Bowl

I am not one to write much. So here's the abridged version of what happened. Glenn somehow convinced one of the interns at school to go go-karting with us at this big ass mall not too far from where we work. So we (Glenn, Brock and Myself) took the bus to where we were going to meet Sophie and her friend Mercedes(not a car, a human). We found them and got in the car, in which I had to hunch over or possibly suffer neck injuries if we hit a bump. We decicded not to do the go-karting cause we are a bunch of cheap bastards. Instead we went bowling. It was fun, but I suck ass at that sport. The shoes just aren't fly. After Glenn narrowly beat Brock by two points, we left ate some dope food then went to go to some bars. We tried to go to some pubs, but they were creepy old man bars where I guess old men hang out to talk about how old they are. We then went to a playground. It was a rocket ship. I liked it. We saw a traveler kind of guy with his large backpack on the same bus as us and he got off at the same stop as us. No one gets off at our stop. He threw up his giant hood which made him look like the bad guy from "Last Action Hero". He was kinda following us from a distance so I deemed him "The Night Ripper" and I thought he was going to murder us and wear my face as a mask. A very handsome mask. When we got home Brendan told us that we were having company over thanks to the couch surfing web site. As it turns out "The Night Ripper" was actually the company and his name is Dingo. He has been travelling Europe for around 2 and a half years. He is from Australia and he does fire spinning and street performing to earn money. He is rad. He called Brock an asshole. Thats about it.... DIngo is still here and we get to hear some awesome stories.

The Brekkan and Dingo

Where's Buggy?

For those of you, who, for some wretched reason, cannot foresee the general idea of this post, here is the family background of it.

All my life, I have lived in a family of four; mom, sister, grandma, (myself). Couldn't ask for a better family. However one of us has forced the rest of us into weird, unnatural habbits that general humans should not possess. For example, my sister watches television out of the corner of her eyes with her head turned away at a 35 degree angle (even when she is alone). If asked a question without my full attention I automatically respond no. Though some aspects of this post might sound harsh towards an elderly, it is completely nescessary. Keep in mind that we all love this woman and always will. Cheers Donna.

It has been in these last six years that a solid, daily pattern was discovered. Everyday after school, at whatever time I got home, this woman would be standing in the kitchen ready for my arrival with the same questions. Definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Always the same. She wore a concerned look of anticipation like the information I contained would shape the future and her important questions would unlock these secrets. The questions:

"What do you want for dinner?"
"Where are all your friends?"
"Do they want something to eat?"

-Ten minutes later...

"Do you want something to eat now?"
"What about something to drink?"
"Im going to start fixing dinner, what do you want?"
"Did you eat enough lunch today?"

So before you spew out the classic lines, "You are so mean", "you are so lucky", "I wish I had a grandma like that." etc.. There are some things I promise you overlooked. I still don't know how to use an oven, constant frustration. True, these are only six questions but each one of these follows a struture similiar to this:

Keep in mind that we all love this woman and always will.

Donna: "What do you want for dinner?"
Me: "Idk, anything."
Donna: "well pick something soon so I can cook it."
Me: "Just make anything, I'm not that hungry."
Donna: "What?"
Me: "It doesn't matter, make anything"
Donna: "What? The tv's on I can't hear you." (it was always on)
Me: "ANYTHING, DOESN'T MATTER"
Donna: "You don't have to yell."

-Pause-

Donna: "When do you want to eat?"
Me: "Whenever it's ready."
Donna: "What?"
Me: "In a bit."
Donna: "You have to speak louder."
Me: "IN A LITTLE WHILE."
Donna: "You could say it a little nicer."

If there is a way to scream as loud as you can in a polite fashion... I have yet to discover it. More time would pass. More conversations like this would pass. All starting the same. All ending the same. Everyday. For years.

Then my favorite question would always, always, be asked two or three times a day. Here is how this conversation generally goes.

Donna: "Where's Buggy? (My cat. Not her cat. My cat.)
Me: "I don't know"
Donna: "Well look for himmm"
Me: "Why, he's fine."
Donna: "What if he is outside?"
Me: "You're right, he could be walking around and stuff." (I often resorted to sarcasm after a certain point)
Donna: "What?
Me: "Nothing"
Donna: "I can't hear you."
Me: "NOTHING."
Donna: "I think you should find him before it gets too dark."
Me: "Oh, he is right here on my bed." (He wasn't)
Donna: "Okay, good." (Then she tries to call him downstairs for a while. "BUGGY, BUGGIERA, BUGGY...")
Me: "He doesn't want to go down stairs..." (she always spoke for the cat, why can't I?)

