California cool

YOU know… for as long as I care to remember, I’ve considered myself ‘cool’.

I really have.

When I was younger I had long hair, and I actually thought I was Kurt Cobain.

And as I’ve grown older I’ve felt I’ve maintained that hip stance.

I’ve played guitar since my early teens, I’ve always liked good music and movies, I’ve hung out with other ‘cool’ people, and I like to think I still dress well, um, ‘cool’.

I even think my parents – my dad being a huge blues fan – are pretty up there too.

But any belief I had in all that has faded like old fat kipper ties in the wardrobe during the last few weeks as Jacks and I have explored San Diego, and indeed California.

In the last few weeks we’ve met ‘cool’.

And his/her name is Chad… Arthur… Roxy… or something even cool-sounding.

These guys… they’re ‘hipsters’.

They’re the epitome of cool and hip, or whatever you call it in this age.

They have at least a couple of tattoos, androgynous hair styles and they boast the finest groomed moustaches or beards a man could cultivate.

They wear colourful Ray Ban sunglasses with thrift store purchased skinny jeans and faded t-shirts or lumberjack-style shirts. And they all seem so thin and pale even their fatigued figures seem fashionable.

Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE also seems to naturally be in a band.

The girl who served us a slice of pizza in Golden Hills, SD, was in a band; the kid with the skateboard was in a band, and of course the girl smoking on the sidewalk (pavement) walking the dog in North Park was in a band.

It’s much like how everyone in London seems to work in PR.

“Who are these people?!” I asked a friend during the recent Golden Hills Street Fest we attended.

“Hipsters…” she replied.

“… Californian, hipsters.”

The one and only thing which seems to make me cool and interesting to others is my English accent – but even then people seem to think I’m Australian.

Sadly, I can’t compete - no matter how hard I try...

Fail

Oh well.

When did everyone become so bloody cool? Was I asleep? Was I not paying attention? Was I in TIJUANA?!

I’ve seen a few of what I’d call ‘hipsters’ before in England– or at least people who thought they were hipsters – but here is where they seem to live and breed.

Even their pets are cool, and they could quite believably also be in a band.

So yes, Jacks and I have been out exploring San Diego, and meeting people.

It takes time to get to grips with new surroundings. And of course to meet people you’d call ‘friends’.

Where’ve I been? Where did the blog updates go…?

Well, we got married.

Ay caramba

And then we went on our honeymoon.

Life's a beach

There, that’s a good excuse right?

Without boring you all too much, our wedding was pretty much perfect.

There was no fear of it ever raining on our wedding day here in San Diego because, well, it just doesn’t really rain here.

It was a short and simple affair carried out under bluebird skies among the company of new friends and family.

The ceremony completed the amazing fairy-tale story which we’ve been living for the past 18 months.

And then we buggered off to Fiji to spend time on a near-deserted island for a couple of weeks.

Note: Isn’t it funny that within 30 seconds of being married people begin to ask you about babies?!

Sheesh… yes everything’s happened in a very short space of time but hey, give us a break!

Aside from all that I’ve come back to work on the most exciting and amazing project of my career.

The hugely talented Alejandra Cerball and I now co-anchor U-T TV’s U-T San Diego News from Monday to Friday.

News team assemble

It’s a new hour-long prime-time show which airs from 5pm (1am GMT) and then re-airs at 7pm (3am GMT) on U.S. cable and online.

If you want to see it, tune into Cox 114 or AT&T 17/1017 on U.S. cable, or watch it live online at www.utsandiego.com/tv/.

On air

So there you go.

I’m an anchorman in San Diego… and no, my apartment doesn’t smell like rich mahogany.

@tristan_nichols

De-stressing a wedding

THE DICTIONARY definition of 'marriage' is the 'legal union of a man and woman as husband and wife' (depending of course on the state or country you live in).
What the dictionary fails to mention is all the bits before and in-between which threaten to de-rail your life like a horribly expensive runaway train.

The stress, the chaos, the planning, the intricate delicate flower button holes…

Our take on our wedding – sod a lot of the usual bullsh*t. It’s about us, it’s our turn to be selfish, and to enjoy our moment as we want.

No stress. No bullsh*t. Just smiles.

Yes, by now our plans for the wedding are in full flow.

Date set (Friday 13^th September), venue booked, honeymoon paid for.

*cue brief sigh, content expression and placing of feet on foot rest*

And... relax

It’s funny how men and women differ in terms of their mental state for such an occasion.

(And I know full well that female readers of this blog will roll their eyes and consider me a 'typical' male).

But given the unusual nature of how we came together, I feel like any stress on my side leading up to such an event has already been expended.

Quitting the comfortable lifestyle in the UK, moving continents to be with the ‘one’, adapting to life in a Mexican home, spending seven months trying to get the U.S. visa to allow me to accept the TV job, finding and buying the engagement ring, planning the proposal etc etc.

All THAT was stressful.

The wedding for me is a walk in the park!

Stress: Banned

Simply agree and say ‘I do’ with everything that the registrar asks right?

