Wednesday, September 21, 2005
I've been having a lot of strange dreams lately. Mostly about tv shows. Maybe I am going through withdrawal since I haven't watched TV, save once, the entire time I've been here. So anyway, that check I have been waiting for they sent to me HERE to endorse, now they are sending it back to ST LOUIS FUCKING MISSOURI, THEN to my mom. fuck these people, for real. My spanish is getting a little better I think. Some girl from Galicia tried to get all up on this for two days straight. It was very odd. no means no spaniards, no means no. But seriously , how many different ways can I explain to her that I don't like the puntang? Poor girl, I think she has issues. Well I KNOW she has issues, because she is married, and chasing gay dick. Aside form that, everything is going well. The Bueno children are dilligently translating stories about Hatian zombies being sold into slavery (Thanks Weekly world News!), I'm eating well and sleeping even better. I was getting sick a couple of days ago, but I think its over and done with. This is a crappy entry, but really my heart is not in it. My heart is in Birmingham. With a new haircut, that he hates. I think it's handsome, but my opinion doesn't count for anything. In the last 45 minutes instead of writing 200 words , in spanish mind you, about problems in the world, I have been placing random comments on myspace, go looksee if you got one.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
I have no idea if this is even real, but if it is, why does nobody realize Pat Roberts has gone insane? First telling us to kill the Venezuelan president, and now this. Somebody please stop this man from appearing in public.
ROBERTSON BLAMES HURRICANE ON CHOICE OF ELLEN DEGENERES TO HOST EMMYS
Lesbian is New Orleans native
Hollywood – Pat Robertson on Sunday said that Hurricane Katrina was God’s way of expressing its anger at the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences for its selection of Ellen Degeneres to host this year’s Emmy Awards. “By choosing an avowed lesbian for this national event, these Hollywood elites have clearly invited God’s wrath,” Robertson said on “The 700 Club” on Sunday. “Is it any surprise that the Almighty chose to strike at Miss Degeneres’ hometown?”
Robertson also noted that the last time Degeneres hosted the Emmys, in 2001, the September 11 terrorism attacks took place shortly before the ceremony.
“This is the second time in a row that God has invoked a disaster shortly before lesbian Ellen Degeneres hosted the Emmy Awards,” Robertson explained to his approximately one million viewers. “America is waiting for her to apologize for the death and destruction that her sexual deviance has brought onto this great nation.”
Robertson added that other tragedies of the past several years can be linked to Degeneres’ growing national prominence. September, 2003, for example, is both the month that her talk show debuted and when insurgents first gained a foothold in Iraq following the successful March invasion. “Now we know why things took a turn for the worse,” he explained.
In order to avoid further tragedy, Robertson called not only for the Television Academy to find a new heterosexual host, but to bar all homosexuals and bisexuals from taking part in the ceremony.
He said employees at the Christian Broadcasting Network had put together a list of 283 nominees, presenters, and invited guests at the Emmys known to be of sexually deviant persuasions.
“God already allows one awards show to promote the homosexual agenda,” Robertson declared. “But clearly He will not tolerate such sinful behavior to spread beyond the Tonys.”
2:33 AM |
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Time zones suck. Currency exchanges suck. The fact that Saint Louis University is basically INCAPABLE of sending me my overage check DEFINATELY sucks. Randy does not suck. The random people coming out of the woodwork who think I still live in New Orleans don't suck. (FYI yall, I live in Spain.) My classes are ok, but HARD. I met with Dr. Bueno and family last night. We discussed the possibilty of my teaching his children English. I think it went pretty well. I have my first lesson tomorrow. What the hell am I going to do with these kids is what I really want to know. I have some idea, but I don't know if it will actually help anybody understand english. My school constantly smells like Fruity Pebbles, unfortunately they do not sell Fruity Pebbles anywhere, as far as I know, on this continent. Ham sandwiches they got though. Oh Lawdy the ham sandwiches they got.
5:24 PM |
Friday, September 02, 2005
It is so strange to be so far away from everything you ever knew. Especially one one HUGE part of everything you ever knew is under military control and burning. What the hell people, help New Orleans out. Government is so dumb, get the red cross in there, some skilled volunteers, not the military. God Keep all those people until this crazy mess is figured out.
