Recent Fillings Within My Mind Cavaties

Obama takes Iowa:
The Big Cat whooped up Hilary and Johnny "J. Fox" Edwards. Although Iowa doesn't necessarily crown you champion, Obama's showing was something special. He got independent votes, college students to actually vote and first-timers out. Democratic Baby-booms tended to vote for Hilary but their votes were off set and one-uped by the groups I just mentioned.

My Boy Ron Paul:
I'm not sure if folks are familiar with Ron Paul. He's a libertarian Republican presidential candidate coming from the glorious state of Texas. He's against the war, against the war on drugs, for political term limits and for personal liberty. Considered a long shot by most he's crushed one-day fundraising numbers. He set a single day record with $4.5 million on the anniversary of Guy Fawkes' famed 5th of November Gunpowder plot. Then on the anniversary of the Boston Tea Party, Ron Paul threw his previous record into the bay by raising $6 million more. So far his war-chest hasn't translated into big poll numbers. There is some talk of an independent campaign is he fails to secure the Republican nomination.



Pakistan:
Scary, scary, scary. A country with raising militant Islam. Martial law, supreme court suspensions, political assassinations. At Musharraf's fingertips are red buttons readied for nuclear strikes, within fortified caves in Pakistans tribal regions Bin Laden Plots. What approach should America take with our "war on terror ally"?

Hiatus. Is it? Was it? Here I am under the covers in a San Francisco hotel watching Sunday talk shows sipping on horrible coffee (it's so bad that powdered cream makes it better) and itching to write. Itching to restart the blog and make it better. Telwell 2.0. The blog up to this point was a picture and paragraphs of semi-decent jargon. That's gonna change. I've got my media team fired up. We're going vids, music, maybe a design or two. We're gonna put in all kinda crazy links. Now that Friedman discovered the world is flat, I've employed tech machines throughout the globe. Although we're in full force, real-time, our first video is going back in time...

Life Updated

Recent Affairs of a Good Life:

300: Wow! Is this movie an experience or what? The look is revolutionary. The off-colored film appear brushed with a metallic stroke. Heavily relied on slow motion drew you into the action. In slow motion, slicing swords appeared to cut flesh and at times through the movie screen, then blood would irrupt as if at a splatter-paint convention. Musically, the soundtrack meshed with the actions perfectly. In the most violent episodes slow motion and synchronized instrumentals made warriors appear like untouchable herculean heroes. If you don't mind violence, gore and skies darkened with raining arrows then 300 is a fabulous way to spend a few hours.

Peter, Bjorn and John: These rockers are straight outta Sweden. Home of beautiful blonds, safe yet sophisticated cars and Swiss cheese. Not that they are from Switzerland but I'm sure they have some Swiss cheese. I mean I've never yodeled at the foot of the Matterhorn while enjoying the aromatic pleasures of my herbal RICOLA!!! But I still frequently indulge in Swiss cheese. PB&J's album incorporates differing flavors better that a PB&J sandwich. Big fat bass lines aided and abetted by drum machines, samples and the round ones often times played in a garage. The main vocalist sounds like Elvis Costello and refreshingly pronounces some words with a Nordic accent. Some lyrics paint pictures, some invoke emotions and others generate ideas and inspiration. The aptly fit "Roll the Credits" soothes your inner anxiousness and suggests, "Let's take the easy way out, let's pull away for good, let's pull the curtains down and leave." Now imagine it with a finger picked mandolin and the drum roll of a marching army. I'm into the album. You can hear some tracks here.

UCLA, UCLA, UCLA
After missing last years March Madness I've come to realize home much I LOVE it. These kids want to win. There are no shoe contracts or money laden scoring incentives. It's like this: You don't hustle, you don't play. You complain, you sit. College basketball is a beautiful sport. Unlike the pros, this is about the cohesiveness of the team. There are few isolation plays, rarely do you see a player Kobe-it(dribble up court, no pass, instant fadeaway forced shot). It's all about winning. These kids play for each other and although few win, all try their hardest. March Madness is the greatest sporting event of the year...every year.

"Lost"
Like my mom says, "One question is answered and three more come up." Summed up perfectly. It's very entertaining but at times it lacks answers. Showing the events that led to Locke's stint in the wheel chair answered pre-island Locke questions. But what about delving into how and why Locke could walk after the plane crashed. Just a thought, regardless I'll tune in again this week.

Santa Barbara
Beautiful. I've mainly been on the Eastside and Downtown. Working a bit at Whitcraft Winery. We got a good crew down there trying to put the finishing touches on bottles so their contents can be poured in stemmed glasses and sniffed and drank with considerable thought. Sadly, it's temporary work but definitely a cool thing to be a part of.
Spring and it's rising temperatures have dipped in and out of the forecast lately. Last Friday I pedaled to Butterfly Beach. Once a bastion of youngsters laying around listening to tunes, throwing boches balls and sipping a cold one or two. Now, wow, what a difference. Even on a weekday it was filled with loud, out of town college meatheads more interested in making their presence known than appreciating the beach.

Shout Out's:
The boys up on Loma Media (excluding Sammy) for having Sunday afternoon BBQ's. Yesterday's menu included Tri-tip, chicken breasts and grilled crunchy asparagus with an infusion of an amazing city view complemented by a zesty setting sun.
Attorney General Gonzales and his muscular fortitude. I thought he'd have fallen off the cliff by now. He must have enormous strength in those fingertips to continually hold onto the edge. He'll slip into the disgraced abyss sooner than later.

Country of the Week: Iran. The gull, under all this international pressure, to detain a boat full of British soldiers. Like the country or, in all likelihood not, they sure make the news interesting...them and that whole legal custody battle over Anne Nicole Smith's infant child. I think the father is her deceased billionaire ex-husband's son. It's the only way he could get that fortune back.

Bye.

The Saddest Four Year Anniversary

This administration is shit. Sorry grandma and everyone that I may have offended with my language. If you were offended because I'm calling this Bush Regime excrement then take off your partisan veil and look at what's happening. Oh man, a war started and being conducted with lies. An unnecessary war that has sparked a civil war and may further destabilize the most volatile region on earth. A freaking war that has inflicted pain on mothers in Kansas, mother-less children in Baghdad and a saddened young man sitting in a coffee shop welling up with tears in his eyes. My pain is probably the easiest to overcome. I don't have first hand suffering. My brother isn't worrying about IED's, my father can safely walk at the farmers market and my mom isn't grieving over her children whose lives were taking prematurely.
Do I bear responsibility for this war? Did I do everything I could have to prevent it? I was demonstrating over four years ago against Bush's push for war but what have I done since? I guess I voted against Bush in '04 but was I out there encouraging others to vote? No. I know that I'm not to blame for this bloody war but I can't help but feel some responsibility for what MY country is doing. I'm ashamed. I'm angry. I'm sad.
I'm not about pointing fingers. Well, actually, let's just get this one out of the way. This is the fault of Bush/Cheney/Rumsfeld and all those neocons who lied to and in essence cheated the American people into this quagmire . For those of you who voted for Bush I'd love to say you bear responsibility. That by backing this guy your support led to war. A war that continues to escalate as I type every letter. But I'm not gonna blame you. I'm not gonna say "see what you've caused." I know a lot of people like to be partisan, blaming those who vote in different primaries and agreeing with those that tell you what you want to hear. I'm so over division. We need to come together and figure out a solution to this mess. We need dialogue and if I hear one more of those SOBs who says I don't support my troops or I'm un-American because I question the actions of my government then I'm just gonna say it louder. Do you hear me Tom Delay? You don't scare me punk ass.

