The picture above is the newest member of our growing household. Can you believe I got it for free?
Seriously! That chair would have cost probably something like $100 in the store, and it was just sitting there next to the dumpster waiting to be taken. Sure, it may only have one out of five wheels, and it may wobble a bit more than is safe for frequent use, but it is one comfy chair!
Oh, yes. I also got a cat. His name is Koopa (like the turtles from Mario) and he is adorable—annoyingly so.
Me: (pointing to a necklace with a couple gold rings on it) So, are those, like, from the Lord of the Rings or something?
My Co-worker: Actually, my parents died when I was a baby, and these are their wedding rings.
Me: ...
...and...
Me: Did you know that 25% of the particulates in Los Angeles are from China?
Different Co-worker: Oh? Damn immigrants.
Me: ...
...and another...
Guy on Street: Hey, who are you supposed to be?
Me: I am Captain Organic, I deliver pizza for Galactic Pizza.
Guy on Street: I could go for a slice.
Me: Oh, sorry! I do not have any pizza on me.
Guy on Street: I was talking about you.
Me: ...
...they just keep coming...
Me: Here is your pizza.
Deliveree: Thanks... so I guess it is pretty cold out today?
Me: Yeah! It sure is. [I get in the gizmo and start going back to home base]
Me: (realizing that you can see my nipples through the spandex) ...
Less than twenty-four hours remain in our illustrious voyage to a faraway land, so that now, sitting in bed after a somewhat unsatisfactory breakfast (for the bagels and English muffins and toast they had all varieties of jam, jelly, and preserves: razz berry, apricot, grape, strawberry, etc.; however, they were limited to one very bland and sad choice of peanut butter: creamy; how odd!), I once again find my thoughts turning to life-pertinent things, like rent, bills, work, and just what the heck everybody has been up to for the past week and a half!
Here, in my particular fashion, is what I have been doing: took a bus to Los Angeles from Oceanside in order to catch a bus going further up the coast to San Luis Opisbo, unfortunately, because we were not privy to the "line" situation, we stood in the wrong section, and when our bus arrived, we were complained out of our slightly illegitimate spot in line, which resulted in the bus leaving (full) without us aboard; we ended up being required to wait five hours for another bus going to the same place, but, luckily, our money was refunded (actually, $2 extra was refunded per ticket, but they did not seem to care when I informed them) and we were given a free meal ticket for the station's food court (which, similar to the meal I had this morning, was rather bland and not-good), so I do not consider the wait a complete loss; the previously mentioned sister's boyfriend's aunt allowed us to sleep in her domicile for a couple nights, while we visited Hearst Castle (eerily reminiscent of Citizen Kane I might add) and wandered around a few of the local beaches; for the last leg of our trip, a friend of my sister's, John, decided to drive us up the coast along highway one, which turned out to be a spectacular ride with all the views and waterfalls and attempted campings considered; we made it to Santa Cruz and camped for a couple more days, enjoying the beaches and boardwalks of the decidedly tourist-filled town, before continuing our journey to San Francisco, where we are now.
As Jennifer predicted, we were very nearly unable to depart from her friend's company (and his incessant, horrid taste in music and propensity for speaking constantly about nothing?/everything?/anything!), for, as she so succinctly put it: "We could not get rid of [him] if we tried,"—which we did!—until we were safely outside our hostel in the city. Although it was a trying trip, we survived, perhaps a bit better for it.
As promised, here are some pictures of our trip (click for the full version)!
Not that I was ever interested in moving here, but, I certainly know that I will be comfortable not doing so after this trip; that is to say, California is still worth a cursory visit; or, if you have a bit more time, a summer at an aunt's house (free of charge, with a car, no dogs, and a queen sized waterbed) like my sister's friend, with whom we are currently staying, has been doing; I simply wish to point out that Los Angeles is not all its cracked up to be; with its hour-long car rides to end up four miles away at a skate shop that does not sell the right kind of skate boards; or, the not-entirely unfounded feeling that the company that owns your condo and the health inspector must be working in tandem to prevent your obvious infestation of German cockroaches from allowing you to break your year-long lease, forcing you to relocate, while still paying the insanely over-inflated rent (however, if you end up moving into the guest house of your uncle who makes loads of money from voice-over work, enough that he lives a few houses down from Paris Hilton and has a view of the city that would make a blind person weep, perhaps it is not all bad, after all).
Here is a quick re-hash of the past few days: read three of the five books I brought along, and purchased another in order to extend the fun; spent about twelve hours total on public transportation, which would not be so bad if it were not filled with needlessly ornery bus drivers and scuffles about which clamps need to go on a wheelchair, thus extending what would be a fifteen minute ride into an hour of bus-riding fun; stayed with a friend of mine (at the previously mentioned gorgeous hilltop home) and visited Venice Beach (though after dark, without all the supposed people-watching and shopping that would have been possible before dusk), LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art), and The Grove (the first outdoor mall in the world/country/state); spent a good deal of time—where else?—on the beach; and, finally, I have sufficiently submersed myself in the mindset of vacation-hood, so that I do not know what day or time it is a good chunk of my wakened being.
So, after visiting a few friends and temporarily parting ways with the other member of our voyage, we will soon be making our way back up the coast to stay with the aunt of the high school ex-boyfriend of my sister, who apparently Jenn has not seen in something akin to three voyages of our lonely planet around the sun (when the aunt-in-question made her prom dress, I hear). After that we will be road-tripping further up to Monterey and Santa Cruz, camping for a few days, and ending up in San Francisco to catch our flight (which leaves right after midnight one week from today) back home. Sounds lovely, does it not?