Well, I’m trying not to let it stress me out in any case.

By now I’ve been to, and experienced, enough weddings in my time to understand how NOT to do it.

In this case less is not more in terms of stress.

Not the image we want associated with our wedding!

Wedding ring shopping a few weeks’ back in Tijuana…

Me: “That’s nice, that’ll do.”

First jewellery shop, first ring I looked at. Job done.

Jacky: “What do you think of this one? Or this one? Or this one?! Shall we get them engraved?”

Yes, Jacks is taking the lead on this one.

Whatever she wants, I’m happy with. I’d tattoo my finger, or wrap a lollipop stick around it if that’s what she wants.

Thankfully I’ve not been a part of the search for the wedding dress.

Jacks spent the best part of a month in two different countries, as well as online, searching for THE ‘perfect’ dress.
Of course a month isn't that long given the seriousness of the dress situation.
No stone left unturned. The Holy Grail would have been easier to stumble across I'm sure.

Despite the obvious stress it was causing my future spouse, I couldn’t help but sit back and feel lucky I wasn’t allowed to be part of it.

So now she has the ‘perfect’ dress.

And what does Jacks want to do now? Make ‘adjustments’ to make it even more perfect.

I have no idea what to expect. But suffice to say, she’ll look amazing even if she wore a bin liner.

Note Jacks… this is an expression NOT a suggestion!

It’s her moment to be a princess.

And I’m just happy she’s finally, nearly, happy. Nearly.

My mum has also been going pretty crazy with the idea of it all – among other things designing and making flower button holes, and then skyping me simply to show me.

Note mum, for the record… they look fab.

My brother has also been asking if we should be “co-ordinated” in what the men are wearing.

Pfah.

I may sound pretty nonchalant about everything and it’s fair to say I’m pretty laid back about the ‘big’ day.

I’m organised, I’m determined, and I’m feeling good.

My cameraman joked – to the horror of his girlfriend – that he wouldn’t wear a suit to the occasion. Would I care?! No way! We’re in California man!
You want to rock up in boardies and flip flops - do it!

My mum doesn’t quite see it that way but give it a few days over here and she’ll fit into the groove I’m sure.

I’m just giving myself a big old personal high-five that I’ve found the most amazing girl in the world, and that she wants to publicly state that she wants to spend the rest of her life with me. I mean… ME!

Eek.

So yes, getting married away from our normal ‘homes’ allows us some amount of freedom and peace.

I mean, we don’t have to go to church; attend marriage guidance classes (that was the scenario if we opted for marriage in Mexico!); organise a huge stag/hen do; or pay for a hundred people we really don’t care that much about to be fed and watered!

Instead we have a simple theme, a lovely setting, with people here who have helped us along the way. And we have more money for the honeymoon.

The setting for our wedding (the building faces the ocean)

It will be stripped back and perfect, allowing us – to a certain degree – to be selfish and let the hectic world revolve around us for a single moment in time.

Our moment is made by us, for us.

San Diego and TJ are, by their very nature, transient places.

So us, as foreigners, getting married here seems to be the perfect set up.

And we can’t wait!

Actually I have to tell you all a pretty funny anecdote from a couple of months ago.

So after deciding to get married downtown at the administration building, we popped down to get our license for the occasion.

While we were sat there most (it seemed) of Southern California’s news networks, presenters and photographers rushed into the office in a frantic rush.

In a bizarre moment of fate the woman registrar dealing with us looked up and asked “are these here for you…?!”

We couldn’t help but laugh.

It turned out, that on that very afternoon, a ban on gay marriage in California had been lifted.

We walked out of the office after getting our license feeling like we were on the red carpet at Cannes with – I’m sure – many of the presenters wondering if I was actually there to book my ‘civil’ wedding to my ‘partner’.

I hope they’re reading this now just to clear up any confusion!

So yes, all systems go…

A month to go and I’m still pinching myself, as is Jacks, that we’re not actually living a dream.

That’s how it feels. A dream, within a dream.

Oh, on a side note can I also just say a quick thank you to all you lovely people who have been reading this blog over the past year.

We’re now well past 10,000 page views in 30+ countries.

It seems ‘Crazy Beautiful Madness In Mexico…’ is really popular in Germany, Russia, Latvia, South Korea, Canada and Hong Kong… as well as Mexico, the UK and the US.

Who’d have thought it! I can't believe it!

Each and every one of you is a part of this magical story.

Thanks for lending me your eyes!

Sending you all much love x


@tristan_nichols

Don't wanna be an American idiot

IT’S stupid-o-clock. It’s some time between 2am and 2.30am and I can’t sleep.

I probably would have been able to sleep had I not incorrectly set the air conditioning/thermostat thing to ‘ludicrous’ heat before settling into bed.

My dreams began peaceful and placid and slowly progressed to being infinitely weird and hell-like.

You know those dreams where you’re parched and desperately trying to find something to drink? You got it, times infinity.

Air conditioning is admittedly something I’ve never been able to get my head around.

I mean, hailing from England how or why the hell would I know how to operate an air conditioning unit?