QUESTIONS

Where in the World is Tommy Franks? Has our valiant general who "Hoorad" his way to Baghdad disappeared. I'm guessing hunting in Texas and routing for North Carolina in the Tourney.

How many young men and women serving in a war zone are gonna come back and not be taken care of? Do you think that those with mental health problems will get help? Shit this "troop supporting" admin. isn't even caring for those with blown off appendages.

What was the price of Halliburton stock before the war? $20 Now? $32.45 (but it split once since the war). Cheney's snarling all the way to the bank. Freaking Puto.

Is this war worth one more American soldier's arm or Iraqi child's life or one cent that could be spent here on education, health care and permanent housing for those ignored during Katrina?

What are you doing to oppose this war?

Here's the very least I can do...the website to the House of Representatives, you can write a letter expressing your views. Remember we have the freedom to voice our opinions here and don't let some bantering, partisan bully tell you otherwise. Lois Capps I'm watching you. Feinstein and Barbara also. Arnie, I'm still disappointed in you for campaigning with Bush in '04, but you can make it up to me if you don't do the same for the Hawks in '08. Bush, I'm done with you. Enjoy that presidential library. It will serve to us as a reminder of your disastrous performance and in turn it will be your only positive legacy.


PS. I'm pissed because these partisan Republican hacks hijacked my American Flag. They must have stock in the flag business because all over the world they're buying them...and burning them.

Lets change things. Start with yourself.

Lisbon, Spain then Cali

Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon. A city of rich history and cheap eats. Located on a river that saw many of an explorer sail to an unknown, but adventurous fate. Portugal, pushed to the edge of the Atlantic by Spain but unrelenting when distinguishing itself from it's only land neighbor. Oh Portugal, how I miss thee.
Before arriving I was informed that Lisbon was a piece of work. Unique by its own right, and proud of it. An island on the Iberian Penninsula which survived the centuries when Spain was the greatest conquering nation on Earth. Portugal, small in area, people and GDP but not heart and mind. The worlds greatest navigators, shipbuilders and, arguably, at one time, conquerers. Just take out your atlas and find Brazil, Angola and Macau. Besides Macau, they're all a tad bigger than they're mother tongue land, to see the very least. Before arriving at the Sete Rios bus station I knew I was in for something special.
Being the unorganized person I am at times I didn't have a place to stay upon arrival. It's never a good thing to arrive at a busy bus/train/metro station in a large city at night with no place to stay. But as if heaven sent, a computer with free internet access stood glistening in the station. I hadn't seen many computers in bus stations and to be FREE, man you had to be kidding me. It wasn't the greatest of connections but I found a few hostel searching websites. On one search I found a hostel by the name of Oasis that had super high ratings. Somewhere in the mid 90s, almost unheard of. After finding directions, next were my bearings in the metro and I was off. I got off at my stop, up 4 flight of escalators and I was in the middle of a square next to a statue of a man that I assume by his hand shading the imaginary sun was some sort of an explorer. I walked the hilly streets looking for the hostel. Some drunk guy befriended me. (Note to you travel novices: Don't follow drunk guys who offer you directions at night in a European capital...unless you willing to punch him for the slightest reach of your stuff.) The guy thought he was funny but in the end directed me to the hostel. I walked in right after a group of 7 Aussie girls. Not a bad start.
Lisbon is very similar to San Francisco. Hills, trolleys, hippies, a replica of the Golden Gate Bridge and art. Every night I would sit at a vista spot just steps from the hostel and watch the sun set behind the red bridge. People of every variety were out. Stoned dread-lockers, thugs with corn-rows, old-folks supported by canes and the government, babies in strollers gazing at some of their first sunsets. Those nights were some of the most magical I've ever spent. I met amazing people in Lisbon, including a young lady that is very special to me.
The magic of Lisbon can hardly be conveyed in writing or pictures. It was about the time, place and people. Go and you'll see.

*Although I traveled Spain for three weeks after I left Lisbon I'm not going to go into too much detail. Not that it wasn't great but I'm now home and I want to talk about other things. So here's a quick overview. Madrid is big and there are lots of things to do. Frankly, I wasn't huge on it. BIG cities aren't my fav's in general. I have two that I love and that's enough for me. New York and Paris already take up enough space in my heart. Granada in southern Spain is unreal. It was the last bastion of Islamic power on the Iberian Peninsula. The Moorish architecture is beautiful, crowned by the Alhambra, the city is set below the ominous Sierra Nevada Mountains and the tapas are gratis. Go. Last but certainly not least: Barcelona. Up in Catalonia, this olympic city is dark-chocolate rich in culture. The architect Gaudi reigns but Ronaldinho is king. I stayed with my special lady friend I met in Lisbon. We had a blast, it was hard leaving her and the European continent but the Golden State was a callin'. A morning Swiss air flight landed me in LA(I can't stand that place). Then an Airbus ride up to East Beach and bam! I was back on the Riviera. So now, after being home for a while and adjusting to SB life, I'm really glad to be back.

