Yesterday this guy sat down on a bench next to me and (I think) tried to hit on me, so I pretended not to understand English. I guess the guy was pretty desperate, because he began pantomiming to me. I responded in very broken English, which seemed to encourage him. He tried harder, waving his hands about with vigor. I was nearly exploding with laughter, and my sides ached from trying to hold it in. Finally I rose to leave, waved goodbye, and scurried out of earshot where I laughed so hard I snorted like a wild javelina.
The best gum in the world is lemonade gum by Orbitz. (Aside to Emily: I know we've frequently had the aching jaw syndrome from chewing too much gum, but this doesn't even touch my current state of agony. I may have to forgo eating for the rest of my life.)
I have officially worn out my first shirt, which is a shame because it is my favorite shirt. It has little fuzzies all over it, but this isn't the real cause of concern. The area under the armpit of my shirt is so saturated with deodorant, it no longer become wet; therefore, it can no longer be "washed" properly. I cannot believe I am just posting this very bizarre/gross fact for all to read. Perhaps I am losing the ability to be properly ashamed of myself.
War of the Worlds really irked me. I didn't find it very realistic and I'll tell you why: there is one scene where a mechanic miraculously removes an alternator in three minutes, which is clearly not possible; however, the ridiculous flaw was that the all the cars in the city "died" because of a problem with starter. (And no, it doesn't make any sense at all.) My feelings about the rest of the movie can be summed up by saying, 'Mr. Spielberg, I'm disappointed in you.'
Around here (meaning many parts of Europe) you will run into cashiers from time to time that become incensed when you do not have correct change. When I have to break a bill that is greater 40 USD, I cower.
I've discovered I have a tendency to be socially inhibited, introverted, or in laymens' terms...shy. Never knew this about myself because I have a tendency to be ridicuously loud and spout off whatever bizzare nonsense comes into my head, but only when I am around my friends.
Most travelers tend to make "disposible" sorts of friends. I've never been able to do that very well. I invest in people slowly and cautiously, and when I decide I like somebody enough to label them a friend, they are stuck with me.
People have emailed me to ask about the scandal. Let me give you this by way of explanation: Monique has been very sober this trip--->Monique has been very well behaved--->Monique has experienced no scandal. (Okay, so maybe the teensiest bit of scandal, but since I found it to be somewhat dull I don't know if it would even count as scandal... OH AND MOM you better not be reading this!!!! j/k)
Parents should not let their children urinate in the public park, and they most assuredly should not let them commit fecal there. (Definitely lost some of my innocence last week.)
I'm losing my ability to remember the lyrics to "Bryan played Guitar" by Chuck Coleman. The only line I remember now is "Half my friends will spend their lives, bored as hell from nine to five." Very good song, and I am still upset that it did not transfer properly to my mp3 player. In a related musical tangent, I believe the song "Changes" by Tupac Shakur may be one of the most poignant songs of our generation.
It seems completely ridiculous and incomprehensible that I was once very timid about walking around in a city by myself. In the beginning of my trip, I would feel secure only when I was holding a map in my warm little hand. Envisioning my former clueless map-clutching self now sends me into hysterics. I used to marvel at people that traveled without a guide book, but the truth is, you really don't need one. It's a luxury, not a necessity. (But then I'd be hard pressed to name an actual necessity outside 2 changes of clothing, soap, and a toothbrush.)
Oh, I went for a lazy Sunday morning stroll in Riga. It was very lovely, up until the point that I saw some man's genitals hanging out of his pants. Then I kind of felt like upchucking.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
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8 comments:
my boy pac representin'
All I see is rascist faces...misplaced hates makes digrace to racists
I see the newly acquired mechanic skills have brought new perspective. I have been enjoying your G ride, although I will probably redo my truck in October.
The Dillo rises again.
oops, that is digrace to races...doesn't make much sense otherwise.
i hereby will stop dominating this comment section.
I <3 the elder one!
Perhaps we shall converse at a later time. There is much to tell the little one, no?
I believe that you should have another house party when I pilgrimmage to the homeland of Spring, Texas. There I must reclaim the G ride.
Feel free to dominate the comment section...I don't see a war erupting over it. :)
And for anyone who is reading this and is curious: yes, my brother and I do converse using a motley assortment of slang and proper English. We are weird. It runs in the family.
The weirdness only runs on the paternal side of the family. The maternal side has only positive qualities--ha!
"Who sends a picture of the backside of their dog? Honestly!"
I fail to understand...
oh, I was just commenting on an email that Mom sent me earlier in the day. A potential roomie sent me a pic of his dog and it was pretty funny, because it was not of the dog's face...rather the opposite end.
Speaking of, we will have to play the Dead Game w/ Oodle when you come back.
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