Next time I shall share some pictures, but for the moment my sister sent back the memory card we were using, so I have none to post: sad times.
Buh-bye!
One of the stewardesses suggested that I be on the advertisement for their particular airline due to the fact that I ate five of the English muffins with egg and sausage (sans sausage); a new record, I am told. This strikes me as rather funny, I mean, what is it about eating a good deal more than is probably healthy for my bowels that makes me uniquely qualified for their commercials? Additionally, what does eating five persons' shares of the complimentary "breakfast" have to do with selling the brand?
On our airline, you can gorge yourself silly, like you deserve to be able to do.
Cramming your orifices full of mediocre "food" is just one of the ways that our airline shows you how much we care (also, we have funny in-flight emergency instructions).
The pilot encourages you to eat the left-over food, in that he will not land the plane until all the pre-packaged sandwiches are eaten. Now.
Prevent terrorism, eat more.
My [older-younger] sister, her friend, and I, have now arrived at our bungalow, which will serve as our basis of operations for the first leg of our trip. Here in sunny Sunset Beach, we are just a stone's throw from the ocean, a surf board rental shop, and about three tattoo places, I know we will be in for a good few days of beaching, surfing, and tattooing (probably some other things too).
I brought a camera this time, so I shall do my best to pass along some photographs of our adventures in the land of golden tans and string bikinis. I know you all wait eagerly for their arrival, and I hope you enjoy living vicariously through me. I know I do!
A: A few nights ago I cried while watching an episode of Grey's Anatomy. It was the first time I have cried in nearly two years. I am not afraid to admit about when I do, but I hardly ever cry ever since I graduated high school. This is probably because I have no feelings.
2: I am always happy when I come home after a hard day's work and add my tips to my slowly growing wad of cash. Then I realize that all that cash will soon be going toward my freakishly expensive credit card bill, and I die a little inside.
3.141: Pumpkin and French Silk are the only pies I will consume, for they are the best and tastiest. No contest. If you disagree, I will make you die a little inside.
IV: I think that the first trilogy (though second universe-chronologically speaking) of the Star Wars universe were decent movies. However, George Lucas has now gone crazy with his vision, and it would have been better for everyone involved if he had just not made Episodes I to III. Except for Natalie Portman, she rules.
.....: If anyone else is as entertained by my choice of bullets for this inane post, then perhaps the world should re-think its breeding policies. If there are more than one of us out there... it does not bode well for the survival of the human race.
Sextuplets: Whoever decided to make the mathematical term for six of something to be prefixed by "sex" was really not considering a middle school geometry class in their calculations. Although I now can say "sextet" without giggling [much], I cannot count the times that our whole class would bring up six-sided shapes just to hear the teacher say its name, "sextagon"! ... Oh, wait, is it not "hexagon"? ... Crap, our teacher was a pervert!
Evensay: Erhapspay eatingay ourfay Arstay Unchescray orfay innderday isay otnay ethay ealthiesthay ayway ofay ivinglay. Iay ouldshay ethinkray ymay ethodsmay ofay ocerygray oppingshay.
9: Hast du meinen Affen geseign? Ich bein schlagsagen.
The Square Root Of One Hundred: Mathematics is truly my favorite subject in all of the world. It makes me a thousand times more sad when I cannot solve a simple equation (involving change for instance) versus when I cannot remember what my close friends' names are, for instance. Is that bad?
ll: I use any opportunity I have to make a wish. Whether it be touching the clock when the minutes equal the hour (though it only truly counts when it is on a twenty-four hour clock or in the double digits [for hours] on a regular one), blowing away an eyelash, seeing a shooting star, or saying "peanut butter" when you go over railroad tracks.
6+6: What do I wish for? If I told you it would not come true.
Lucky Number: Oh fine, I wish for a pony.
Today's Date: Nothing exciting happened today, but that is because yesterday was Friday the 13th. I told everyone to whom I delivered pizzas that I almost died about thirteen times going to their house, which was a lie. I did this about thirteen times before I realized it was not as funny as I had hoped. I then really did almost die thirteen times on a way to one guy's house, but I did not tell him, thinking he would not believe me because I had been telling everyone the same story. It did not occur to me that he did not know that.
One Five: If I were going to remake all the numbers, I know what the first one to go would be. The teens. Without rhyme or reason, they do not follow the same pattern as the ones before them, and the twenties and on after. Who wrote this language, and why were they so illogical?
Sweet: Some of you may complain that "the teens" is not one, specific number, as I alluded to immediately before exposing the proposed reconstruction of number-hood. All I have to say to you is this. Six, sixteen, twenty-six, thirty-six... etc. Even though it sounds horrible to us now, it could have easily been teen-six, or tensix, or something far less dumb and confusing then it is.
The Age I Got My Driver's License: I got in an accident while I was pulling away from the DMV after passing my test. Sorry about that Poppy!
Adulthood: I do not think a majority of people, when they hit a certain age, suddenly become competent enough to decide for themselves whether they should smoke, join the army, vote, or any number of things. That being said, I do not think many so-called "adults" really deserve these privileges either, so I guess it would not help if we delayed it.
