Tag Archives: US

Pile of Stuff

Like myself, I hope you all got something you wanted this festivus.

I was pretty much satisfied meeting my 7 month old nephew, A-Ren, for the first time since his birth. Those big blue eyes make all my troubles melt away. I just lean towards him and make sounds, he responds with his own blend of clicking and chanting. Then his little paws reach out for me, until he quickly turns and buries his head into my sis’s shoulder like a human ostrich baby.

But just when you think you don’t need anything else… someone gets you a palette of maple syrup from one of these insane wholesale supermarkets. I hope they’ve got room on that Air Portugal flying tylenol… I needs me my syrup. And my books by Mo Rocca, John Stewart, and a collection of other radical revolutionaries. Not to mention my new CD’s; The Stars, Talib Kweli, and the Slackers. Yeehaww.. time to update my wishful list.

If you’re looking for last minute day-after-festivus gifts, I recommend a one-two-three punch. First, get How To Blog. Then add a pinch of Jamie’s artwork. And round it off with Grouphug.us ‘s book of confessions. If you don’t read grouphug, go look. As Mr. Winter of Discontent will tell you, it’s fantastic! (happy festivus Michael)

Oh and sometimes I can predict the future before it happens. YES its true. Just like that. I hate to say it, but regardless of tomorrow’s election, the average Ukrainian is fucked. Especially if you work in a mine. Or if you simply don’t work at all. It is good to be part of a cause, and to demonstrate or live in a tent city in the center of the city. It is awesome do hold up the finger and the ruling party and the corrupt bastards. It is even awesomer to look election officials in the eye and say this is bullshit! But friends… you’re in the Ukraine… where the world demands that you stay in a state of cold, bitterness, and declining economics. Hooray for freemarkets… hold you hands out and maybe it will trickle down from the east or west. Let’s all do the election boogie.

Today’s Sounds: The Stars – Nightsongs

The best moment

The front door just opened…. Im about to see my nephew…

Tribute to a lady

I’m jetlagged, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking of my baby… Ms.Thingk, who today left Amsterdam forever. In doing so, she leaves my daily life. No more wrapping at my chamber door… so lightly tapping… NEVERMORE.

When we first met I was manning the bridge of the fishtank, keeping the universe safe for internauts. She saw me blogging? and I looked at her and was hypnotized. I bla-bla-bla’d about weblogs and my addiction to them, the whole time thinking ? dam this girl is fun. And by fun I mean hot. And funny. Which I combine into fun. So naturally I wanted to work her into the blog… and take her around my city. Hence the invention of “this ol park.”

But little did I know, the girl I once referred to as “Kirstin Dunst’s Twin” would become my left-hand woman. Together we’d invade neighborhoods, rock street markets, and cruise the parties. Bicyclemark rules of engagement usually disallow any closeness with international one-semester types, but this one was beyond my control… we were fast friends. And even though she’d usually turn her attention to some dude at the party, and I’d run off flirting with some yummy gal, she was still the reason for the season. She made student life fun again, even for a no-longer-student, fishtank supervisor like myself.

And so today I picture her on the flight back to Holland… Michigan, rather somber having just left her beloved ‘Dam, and I miss her already. I’m sure she’s striking up conversation with the mysterious long haired heart-throb type sitting next to her, and little does he know what a lucky guy he is… to ever get the chance to meet THE Ms. Thingk.

Tonight, during my first meal in the people’s republic of New Jersey, I shall raise my glass in tribute to my darling… and say thank you. Thanks for gracing the pages of my blog and the days of my life for the last 5 months. Amsterdam will miss you. The University will suck without you. And I will lose a bit of zing in my bike peddling

But hey, we’ll always have the blogosphere!

Arrived all over myself

I landed smack dab on Newark today. Place of my birth. Land of hundreds of thousands of Portuguese, and their somewhat American offspring.

Dad was there, at the gate to greet me. Isn’t it weird how dads get shorter? I remember when my dad was the tallest man in the world. Now he’s shorter than me in a cute way. He even wore an old man hat to the airport, I felt like Colombo had come to pick me up.

I had to lie in customs. Fuck the immigration dept. Fascists with a god complex. Even though the guys I got were nice. At one point they asked me “so you’re student?” Rule #1 of talking to INS folk: KEEP IT SIMPLE. So of course I said “yes.” And then she asks “What school?” just as I was walking off. I stumbled, “actually in Lisbon.” Whatever the fuck that means.

If I could have my own world, there would be none of these bullshit borders and passports and whatnot. I hate seeing people panicking on the plain, worried that they will fill out their form wrong and be banished by the wizard of INS. I want to start a low budget airline that uses no security but offers super cheap flights with speedy check in times. We could call it AT YOUR OWN RISK AIR.

Home has changed a lot, details in the coming days. Mostly it involves the presence of baby equipment everywhere. My bed has been pushed into a corner in favor of a crib for the A-Ren who spends a few of his days sleeping in my room. Which is totally cool by me. Plus, I love that my old stuffed animals are among his own collection.

Hello NJ. it’s me. I just wanted to come see you for a few days. You look tired and used. Get some sleep.