Keep in mind that we all love this woman and always will.

After countless conversations like this, my friends caught on quickly and started asking me "Where's Buggy?" at random intervals throughout the day. Recently however, since none of us have been at my house for several months, I had almost forgotten about this ongoing dissapearing cat situation in which I was always appointed chief detective on the case. Then, of course, when I least expect it... I get a christmas card from my Grandma (I know this because there is a post-it note on the card that tells me).

It reads:
Dear Glenn,

Love and merry Christmas. We had our first snowfall today. It was all white outside when I got up this morning, almost eight inches and cold, must be good at the ski slope. Buggy went out the door and just stood there and looked all around trying to decide whether he wanted to go out. I'm sure Buggy misses you and wonders where you are. I really miss you but I'm so happy you like being there and got such a good job and everything worked out for you and all the boys. Your mom said you like the fish. How do my tacos compare to theirs? Wonder if they would like my meat balls. Wish I could send you some. etc..

I cannot possibly try to explain how excited I am that my cat not only misses me, but that the search is finally over! At least for an hour or so..

So for those of you wondering, Buggy is alright and he went outside on November 27th, 2007. Probably sometime in the morning around nine or ten in the morning. He looked around a bit and became confused.. Thus silencing the question echoing in my thoughts every few hours since I started on this trip. Sleep at last.

Though it seems like our relationship is fragile and frustrating, I think we both had some fun in argueing. Sometimes they even ended in both of us not being able to keep straight faces while argueing about what kind of cookies Buggy liked, who was a better driver, and why we always get weird milk.

Keep in mind that we all love this woman and always will.

Love ya G-ma. :)

You Will Be Missed. (not you joel)

Yesterday was Martin Luther King Day for those of you who missed it. We over here in Spain seized the moment to celebrate one of our native holidays. We celebrated in a way that i think MLK would have appreciated. Maybe....

pourin' out some of my 40

celebrating?
A joint made of cookie crumbs. (Thanks for the cookies Donna)

Wrote Your Name in Wet Cement

We did our best to keep it a secret, but now it's official. The cat is out of the bag, running rampant around the quiet north Idaho havens that we once called home and digging in the dirt near the graves of everything we left behind.

Last Friday Joel narrowly escaped an expensive catastrophe and successfully boarded the vessel that would jettison him permanently from the tendrils of our odyssey. In the wake of his absence I find it necessary to place his departure in proper context and explain exactly what it means.

It means I can have the bottom bunk now.

It means I have to pay 40 more euros of rent each month.

It means Glenn has one less person to steal socks from.

It means my wardrobe will become significantly filthier as I have yet to learn how to operate our washing machine, always having been content with being blindly led by Joel's domestic mastery, conveniently washing clothes whenever he did.

It means the dishes may never be clean again.

It means I have to explain to concerned kindergartners that even though yes-Teacher Joel is your friend, no he is not coming back.

The truth is that it couldn't have been anyone other than Joel to go home first. That is not a slanderous claim, what I am trying to say is that he was the most balanced of the fraction of The Crew hosted by these foreign lands. The closest we had to a figurehead, the anchor that kept us from drifting too far from reality, the megaphone of reason that always made sure we got on the right train at the right time. And now he is gone.

What this means to me above all else is that if Joel can make it out alive then there is hope for the rest. As pretentious as I know it may sound (along with the entirety of this post) Joel's return represents the possibility for the rest of us to conquer the feelings burrowed beneath the skin that drove us out of the homeland in the first place. It is a promise that we may someday contentedly climb down the steps and drag our feet to the next phase of life. This is not an admission that any of us are ready to resign to a normal life. We are still thirsty, but at some point this well will dry up. When that day comes we too will be reunited with the rest of our loved ones back "home".

I miss you Joel, but as we both know our adventures together are far from over. Eventually I too will drift from this continent and together we will paint frenzy across the Land of the Brave. Same goes for everyone else I love in that country.

Sorry Joel, but I had to use this picture

A Whole Host of Roller Coaster Riders

A looming temptation that has forever taunted me during my time in Madrid has been the Warner Brother's Theme park that lies many kilometers from the vicinity of downtown. This past Sunday Adam and I were walking around Madrid with our respective visiting brothers looking for something to do. After we discovered that the museums that we wanted to go to were either closed or boasting long long lines we decided to do the next most enlightening thing-go to Warner World.