Dix-Neuf: Despite the fact that it does not happen until the late "teens", the French actually put ten in front. I applaud their half-assed effort.
You Thought I May Not End: If someone can explain the reasoning behind each and every bullet point, and what it has to do with the content that follows, that person would be me... and then they would be too sexy for their shirt.
Apple: One a day will not keep the doctor away, no matter how hard you throw it. I have, however, found that other items may be useful in this venture. They are: garlic, holy water, silver bullets (these are no more effective than regular bullets, but I think you should silver-ize them anyway), and not having health insurance.
Bear: What kind is the best? If you answered 'black' then you are wrong. The correct answer is actually Smokey. He rocks your socks off, and remember, only you can refrain from idiocy and fire-starting activities, I get to keep doing it.
Creativity: One of the many things I do not lack. Another is modesty.
Death: I am determined to live forever or die in the attempt.
Egg: I like to put all of mine in one basket. I find splitting them up into multiple baskets diminishes the effectiveness of the individual basket and makes it feel bad. Some people might follow this same procedure and just use smaller eggs so that in the event of an accident, less is wasted, but I just remind them that an omelette cannot be made without breaking a few eggs, so why not just enjoy breakfast?
Fence: I have one around my heart, but it is made of candy. Poison candy.
Gikik: In high school, one of my identification cards randomly did not get printed correctly. Instead of my name, my student ID number, and a bar code, it had a white space with "Gikik" printed in the middle. Who or what "Gikik" is I may never know, but I am glad to have been a part of it.
Headlight: For some reason I can never remember to turn mine off, even though I have no need to turn them on in the first place because they are the daytime running kind. What does this mean, psychologically speaking?
Ism: I do not believe in isms, I just believe in me.
Jelly: I prefer it over jam any day. I could not actually tell you which one was which, but jam just reminds me of traffic, which I hate. Therefore, it loses.
Kaleidoscope: The color that I see and identify as "green" may very well be completely differently seen by you, to such a degree that your colors are not at all the same as mine. Perhaps everyone's favorite color (while varying by name) is actually the same color after all. So, next time someone asks you what your favorite color is, punch them in the nose and steal their wallet.
Lorax: If he were around today, do you think he would be happy? I think so. I think he would really like DQ Blizzards. I know I do.
Milk: Am I the only one who thinks that drinking the baby food for a completely different species is a little odd? Why the heck did this whole practice start, and why can I not stop eating ice cream? Delicious ice cream... mmm...
No: Negative. Absolutely Not! No Way! As If! Puh-lease! Whatever. Think Again. I Don't Think So! What? Maybe. Outlook Not So Good. Not Even If You Were The Last Man on Earth. [silence] Get a Life! Yeah Right. *sigh* Know.
Oversleeping: Monday night [Tuesday morning] I stayed up until 4:30 AM working on my homework so that I could be a good student and have it all done before class. I then proceeded to fall asleep and wake up at 11:15 AM (my class goes 7:30 AM to 10:20 AM) to the sound of my boss calling me and asking if I was planning on coming in to work (I was scheduled at eleven o'clock). Thursday morning was a similar scene, though my body woke me up at 8:30 AM instead of after class was over. Missing 1½ out of 3 classes so far is no good. Conclusion: Doing homework is bad for your health.
Pizza: For your information, tipping a delivery guy less than $3 is usually unacceptable. If you can afford to pay whatever the markup between store-bought, home-cooked, and pre-cooked, hand-delivered food is, then you can also spare the extra cash for the person bringing it to your door. Give a hoot, don't be cheap.
Quandary: Johnny has 12 crayons. He gives 4 crayons to Julie. He gives 3 crayons to Lindsey. He gives 5 markers to Robert. How many crayons does he have left? Bonus Point: Who does he like best? You might say it was Robert, but actually it is Stephanie. He gave her something else behind the seesaw.
Recess: It is most certainly the best subject in school, and now I hear that some schools are actually removing it from their schedule in order to promote safety and cut down on acting out. I tell you, who is more likely to be a problem child, the kid who hates school and is stuck there non-stop for eight hours at a time? or the kid who hates school but gets to be a pirate for a half-hour after lunch? Nine times out of ten I bet the pirate kid is crazy. Way to go school system for curbing his hallucinations and keeping me safe!
Shoe: The next time you are about to get angry or upset at someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way, after you are finished, you are a mile away and you have their shoes.
Tango: It may take two, but it should also be pointed out that three is too many. I cannot count the amount of times in my life that I have been part of a mixed-sex group of three friends who wound up in some sort of convoluted romantic triangle. If you find yourself in this situation, investigate two things: are you not getting whatever feelings you have towards one of the members reciprocated? and are the other two are hanging out without you? If they are, start finding some new friends, you just entered "Third Wheel Town".
Underwater: Adventures of any kind are very fun. If I ever get the chance, I plan on seeking lost civilizations, and I will start in the ocean. That way, if I end up not finding them, at least I could say that I was a mermaid once. I would be lying, obviously, but I would know a whole lot about the animals under there so maybe I could convince some people it was a true story.
Vandalism: Here is a day in the life of Wikipedia. "Dum-de-dum-dum... just going to work to be the awesomest website ever. La-de-da... helping people learn about stuff they did not even know they wanted to know about. Do-de-do... I am so great. Wait, oh my GOSH!!! Some random contributer is falsifying information on various articles! Please stop the madness! Those poor researchers will now think that agriculture started ten years ago instead of ten thousand! Is there anybody out there? I am dying... *cough cough* Please help me!" Stop the spread of misinformation; kill a Wiki-vandal today.