Back in Pacific Standard Time

We'll here I am back home. Santa Barbara, California. Home of Karch Kiraly, La Super Rica, and rude, honk-happy L.A.ers who think that they own the place. It's good to be back home. But really, I'm happy just to see my family and friends. SB is a beautiful place. The Coastal mts. slope to the foothills flattening to the beach where the sea extends to the Channel Islands. On the eyes it doesn't get much better than these next of the woods. But all this said and done I'm not quite sure that SB, California and the U.S. is the place for me at the moment. I can't handle the rules everywhere. I'd like to make decisions based on my ability to judge what's right and wrong.
Maybe this is just my initial reaction to change. Well of course it's my initial reaction and I'm in need of adjustment. We'll see.
Back to the last few months of my trip. It's amazing how lazy I was writing this and how fast time flew. I believe I left off in Hungary. My plan after Hungary was to head down to Romania. I was intrigued by Transylvania, castles, the grand party on New Years Eve due to Romania's EU accession, and rural areas virtually unchanged for the last couple hundred years. I arrived at the Budapest train station early in the morning mid-December in order to transfer to a train heading in the direction of Bucharest. My connecting train wouldn't arrive for the next 3 hours and during this time I started to have some doubts. Did I really want to continue heading east in the dead of winter? Where temperatures can drop to -20 or -30 Celsius? I had planned on meeting my friend in Madrid at sometime and heading in the complete opposite direction with an exceedingly depleting bank account didn't make much sense. I took out my little organizer and made a list of 5 possibilities. Going to Romania, back to Berlin, staying in Budapest at a hostel, or with a friend there or catch the next train heading west. I went with the last choice. I checked the schedule saw a train leaving to Prague in 30 minutes and decided to head back to the Czech capital.
I spent a semi-frigid birthday and Christmas in the once Soviet invaded capital. I really enjoyed this tour of duty in Prague. Probably because I mostly stayed out of the touristy areas. I would walk through neighborhoods, sit in squares and read in cafes. A great book to read, especially in Prague because it takes place in Prague and is written by a Czech, is "the Unbearable Lightness of Being." Strange but good. I met some really cool folk at the hostel. A couple of savage Tasman's, a stony Canadian (from you guessed it BC) and a couple of wrilly Americans to name a few. After almost two weeks of guitar playing (I bought me a travel size for my birthday) and countless Czech Budvars I decided it was time to get to the Iberian peninsula.
Through Germany and onward to Paris. I spent a day in Paris with my friend Louis. I ate an amazing eclair, watched a weird movie and did a tasty bistro dinner. After goodbye cheek kisses to his cousin and her friend I hastefully grabbed my bags from his apartment and metroed it to the train station. I jumped on the train, unloaded my bags and went to put on my iPod. Bummer. The pod was back at Lou's plugged into the wall charging. It was alright, I had been listening non stop to anyone of my four different ones for the past 5 years. I slept upright in a seat that night surrounded by African immigrants. I woke up at the crack of dawn in fog shrouded French Basque country.
My final destination was San Sebastian. Or as I will refer to it for now on as "the Bastion." The Bastion is the cultural center of Pais Vasco, or in English, Basque Country. The Basques are a cultural group with one of the most distinctive and unique languages on Earth. No one really knows where the language originates from because it has no linguistic relatives. Some scholars believe it was the language of the original Iberians who occupied the peninsula thousands and thousands of years ago. The Basques were heavily oppressed during the Franco regime which ruled Spain from the late 30s, following the civil war, to the mid 70s when Franco eventually died. During this period the language was banned. Not only in schools or public but in households as well. A story goes that a couple was married for thirty years and only after Franco died did they realize they both spoke Basque. During the civil war the Basques sided against Franco and with the Communists. The communist promised complete self rule to the Basques if they helped in winning the war. Unfortunately they lost and the Basques were to pay a heavy price. A quick factoid. Hitler and Mussolini were allies of Franco and helped him with troops and fire power. In fact one of the first aerial bombardments was executed by the Nazis on the Basques in a town called Guernica. This slaughter was later depicted in a famous Picasso painting of the same name. Check it out here.
I really enjoyed my time in the Bastion. It's one of the most picturesque places I've been...ever. Two large cove shaped beaches are separated by a river that empties into the Atlantic. Or when the tide is right big swells come up the river and crash 20 yards in. Next to the river a large, lonesome hill bearing a Basque flag and a statue of Jesus is squeezed between the sea and the old quarter. The old quarter is full of bars serving pintxos. Pintxos, or tapas, are little snacks that one eats generally during lunch or before dinner. The Bastion has the reputation of having the tastiest ones in Spain, but also the most expensive. Here's a picture. During my stay I went on hikes through the surrounding hills, played soccer on the beach, played more guitar, met fabulous people and rang in the new year. The Bastion is truly a special place and I can say very confidently that it's my favorite small city that I went to in Europe. Go if you can.
After two weeks, I decided to head west along the northern coast of Spain. While in San Sebastian I met a girl who was to be studying there for the semester. Classes didn't start for a little while so she decided to join me for about a week. We went to the provinces of Cantabria, Asturias and Galicia. They are all quite small but unique in their own ways. Asturias is famous for its sidra, a cider made of apples, Galicia for its language and Celtic heritage and Cantabria, well actually it doesn't have much going on but that's what makes it unique. We departed in Santiago de Compostella, a famous destination for many catholic pilgrims. There is an amazing cathedral there and we stayed with a nice guy who we met on couchsurfing.com.
Lisbon was my next stop. An amazing city, which I fell in love with. I met amazing people, saw things my mind hardly could comprehend, and discovered some fantastic music. For these reasons and many more I am going to devote the next post entirely to the Portuguese capital.
Till Next Time...Ciao.

Better Late than Never...

Okay. Now I'm not sure many people care about this thing anymore because I know a month and a half break shows a lack of interest on my part. I could explain why it wasn't a lack of interest or care but that just I didn't get around to it. But all of that is rhimsical, not living in the now, twig terd bullocks. (Haven't heard that one in a while, huh?) So let me began where I left off. Seeing that I'm on a community computer in a stylin Lisbonion hostel this may take a couple posts, I like to share.
Left off meeing Co Mike Elwell in Paris. Or better me meeting him. In Paris, I emailed Louis, a buddy I had met a few months back on the Laotian and Chinese border waiting for a promised, but uncertain, bus. He hooked me up in Paris at a friends house and I was able to really enjoy Paris. IE: talking politics while chewing on a flakey croissant, and adjusting my beret in the mirror.
After Paris I went up to Amsterdam. I stayed with Jess and his girlfriend Jenneka and once again had a blast. I went to the Van G(hrrr)ogh museum and the Rhikts museum. Both really interesting. Van Geezes and Rembrantdizzles.
From Hammsterdam on an over night train to Prague(Praha). Supposed to be a sketchy train but it was cool. I shared my compartment with two German citizens of Russian origin were going to visit a friend for his 30th birthday. Had a brew hit the sack.
Prague:
Arrrived to Prague central station at 8ish. Get my berings, take a bus(don't pay, play ignorance) find my hostel. Hostel Elf. Really nice play, patio, nice lounge, cheap original Czech Budweisers. Not consistent hot water, but yoiu gotta know the right times to take a shower.
Mitchel B showed up a day after I got there. He was geeking out on the drive from the airport. We caught up a bit and then took a walk around the city. Czecked out Charles Bridge, an Ice Hockey game and our fair share of bars, clubs and restaurants. After a few days in the Czech capital we went down south to Czesky Krumlov. A small medievel city, with a large ominous castle and a horseshoe shaped bend that nearly encircles the old town when viewed from a bird's eye.
Budapest, Hungary was the next to be red X'd. Budapest was great. We walked around the city a bit met up with some folks we had met in Praha, climbed a fantastic hill, Citadella I think was the name, and rewarded ourselves a g'old Hungarian bath. Huge pools of hot spring water undera doom contructed of tinted glass. Mosiacs on the walls. The sauna was killer though. The heat stung the flesh of your lungs.
Following Hungary we took numerous trains up to Krakow, Poland. Another beautiful place. A red castle sits on a large hill along the river. From the castle's vantage the old town, with it's huge square, and the Jewish quarter are easily spotted.
We went out to Auzwitz and Birkenau. Heavy, heavy stuff. Stuff I can't understand. How can humans treat other humans so bad? That's been my question everytime I think of the Nazis. Actually, frankly, its all wars. Yeah I know some are worth fighting for. I dare anyone, including the US army to come into my home, my city, my state and enadnger those I love. But before this happens every last means necessary must be taken to avoid the armed conflict. This US Admistration, and I mean admisitration because it was me and it probably wasn't you either, who concocted every thing. WMD, greeted with flowers, other governments will follow, link to Al Qaeda. That's not me and that's not you. I don't understand how these people get away with that. Are we letting them? Do we not care enough about others? I guess this is old news. Kinda though. 21,500 more troops. Ouch. I'm not home, I don't know how everyone is reacting and truthfully I feel a bit odd questioning fellow Americans when I'm not even home. But 21,500 more. On top of 120,000. On top of 3,000 troops, sons and daughters, dead for lies. How many wounded? 10, 20 thousand? 30? This is not right. I gotta do something.
Back to the Past. From Poland Mitch took an overnighter to Praha where he was flying out a day after the morning his train arrived. At the last mintute I decided to stay in Krakow. I was enjoying the city and I thought I was gonna head over to Romania. Transylvania, wildlike, castles, Dracula, all intrigued me. I stopped off in Eger, Hungary on the way. Really cool place. A road lined with door that lead to wine caves, cellers and barrels. Some great, young, still fermenting wine. I met some Russians studying in Budapest. We hit it off clanking glasses full of the local red, "bull's blood."

