London….

In other news, just read that Oasis have split up. Quite glad I saw them 3 times in June like a big nerd.

She. Just Her.

2009-07-17T18:21:00.000-07:00

This is the worst moment. It’s the point in my head, the time I’m too free almost. I’ve been trying to get used to not seeing my wife and its killing me. So many things have compounded themselves over the last few weeks that it sometimes feels too difficult to think straight. Although we’ve managed to get through an 8 hour time difference and a bad phone line it still doesn’t stop me from feeling like I need more. That’s not unusual I guess because from the foundations up I just want to see her.

The worst part of being away from her isn’t even close to being sad and lonely, it’s more than that. It’s like remembering your best ever holiday or seeing a photo of you with a person no longer with us… only there is no friend nearby who can empathise with you because it’s all in your heart so it can’t be endured by any others except yourself or her.

That is the single most painful thing about being away right now.

With that awful time difference, I can’t be there with my wife to tell her how I feel. She’s starting her day when mine ends. Your minds are not in sync all the time… I might call her and she’s on her way out to work whereas mine has started to close down for the day and just wants wholesome banter. It’s true that long distance relationships are hard but even in all the adversity ours works.

I know that because I’m married to her. I’m married to her because from the outset I knew I loved her, so no matter what I’ll always put her feelings before mine. It was a complete no brainer in that respect.

Be under no illusion though… this really isn’t easy. What your heart tells you is true and the fact you’ve let it rule your thoughts is a truly terrifying thing.

Only recently have I begun to realise all the things I’m leaving behind here in the UK. And this is the moment that your head takes over from your heart. It’s such a big deal isn’t it? I mean I’m giving up everything to move. It was only the other day when a friend of mine said we should all meet up (in a group text) saying because ‘it’s been a while and Tom is moving away forever so we won’t see him’ that it hit home.

I’m going to miss everyone terribly but you know what? Everyone I know has made decisions in their life to either be with someone… get married or have kids and move away… or just move away. It’s not the move it’s the people you leave behind. They tick along and everything just continues without you mind… my life will continue of course. But I won’t have anyone left from the UK in my LA life… fact!...ever.

So take into account the factors… I’m selling everything I own. Nothing can come with me and I’m saying goodbye to everyone I know. Write it like that and it sounds harsh but you know what its true! I’m leaving everything and starting again. Literally from scratch.

But I’ve done it before when I lived in Australia, I’ve got great friends and a big family network. I’ll just do it again… only this time it’s just well, forever.

I get scared yes and that’s normal. I get worried and that’s normal. You know, I’m just normal. I feel these things because it’s bloody normal.

Have I made the right choice? Yes. Am I in love? Yes. Will I have the support network there I have here. You bet. My wife, her mum, dad and siblings have been nothing short of spectacular inS making sure I’m welcome, loved and family. I really couldn’t ask for anything more.

I know I’ll be fine because I’ve been through moments of settling in… making work contacts and just mucking in. From the moment I fell in love with my wife I knew she could live on the flipping moon and I’d move there to be with her.

My heart knew.

That my friend is all I ever needed to know.

June Monsoon

2009-06-28T17:15:00.000-07:00

Ok so things are going to plan this month.

It didn't really begin as planned. Especially as the one night at Oasis I was invited to ended up with me heading out to all three nights. It came with differing levels of personal review, some though it heroic and others that I was insane. My wife agreed with the latter and found it amusing but ridiculous that I might want to attend the same gig three times. My body also agreed and said I was a complete dickhead for going three times, mainly the liver was the most offended by my actions, my eyes and ears were delighted. However in my mind I'd completed some sort of perverse life goal in the sense of a hat-trick on their home turf. Sad? Yeah probably but I don't care. It was great.

So that was the cut off point and I've been in moderation mode since. It involves being good to my body and giving nice fresh smoothies to it instead of crap. I'm on it folks.

I've ended up working on some top projects too. I'm producing a great music video I can't wait to tell you more about in the few weeks time and I finished my motor sports promo Race Control vimeo.com/motionpicture but really cool is a new project called purEUPHONIC where artists get paid properly for their efforts by selling though a cool new site - http://www.pureuphonic.com/ no more greedy people keeping the cash and you, the artist earn properly. It's with a guy who works in the states so I'll be able to continue there once I move.

Talking of the big move, nothing has been heard from any authorities yet but its only been a month and it takes three before I even get asked to submit anything more than the request. So in the meantime I've been working out some moving parameters... for me I'm excited to inherit the resident dogs who are great. Although it was quick to be pointed out to me that I've also now got to clean their crap up too. Maybe the old "selective blind eye" trick might be worth pulling here. Although its cleaning up or treading shit all over the house because the garden is an unavoidable manure minefield. Hmmm, tough one...

Another thing is my work and how to make the transfer abroad - I've already got the music stuff beginning which is great but I'd be keen to get an editing stystem set up. This is for when I set up the filming sided of my life there. I've no idea what will happen... perhaps I'll start with wedding videos... perhaps I'll even edit my own bash in the summer next year? I bloody hope not.

So July creeps around the corner and I'm wondering what it has in store...

Not a scooby doo. You?

Oasis are coming. The Farm beat me 7-3 at football

2009-06-01T14:09:00.000-07:00

Or is that soccer?