Today’s Sounds: Mates of State – Team Boo

A Very Lisbon Day

Twas the eve before flying back to Jersey, and all through the nest, not a creature was stirring, ‘cept for that lizard that peeks his head in through the hole in the ceiling.

I tried to call audioblogger to do the deed, but no dice. Hence; no accented BM shouting “I HEART XTX” or “Tracy! Ttothe33! Word to ma Gramma!”, and no audio thank you to my favorite blogger of the Chicago area, for his product placement in his photo which appeared on Busblog. I guess I won’t be able to podcast until I’m states side. Which reminds me of my new desire for the world: broadband as a human right! YES! Right next to food, water, shelter, and expression. I’d like to be the first shallow blogger to put BROADBAND right there on the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. You don’t agree? Try using broadband for 4 years, and then going back to dial-up, it’s a crime against humanity. And I demand liberation world-wide.

Managed to spend the after noon with that infamous wordsmith J.P. We had a Mozambican lunch, just outside the castle walls (yes Lisbon has a nice big one), which hit the spot. The conversation was as colorful as ever, with JP only mentioning assassinating or torturing world leaders a handful of times. Turns out, JP lives next door to the Vatican mission/consulate thingy. If I were him, and maybe he did this already, I would keep my naked bum pressed against the glass as often as possible. I would also dress as Satan, ring their doorbell, and propose holding peace talks.

I?ve taken piles of photos, mostly of the Lisbon Metro which, in my experience, is amongst the coolest in the world. Some telemarketing whorebag tried to stop me on the street and ask me to sell my soul on her clipboard . She starts by walking alongside me and asking if I?m a student or employed, I answered in proper Portuguese, that I?m a tourist. She gave me the ?you’?re an asshole? look and said ?You?re a tourist and you?re Portuguese?? I stopped walking, opened my eyes wide and nodded ? ?That?s right sister!?

So the Portuguese fisherman and ministry of agriculture are on TV all fussy about the EU fishing policies. Apparently the EU decided not to protect certain waters, including lots of Portuguese waters, from overfishing. They made some relatively symbolic reductions in quotas, but all-in-all, it?ll be excessive fishing as usual in Portugal.

What gets me is how unsustainable these guys are. All they care about in the short term. Fish fish fish? doesn?t matter if Cod or Swordfish are on the verge of extinction, they just want to keep pretending the well will never go dry. Once again.. I hate this bullshit narrow-minded economic outlook.

Meanwhile in Amsterdam, Ms_thingk is selling everything.. and returning to Holland…. Michigan. Tune in ma?ana for my jetlagged tribute to her.

Today’s Sounds: RPL – Radio Paris Lisboa (it’s in Portuguese and French!)

Time Warp

Being the good Samaritan that I am? I traded my window seat to the mom who wanted to sit next to her cute little girl. In exchange, as usual, I got to sit next to the alcoholic and the neurotic. He came on to the plane smelling like beer, and he didn?t let a flight attendant walk by without asking for another. She was constantly taking off and putting on layers, and picking at the pathetic egg-sandwich thing that is supposed to pass for Portuguese-cuisine. I kept thinking of Jamie and his friend Brian, taking the Thalys to Paris, hoping to sit next to models or moviestars.

The only consolation was that I messed with their damaged minds? I arrived first, and began reading my French weekly newspaper. Soon after I switched to reading Bukowski (in English), and spoke to the passenger behind me in Dutch. The lush seemed really eager to classify me? possibly Dutch? or maybe Belgian because of the French language item. I really threw him for a drunken loop when I spoke to the flight crew in Portuguese, and then asked for the best Portuguese newspaper of all time. Oh he wanted to start a conversation? so he could put me a little box, like the neurotic lady to my left. But I wouldn’t say more than two words in any language to that sloppy bastard. And fuck? can they put economy class seats ANY closer together?

One final air travel note, my horn traveled first class to Lisbon. We?re all packed in like sardines, while there is practically NO ONE in first class, but that never matters does it? When I did my usual: ask female flight attendants in a na?ve manner where they can stow my horn? then bat eyelashes and be very polite; they seemed quite puzzled. So? they buckled my baby into first class. I was proud! We lemmings may not be allowed to sit up there, but my horn didn?t pay a dime, and got drunk on champaign and caviar. DAM THE MAN.

So here I sit on top of the world, in my apartment that has always been affectionately called ?the Nest?.. because it?s made of twigs, is almost destroyed by heavy winds, and sits above the Tagus river.. where I can watch the sun set. Lisbon is just as I left it? full of classic urban ironies. My neighbors barely recognize me, probably because they?re all pushing 90. The only person my age, cutey working-student girl downstairs, seemed shocked to see me? almost as if I had ruined her secret plan to marry me by moving to the ‘dam. That would have been nice, we?d then have a two floor apartment and a building full of geriatrics, on the verge of collapse.

One last thing, speaking of collapse, there’s no government here in Portugal. That’s right… the government resigned, claiming that it couldn’t go on after all the political infighting and governing mistakes they had made. I find this to be a beautiful thing, and an admirable tradition in many countries. Now, if only a certain spoiled rich-boy president, who bumbled his nation’s finances, education system, civil rights, foreign policy… you name it… why can’t American presidents ever throw in the towel anymore? Suddenly I miss Nixon!?

Today’s Sounds: The Roots – Tipping Point