Oui, Oui

Bare feet on a hard wood floor, sheltered from the wind and rain, sipping on a strong cup of Guatamalen coffee, inside a cozy apartment in Paris. Could I ask for more. Maybe a loved one. Got that too. My brother is in the city as well. Sometimes things just work out.
I arrived yesterday morning from Antwerp, Belgium. Antwerp was very interesting. I hadn't envisioned headed to this northern port city in any of my plans. But in Berlin, yes almost three weeks ago, I met a man, who prefers to be called a "universal assistant". Baba D...is his name and this UA has been travelling the world since 1992. Bali, India, Brazil, you name it. Baba looked and talked as if he was well traveled; the hair from his chin 6 inches long, the rest of the beard only about three or so, and the tips of his blond hair well past his shoulders. He speaks nine languages including Balinese and Hindu. We had many conversations, in English, about life. He claims to never have drank coffee and hasn't touched booze in 25 years. He says when he did drink it was enough for three lives. He always found ways to incorporate the Mayan calender in life. From what I understand this time keeper is based on the moon, not the sun, and the 9 month cycle it takes for babies to be born. Honestly, I don't really get it but Baba says there's nothing to get, it just is. Anyway you can check out one of his websites here.
Basically I went to Antwerp because I had to head west from Germany to get nearer to Paris and in Antwerp there was a cheap place for me to stay. It was diffinitely a great learning experience: I was exposed to spirituallity, theories and esoteric beings. Of all the reasons to come to Europe(the food, the sights, the beer, the history) meeting new people and listening to their stories was and is the most important thing to me. To some degree we're in a bubble back home and its great having that bublle popped and understanding this world encompasses so many diffeent lifestyles and viewpoints.
So now I'm in Paris looking forward to meeting up with Co and his girlfriend for lunch. Where I guarantee I'll have a coffee, and an onion soup (here it isn't French, it just is).

Quickly:

Reading: "Midnight's Children" by Salman Rushdie
Eating: So much cheese I'm lactating...just kidding...about the lactating part
Hoping: I'll get one sunny day in Paris
Excited about: Seeing Co and eating the stinkiest cheeses right thenand there
Looking forward to: Prague and drinking the finest beer on the planet with Mitchell B!!!

Peace on Earth,
Tyler J. Fox

Gathering Moss

Berlin was a whirlwind. Well, more like the wind was whirling. The first thing I noticed in Berlin was the raised subway tracks. I guess it's not actually the subway if it's raised but, anyway, that's what I noticed. Next was the diveristy of the people. When I say diversity I don't particularly mean ethnically. Diversity in the sense that there is such a wide array of clothes, hairstyles, lifestyles, actually just about anything that can be different was. I imagine this sense of individuality flourised in the years following the collapse of the wall. With a new realized freedom people just went for it and didn't allow the shackles of conformity weigh them down any longer. Conversely, in Santa Barbara girls watch whats next on the tube to see what they should wear. Boys, without exception, follow the ebbs and flows of trend. Personally, when people do the same thing I don't believe this to be freedom, it's actually conformity. What do I need to fit in? is a common thought amongst youth. I am not innocent of having had this same ideology. I was raised in Southern California, possibly the most superficial place in the States. But being out here, in particular Berlin, I've noticed that people act, dress, and live the way that want to. Just an opening thought.
I'm back in Dresden. Today the weather is wonderful, easily the best of November. It's a mild 14 degrees celcius. Dotting a clear blue sky are a few coasting clouds floating few and far between. The River Elbe, serenly slicing Dresing in half, flows with a calmness that maskes the dangers it's currents posess. I'm a fan of the city BUT I'm a bit tired of the routine out here.
Truth is I find it hard to connect with Germans. There's one or two that I can hang out with but for the most part it's hard to communicate. It's not the language, they speak English great. Truthfully I feel looked down upon. Not pitied, but unimportant. I feel that it's not the cultural differnces as much as it's that I'm American. People demonize the States, at times rightfully so, and they prech how the US is unfair, and ignorant. But when someone judges me not based on who I am but where I'm from that's unfair, ignorant and hypocritical.
I'm tired of politics. Every person I meet who finds out I'm American, wants to talk about the same things. How did Bush get re-elected? who will run for president in 2008? what is the plan for Iraq? Then there's the war for oil shouters who are unwilling to listening to any other points of view, there's a common conclusion that Bush is a facsist, and all the 9/11-government-conspiracy theorists "informing" you of tales as tall as the towers themselves. I've heard every theory that "informed kids" read on a web site that their friends showed them and swore "it was the truth."

The truth is, at times, I talk politics and I know I'm well informed, especially having not spent much time on US soil lately. I even feel somewhat obligated to assure people that not all of us want war, more guns, bigger walls, and world domination. But, come on folks, I'm just travelling like the rest of you. I guess maybe I'm just a bit fatigued. I'm gonna find something, some direction and I'm gonna devote time and energy into. I can't keep going through the same routine. It gets old.

Reading: "Cafe Europa" A book about living in Eastern Europe after the fall of the USSR
Listening to: Radiohead "Hail to the Theif"
Anticipating: Seeing my brother in Paris
Surprised By: The 49ers' 4-5 record. Go Niners!
Hoping For: Another beautiful day tomorrow.
peace and love,
T.J. Elwell

Pushing Blocs Eastern

Sitting in Lollie's Hostel in Dresden. I've now been here five days and have greatly enjoyed myself. I arrived Wednesday night at 10pm. Unfortunenly(or, maybe fortunently) I didn't arrive on two wheels with legs pedaling. The last day of riding the bike brought me to the fairy tale town of Hameln (from the Brother Grimms "the Pied Piper"). Hameln was alright but the hostel was outta commission and the cheapest place I could find to stay was 45€. Too high for my account. That night in Hameln the wind was swirling, leaves chaotically twirling, and the rain splattering against the window pane. I started to think that tomorrow my bike journey may have to take a break. My left knee was also in some serious pain from going to hard the past 4 days. Upon contemplation of my next move I decided to wake up in the morning and get a train across the former cold war boarder to the famous battle-scarred city Dresden.
Dresden is a culturite's heaven. Art studios, cafes, bars, independent clothing establishments, and Turkish kebap eateries line the graffiti decored streets. The city center is small enough to walk through in under an hour. Since 90%+ of the city was destroyed in the waning days of the European theater in 1945, most of the buildings are new for European standards. (I couldn't imagine the magnificence of Europe in the years precluding the first World War, and even before the second. Damn Germans). There are stil some old churches and government buildings that have been here for hundreds of years and which are pleasing on the eyes. A few times here I thought of San Franicsco and what it must of looked like before the earthquake and subsuquent fire that destroyed vast swaths of America's greatest city.
My next plan is to head up to Berlin...uhhh, the big B, and then make a few day trip to Postdam. Then I'll come back down here, stay for maybe another week, and then hop on a train that'll drop me off in Prague starry-eyed and rosy cheeked. Germany is awesome, I can't believe in my preliminary plans I was looking to avoid it. Word of advice: Come to Dresden.