June is a low booze month. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. Ever since I got back from L.A as a married man I’ve been in a state of almost constant celebratory dinners, bbq’s, partys, gigs and er sporting events.

A week ago myself and the guys at In The City (work) played 3 games of 5-aside in the John Peel World cup over in Liverpool. We would have played more except we really sucked. I mean, we had never played together anyway and in true music industry fashion at least 80% of the team (5 including 3 subs) smoke and 60% NEVER exercise. Ever.

We got thrashed something like 7-3 by ageing Liverpool band The Farm. Altogether now, in no-mans land… you know the song, got to number one twice I think. Anyway they are all in their 40’s and fat whereas we are all in our 20’s and 30’s and less fat, but age wasn’t a good enough ally and clearly they’ve played together before. That’s my excuse anyway. For three days afterwards I felt like I’d been punched everywhere and I could barely climb the stairs for the first two of them. And I’m not in the 60% bracket either. I was just using muscles I’m not used to using. I mean, I use weights but I guess don’t run enough anymore. So… back to the start.

June is a low booze month. I decide at the weekend that’s it – minimal boozing. Perhaps the odd one.. but aside that nothing as I’ve got a six pack to reacquaint myself with. No, not that kind of six pack. I’m going to my wife’s Uncles birthday (now my Uncle too I guess) in mid June so there is one exception to the rule. But aside that. Nowt.

I then get an email yesterday from a friend who films all Oasis stuff asking if I want to go see them on Sunday at Heaton Park which is literally a 10 minute walk from my house. “Yes, that would be awesome!” I reply. Ok so that’s Sunday written off too.

No worries. But aside that, I’m taking the health kick majorly seriously.

Part of the process of moving to L.A takes place in a few weeks and it will be both a medical and police check. Well the latter I’m cool with as I’m a goody two shoes. I’m also cool with the former but I want to feel completely fit for it. I mean, I’ll be fine for it anyway (touch wood) but it’s just good to give yourself a goal and to stick to it as you do feel great for it in the end. That and in L.A its no good to be a porker.

Next time… teeth whitening?

May ends and I'm a married man

2009-05-29T04:36:00.000-07:00

And I'm sat in a the roasting hot tin that is the In The City office. For 6 months of the year I'm a music head and the other 6 I'm a TV head. The music head part of me lives here in this office unless I'm making a music film which means I have to go outside....

I started here in 2005 when I was made redundant from ITV Granada, or Granada TV if you are from the North West of England. I found out I'd lost my job just as I'd started to get producer credits which had taken a measly 5 years to achieve. Regional Tv was great like that, you'd go see the boss and they'd say "right we've no budget...anyone here able to use a camera?" so you'd be straight out at the deep end from the word go. I'd completed 13 programmes and spent 2 years working in the News Room by the time I'd left. As a runner I'd turned up from Nottingham with no idea about making TV or geography of the region.

Nobody actually says to you "This is how you make TV", you either sink or swim. I floated to begin with but soon found my rythmn and off I went. Cooking shows, Loads of Live TV, Travel Shows, Music Documentaries, People Documentaries and more. I was either lucky or quite good because I won 2 Royal Television awards while I was there which doesn't come about often. Best Regional Programme and Best Regional News Programme for a live show with the PM.

However the halcyon days had already begun to fade from Granada and the scissors were being sharpened for the giant job cut bonanza of 2005. I was one of about 30 in an office of 60 to go. Shucks.

Factory Records music mogul Tony Wilson rang me one day when I found out I was getting the chop to say "I hear you are being made redundant from that shite TV company down the road" (he was one of the main presenters over 20 years in various regional TV shows so yes, I felt the irony) "come and work for me instead, you'll love the music industry its miles more fun".

Can't believe I'm still here sometimes. We lost Tony to cancer in 2007 but I guess his spirit lives on in the convention and yeah he was right, after a pretty turbulent end to the Granada days the people in the Music industry provided an impulsive enthusiasm for its subject matter that I'd been gagging to endure. Wilson was right. Bestest....time....ever.

It was at In The City though that I met my other half. I'd invited her last year to come and talk at the convention and she obliged, flying all the way from LA to do so. It's fair to say we got on and bizarrely she thought I was quite amusing. As she's American admittedly I wondered if my humour would get lost on her but her Mum is English so she totally gets British humour. Result! I thought "stick with this one, she's really special".

Turns out she was more than that, I was completely bowled over with her and after just 3 weeks together we knew we had legs to make this work. So we did, and in April this year after meeting up again in the New Year I went to stay with her for a few weeks and my future was sealed.

She's completely gorgeous and by far the best thing that has ever happened to me.

We got married just before I came back to the UK (yes you read that right). So I'm home to finish off things, home to prepare to move, home to shift my work, home to say goodbye to everyone as I prepare to take my life to Los Angeles to be with my lovely wife. I'm about to pick my home up and move it 7000 miles. I've started the immigration process, the paperwork is in... this is it!

Immigration has begun

2009-05-20T09:40:00.000-07:00

Its really a rather short blog this one. I'm up to my neck in a whole load of work and papers. Once I've got my life into some sense of order (hopefully in the next couple of days) I'll get on it.