Weatherman: My superhero persona controls the weather. He wears a sky-blue spandex body suit (to represent the sky), grey shorts (clouds), a clear cape (wind), a yellow helmet (the sun), black boots (the earth), a rainbow belt (rainbows), and a badge on his chest that changes based on the current weather. Also, he carries a squirt gun to combat the Wicked Witch, Quick-Dry Cement Man, and thirst.
X: The most useless letter of the alphabet can easily be replaced by substituting e, k, and s for wherever it may be needed. Yeah, I know there are exceptions, but c'mon, why does xylophone not start with z? English is stupid, that is why.
Yarn: I think kitties have it all figured out. They can be content playing with whatever happens to be found on the floor. I think we should all live our lives in such a fashion: care-free and easily entertained. I am not advocating we all do our business in the sandbox though, that would just be unsanitary.
Zoo: Yup, still depressing.
note: the videos on the page have disappeared from the Internet; who would have thought we'd ever stop using MySpace?!
(This interview was administered on 25 June, 2007 [now-time])
Luke: Welcome back dear readers! We have a special treat for you today because it just so happens that we have delved into the deeply paradoxical, complicated land of time-travel! Well, not today exactly. More like about two months ago. One week after I returned from Costa Rica actually. I am here today (two months ago) talking to--well--myself.
Luke: How did you get in here? Who are you? Why are you talking to yourself?
Luke: Ooh, this is going to be difficult. Being that we both have the same name I am going to have to think of different ways to determine who is talking at what time. How about I be "Luke [present]", and you be "Luke [past]"?
Luke [past]: How about not you crazy person! I know I certainly would not let my beard grow to such tremendous proportions, especially when it looks so ugly. Besides, why do you get to be "Luke [present]" when, clearly, I am from the present and—supposedly—you are from the future. You should be "Luke [future]"!
Luke [future]: Well, obviously our interviewee does not really understand the complexities of time-travel; perhaps "Luke [dumb]" would be more appropriate...
Luke [dumb]: Why you son-of-a-
Luke [present]: Hey now! There are children that might be watching.
Luke [dumb]: Seriously! I am not going to tolerate this! Either I am "Luke [the-best-Luke-in-the-time-stream]" or I will not participate in this interview.
Luke [the-real-one]: Sure. Fine then. We should get this started because we have already wasted enough time.
Luke [the-blurst-Luke-in-the-time-stream]: Whatever. Ask me some--hey! "Blurst"?
Luke [the-real-one]: Oops! Sorry, honest mistake.
Luke [the-best-Luke-in-the-time-stream]*: Suuure. I hate you.
Luke [the-real-one]: On with the questions! So, how does it feel to be back in the United States?
Luke [the-best-luke-in-the-time-stream]: Well, I am unemployed, cold, and I have no money. So... kind of sad.
Luke [the-real-one]: I see. Well, at the risk of destroying the universe, I will go ahead and tell you that you will get a job at Galactic Pizza and everything will be super soon enough. Oh, and have fun in Texas too!
Luke [the-best-Luke-in-the-time-streem]: Oh? Sweet! So I actually go to Texas? How is-I mean...uhh... was it?
Luke [the-real-one]: Who is doing the interview here? Me. Maybe I will let you in on what happens later, but for now, my next question: now that you are back, what are you plans?
Luke [the-best-Luke-in-thee-time-stream]: Well... I am going to sit around and do nothing. Apparently I get I a job and I do not have to worry about anything, right? Why would I apply anywhere but Galactic Pizza?
Luke [the-real?-one]: Hrm... that is not good. Perhaps I should not have told you about your future. If you change what I did, then maybe it will not happen the same way... which would be bad.
Derek [the-best-Derek-in-the-time-stream]: ...or will it? or would it have been? Wow, time-travel is confusing.
Luke [th3-r3al???-on3]: Uh oh, it is also dangerous! I can already see the universe collapsing around us because you changed—will change—history!
Frtrl {yjr+nrdy+Frtrl+om+yjr+yozr+dytrsz}; Frst Hpf? Ejsy od hpomh pm!
Luke ??? [+43=r3al???=0\/\3]: Well, that is it for today folks! I hope you still exist and I can get this all sorted out before lunch. I am hungry!
??? [???]: ???
Luke: Bye!
*Not really
Less than a week remains of my wonderfully informative voyage here in almost-South America. Since Saturday I have been free to do as I wish, as I finished my classes the day before, and I have been doing so extravagantly and excessively. I bring good tidings on the grade front as well: I got that paper done (and you thought I would never do it!), and I also got a 97% in my Spanish class, which is probably totally like the third highest grade ever (which was only brought down because I called the teacher a nasty name on accident, every day, and then in another freak accident, I hit her that time, with a sledgehammer).
But that is just water under the bridge, eh? Now I am on to bigger and better things, like watching movies in Spanish with nary an English subtitle to be seen. I swear, I understand at least three sentences, sometimes nearing about six; though one time it was eight (though, technically, four of them were the same, because they repeated the same thing over and over again… but I would say that counts… yes?)!
