I have recently turned the big 30. Here is a list of things I find fun, funny, or at the very least interesting I have learned since my baby hood.
To shoot a bow and arrow
Make bread
Speak in public
Organize a field trip
Speak other languages
Ride a horse
play backgammon
build websites
Drive a stick shift car
Play guitar and piano
Write an epic poem
Cook Mexican food
To overcome fears
Write a book
Live in another country
Travel efficiently
Enjoy the little things
To kiss
To Dance
To not watch television
What did you learn before you turned 30?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Italian Christmas
Some of our friends here in Barcelona have had the good sense to date Italian men with a penchant for cooking. They graciously invited us to come and spend Christmas with them. It was a two day event in which we went shopping in the open air market and subsequently cooked all of the food. Here is a picture of Sergio, the head cook holding triumphantly his octopus.
We cooked, chopped, fried, basted, salted and sauteed all day. By the time dinner actually rolled around we were all very hungry. Rana and I made 4 liters of sangria which was devoured and the rest of the group brought wine. The first course that came out was a cold vegetable salad.
As we ate that, the fish went into a deep bed of salt. It was completely surround by salt in fact. On top was a little shrimp. We also had a salmon, creme pasta with caviar and a number of other delicacies. It was a lot of fun. Here are some happy customers.
Then as the evening grew later silly began to kick in.
And we ended the evening with a tried and true christmas tradition, the group picture.
Well that's it for the Italian Christmas. It was great fun, and no one needed to eat again for a week!
We cooked, chopped, fried, basted, salted and sauteed all day. By the time dinner actually rolled around we were all very hungry. Rana and I made 4 liters of sangria which was devoured and the rest of the group brought wine. The first course that came out was a cold vegetable salad. 
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Barcelona Mugging Failure
So there I was in the middle of Barcelona, slightly inebriated, lost and for lack of a better term, proper fucked. Rana was going out with her friends and decided Devo had had too much to drink to make it to the club. Rana, of course, was right. I stumbled into the subway letting every thief from here to London know I was prime pray with my can't-quite-stand-still gait. I found refuge on the hard plastic seat of the underground and with head in hands, stole occasional upward glances at the lit up little subway map.
Now in a sober moment I would have known that I could transfer in one of the stations and easily make my way to the metro stop right by our house, thus avoiding further danger and exposing my incapacitated form to chicanery. Not the decision I made. So incapacitated was I, that all I could think about was the stop where we boarded the train, a full 15 minute walk from our normal stop.
Emerging from the stuffy relative safety of the subway station, I stupidly trudged onward through the main pickpocket hotbed in town. 3 in the morning was fast approaching and with it went the bussel of tourists and foreign students. The streets were quieter, populated with locals and immigrants. As I neared the street down which I was supposed to walk, a shout rang out in the cool air.
I still have no idea what he said but a moment later I felt a hand on my back. The hand I would later surmise was designed to distract me while the assailant tried to hook my ankle with his foot. What happened next defies logic but what the hell, I'll tell you anyway. I saw or felt the foot coming around my ankle and just kind of powered through it. Instinctively I stiff armed my attacker in the chest at the same time. The combine trip-reversal and the butt of my hand in his chest sent the man reeling backward as I yelled drunkenly, "No me tocas!" which translates to "who's laughing now, bitch?".
I never looked back.
Ten minutes later I arrived at the apartment and managed to get into bed. Meanwhile Rana and her friend had made it to the club and discovered they were charging and exorbitant cover fee. No dice, said the value conscious maidens and made for home where they would presumably be let in by a red-nosed jolly Devo. Not so.
Due to a bit of unfortunateness, our friend who was staying with at us had her bag stolen with our house keys in it the day before so we only had one set of keys, which I alone possessed because I was going home first. They began ringing the buzzer, which in my defense is über quiet, at around 5am. At 5:30 our kind Russian neighbors, who we had only met the day before, heard our buzzer, went out on the balcony, and thankfully let Rana and Basak in. Once they got to our door they were able to wake me up with a clever pounding/ ringing the doorbell ritual they'd worked out. Apparently I answered by buzzing them in the front door, which of course they already were in.