Tidbits
Reading: "Chronicles: Vol. 1" Bob Dylan
Drinking: The original "Budweiser" from Czech. Amazing.
Thinking: Girls get better looking the furthest east you go...stopping of course at the Ural Mountains.
Hoping: To see good live music somewhere in Berlin.
Wishing: All of you could spend time out here with me.

Peace and Love,
Tyler James Elwell...beatch!

Oh, How Things Change

Last post I was sitting at my Turkish hostel professing my strong curiosity and fascination with ancient Byzintine. But soon this nostalgia soon wore off. After 3 days I was ready to leave. I was fatigued. In 1 month I had been to Beijing, Moscow, San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles and Istanbul. I was mentally, physically and emotionally drained. I was far from ready to delve back into chaotic Asia, where buses run on their own clocks and painted lines in the streets are merely suggestions. Although I was feeling this way I had in some degrees alerady committed myself to Turkey. I mean, for darn sake's, I flew over all of Europe, with TWO layovers on the continent, to get to Turkey. Yet my heart and mind were not prepared for the challenges which a developing country throws at you on a day to day basis. With all these mixed feelings I decided that I would leave Istanbul and head down the coast to Galipolli, to get an injection of hands on history. The night before I was to leave in the early morning to hop on a bus, my dear friend Jesse instant messaged me. Jess and I go back from the good ol' college days (wow, I'm becoming aged). Jess lives in Amsterdam where he is working on a thesis which upon satisfactory completion he'll be provided with a slip of paper authenticicating that he truly is a master. Anyway, that night Jess let me know that in two days he would be celebrating his birthday and that I should make my way out there. After going over logistics and finding a cheap flight I was on a plane the morning of his birthday.
AMSTERDAM! Now some of you may hear the name and instantly think the red light district, decrimilized drugs and Heiniken. But there is so much more to the city. Boats on canals, bikes on their paths and metro lines, keep an overflow of cars outta the center. The architecture is magnificent. If I knew a damn thing about it I'm sure I could say that it was gothic and neoclassical, or art deco and cubanist, but honestly I don't know what those mean. All I know is that the city looks like a place in a romantic film with a movie script ending.
I spent six wonderful days in the 'Dam. Thanks so much to Jess and his very welcoming girlfriend, Jenneka(I hope I spelled that right). To back track; the night before I left Istanbul I was talking to a German and an Andorrin guy. Both of whom, although seperatly, were on long bicycle trips that had taken them through Europe and were going to take them to India eventually. I started to think since my plans were about to be changed that I needed to come up with some new ones. Suddenly, the lightbulb flicked on. Next thing you know I'm in Amsterdam paying a Dutch guy 35€ for a blue, used road bike with ram horn handle bars and 25€ to the heavily tatooed Portuguese bike shop dude for a couple of bags to hang over the back tire and a routine tune-up . Now I'm 5 days into a bike trip that in it's entirity will cross the Netherlands, Germany and however many kilometers of the Czech Republic it takes to get me to Prague.
Who would've known a week ago. I sure didn't.

Bridging the Bosphorous

So here I am writing in the wee hours of the morning unable to sleep past 5 cause of my jet lag. I woke up and decided to head outta the dorm room and read a bit. At quarter to 6 I started to hear blaring loud speakers. The singing of the Koran, which is a call to prayer for all devout Muslims, comes from speakers atop Mosque minerets jetting towards heaven. 5 times a day the call occurs and you see herds of women in head scarves and men in casual dress(no shorts) heading to the various mosques. It's such a different world.
Today I'm gonna go on one of the boat taxis. I'm not sure where I'm going but I have my hostels business card so I know I'll get back. This city is interesting, beautiful and charming but I think I'm gonna take off tomorrow and head down the coast of the Aegean sea. I wanna get to the beaches and islands before the fall comes on and the temperatures drop. Along the way I'll stop at WWI battlefields (Galipoli), cities (Troy) and modern Muslim quarters where one can be sure the meat roasting is not pork.
In a city where Europe and Asia meld (not collide) I feel as though I'm in the Middle East. Hookas, belly dancers, dark complections and the divine prescence of religion are at every turn. It's a world that I have only seen in Indiana Jones movies and one that I hoped to someday experience. Well here I am Istanbul, at your gateway that is the end and beginning of not only land masses but also my previous notions of muslim life.
Till the next post.
peace and love.
Tye

The Bull's Eye in the Middle Kingdom

Today I rode a bike throughout the city like a true China man. This place is 100% absolutely rediculous. It is huge in every aspect. The streets, the buildings, the egos. I don't know what the next 20, 30, 50 years holds for this country but it's gonna be real interesting. One thing I've come to believe being here is that China's continual rise of power will be peaceful. I've come to this opinion because these people don't want to do anything to stop the flow of money coming into their paws. Now, that being said they always want to keep face, whether bargaining or reassesing bad decisions, so I can't say they wouldn't fight. But these people want to get RICH. They'll sign contracts with Sudan, Zimbabwe, Iran, Myanmar and North Korea if it's benefits them. They'll let you check out late from the hostel for the right price and you can flag down almost any car in the country and it'll give you a lift for the right kilometer to Yuan ratio. Shit (no pun intended)Almost every public bathroom costs money and with my bladder I've been forking out some dough.
I'm in amazement of this place but not in a negative or positve way but I'm just, utterly amazed