In addition, I have taken up residence with a Tico family (a new, different one), who I may have mentioned before. Chris, Angie, Harry, and Nesskens all love having me with them very much. So much that they rarely ever invite me to their house and then turn on the television, leaving me to my own devices for two hours for no apparent reason, followed by an awkward conversation about what “we” should do next time. Now they do not need to invite me, because I am already here. They can just do all those things with one less step, what luck! Seriously though, I think at least Angie enjoys my company because I actually wash my own dishes (and hers, and everyone else’s) as opposed to throwing them in the sink while she is washing other ones.
For the past three days I have visited a local high school and given a speech about myself for their English class (so, yes, it was in English). The teacher there is named Hilda Paniaqua (her last name means “bread and water”, which I find funny), and she told me I could come back anytime and help her out with pronunciation and what-have-you. Perhaps I shall. Lord knows that if the girls in my high school liked to tell me I am handsome and ask me out as much as these girls have been doing, I would have had a much more active love life. Alas, sadly most of them scarcely are even have 66% of my years behind their innocent brac—I mean faces, so it just is not meant to be. I shall just have to keep to myself following all those “No Sex Tourism” signs they have at the airport, because they are so darn convincing!
Unhappily I prepare to give Costa Rica my salutations and board the plane to Texas, crying the whole way. By the time I reach Minnesota, my face and airplane pillow should be dry, so I look forward to meeting whomever shows up with a cheery disposition and presents galore*. Of course, I do not expect anyone other than my mom (my other mom, not either one from here) to show up, because I think I left my car at her house, and I am going to need that back.
Next time you hear from me, I will sum up life in Costa Rica in one beautiful and heart-wrenching post, which will probably make you cry more than that one time Derek Shouster called you a “big fat dummy-face” and then stole your chocolate cupcake in third grade.
Well, maybe not. You did cry a lot back then, and it will probably be a tough contest. Gosh, what a baby you were!
I love you, almost as much as I love delicious, melty ice cream (which is a lot), and I will see you soon!
P.S. Actually, I am pretty sure that I love delicious, melty ice cream a whole lot more than I love you, because I am not consuming your inexpensive (only $1!) and caramely (oh goodness the caramely goodness!) body at the moment, which means you have a long way to go; maybe next time.
*One of these two things may be in short supply, though that is a surprise for another day
It is my pleasure to inform you that your hopes for my well-being here, in Costa Rica, are still fulfilled at the utmost, though I cannot pinpoint or foresee a time when this would not be the case, because, as you know, eternal optimism makes for an arduous time of anything obstinate to tranquility and contentment.
My studies here are varied and interesting, and perhaps now is the time wherein elaboration on their merits is idyllic. Although I learn more in the hours I spend outside of the institute where the classes proper are held, they still make for an entertaining pastime.
Four hours a day, five days a week, I have Spanish class. This consists of myself and up to three other students discussing the previous day in ‘preterito perfecto’ and then playing flash card games or watching movies from Spanish-speaking countries, though, sadly, with English subtitles. Despite the slow-moving and repetitive methods our teachers use, I still manage to learn a few new words each day, even considering all their efforts to the contrary. Coincidentally, it seems that whenever I discover a new word in my studies it shows up at least four and a half times later that day, which I think is rather convenient and encouraging.
One day a week, on Tuesdays, for four hours, I have Biology. Fifty percent of our class days have consisted of field trips to various locations around the country, usually concerning science only laterally, if at all. I still have yet to turn in a paper that was due before we left the United States, but given my suave and charismatic ways, I have extended the deadline accordingly. Of course, I will do it eventually, I need just a smidgen of time to collect my thoughts without so many dazzling activities to choose from.
One day a week, on Wednesdays, for three hours, I have Intercultural Communication. This is yet another class, in which morsels of information manage to be discovered, regardless of the teacher’s labors conversely. Our class discussions on the poorly written textbook exclusively exist for the teacher to expound on long-winded tangents and then insist he will sit on his hands (somehow this is supposed to prevent his interjections) for the remainder of the dialogue.
The real class, on the other hand, is life. Every day that I squander with my Tico friends or family leads me closer to my objective of not-looking-like-a-complete-tourist-when-I-go-outside-my-safe-zone. Perhaps the stress of these situations is the grounds for my malfunction, but I find that in the external world my speech skills devolve to that of a three year old (or myself, when I first arrived). The ten days I have after I finish classes are imminently approaching, and will surely test my limits, because most, if not all, of my English-speaking friends will have returned to the United States, thus leaving me with the only alternative of *gasp* speaking exclusively in Spanish!
Given that there are no comments from my many fans, I can only assume that I have been working diligently and adequately for your tastes, and that my saga is as engaging as it is verbose. However, if this were not the case, surely someone out there would inform me?
I thought so as well.
Have yourself a good week or two, and I shall be back whenever it is convenient for me, perchance with more news.
P.S. I was not actually mugged, as I reported earlier, which should be a given when evaluating most of my outlandish claims; however, in the past week three of my friends were robbed, something I find rather remarkable, as well as vaguely foreboding. Wish me luck in my final morsel of time here, so that I may not fall victim to armed robbers or assailants, and that I may return safely to my beloved home and “real” life (whatever that may entail).
‘Family’ is a significant concept; so significant it that took me about twenty years, more or less, to realize its importance. To accept and love one’s family is a great step on the route to adulthood, and a stride that some would argue is essential in this end. It is with these thoughts in mind that I will now depict those who—perhaps crazy for allowing me to live here in the first place—are nonetheless agreeable and entertaining Ticos that I call ‘my family’.
