WAKE UP EARLY
TO MY BIRTHDAY
TRAIN
SIT WITH CANADIAN
SIT WITH GERIATRIC
BANTER
CONFUSING BANTER
SHEEP
TO INTERRUPT
TALK OF MOROCCO
HOTEL
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
SHOWERS
SCOTCH AND WHISKEY
HOT TODDIES
ABERFELDY
MUSEUM FULL OF
SCOTCH AND
WHISKEY AND
FRENCH CHILDREN
CASTLE
AN INDECISIVE CAREY
THEREFORE
IMPROMPTU
PUB CRAWL
THE LAST DROP
TATTIES
GHOST TOUR
JEKYL AND HYDE
SCARED SPANIARD
FROM TAKEAWAY BOX
CONJURED BY WIND
RANDOM BAR
CLANS OF SCOTLAND
DRUNKEN APPROACH
FROM IRN BRU(TE)
AND VODKA
BOOK IT
HEAD TO MUSIC
LOOK FOR TOILET
ACCOSTED BY BAR
WRONG TOILET
OBAMA SIGN
VEGETARIAN SIGN
CLOSE SIGN
HOMELESS BANTER
CLOSET PUB
BITTERS AND
CIDER AND
BLACK
BLOODY BRUTE
BOOK IT
GOLDEN ARCHES
ROAD TO PERDITION
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
PASS OUT
WAKE UP LATE
CAFE
RIVERSIDE MOTHERFUCKER
CAMERA OBSCURA
NATIONAL GALLERY
DUTCH ART
HOGARTH
MISS
DIANE ARBUS
GRAVEYARD
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
BLACKENED FROM
INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION
ONE LAST LOOK
ALL IS BREATHTAKING
HEAD TO TRAIN
TO GLASGOW...
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
reminiscing of a time i never knew...
to think there used to be booths where one could record their own voice on a 45.
What happened to those days?
the sounds of moving around:
song/artist
godspeed////////////////////////////jenny lewis
in the aeroplane over the sea///////neutral milk hotel
when my boy walks down the street///the magnetic fields
bearbones///////////////////////////total babe
the only ones///////////////////////pipas
la javanaise////////////////////////serge gainsbourg
hey where are you///////////////////van morrison
i thought i saw your face today/////she & him
i'm afraid of americans/////////////david bowie
the fun powder plot/////////////////wild beasts
no fun//////////////////////////////iggy pop and the stooges
listening man///////////////////////the bees
starstruck//////////////////////////the kinks
california//////////////////////////joni mitchell
What happened to those days?
the sounds of moving around:
song/artist
godspeed////////////////////////////jenny lewis
in the aeroplane over the sea///////neutral milk hotel
when my boy walks down the street///the magnetic fields
bearbones///////////////////////////total babe
the only ones///////////////////////pipas
la javanaise////////////////////////serge gainsbourg
hey where are you///////////////////van morrison
i thought i saw your face today/////she & him
i'm afraid of americans/////////////david bowie
the fun powder plot/////////////////wild beasts
no fun//////////////////////////////iggy pop and the stooges
listening man///////////////////////the bees
starstruck//////////////////////////the kinks
california//////////////////////////joni mitchell
Monday, September 28, 2009
VISITING GAY FRIENDS: ITALIAN STYLE
DAYS TWO THROUGH... SEVEN?:
There are only certain ways to describe my trip to Italy, so I'll briefly recap with a list of unforgettable things:
- Stuffing a large purse full of items for a four day trip.
- Barely making buses/trains/flights.
(and almost shedding some built up tears at the Liverpool Street Station.)
- Getting mistaken for an Italian.
- Unknowingly being offered poppers in a bar.
- Getting far to drunk and hitting on a boy with glasses who didn't speak any English.
- Having a greasy dude shove his tongue down my throat.
(I wish I could forget that one)
- Losing 30 Euros.
- Dropping my phone in the toilet at a Kebab place.
- Spending the night on the door step of the apartment I was locked out of.
- Eating gelato every day.
- Visiting the Leaning Tower of Pisa at night.
- Walking up oh so many steps and upon steep hills to get to the most beautiful view
of Firenze with a couple of beers, kebabs, and a best friend.
- Finding out how to say "eat my dick" in Italian after having someone repeatedly yell
it to me and a group of friends.
- No smiling while walking down the street.
- Seeing two fake Davids.