The Orient Express

What Up folks. I'm sitting in Xi'an, China amongst plumes of cigerette smoke. It's ridiculous, people smoke everywhere here. No joke...everywhere. It's been an interesting trip so far. Pretty much everything I planned has not gone as planned. My traveler's cheques got denied. I guess my signature didn't match. Sure pal. I was gonna get a train outta Yantai but ended up flying because I wasn't gonna sit on a hard ass wooden bench for 24 hours. Yesterday I flew from Yantai to Shanghai and then had to transfer to another airport to get my flight Xi'an. I was fortunent enough to go through the heart of Shanghai. It was absolutely amazing. When people talk about China as the next superpower they must have been to Shanghai. Ever building sparkles as though it's made of diamonds. At one point I counted 13 building cranes and I was only looking straight. The contrasts are so different here though. 25 cent 22oz beers are sold next to giant Louis Voutton stores. Street vendor's haggle, plead, beg, for the bill's that communist comrade Chairman Mao's round mug frequents. Communism only exists in the name itself. The Canadians have more social welfare.
The language is much different than Korean. I'm completely lost, well, almost. I've had ample time so I've taught myself some greetings, the numbers, and a few sayings like "how much is it" and "where is the bathroom." Also I know my liquids: water, beer, and tea. The writing is way out of my league. I ain't even gonna attempt it.
My next stop will be Chengdu. It's in the foothills east of the Tibetan Plateau. I'll probably head outta here Tuesday. Tomorrow I'm heading out to the Terracotta warriors. Google them. I gotta get outta this smoke stained wire lined room. From the Orient with love.
Tye

Tyler Elwell to World: "Here I Come"

8 working days left, a month to say good-bye and still so much going on.
As I write, my passport is being transported to Busan via Cliff Claven's South Korean counterpart. Upon arrival, a travel agent will take my most valuable possession to the Chinese embassy where a double entry visa will join the collection of stamps and visas, after, of course I transfer the $125 it takes to tour China and re-enter the counrty, which will be needed, if say, you decide to take a float down the Mekong river in northern Laos. Laos you ask...I thought you were going to China, Russia and Europe? Isn't Laos going the exact opposite way? Well the answer is yes and yes. But since I've become completely consumed with the "China Lonely Planet" schemes having been brewing. I've imagined climbing mountain passes up to the Tibetan Plateau, trekking trough subtropical bamboo forests inhabited by pandas and floating river journeys that meander along gradual banks that are concealed by dense, morning fog. I'm going to a place where boat captains in large cone-shaped straw hats use sticks to navigate treacherous currents.
So here's my plan for the next few months: Complete my contract July 27th and head up to Seoul on the 29th. In Seoul, I'll see my good friend Amanda off, she's headed back to Colorado, and chill with Kristy and Mikey. I don't know how much chilling we're going to be doing up at the DMZ. We'll be guided by a US soldier, who will lend us binoculars to peer at North Korean servicemen. We'll tread lightly into one of the NK-dug infiltration tunnels found in the 70s by the Southies. And when scoping out the worlds largest flag pole with the worlds largest flag wonder why thousands of North Koreans are starving while such superficial propanganda continues to be perpetuated by this desperate, pathetic, saber-rattling, hermit state.
While up at the DMZ my passport will once again be in foreign hands. This time with another country that played a major role in the war that divided this peninsula: Russia. The Ruskies charge an arm and leg to get in their country as well, it'll probably total $170 or so. Once I get my visa I'll make my way back down to Yeosu. At this time, I'll no longer have a place to call my home, so I'm planning on renting a minbak (a room at a guesthouse) on the beach and just relaxing for a few days. With my heavy work schudule I rarely was able to travel throughout Korea or even relax much. So the first week of August I'm going to have a "Yeosu Vacation." Following this 4-day period of reading, playing guitar, swimming, eating and sleeping I'll train-it back to Seoul. My company to Seoul, will be Aaron and Michelle, who are two fabulous Ontarians that are getting hitched in October. They're both big basketball fans and with the US national team coming to play in Seoul mid-August I thought what could be better than a few beers and a few cheers with some friends before I take off. I bought (second to) top-rate tickets that are within barking distance of Kobe on the bench. D. Wade and Lebron are the two biggest names on the team. They're not guarenteed to suit up but still the chance to see them in Korea is just too cool. We're gonna see a double-header, US vs. Lithuania and South Korean vs. the Dirty Itals. The date is August 13th.
August 15th will be my last day on Korean soil, this time around. I'm departing from Incheon at 6pm and 12 hours later I'll be in China. No the plane isn't flying to Thailand and back, the FERRY will be crossing the Yellow Sea. From my Chinese arrival city, Yantai, I'll probably take a train to Xi'an, where there's some amazing old artifacts, such as the Army of Terracotta Warriors; 2,000 year old life-sized stone figures which number 6,000. My next stop will be Chengdu which is located in the Sichuan provcince. Those who enjoy spicy American-Chinese food dishes, may know this name better as Szechuan...ummm. I've read that a popular saying in China is "do not visit Sichuan when you are young," because you'll never want to leave. The province is known for it's spicy food and diverse people and geological terrain. It encompasses a third of traditional Tibet, and contains four of China's largest rivers, whose waters rush with Himalayan snow melt towards the sea. If I can brave the mountain passes, I'll head into Tibetan villages where Madarin is a foreign tongue and gaze at the green, red, yellow, and white prayer flags that line the pathways like parisian balconies on Bourbon Street. After scorching my taste buds and reducing my oxygen intake (at 16,000 feet) I'm gonna head south to the Yunnan province, which borders Myanmar, Laos, and Vietnam. Hearing from multiple sources that Laoatian life is peaceful and serene I figure why not hop on down. Plus, seeing that Myanmar is led by a brutal military junta and Vietnam seems too crowded and noisy, I decided that this small, communist, land-locked, "most heavily bombed country on Earth," was a place I wanted to check out. In Laos, I'm going to hang out in the north where I'll go on jungle treks and take pictures of temples built around trees. Ha!
From Laos, I'm going to head towards Beijing, I might fly, depends on how much time I spend on the way to and in Laos. On my way up I'll spend the night on a rural section of the Great Wall and wonder if any US spy satellites can see my middle finger from space. After I look for "lucy in the sky with diamonds," and enjoy a "golden slumber," I'll think about "yesterday" and realize that "tomorrow never knows."
La Paz

ps. Check out Mitch and Spratt's funky, electronic, monkey-on-a-unicycle-juggling-keyboards, duo...Lazertag at Surely Steezing

This Country is Going OFF!!!

Last night/early this morning I was awoken by the sound of thunder. It wasn't the vibrations that follow lightening bolts in the sky. It was the roar that only occurs in the waning minutes of a big time World Cup match.

Dae Han Min Gook(Fighting Korea), as they call themselves, were down a goal in the 81st minute until the overexposed(he's on every other commercial) but highly talented Park Ji-Sung tipped one over the Frenchie goalkepper to tie up the ballgame. I was instantly woken by the rattling of the building and the screams of joy that seemed to be coming from every direction. It was 5:30am.

They are freakin serious out here. On the radio in taxis all I hear are players names and "chuku"(soccer). Most bars have picked up 5x5 projection screens for the tourney. Every man, women and child can tell you the names of the players, in correct order, who touched the ball before they put one in the net. Matches dictate fashion. On gamedays the masses are dressed in red. With the human condensement of this nation the streets literally look like a sea of red. Everyone dawns the attire: shopkeepers, little kids, grandpas, Hines Ward(half-Korean), and your average English teacher. It's a fever. There is nothing that I've seen come close to this in the States. Koreans are highly proud of their unique culture which has had to fight to survive due to passed years of foreign invasion and forced assimialtion(during Japan's imperial quest of Asia in the first half of the 20th century most Koreans were forced to learn Japanese, adopt traditional Japanese cultures and customs and if disobeying these orders slaughtered without the least bit of rependence shown by the Japs). It is utterly amazing to be in a country that is absolutely obsessed with the beautiful game. No one really gave a damn about soccer here until the Koreans made it to the semifinals last cup, which was jointly held in SK and Japan. I'm so stoked that I'm here for this. It seems like one of those once in a lifetime chances that I can actually watch unfold in front of my eyes.