Xinia (mom): The head of the household without question and my favorite mother ever. In addition, she is also the woman who graces me with her presence at all of my meals (in addition to cooking them) as well as being a substantial catalyst for my apprenticeship to the magnificent Latin language I now consider myself at the ‘Intermediate-Medium’ level of proficiency. I have scolded her constantly for not siring a daughter that I could have married, so that I should have lived in Central America and stay in her house for all time. She is one-and-forty years of age, got married when she was seventeen and seems to enjoy my sense of humor as much as anyone would require, sometimes more. Last night I may have irrevocably insulted her and her religious beliefs by attempting to explain (in jest, obviously) the concept of ‘autotheism’ and how it consists of me worshiping myself... (if I had a nickel for every time I affronted someone unintentionally I would never have to work again, and I could probably pay for some sort of classes about not-being-a-complete-idiot-and-toning-it-down-once-in-a-while, eh?)
Boliviar (dad): My father is relaxed and unobtrusive for the most part, even if he is constantly making light of somber subjects and being scolded by my mother. According to the information sheet I received when I first arrived here, he works as an ‘administrator’. This may be true, but I have never seen him out of the house for more than a few hours at a time, and he usually is home before I am (at around 1:00 PM most days) sleeping or watching television throughout the afternoon. What a neat job! He spiked his hair up into a mini-hawk recently, punches me incessantly, and furthermore attempted to scare a friend and me by wearing a Halloween mask and walking as though he had just ridden a horse for about a thousand miles. Do not be fooled! as this is all to be understood as a cover for his lightning fast kicking speed, with which he almost killed the same friend referenced before. He is four-and-fifty years of age, so if you do the math, you might find, that in Costa Rica that sort of thing apparently is ‘a-okay!’
Alejandro (youngest brother): Little Ale loves Yu-Gi-Oh! cards and being an eight-year old kid in general. In fact, in two days he will no longer have this luxury, for his years will have caught up with him and he shall turn a whopping nine years of age. He loves to play any game I can show him, though sadly I have only the few that are on my iPod and the default Windows Vista FreeCell, Solitaire, and the like. I could almost count on my hands and toes how many words he has actually said directly to me, even given his preference for sitting in my company watching me type or sort my music. I cannot wait to have kids so I can throw them about in a similar manner that I have grown accustomed to do with him.
Leonardo (middle brother): Leo is sixteen and home slightly more than I was at that age, which is not saying much. He supposedly knows how to speak English pretty well, but I have only heard him say “Hi!” and my name... and I am not sure my name counts entirely. Regardless, he is nice when he is around.
Estaban (oldest brother): ‘The Big E’ goes to school for computers, and works when he is not at school. Therefore, he is gone when I wake up in the morning, and does not come home until a few hours after I go to sleep. Of course, I habitually crash at around 8 or 9 o’clock at night, so his feat is not that astounding.
Chispa (family pet): The most schizophrenic little thing I have ever seen, the family dog loves to beg for food at the table. If you feed her, she will love you for at most, five seconds, before relapsing into a ferocious, bloodthirsty, wuss. Being that Chihuahuas are known for this type of behavior, I suppose I cannot blame her... but... c’mon! Really? Also, she is the only dog that I will ever condone dressing up in people clothes, because it is so darn cute and somehow it is okay... but only this one. No more.
Grandma, Luis, and the others: When I first arrived here there was a nice old lady that slept in the computer room and only once said something to me (while I was stretching, she made a motion as if to copy me and then laughed, mumbling Spanish the whole time... obviously I had no idea what she truly said, but I suppose it was a joke or something). She is no longer here, and if the family ever explained her relation it was lost on my complete lack of Spanish-speaking I have since rectified. It is for this reason that I just call her ‘Grandma’. Luis is a cousin of someone (I think) and works at Office Max six days a week, sixteen hours a day. He only comes by for dinner or breakfast—which my mother graciously provides—and then leaves without me ever seeing him go. I have met other family members like aunts and uncles, but they were but droplets in an ocean of stimuli that have since been lost in the expanses of my atrocious memory.
So there they are! Only a few weeks before I come home... but surely the knowledge will be put to good use. Tune in next time when I run out of money and only eat scraps from the table, like Chispa!
Toodles!
So, I have been informed that my duties have been neglected, and as a result, I am out of the will. In an effort to re-institute my position as the sole heir of what I am sure is to be countless masses of wonderful riches, I shall return to my informative capacity as a Costa Rican informant to the ignorant masses stuck back at home in the snow.
Firstly, this week is Semana Santa, where the whole country takes work off and flocks to the delectable tropical beaches and drinks themselves stupid. I, hoping to gain a bit of culture and learn about the natives here, have followed in this pilgrimage of sun, the ocean, and underage drinking. There are between seven and eleven of us staying in our bungalow during any given night, but I am not entirely sure it counts as "night" when people come home after the sunrise the following day. Our hotel feeds us a wonderful breakfast each morning, and I have recently consumed a plate and a half of pancakes and French Toast, which was so wonderful that I think I may never eat again so as to keep the savory flavor of the sugary goodness inside my memory banks for eternity.
Accordingly, my lack of posting has been a result of a few factors: it costs two dollars an hour to use the internet, and that is money I could be spending on food or surf boards or drugs; also, it is a vacation week and why do I want to spend precious time when I have no responsibilities surfing the Internet, when I could easily do that when I return to my home city and get homework again; and, lastly, I just do not know what to say.