- More gelato.
- Watching "My Cousin Vinny."
- The graffiti.
- The statues.
And that's about as brief as I could get...
There are only certain ways to describe my trip to Italy, so I'll briefly recap with a list of unforgettable things:
- Stuffing a large purse full of items for a four day trip.
- Barely making buses/trains/flights.
(and almost shedding some built up tears at the Liverpool Street Station.)
- Getting mistaken for an Italian.
- Unknowingly being offered poppers in a bar.
- Getting far to drunk and hitting on a boy with glasses who didn't speak any English.
- Having a greasy dude shove his tongue down my throat.
(I wish I could forget that one)
- Losing 30 Euros.
- Dropping my phone in the toilet at a Kebab place.
- Spending the night on the door step of the apartment I was locked out of.
- Eating gelato every day.
- Visiting the Leaning Tower of Pisa at night.
- Walking up oh so many steps and upon steep hills to get to the most beautiful view
of Firenze with a couple of beers, kebabs, and a best friend.
- Finding out how to say "eat my dick" in Italian after having someone repeatedly yell
it to me and a group of friends.
- No smiling while walking down the street.
- Seeing two fake Davids.
- More gelato.
- Watching "My Cousin Vinny."
- The graffiti.
- The statues.
And that's about as brief as I could get...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
So begins my new adventures...
After a week of intense traveling with some intense luggage to carry, I've made it to my destination: Hull, UK.
Here's a nice long recap of the last week...
DAY ONE:
I arrive in London at 7:55am with no real idea of where I'm supposed to end up at the end of the day. A friend who has resided in London for about two years (AKA Sebastian) offered me up a room for the night and my luggage a resting place for the duration of my trip to Italy (Ryanair really gets you on those luggage charges).
This is the only knowledge I have for the day:
1. Sebastian's address. (but no real directions or a contact number)
2. Sebastian's work schedule. (9:30 - 5:30)
3. Sebastian's suggestion to purchase a day pass for the tube, and to leave my luggage in a locker at the Liverpool Street Station.
4. A London: A-Z book.
Realizing I have an entire work day to fill with things to do in a big city absolutely foreign to me, I awkwardly wheel my two pieces of luggage filled with about a years worth of my life about the underground. On two different occasions, a Londoner saw me struggle, (also probably heard me cursing) and offered to help me. Other than that, most people just walked by. On the tube, I did meet a very nice lady who wanted to talk about religion and politics, which we all know are very wonderful introductory topics of conversation.
After dropping off my luggage, I leave the Liverpool Street Station, and finally set foot above ground for the first time in London. This is when I realize that I forgot to grab an umbrella from my luggage. I walk around in the rain, and try to find somewhere to eat. Please remember, this is my first time outside of the U.S., and I'm alone. I'm too afraid to cross the streets, so I stand around, and wait till other people start crossing the street. I come up to a couple of intersections where there are no visible walking signs, yet cars passing by. There are no other pedestrians in sight. I get so nervous, I just turn around and start walking the other way.
I realize there are men in suits EVERYWHERE. It is quite ridiculous. Don't get me wrong. I think men look very nice in suits, and I also wish more men would dress up in Albuquerque, but I just keep wondering what these men are dressed up for. None of them are in buildings, working their little hearts out. They are flooding the tube and the streets with their 9 to 5 chic fashion, and making it much harder for me to stop and figure out where the hell I am.
I get back on the tube, and take it to Westminster. I walk around until it is absolutely pouring outside. I duck into a sandwich shop, and just order whatever the person before me orders because nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing really sounds that appetizing. I just really need a place to sit, and my stomach had begun to get verbal about its hunger. I eat a bacon and avocado with yogurt sandwich, and it's just mushy. I am able to eat a fourth of the sandwich and drink a coffee before I head out to see if there is anything else of interest.
After about four more hours of just wandering around, I trek back to collect my luggage, and decide that a taxi to take me exactly where I need to be without any more worries is worth ten pounds. I get to Sebastian's address, and find out that there is someone else staying with this friend of mine, and that I could have arrived at his house earlier.