Morals?
Drink moderately, employ the stiffarm, and always have a spare set of keys.
Now in a sober moment I would have known that I could transfer in one of the stations and easily make my way to the metro stop right by our house, thus avoiding further danger and exposing my incapacitated form to chicanery. Not the decision I made. So incapacitated was I, that all I could think about was the stop where we boarded the train, a full 15 minute walk from our normal stop.
Emerging from the stuffy relative safety of the subway station, I stupidly trudged onward through the main pickpocket hotbed in town. 3 in the morning was fast approaching and with it went the bussel of tourists and foreign students. The streets were quieter, populated with locals and immigrants. As I neared the street down which I was supposed to walk, a shout rang out in the cool air.
I still have no idea what he said but a moment later I felt a hand on my back. The hand I would later surmise was designed to distract me while the assailant tried to hook my ankle with his foot. What happened next defies logic but what the hell, I'll tell you anyway. I saw or felt the foot coming around my ankle and just kind of powered through it. Instinctively I stiff armed my attacker in the chest at the same time. The combine trip-reversal and the butt of my hand in his chest sent the man reeling backward as I yelled drunkenly, "No me tocas!" which translates to "who's laughing now, bitch?".
I never looked back.
Ten minutes later I arrived at the apartment and managed to get into bed. Meanwhile Rana and her friend had made it to the club and discovered they were charging and exorbitant cover fee. No dice, said the value conscious maidens and made for home where they would presumably be let in by a red-nosed jolly Devo. Not so.
Due to a bit of unfortunateness, our friend who was staying with at us had her bag stolen with our house keys in it the day before so we only had one set of keys, which I alone possessed because I was going home first. They began ringing the buzzer, which in my defense is über quiet, at around 5am. At 5:30 our kind Russian neighbors, who we had only met the day before, heard our buzzer, went out on the balcony, and thankfully let Rana and Basak in. Once they got to our door they were able to wake me up with a clever pounding/ ringing the doorbell ritual they'd worked out. Apparently I answered by buzzing them in the front door, which of course they already were in.
Morals?
Drink moderately, employ the stiffarm, and always have a spare set of keys.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The Impromtu Thief
Tonight as we lay enjoying some sort of ill-begotten tv show or movie, we heard outside in the alley a tumultuous, clang, clang, clang. I sprang the the bed to see what was the matter. There was a dude in the alley who rose such a clatter.
There, standing in front of the gate of next door's shoe shop was a villain. Ok, not a villan but at least a petty thief, one who was apparently not terribly gifted when it came to planning. He had removed the cover of an electrical access panel in the alleyway and was using it to bash at the hardened steel lock which kept closed the gates in front of the shoe shop.
I stepped out on the balcony and saw him bring the awkward metal square down on the lock one last time sending metal shards and glass flying, but the lock held. Disappointed he replaced the cover and quickly walked away disappearing down an alley. Now when I say he was bad at planning, I meant it.
The would-be-thief was wearing bright white pants! Not exactly inconspicuous. I called the girls out on the balcony to see the aftermath of his attack. Just as we were heading back in, he appeared again. This time, presumably, to finish the job. I had my camera but decided since we are on the first floor and in the dead of night, the clicking of the shutter might give me away. Lets be honest, trying to do the right thing is great but if the thug discovered me he would know where I lived. So we, heroically, ducked inside.
The really funny thing is that he was trying to break into Rana's favorite shoe store. They very store where they have a expensive set of boots she wants. She was temped to yell, "steal me the green ones and we won't call the police," but I convinced her otherwise.
Once again, planning, buddy. What are you gonna do steal 100 pairs of shoes and try to hock them on the corner? I think it might arouse a little suspicion when you're caught with Manolos that aren't your size.