I got my bag stolen. How it happened was, I had met this kid form Massachusetts named Storm. He plays guitar in the Sol Metro stop for change. Apparently he goes around the world doing this. I'm totally jealous. He does it the way I want to do it but am way too afraid. I had to do everything the safe way, with schools and money. He sleeps on the street. It's awesome but also considering how much I am freaking out anyway the safe way, its probably better I don't live like him. Anyway I'm talking to storm , who is really pretty talented (the reason I decided to talk to him and not scowl "get a job hippy" and move on with my life), and in my quest to get over my jet lag I decide to hang out with him and his girlfriend, Helena. We go over to El Parque Bien Retiro or whatever it is, and drink wine and have beers while Storm plays guitar. We sat with the people Helena just bought some hash from and they rolled some joints. More people come over and there is singing and smoking and much rejoicing. THEN some kind of shady people come over, and really its too much and storm says "lets go over and find where that drumming is from" so we walk around the huge lake with people rowing boats in it and such and towards the sound of the djembes. There were 5 guys drumming out. Storm says they have a HUGE drum circle every sunday in this park with like 70 people. I'll probably go. Helena gets a call form her friend Ram and we decide to meet of with them. Ram looks like a mexican version of my cousin Gregory. His "not girfriend", whose name escapes, me and he were sitting by Gran Villa waiting, and we decide to go to Corte Ingles and buy some more wine. Wine is like not even 2 euros a bottle. We are laughing and joking, and then I realize Ram´s not girl (RNG) friend does not speak english, all the laughing and joking we had been doing was in Spanish! YAY! Language skills! Storm meets some street performers and they say come hang out in this plaza with us. the plaza is in the Chueca, the gay part, but there is a large mix of people sitting in it. Young, old, rich, poor, gay, straight every damn body, but the plaza is pretty big and the benches are spaced out so we pretty much keep to ourselves. Random people come up and ask for rolling papers, ALOT. Storm continually bums cigarettes of the crowd and squirrels them away in the pack Ram bought. Every so oftem Storm manages to get people to share some hash, and he licks one of the stored cigarettes and peels the wet where his tongue had just been. He scrapes the insides out on top of the rolling paper Ram had. He breaks up the ... "pollon" is the word I think they keep saying, the little nugget of hash, over the tobacco, and rolls it up. I´ve watched them do this a few times now. Ram sings Spanish songs that apparently a lot of people know, while playing Storm's guitar. Me and RNG go the chino store, but they won´t sell wine after 10. Luckily what they WILL do is send girls out into the plaza with backpacks full of beer. They wanted one euro a beer, which is rediculous. We talk them into 7 for 5 which is kind of better. I forgot to mention that Helena went home before we ever made it to chueca, she has strict parents. DNG and Storm work the crowd for more cigarettes and see if they can bribe the people at the chino store for wine. Storm doesnt like beer that much. While they do that I have to pee, so I go into the bar across the street. Ram tells me not to leave him alone, but I have to pee so bad I can't wait. I come back and DNG and Storm are back. Now is the time I notice my bag is missing. We look all around. This sucks. With the exchange rate I dont have as much money as I would like, and now I have no bookbag, no spainish dictionary, and my freaking alarm clock I had just bought for 15 euros was in that bag. My digital camera, AND the shitty disposable camer I was using to capture some great photos of my first fun night in Madrid. All gone. The photobooth pictures of me and randy. My little statuette of the virgin Mary. More and more stuff keeps popping up. To top things off, all the time we spent retracing out steps, looking to see if somebody dumped the bag, (the digital camera was the only thing worth stealing in it, so why would they cart it around?)the metro had stopped. It stops at 1:30 and doesnt start again until 6. FUCKERS! Ram thinks it was the Chilean guys we didn't share our wine with, Storm thinks it was the chinese beer girls. I don't care who it is, I just want to go home. We sit around these other people who have a guitar. Apparantly Ram and this guy know all the same songs. Storm talks to this Spanish girl who has a weird british accent who is friends with all the tranny hookers on the other bench. These two dogs run around the plaza, one trying to hump the other, forever. They don't stop. I fall asleep on Storms bag, and DNG wakes me up at 5:20. We duck into some bar and use the bathroom and nod off on the table. In Spanish bars for some reason, the bathrooms are always downstairs, away from everything. So even though the bar was packed, nobody really bothered us on those tables. Storm waited outside, and by the time we came back upstairs he was gone. We went to the metro, and DNG kissed me good bye the eurpeon way. *muah* *muah* Actually she and Helena both kissed me hello that way too, even though we'd only just met. They are taking one line and I'm taking the other. Ram gives me his number, because he wants to move out of his parents place, and says we should all live together. I think that sounds great, and on the train ride home I realize I've only been here for 4 days. Europe is pretty cool.
On a side note, I was still buzzed from the wine and pissed about the bag and wanted to say good night to Randy. When I started rattling off the things missing from the bag I started crying at the mention of our photobooth photo. It is one of the only tangible photos of Randy I have, and it sucks that its gone forever. Randy is consoling me and I'm confessing how much I miss him. And how this day was the only day I had really enjoyed myself since I got to Madrid and then my fucking bag was stolen. I told him I want to go home. How I miss him. He starts crying too because he is upset he is so far away form me when I´m upset. the phonecard died suddenly and we didn't get to say goodbye. If it had lasted anylonger I would havve reassured him I was ok, and said I loved him and goodnight. Instead I had to try to sleep with the knowledge that he was thousands of miles away thinking I was having the worst time of my life and sobbing in a foreign street at 6:30 in the morning. I don't know yet how long I am going to stay. If you ask me to choose right now, I would want to go home to Randy. But I know this city has a lot to teach me, and I haven't even been here a week, so I think I am going to try and force myself to stay a year. Who knows.
7:39 AM |