More notes on the Cup...I'm going for the States but they suck and I'm sure they ain't making it to the next round but it ain't impossible...I like England, Wayne Rooney's my favorite played and he's coming out like a trooper after breaking his foot 6 weeks ago...Argentina was utterly amazing in their 6-0 win over Serbia & Montenegro, it was something speical to watch...Brazil's hyped but the Aussies stuck with them pretty well, could they have Yankee-itis...Korea's going to the second round and they're gonna give some top teams a run for their money, they're a tight little squad. It's gonna be an excited next few weeks.

TRAVEL NEWS:
I made reservations for the slow boat to China. I'm leaving Incheon, South Korea on August 15th and landing in Yantai, China the following morning. Wow!

Hope all is well.
peace,
t.

6 WEEKS LATER

Well where do I start. Things are moving ridiculous quickly out here. I'm 2 months away from the completion of my year contract. I cannot believe that I've been gone that long. Stop. I always seem to talk about how much time I have left and I feel it may give the wrong impression to those of you who still take a gander at this neglected blog. It's not that I don't like it out here. I actually really love it. I love many aspects and one happens to be the food. Although the final culinary products are different from what I'm used to many of the ingredients are very familiar. The food is awesome. Let me give you a rudimentary description of most BBQ restaurants out here. You walk into one of these places and the first thing your senses intake is the aroma of sizzling pork, kimchi, onion, and mushrooms. You take off your shoes and proceed to sit down at a table. In most establishments sitting down does not involve a seat. Usually there'll be a 2x2 cushion that'll delay the on coming unfortableness that undoubtably all foreigners will experience. I make it about 5 minutes sitting American Indian style and then swing my legs out to the side. So you sit down and theres a BBQ pit set into the table. If nativeless, you order the food in survival Korean. I prefer Kalbi. It's pork ribs marinated in a teriyakish sauce. Before the meat comes the waitress (they're almost always women) brings side dishes. You're always guaranteed to get kimchi(the pickled cabbage in a red pepper sauce. It's what every, single Korean eats, they have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner, no joke. I love it but there's NO WAY I'M EATING IT BEFORE NOON.) shredded green onion/shallot type things, a basket of lettuce, hot green peppers and a few dipping sauces, usually a bean paste sauce and seasame oil with salt. Almost all places serve more side dishes but they generally vary. My favorite side dish is chop-chay. It's a noodle made from sweet potatoes. The noodles aren't sweet though. Typically they are cooked with spinach, onion, and pork. These flavors are infused into the stringy goodness. I love 'em. So you munch on these dishes for a bit and while you intake these uninherited tastes you start to grill up the meat right there in the pit on your table. Some place have gas other coals. On the meat dish there are also mushies and onions. The mushroom selection out here is fantastic by the way. The abundence has sparked an intrigue of the funghi and I'm thinking about delving into some literature that may help supplant my curiousity. The meat comes in big slabs so after cooking for a bit, the initiator grabs the meet with tongs and cuts it up with scissors. That's right good-old-fashioned-in-the-kitchen-drawer-used-mainly-to-cut-up-construction-paper-for-a-class-project-when-you-were-in-5th-grade scissors. For another few minutes you let the meat molecules transform and you premediate your plan of attack. You have to prepare because when you eat the meat you generally put it in a leaf of lettuce and add other ingredients. Garlic, shredded onion, sauces, kimchi, etc. You must make sure that the ingredients are replenished from the pre-game warm-up. The last piece of meat is flipped and it's go time. Grab a piece of lettuce put it in you left hand. With your right hand(strong hand) use chop sticks to pick up a piece of pork that is usually equal in volume to a 50 cent piece. Dip the pork in one of the sauces and place it on the lettuce. Pick up some of the onion and/or the mushroom grilling, add some kimchi, shredded onion, and any other ingredient at your disposal. But never, ever add the chop-chay to the lettuce, chop-chay is meant to be ate solely by itself and itself alone. Once all ingrediants are on your purpleish leaf of romain lettuce fold it like you would a burrito and stuff it all into your mouth. Unlike Koreans chew with you mouth closed and wash it down with water...unless you're with a Korean and then it's Soju. Harsh. I felt the burn just writing that word...

It Ain't Over Yet

Well it's been a rainy one for the last couple days and the weather report predicts it'll continue. I like the rain, or maybe its I prefer a change in the weather. Come to think of it, I just like change...sort of.
Work's flying by, the hours are like time-lasped blooming flowers in a nature documentary; beautiful but that much quicker to loosing their petals. Smooth days at work are great, but I know that my time will be up soon. Although I'm looking forward to my trip, I can't help but feel a bit of sadness knowing that soon I'll be leaving my friends, students and Korean life, all things that I've grown to love. It's a tough thing to get used to; knowing time is limited, knowing many of the people you spend time with you'll probably never see again. But as in the words of the late George Harrison and countless other enlighteneds, "all things must pass." The great thing about noticing the ticking hands of the clock is that I appreciate, value, acccept, borderline glorify the moments while they happen. Nostalgia's kicked in and I'm thankful. I'm not gonna except "you don't know what you've got till it's gone." I know what I got, I know what I want and I know what I won't have in about 3 1/2 months. Call it sentimental, call it fatalistic, call it whatever you wanna, but I'm gonna call it recognition.
Love you all,
Tyler James