Obviously.
I went snorkeling yesterday, saw tropical fish and a turtle, lost a lens to my glasses so now I am blind as well as burned, met a troupe of fourteen-year olds who led sing-alongs of epic proportions (who I later heard were among the party-goers drinking themselves stupid and hooking up with men far beyond their age... what is wrong with the youth of today I ask you?!), swam to a far away island and almost drowned, bought groceries for the next three days because all the stores will be closed for the Holidays, witnessed a good amount of relationship drama I hope I never have to live through again, learned about the Hurricane and its effects on rich people in Florida, and did a little jig.
Previously, I have just been enjoying myself immensely, though, sadly, I have not practiced as much Spanish during this week as would be required for me to be awesome and studious, so methinks I shall do some chatting today, assuming I do not find something less responsible to take up my time.
If you are coming to visit me in Costa Rica, I recommend you do it now, and forever, for I truly love this place and hope, somehow, I can live here someday, perhaps starting today. Hopefully this is enough for those of you who are worried about my mugged-ness, and my health, however, I assure you, I was only mugged those two times, and they happened pretty much in the same day, so I count them as only once; in addition, the only thing they stole was my dignity.
And $200... but hey! all is well that ends well, eh? I got them back by infecting them with herpes. Go STDs!
Love you all, and even though I miss you, I do not want to come home, so you should come here instead.
¡Hasta luego!
Yet another useless post!
Check this out if you are into that sort of thing.
Duty calls!
The next one will be so filled to the brim with content, you will not even know what to think!
Vamos a la playa! A mi me gusta bailar!
Que bate que bate el chocolate!
Later!
I am alive!
The game last night went splendidly and my friends and I did not fall prey to the droves of football crazies that paraded through the streets with, what some might call a "$h1+l0ad!", of cops. Saprisa, my and my mother's favored team won with a score of three-nil against La Liga, the team that calls Alajuela--my hometown--home. On another, somewhat related note, somehow the president of La Liga, who also happens to own most of the rest of Alajuela, has invited whomever wishes to from our group to come and watch a practice sometime next week. Even though they are not really my team, I feel I owe it to my adoring fans to go and report back on how a professional football team in Costa Rica practices. I also hope to wear my Saprisa jersey there and give em some guff for losing so bad in el Clasico... which my father says is a bad idea. What do you think?
Next weekend is the class trip to Limon and somewhere else involving a archaeological site or somesuch nonsense. Long live free, pre-planned vacations though!
Once I get the means, I will post some real pictures up here, but for now enjoy the wonderful wanderings and photography of Joseph, a fellow Tico-in-training.
Until next time-—live life free!
I hope you are enjoying life and all that jazz; I am cruising along nicely here. The group of students from Washington is going home tomorrow so I have been busy hanging out with the select few students of that heritage that deserve my attention. A few of my friends played at the Lion's club last night, so I went out with them and danced the night away. Of course, I was completely shunned by all whom I asked to dance with me, even the table of Costa Rican women who constantly stared at me for the rest of the night... but I survive yet.
Spanish classes are going wonderfully, and after only three weeks I already feel relatively proficient in my understanding of speech and writings. I listened to my mom and my friend Jazmyne talk for a good amount of time the other day and hardly lost track of what was going on. That is, until my brother brought out his collection of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards and we began to become immersed in a life that I recall from my days at Shinders.
This weekend is el Clasico, which is the football (soccer) game between San Jose and Alajuela. Apparently it is very dangerous for people to be wearing either jersey after the game because droves of bloodthirsty fans of the opposing team will beat them until they feel the victim has learned a lesson. Despite these cautions, I look forward to the event immensely.
I can hardly believe it has already been a month. Semana Santa (Holy Week) is coming up in the first week of April, and though my plans to go to Cuba have fallen through, I still plan on spending a week on a beach somewhere enjoying the tropical climate. At some point I will find out if my traveling companions will allow me the use of their camera in order to illustrate a bit more about my trip so far, but at the moment just satisfy yourself knowing that I will attempt to collect all the photos of every person for your personal viewing pleasure at a later date.
Assuming, of course, that I actually come back. It is nice to hear from those of you who have said something, and it is also nice to hear that those of you who have not are not really my friends.
:P
¡Pura Vida!
I hope you all enjoyed my poem last week. It was painstaking and a difficult labor to perform, but I feel the results were worth it. You people keep clamoring for pictures, so here you go:
Well, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. So I close out my longest entry ever with...
What?! You didn't say pictures of my trip! Be more specific next time!
Roses are red,
violets are blue,
Costa Rica is sweet,
and I bet you wish you were here too!
Each morning at dawn
I snooze while the sun doth rise;
no matter how "late" I sleep
by six in the morn I open my eyes!
After a quick shower and breakfast with my mom,
it is off to school I go,
where my brain is filled with words
that make my head go to and fro!
Some days I have other classes
taking place in the afternoon,
but so far they are much more simple
and I do not feel like quite so much of a buffoon!
I look forward to the weekend;
this one past was mucho fun:
we went to the beach
and I was sad when it was done!
I played Backgammon with some rastafarians
and fell into the ocean;
I got second degree burns on my shoulders
(on which my mom put some lotion)!
I think these verses are neato
and I sure hope you do as well,
but at the moment I must go meet a Tico,
for he somehow thinks me swell!