The other girl staying there is really nice, and I warm up to her instantly, as I do with Sebastian's flatmates. Chloe, the other girl is just staying for the week. She's living in Barcelona, but is interning for London Fashion Week. Brian, one of the roommates is Irish and very attractive, which automatically means he's gay. And there's Lina, the other roommate. She is really nice and funny and originally from Sweden; However, I don't think she understands this fixation America has on Scandinavia. I just enjoy dinner with them, and learn a few things about living in the UK. Then Sebastian with a wine stained mouth arrives. We say hi, and I give him the Buffalo Chipotle he requested. He stays up and talks to Chloe, and I try to figure out how to get to Stansted Airport the next morning for my flight to Italy.
Next entry, my Italy experience...
I will also follow up with a mix tape song list that I've created for my friends.
Here's a nice long recap of the last week...
DAY ONE:
I arrive in London at 7:55am with no real idea of where I'm supposed to end up at the end of the day. A friend who has resided in London for about two years (AKA Sebastian) offered me up a room for the night and my luggage a resting place for the duration of my trip to Italy (Ryanair really gets you on those luggage charges).
This is the only knowledge I have for the day:
1. Sebastian's address. (but no real directions or a contact number)
2. Sebastian's work schedule. (9:30 - 5:30)
3. Sebastian's suggestion to purchase a day pass for the tube, and to leave my luggage in a locker at the Liverpool Street Station.
4. A London: A-Z book.
Realizing I have an entire work day to fill with things to do in a big city absolutely foreign to me, I awkwardly wheel my two pieces of luggage filled with about a years worth of my life about the underground. On two different occasions, a Londoner saw me struggle, (also probably heard me cursing) and offered to help me. Other than that, most people just walked by. On the tube, I did meet a very nice lady who wanted to talk about religion and politics, which we all know are very wonderful introductory topics of conversation.
After dropping off my luggage, I leave the Liverpool Street Station, and finally set foot above ground for the first time in London. This is when I realize that I forgot to grab an umbrella from my luggage. I walk around in the rain, and try to find somewhere to eat. Please remember, this is my first time outside of the U.S., and I'm alone. I'm too afraid to cross the streets, so I stand around, and wait till other people start crossing the street. I come up to a couple of intersections where there are no visible walking signs, yet cars passing by. There are no other pedestrians in sight. I get so nervous, I just turn around and start walking the other way.
I realize there are men in suits EVERYWHERE. It is quite ridiculous. Don't get me wrong. I think men look very nice in suits, and I also wish more men would dress up in Albuquerque, but I just keep wondering what these men are dressed up for. None of them are in buildings, working their little hearts out. They are flooding the tube and the streets with their 9 to 5 chic fashion, and making it much harder for me to stop and figure out where the hell I am.
I get back on the tube, and take it to Westminster. I walk around until it is absolutely pouring outside. I duck into a sandwich shop, and just order whatever the person before me orders because nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing really sounds that appetizing. I just really need a place to sit, and my stomach had begun to get verbal about its hunger. I eat a bacon and avocado with yogurt sandwich, and it's just mushy. I am able to eat a fourth of the sandwich and drink a coffee before I head out to see if there is anything else of interest.
After about four more hours of just wandering around, I trek back to collect my luggage, and decide that a taxi to take me exactly where I need to be without any more worries is worth ten pounds. I get to Sebastian's address, and find out that there is someone else staying with this friend of mine, and that I could have arrived at his house earlier.
The other girl staying there is really nice, and I warm up to her instantly, as I do with Sebastian's flatmates. Chloe, the other girl is just staying for the week. She's living in Barcelona, but is interning for London Fashion Week. Brian, one of the roommates is Irish and very attractive, which automatically means he's gay. And there's Lina, the other roommate. She is really nice and funny and originally from Sweden; However, I don't think she understands this fixation America has on Scandinavia. I just enjoy dinner with them, and learn a few things about living in the UK. Then Sebastian with a wine stained mouth arrives. We say hi, and I give him the Buffalo Chipotle he requested. He stays up and talks to Chloe, and I try to figure out how to get to Stansted Airport the next morning for my flight to Italy.
Next entry, my Italy experience...
I will also follow up with a mix tape song list that I've created for my friends.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Dreams do come true...
sort of.
The past month has consisted of the following:
-getting over Jose.
(reading Jeffrey Brown comics and watching
(500) Days of Summer haven't helped.)
-saving money for the big move.
(I'm actually in debt now, moreso than i was
before.)
-fulfilling my duties as a "fruit fly".
(finding young attractive single men for my
young attractive gay doods.)
-alienating myself from any potential romantic encounters.