"This is Billy and Brian, they're brothers. The little one with the long hair is John, Chloe's brother. Meet Benjamin's dad, he speaks good English(English well)."
"Hi nice to meet you...(small talk)."
Regina, my boss, continues, "The big one overthere is Kevin."
"The one running around, screaming 'I'm a monkey, I'm a monkey'?"
"Yeah. He's 7 years old but he'll be joining the Pisces class."
I feel a finger probing my ass crack and I spin around. There's little Daniel giggling, and speaking Korean gibberish. How do I know it's gibberish, because I ask the Koreans to translate and I'll I get is a shrug of the shoulders and a 'I don't know.' Daniel's a cute kid, he sports the only rat-tail I've seen in Korea and sometimes rocks a leather beret. Steeze for a four or forty year old.
"Have you met Phillip?"
"Is he the one that's been crying endlessly?"
"No that's Tony, Phillip is the one with the trains."
"Oh Yeah, I know Phillip." How couldn't I. The whole time at orientation he walked around with his toy cars and trains. I don't think he actually cares for the trains much. He just likes knowing that you know he's got trains.
"Who's that little guy?" I ask, gestering towards the back of a 3-footer whose in amazament of the colorful gadgets that remind me of toys I used to play with at the doctor's office as a child.
"Nick."
I thought to myself, it's nice to see at least one chiller.
We just got a new hoard of youngins. They're in the morning kindergarten classes. That pushes the total up to 18. Great for the business but an extra weight upon my shoulders. I'm now working from 9:30-6:30 and nearly teaching all the way through. It's quite a load. Let's just say I've been valuing my weekends like never before. Fortunently, my income will rise significantly this month, which means I'll be able to buy many half-full glasses.
A lot of these kids are young. I mean 3 or 4 American age(In Korea they use the Lunar New Year calender and when a child is born they already are a year old. One tacks on a year not on their birthday but at the start of a new year. Currently I'm 26.) I like all my kids and the young ones do the darndest things, from accidently falling out of their seats to giving you a kiss on the cheek when you least expect it. And although I love them, I'm making a statement now that I will live by for the rest of my life: I will never,ever work with small children for an extended period of time again. It's too draining.(period!) All you parents out there, I respect and partially understand everything, the sacrificies, the temper, the love and the frustration, it takes to raise a small child. Hats off to you. I'm years away.
The large influx of pre-schoolers threw me somewhat of kilter. But, I've regained my balance. My energy level is up, I'm teaching well, I can feel it. Students are learning, listening, and laughing. All the signs a teacher needs to know class is an enjoyable and productive environment. From counting your fingers to global warming, I'm covering the spectrum and enjoying it.
Outside work? Still reading a lot. Just finished an awesome travel book, "A Fortune Teller Told Me." An Italian internatioal journalist sees a fortune teller in 1976 that tells him not to fly in 1993. The Ital heeds the advice and travels Asia by train, boat, rickshaw, foot, and transidentalism. Now I'm working on a classic: "Adventures of Huck Finn." Awesome book. I'm on the wagon for the month of March. For a number of reasons: 1) I was tired of feeling like shit on Saturday morning. Bars, liquor stores and restaurants don't close out here. Weekend nights rarely end early. 2) I want to use the weekends to reenergize. Like I said the weeks can be draining, and I felt like my battery wasn't be recharged during the weekend. Quite the contrary. 3) My health. I may be young, but I'm not eager to grow old fast. 4)$$$. A trip on the horizon that will take me across two continents, 11 time zones, and a dozen countries. You think I'm gonna spend my money on shitty beer in Korean and be frugal in Prague. Yeah, right.

I don't know if anyone will read this anymore, I've been lazy, tired and sick, and haven't gotten a post out in some time. If no one is besides my folks that's alright. I like practicing my writing.
Peace and love from 350 miles south of the most militarized border in the world. Good Night and Good Luck.

beep, beep, beep...beep, beep, beep. My eyelids slowly retract. I feel a wet spot at the area where my ajar mouth meets the pillow. Although my brain and body are moving at a pace similar to that of a freightened turtle slowly reamerging from its shell, I delay not when silencing the alarm clock. These necessary devices may be the most annoying things on Earth. It's a sad day when you hear the wakening wail of a slumber slayer more than the cherping of birds. It's a sure sign that your working too much. Upon rolling over I'm partially blinded by the hyperlucid sunlight piercing through my maroon blinds. It's time to get up. I glance up at the clock hanging above a photo of my family. My grandma is center, with me and my bro at each of her sides and my mom and dad on the edges. Co's in his graduation gown. Good times. The clock reads 9:15. Feeling a full bladder pressing the issue I get up and walk towards the bathroom. I open the door to my room and head into the bathroom. Now in between my room and the bathroom is the "shoe area." I'm sure there is some official name for it but basically its where you take off your shoes when you walk into a restaurant, place of residence or various businesses, including my work. At my apartment this area tends to take the brunt of a cold night. The chill is able to penetrate the front door of my aptartment. I believe it seeps through the crack under my door, or may pierce through the wooden molecules that comprise the door. At times, the cold feels like a dagger, that is so sharp it inserts itself into the keyhole and emanates it frosty figure upon the desolete void that is the "shoe room." Thankfully, my room door is the mote to winters onslaught. More thankfully the morning temperature on Monday was mild and bearable in just boxers. After losing 2 lbs. in liquid weight I hop in the shower. Well is it a shower? Theres no basin, just a hole in the ground. There's no barrier seperating the runoff of water from the toilet, trash, or sink. In fact I turn on the shower from the sink. I push up the handle and adjust it till the temperature is just right and then I turn a nob on the facet that directs the water through a hose which connects to a shower head. 2 seconds later the water flows from the shower touching my skin at a point approximately 6 inches below the top of my skull. I'm not sure if water pressure exists out here and pulling the thumb-over-the-water-source-trick like you watering the yard, doesn't work in a barrierless bathroom. Water sprays everywhere but your lathered armpit. So anyway, I'm taking this shower and everything is going well. I'm shampooing the scalp and waking up. Then just I as I go to rinse out the chemicals in my mop, the water temperature drops to luke warm. Shit! I bite the bullet, rinse, lather, rinse, rinse, scrub, rinse. Then the water gets cold, really cold! I get the last bubbles of me, turn off the water, at the sink of course, and grab my towel. I'm freezing. I'm not quite sure if I'm using the towel dry off or as a blanket to keep warm. I think it was the latter because walking back into my room I notice a trail of water I've left across my floor. Hansel and Gretelish, but this is not a tool to find my way back, its a warning to stay away from the sub-arctic chamber. I put on clothes and water on the stove(which is portable and takes canisters that I believe are propane. It's pretty cool if you wanna cook food down at the beach in the summer). I start to make my daily breakfast. Two pieces of really good wheat bread with chunks of walnut incased, layered with chunky peanut butter and topped with honey. The water's finished boiling and I add a tea bag of Earl Grey, milk and a sugar cube. I sit and start alternating between bites of toast and sips of tea. I'm forgetting something...uhhh....BBC News. I get up and turn on the tube(I think my remotes with Osama). I sit back down and start fixating my mind on the millions of colored pixels and sound waves radiating from the speakers. "The divide between the West and Islam is growing wider over cartoon row." News footage. Clinched fists, burning flags, chanting, airborn rocks raining down on Embassy's... Over drawings??? I think when did things get this way? I mean everything. Priests molesting, little girls abucted, fury over drawings, lies about wars. When did lying about a blow job become a greater sin than using lies to persuade a nation to go to war? Where do we go from here? Can I, do I want to, should I, will I, raise kids in a world like this. Will things get better? After having these thoughts and watching a few Brits tell me of genocide, hunting accidents and Michelle Kwan pulling out of the Olympics I decide to turn of "the box", pick up my book and read a few pages. I'm reading "a Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. It's the book Oprah is shitting pink twinkies over. Bull shit or not I find it to be a most impressive book and I would recommend it to anyone over the age of 13 and not my grandmother. Pick it up if you have a chance. After reading for about a half hour it's time to get ready for work. Deodorant, vitamin, feed my hamster, fish and water my plant, clean my clothes off the floor, wash a few dishes, brush my teeth and shave. It's go time. 10:40am. As I walk out the front door and I am expecting a slight chill. I expected the worse, and I was quite surprised. It was warm. It may not be official yet but I think today was the start of Spring. I could care less if that rodent saw his shadow...out here there ain't any groundhogs.