It has already been three weeks
and I know not where the time goes;
here is hoping I have more adventures,
where time goes not fast, but rather slows!
Keep it real,
keep it fresh,
I shall see you in a jiffy,
perhaps with some tanned flesh...?
:)
¡Hola mi amigos!
I hope this entry finds you well. My stay here in Costa Rica so far has exceeded even my loftiest of expectations. My host family, Xenia, Boliviar, Alejandro, Leo, Cheespa, grandma, and [the other one whose name I cannot remember] are wonderful Ticos to be paired with. I have yet to begin any actual schooling, as this past week consisted of a few tours of the area as well as a trip to the Ecolodge San Luis & Research Station near Monte Verde.
It has been a busy week for me, where: I woke up at 5:30 in the morning to go bird watching (for the first time), milked a cow (for the first time), hiked every day for at least 10 miles a day, played football with my host-brother and his friends, visited the national museum in San Jose, jumped from a ledge into the pool at the bottom of the most beautiful waterfall I have ever had the privilege of viewing, ate the greatest food from the greatest kitchen known to man, played volleyball, learned about plants and their families at the Plant-o-rama, got sick of being stared at by the natives and dyed my hair black so as to fit in a bit more, spoke with naturalists from all over the world and made a fool of myself for not remembering that the Netherlands and Holland are the same place (and that I have been to them), lost my pencil at least six times (but luckily I have found it every time so far), helped a nice Ecologist trap, examine, and release birds living on the coffee plantations, went to a sustainable, shade-grown coffee plantation and got a tour from a native Costa Rican, improved my hackey sack skills, saw the biggest and awesomest rainbow I have ever heard of (!), had deep, thought-provoking conversations while staring at the night sky, wished on a few shooting stars, and probably I whole bunch of stuff I have forgotten already.
My trip to the lodge allowed me to see countless exotic (and not so exotic) wildlife, including but not limited to: bats, a praying mantis, a Clay-colored Robin (Costa Rica´s national bird), some cows, some sort of parrots, many chachalatkas (a turkey-looking bird), the biggest beetle I have ever seen, a few horses, a plethora of Hummingbirds, a Coral Snake (ooh! Poisonous!), plus many more. Unfortunately there was not a monkey in sight wherever I would go, even though some of my cohorts were privy to the shy devils nearly every day.
I start Spanish classes Monday morning, where I will ideally progress with such speed that both my teachers and host family praise me as the genius I am. Tomorrow is a day for a game of football against the Ticos, though I do not expect to put up much of a fight considering the ten year-olds can run circles around even the best players in my group. I hope you are enjoying whatever activities you choose to pursue, and drop me a line if you would like some sort of specific gift from Central America. I would not know where to start otherwise, you see.
I shall see you later, so do not die beforehand!
I touched down at 9:49 PM (Central/Standard Time), a return to the earth that signaled a 12-hour journey had come to a close. Though the trip was—for the most part—unremarkable, I finally felt free of the anxiousness and apprehension that had built up over the past few weeks. My new friend Yvan (ee-vahn) and I made our way to customs to enter what so far, is the awesomest country I have ever been in (NOTE: May be slight exaggeration in response to the drastic change from inclement to tropical weather). Unfortunately, his luggage was left behind in Houston, which meant that two non-native English speakers, he and the claims counter attendant, were forced to attempt to communicate in its halting and awkward prose.
Flash forward to outside the airport, where the tour guide-type person that Yvan had procured to take him to his hostel was nowhere to be found. Being that I had no reservations or any idea where I was supposed to stay once I arrived in San Jose, this boded unfavorably for our chances at having a clue what to do next. Thankfully, a nice non-English speaking "taxi" driver hassled us enough to convince us our rapidly dwindling options were, in fact, singular in nature. We accepted his offer, and he proceeded to lead my new friend and me to—rather than one of the nice, official-looking orange taxis in front of the entrance—a back-alley-ish parking structure which contained his decrepit blue van.
A frightening, harrowing drive and subsequent escape later, the beacon of hope and wonder that was Case Yoses stood before us! They were gracious enough to grant me accommodation even though I had not contacted them in advance, and now I find myself at a slow-ish, Spanishly-keyboarded computer reminiscing about the days' activities. No clue what is happening tomorrow, but Yvan wants to get his bags and depart for the coast where he plans on surfing an abandoned stretch of pristine beach front property for six weeks. Sounds delectable, I know—but alas!—I must find other means of entertainment for three days until I meet my, hopefully, amicable and gracious family, where I shall be staying for the next two months.
Wish me luck! and until we meet again!
In order to better serve my adoring fans I have decided to relocate my updating mechanism to this particular website. In less than two weeks my journey into Central America begins, and I have come to the conclusion that despite previous assertions to the contrary, I will most likely not be returning to Minnesota.
Instead, I will take a Tico woman as my wife, obviously making sure her family is of wealthy stature, so that I may spend the rest of my days sipping drinks out of coconut shells on the beach of my illustrious estate. I will also have a cocoa farm, from which I will derive a substance most beneficial and fitting of my newfound position in life. Cocai-... "Chocolate" rather. I meant Chocolate.
If you wish to join me on my excursion, please do so. I will need all the able-bodied help I can get if I am to live in the luxury that I feel I deserve. Thank you for your time, and I wish you good day.
Update: I have relocated all of my entries to this site as of 02 July, 2007, so be happy or something.