There, standing in front of the gate of next door's shoe shop was a villain. Ok, not a villan but at least a petty thief, one who was apparently not terribly gifted when it came to planning. He had removed the cover of an electrical access panel in the alleyway and was using it to bash at the hardened steel lock which kept closed the gates in front of the shoe shop.
I stepped out on the balcony and saw him bring the awkward metal square down on the lock one last time sending metal shards and glass flying, but the lock held. Disappointed he replaced the cover and quickly walked away disappearing down an alley. Now when I say he was bad at planning, I meant it.
The would-be-thief was wearing bright white pants! Not exactly inconspicuous. I called the girls out on the balcony to see the aftermath of his attack. Just as we were heading back in, he appeared again. This time, presumably, to finish the job. I had my camera but decided since we are on the first floor and in the dead of night, the clicking of the shutter might give me away. Lets be honest, trying to do the right thing is great but if the thug discovered me he would know where I lived. So we, heroically, ducked inside.
The really funny thing is that he was trying to break into Rana's favorite shoe store. They very store where they have a expensive set of boots she wants. She was temped to yell, "steal me the green ones and we won't call the police," but I convinced her otherwise.
Once again, planning, buddy. What are you gonna do steal 100 pairs of shoes and try to hock them on the corner? I think it might arouse a little suspicion when you're caught with Manolos that aren't your size.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
First Night in Barcelona and subsequent days
I arrived after a considerably long trip (41 hours), in Barcelona, on Halloween eve. I took the metro and met the lovely Rana and Başak. They took me back to their apartment and we immediately started to brainstorm costumes. This is what we came up with:
I checked out La Rambla where you can get
your bag stolen for half the price of a normal mugging.
The shoreline where you can take an expensive gondola
over the harbor so you just might find Nemo.
Along the Rambla del Mar. Ohhh pretty boats.
People feeding Seagulls near the Christoper Columbus monument.
My arty shot of the day. A local resturant
with the menu in Catalan.
So far I love it here. The people are wonderful. The food is fantastic (althought I make most of it at home) and the atmosphere is one of life, art and excitement. I would love to stay indefinitely.
The Gorge Reserve
After a whirlwind first 2 weeks in Australia, life slowed to a more manageable level. We ate, we sang, we drank copious amounts of mediocre beer. One weekend Tyler suggested we go visit some wildlife, and so we did.
The Gorge wildlife Reserve is where all Australian animals go to retire. It was a peaceful open zoo set up in the middle of the beautiful Adelaide hills. First thing was first, we went to hold a koala. Wee what fun. It was like having a really furry, stoned little child for 10 seconds. Here Tyler holds the little tyke who couldn't be happier. And here's me (notice the koala is unchanged):
After that earthshattering koala-holding moment we decided to browse around at the local fauna.
The redish game cock of Northern Checkistan:
The Gorge wildlife Reserve is where all Australian animals go to retire. It was a peaceful open zoo set up in the middle of the beautiful Adelaide hills. First thing was first, we went to hold a koala. Wee what fun. It was like having a really furry, stoned little child for 10 seconds. Here Tyler holds the little tyke who couldn't be happier. And here's me (notice the koala is unchanged):
The Pygmy Marmoset of somewhere interesting.
Here Pelican!
The koala on his day off.
Blue penguins of outer Mongolia
Steve and Earl
The biggest bats I have ever seen.
They are crazy...like a fox.
Prehistoric Cassowary. Dangerous and sweet looking.
A white peacock in flight.
Mom with Roo in pouch. Father looking on in the
background.
A crane.
Dingos. Cage strewn with babies.
Well that's about it for Australia. Tyler and I had a wonderful time in the rest of it but really none of it is fit for the internet. I loved the people, the animals and being so very far away from everything. I did not love the beer or the extreme price of alcohol but what do you do? It was a badass adventure on the sandy island in the southern hemisphere. Thanks Australia. On to Barcelona.
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