Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I don't know what Italy has in store for me, but if Lucca's anything like Dallas, you can expect tales of intrigue and back-stabbing when I return. Only, instead of oil, the backdrop for the scandal will be... wait for it... olive oil!


The past week was spent on scrambling for last-minute things, like travel-size shaving cream and, you know, luggage. I realized that my "big" suitcase is a duffel bag with an enormous tear in the side. I could be mad, but it lasted me five years and, considering I bought it in what was essentially a closet with "going out of business prices every day!", I'd say we had a good run, me and that suitcase. So on Sunday I bought a totally hardcore duffel bag that could eat my old bag as a midnight snack.

I realized today that, at two weeks, this may be the longest vacation I ever get to take. It's definitely the longest one I've ever had, unless I count unemployment, which I probably shouldn't. The trip, should you be curious, will most likely be divided into the following categories:

1.) One/two day trips to cities and towns (including Venice, Florence, and Pisa)

2.) Mass Consumption of wine, fish, pasta, gelatto, garlic

I'll post pictures when we get back. In the meantime, here's where we'll be staying, as presented by Google Image Search.


*actual size may vary

Thursday, September 07, 2006

We all Have Dreams

Lately, I've had some really vivid dreams. Last week I dreamt someone wanted me to buy them drugs from a "drug house" in Pasadena, which basically meant it was an old Victorian house with a big porch on a hill. I drove up to the curb in a minivan and two guys ran out of the house to my window. They asked me what I wanted, but I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get. I said "... weed?", and handed them the money. They ran back in and back out and brought me three giant cookies. I ate one and got really, really high. Then, as if in a movie, the dream cut to The Grove, a day later. I was standing outside Nordstrom's and still high. Believe it or not, none of this resembles anything that's ever actually happened to me.

Last night I dreamt I was in a college English class taught by David Cross. He was a mix of real David Cross and this David Cross. Then he lead our class to a lecture in a cafeteria, which I strayed away from because Fugazi was playing about fifty feet away. They played behind the small, narrow cafeteria windows where you place your order. I got into a conversation with Ian Mackaye, and the next thing I knew I was driving around with the whole band in a van, somewhere in Wisconsin. We were looking for a movie theatre, but all we could find were Outback Steakhouses. Then I woke up. The rest of the night was really restless.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Breaking Even for Culture
I have seen the snakes movie, and I am happy to report that it lived up to my terrifically bad expectations. It even had shameless Red Bull product placement. I know at this point -- post hype, post poor box office -- it's not as "cool" any more. But I submit this: it is!

When we got home Saturday night, Fatso, Texaken, and a belligerantly drunk yet surprisingly loud Tom, stayed up flipping back and forth between Vacation, for which we had the uncanny and not-at-all-annoying-to-anyone-else knack of quoting five lines ahead of the script, and the Sci-Fi Networks original, Sabre Tooth. Sabre Tooth was about a sabre tooth tiger that went all mad crazy on some campers or scientists or something. It made a nice companion piece for SOAP.

Yesterday I tried to redeem myself by watching part 2 of Spike Lee's Katrina documentary. It was really great. I don't know why, but I have an allergy to Important filmmakers who tackle delicate social issues, but Spike Lee was the perfect guy for this. He doesn't pretend to be impartial (Bush and national government in general rightfully get most of the blame), but he pretty much lets the images of destruction, poverty, and wrecked lives speak for themselves in a voice that's similar to his own -- pissed off and sometimes satirical.

And then, when it was over, I watched Better off Dead for the zillionth time.

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