(getting drunk and informing jewish boys about
my interest in becoming a shiksa.)
on a positive note, it finally happened. after months of stalking the "missed connections" section of craigslist, somebody wrote one to me.
Title:
Jessica-you have been a guest DJ at Burt’s on many Thursday nights (UNM)
Body:
Hi Jessica! You are so adorable and sexy!!!! I have spoke to you only once and this is when you worked at Urban. I had no idea you worked there and was so surprised and nervous. You complimented me on my shirt and all I could say was thank you. I wish I had sparked up a conversation.
I haven’t run into you in months so I thought I would post this. I am no longer able to go to burt’s on Thurs and I miss dancing and seeing you there. I love when you dance. So needless to say, I am infatuated☺ I have never had a crush on a girl- you are my first. I don’t know your orientation and I hope you are not offended by my post. I don’t think I could forgive myself if I didn’t at least let you know I like you.
I don’t know if you are seeing anyone, but if not I would love to take you out for dinner, coffee, movie or just to talk(I would love to know things about you). But if you are with someone please know I think they are lucky to be with you. My one request is that if you have stumbled across this post you at least email me to let me know you read it regardless if you are interested in knowing who I am. If you know Jessica please let her know there is a post for her to read. It would be most appreciated.
With the utmost sincerity,
Your admirer ☺
although a little skewed, i still sit here quite flattered, and in my last thought, reply with a "take that, Jose!"
The past month has consisted of the following:
-getting over Jose.
(reading Jeffrey Brown comics and watching
(500) Days of Summer haven't helped.)
-saving money for the big move.
(I'm actually in debt now, moreso than i was
before.)
-fulfilling my duties as a "fruit fly".
(finding young attractive single men for my
young attractive gay doods.)
-alienating myself from any potential romantic encounters.
(getting drunk and informing jewish boys about
my interest in becoming a shiksa.)
on a positive note, it finally happened. after months of stalking the "missed connections" section of craigslist, somebody wrote one to me.
Title:
Jessica-you have been a guest DJ at Burt’s on many Thursday nights (UNM)
Body:
Hi Jessica! You are so adorable and sexy!!!! I have spoke to you only once and this is when you worked at Urban. I had no idea you worked there and was so surprised and nervous. You complimented me on my shirt and all I could say was thank you. I wish I had sparked up a conversation.
I haven’t run into you in months so I thought I would post this. I am no longer able to go to burt’s on Thurs and I miss dancing and seeing you there. I love when you dance. So needless to say, I am infatuated☺ I have never had a crush on a girl- you are my first. I don’t know your orientation and I hope you are not offended by my post. I don’t think I could forgive myself if I didn’t at least let you know I like you.
I don’t know if you are seeing anyone, but if not I would love to take you out for dinner, coffee, movie or just to talk(I would love to know things about you). But if you are with someone please know I think they are lucky to be with you. My one request is that if you have stumbled across this post you at least email me to let me know you read it regardless if you are interested in knowing who I am. If you know Jessica please let her know there is a post for her to read. It would be most appreciated.
With the utmost sincerity,
Your admirer ☺
although a little skewed, i still sit here quite flattered, and in my last thought, reply with a "take that, Jose!"
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
A CHANGE IN ADDRESS
I have come to face the inevitable problem (nearly) every early twenty something slacker must face. And that is the possibility of moving back in with good old mom and dad. Without revealing too much baggage given to me by good old mom and dad, which I am forced to carry with me day in and day out, this is a hopeful move rather than a painful one.
The positive side to this weary decision is the fact that the money that slips from my possession month after month to a place that isn't really mine can now go to a wonderful trip. The destination is Italy. For about a month, I shall occupy a floor in the apartment in a good friend's flat in Italy whilst he attends grad school. After this month, we'll be free to go anywhere and everywhere. The plan is France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, England, Scotland, Egypt(?), etc.
What this all boils down to is...
I need to get the fuck out of Albuquerque.
The positive side to this weary decision is the fact that the money that slips from my possession month after month to a place that isn't really mine can now go to a wonderful trip. The destination is Italy. For about a month, I shall occupy a floor in the apartment in a good friend's flat in Italy whilst he attends grad school. After this month, we'll be free to go anywhere and everywhere. The plan is France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, England, Scotland, Egypt(?), etc.
What this all boils down to is...
I need to get the fuck out of Albuquerque.
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