All I’ve ever done is light gas fires to combat the freezing winters.

Air conditioning? Pfah.

Where I come from ‘air conditioning’ is opening or closing a window. Or asking your flatulent friend to leave the room.

Holidays in Egypt… that’s what air conditioning is designed for for us Brits.

So yes, I can’t sleep. My bedroom, and in fact my entire apartment, is currently a blazing furnace.

I’m in a state of undress with sweat dripping from my brow onto the keyboard. Ewww…

It’s warmer in here than it is in the desert on a summer’s day.

I hear you… ‘open the windows’ and ‘stop whingeing’!

They’re open. And it’s really warm outside. Even at stupid-o-clock.

San Diego, it seems, doesn’t do ‘chilly’.

It’s actually so warm here throughout each and every day, that the city’s parks and recreational spaces boast an unbelievable amount of tramps – or ‘bums’ as they’re called here.

They’re largely harmless. They just sit around sleeping, acting weird occasionally if anyone offers them a glance.

It’s like a year-round bum summer camp. And we’re their entertainment.

Honesty deserves charity

Anyhow I digress.

As I write this I’m also Googling the bloody air-con unit instruction manual in the hope that I can rest easy tonight without the sleep/sauna detox.

I might talk the talk and walk the walk but there is no doubt, here in the U.S. I am a still a stranger in a foreign land – just as much as I was in next-door Tijuana.

I’m daily misunderstood, and often confused.

In the nine weeks that I’ve been here in San Diego I can tell you that Americans are a fascinating bunch.

Oh and in case you didn’t know, they are crazily open and honest about health and religion.

These are two things that people here love to talk about openly.

These are two things that we Brits never really talk about when we’re in the UK.

We have a funny way of avoiding discussions concerning our illnesses, ailments, and of course religious leanings.

Personally I’m not really comfortable talking about either – especially with someone I’ve just met.

“What do you take?” I was asked recently.

“When?”

“Now? Nothing, I feel fine”.

Again: “Seriously... what do you take?”

Me: “Uh… aspirin or ibuprofen for a headache… a ‘Lemsip’ if I’ve got a cold…?”

“Aha…”

*cue long lingering stare*

“And…?”

*stare continues*

“And… nothing… I don’t take anything. Nothing to get me through the day, nothing to help me sleep, nothing.”

“Isn’t that weird?” I was then asked.

“What REALITY?”

It’s only when you go to a supermarket (otherwise known here as a ‘grocery store’) that you begin to appreciate the national obsession with remedies.

Drugs - 'aisle' buy that for a dollar!

Shelves and aisles of pills and potions to cure everything from headaches and sports injuries, to sleep deprivation and toothaches. There are pills for things I’ve never heard of.

And natural remedies featuring seemingly unnatural-sounding ingredients.

'

'D3 5000 I.U.'....? Isn't that a brand of motor oil?

Sure, we have pharmacies in England but wow.

I’m sure there’s actually medication for medication here.

When you’re seen to be new to town religion is the other big talking point.

Within seconds of meeting some people they’ll ask you if you go to church and if you want to go to their church.

I always consider that I must have sinned during the conversation leading up to that point and that they’re trying to cleanse my soul as a result.

I immediately feel uncomfortable and I try to joke my way out of it.

Bad move.

So forgive me.

The actual process of greeting someone here in California (or indeed the U.S.) also confuses me on a daily occurrence.

Rather than simply offering a hardy handshake or a pat on the back, people here seem obsessed with a greeting known as ‘fist-bumping’ – or variations of it.

Bump day

How the pros do it

It’s basically the action of putting out your fist for someone else to ‘bump’ with their own fist.

I’ve observed plenty of Californians doing it here and I must admit, they look cool.

I however, do not.

There are simply too many variations for me to get my head around.

There’s the actual fist bump. Then there’s the high-five. And there’s some of other part-handshake part-grip thing.

And these are just three of the more popular types of greetings.

And for me, who is new to town and the whole fist-bump thing, I panic when someone puts out their fist or hand because I don’t know which greeting they’re planning on using.

It’s always an awkward moment and, despite the fact that the whole thing is supposed to look and feel ‘cool’, I don’t. I can almost feel my coolness dripping away as and when someone puts out their hand for the bump , or slap, or whatever.

I always hesitate.

Once or twice I admit, I’ve pretty much just thought ‘bollocks to it’ and shaken the outstretched bump fist.

Epic fail.

I actually freak out that one day I’m going to face-palm someone by accident.

So I’ve taken to YouTube to try and teach myself some basic rules…

Check them out: www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZ70wbfRqh0 / www.youtube.com/watch?v=2SXtWCBI2zg.

Anyhow. People are strange when you’re a stranger right?

Hey, I noticed my last blog post was popular in Latvia.

Bizarre, but very cool. Welcome Latvians!

At the bottom of this blog is a ‘translate’ icon if anyone wants to read it in a different language.

I can’t promise my ramblings will make any more sense but hey.

Thanks for lending me your eyes.

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