The place was pretty much deserted, it was the last day of the season for them and the entire park was a desolate playground where we could gleefully fill the gaps of eerie silence with expletives from our foreign language. The only other sounds that clung to the barren air were classy christmas songs and brassy big band tunes that everyone knows, but nobody knows the name of. We discovered the secrets of the Wayne mansion with Batman at our side, we blasted shady fuckers coveting our scooby snacks with laser guns, we dared succumb to Lex Luthor's latest dubious invention "The Invertatron", we rode some incredible roller coasters-one of which we can thank Superman for, and we were shot up and shortly thereafter plummeted from the highest freefall tower in Europe.

And we only had to wait in line once.

I'm not going to get too long winded on this one, we have some delightful video and pictures courtesy of Evan Holbert that will do the rest of the talking.

Deutschland Über Alles

Don't say that in Germany, you'll probably get arrested...

Glenn and I came to Germany on the 30th of December. It's been fantastic. Definately one the the highlights of my time in Europe.

We left our apartment at 11 at night thinking that we would make it to the airport before the buses stopped. We got one bus, but then the buses stopped, so we were stuck at a bus stop not very far away from the airport. So we went inside a bar to ask if there were buses or if we could call a taxi. Luckily there was a taxi driver in the bar... Perfect. So he got a glass of water, chugged it, then we drove to the airport with him. The airport was fine, we slept for about an hour or so then go in line. We eventually got on the plane (after sitting next to this guy that was totally taking a hooker to Germany... That bitch was weird... and disgusting... and he was like 40, balding, with a moustache...) Anyways... we got on the plane and sat there for about an hour because there was something wrong with the plane. So then they took us off and then put us back on 5 minutes later. It was fantastic.

We made it to Germany. Germany is beautiful. Then we got on a bus, then a train, then another train, and then got off one stop short of our destination... Damnit.

So we walked along the train tracks for a while in the rain, heard some bums yelling and throwing bottles... then we decided to get on the road. We waved down a car and I used my immaculate German skills to ask for a phone, but the guy didnt have one, but he pointed us to the tram station. We got there and I talked to some old lady and she said it was coming, but nothing happend for like 45 minutes. So we tried using a payphone, couldn't figure it out, then somehow Glenn got some people's attention and they invited us to use their phone in thier apartment. Those people are amazing. The dude called Alex for us and told him where we were and Alex and his roommate Daniel came and picked us up.

After that we went to a party at some chicks house. It was pretty fun, there were a ton of wasted Germans that were all super rad. But we were super tired so it kind of sucked. Then we went back to Alex's and slept.

New Years was rad. We started out at a LAN, drank some stuff, then walked to the main square thing were all hell was breaking loose. Drunk Germans everywhere blowing shit up. It was fantastic. I got hit in the leg by a loose firework, I knew it hurt, but didnt realize it did damage through my jeans until the next morning when I took a shower. Anyways... we saw a bunch of people from the night before and a lot of other people, and we blew stuff up and drank some more.

After that we went to this house party thing, it was pretty cool, but nothing out of the ordinary for a party, except that I hit a German with a firework and he almost kicked my ass, but luckily I was with some kid that I met 5 minutes before and he talked to him for me, and it was fine... haha. Rad.

The next day we slept. And the next day... etc.

Then on Friday we went back to the same house that we did on the first night and partied with all the same people. It was so damn fun. This is the one place that I've been that I have liked every single person that I have met. It was so fantastic... All of these kids are rad. Super nice, outgoing, funny, rad, weird, everything... So that night was super fun. I'll let the pictures show you. Then we went to Alex's parents' house and slept. Then woke up and had food prepared, it was fantastic.

Then the rest of the week we pretty much chilled at Alex's apartment. Played a lot of CSS and Halo, smoked hookah, and chilled. It was rad. Just being here with Alex and Daniel was amazing. It didn't feel like we had been apart for 2 or 3 years at all. And it also felt like we've been friends with Daniel the whole time also... It was perfect. So yeah, Glenn and I head back to Spain tomorrow, kind of sucks... but whatever. Alex, Daniel, and this kid Felix (He got trashed one night and broke down the door to his house because he couldnt find his keys, because they were in his pants, that he took off.... Anyway, he ran into his house naked and yelled at his parents and told them to get out... That kid is intense. Hahaha.) But they might come to America this summer... so that would be tubular. Much loves. Enjoy da pics yo...