invented radler. A drink mix of beer and lemonade.
I've been here for two days, leaving for paris in 45 minutes.
We're staying here with one of Jo's best friends (Ryder) and his boyfriend (andrew).
We are taking real showers. grilling veggies and steaks. visiting science museums. drinking beer at beer gardens. geeking out about photos. cruising the streets. sewing up the crotch of my pants.
Munich is the beer drinking capital of the world.
There's not much else to do here, but I appreciate the break.
Staying in a real home for a few days= priceless.
Literally.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Praha
Allright. I'm an hour away from a train to Munich. So obviously, now is the time to type up about prague.
First morning I went to the castle (duh). But on the way Jo and I got distracted... by a TOY MUSEUM with a whole floor dedicated to barbie. I actually teared up at one point.
Random Fact: My common App essay was on barbie.
The castle was brilliant. The basilica was brilliant. Everything is old and humbling. New york will seem oddly modern after all this.
That night Jo realized she was running low on money. Our hostel lets you stay free if you perform, so I impromptou art-directed a burlesque act for her and she shook her moneymaker for her stay.
All glittered and pumped with adrenaline, we rushed out to meet prague nighltife- and were greeted with empty streets. Prague clubs are mostly underground (literally) and nobody has to go outside to smoke cigs.
Finally, we ran into a club playing drum and bass, but nobody was dancing. Un-deterred we socialized with the skater locals and drank shots of absinthe that had us giggling till 4 AM.
Absinthe is my new favorite drink, kids.
The next morning we did an easy breezy lunch at globe cafe, playing scrabble and soaking in the 2 dollar pilsner.
The night was unforgettable.
I went to cross club, a gadget- techy art club with a few dance floors, cafe, 2 bars. I saw The Prague Ska Conspiracy, getting free pins and beer from the trombone player and finally connecting to my first exposure to counter culture in prague. Jo left, and I was hell-bent on dancing more...
The downstairs turned into a jungle DJ and after the ska there was a Dub DJ. In New York, if I want to dance to jungle and see a Ska show I'd be running all over town with groups of people who probably never interact. This club has a mix of every subculture. Score.
Talked to some squat kid for a while, and thought it my time to amble home. The metro and trams stop running at 12, but there are nightrains. I just couldn't quite figure them out. I ask the first guys I hear speak english for help.
One thing leads to another and I end up in a paid cab ride to Bukowski bar down the street from my hostel with an expat who bought me a few drinks. Who was he? Only the owner of the hippst internet/cafe chain in prague: Bohemia Bagel.
Crazy.
Stumbled home and passed out.
Today (finally! backlog is done!)
Jo and I went to the communist museum, the aforementioned bohemia bagel where I ended up on a cute texan girl's fashion blog, and a park.
The grassy patch we picked might as well have had a label saying "Prague Official Napground." Our last destination was Tingl Tangl club, a drag queen cabaret which had a intermission dance party.
A few awkward run-ins with street drunks later, here I am. Putting pants on and getting ready for another train ride.
I'm sore. I want a shower. I need to do laundry. I think I've spent too much money. I need to figure out fuckin RAW files that are screwing with my upload process. My phone is dying.
I am alive though. And belly-full of stories.
First morning I went to the castle (duh). But on the way Jo and I got distracted... by a TOY MUSEUM with a whole floor dedicated to barbie. I actually teared up at one point.
Random Fact: My common App essay was on barbie.
The castle was brilliant. The basilica was brilliant. Everything is old and humbling. New york will seem oddly modern after all this.
That night Jo realized she was running low on money. Our hostel lets you stay free if you perform, so I impromptou art-directed a burlesque act for her and she shook her moneymaker for her stay.
All glittered and pumped with adrenaline, we rushed out to meet prague nighltife- and were greeted with empty streets. Prague clubs are mostly underground (literally) and nobody has to go outside to smoke cigs.
Finally, we ran into a club playing drum and bass, but nobody was dancing. Un-deterred we socialized with the skater locals and drank shots of absinthe that had us giggling till 4 AM.
Absinthe is my new favorite drink, kids.
The next morning we did an easy breezy lunch at globe cafe, playing scrabble and soaking in the 2 dollar pilsner.
The night was unforgettable.
I went to cross club, a gadget- techy art club with a few dance floors, cafe, 2 bars. I saw The Prague Ska Conspiracy, getting free pins and beer from the trombone player and finally connecting to my first exposure to counter culture in prague. Jo left, and I was hell-bent on dancing more...
The downstairs turned into a jungle DJ and after the ska there was a Dub DJ. In New York, if I want to dance to jungle and see a Ska show I'd be running all over town with groups of people who probably never interact. This club has a mix of every subculture. Score.
Talked to some squat kid for a while, and thought it my time to amble home. The metro and trams stop running at 12, but there are nightrains. I just couldn't quite figure them out. I ask the first guys I hear speak english for help.
One thing leads to another and I end up in a paid cab ride to Bukowski bar down the street from my hostel with an expat who bought me a few drinks. Who was he? Only the owner of the hippst internet/cafe chain in prague: Bohemia Bagel.
Crazy.
Stumbled home and passed out.
Today (finally! backlog is done!)
Jo and I went to the communist museum, the aforementioned bohemia bagel where I ended up on a cute texan girl's fashion blog, and a park.
The grassy patch we picked might as well have had a label saying "Prague Official Napground." Our last destination was Tingl Tangl club, a drag queen cabaret which had a intermission dance party.
A few awkward run-ins with street drunks later, here I am. Putting pants on and getting ready for another train ride.
I'm sore. I want a shower. I need to do laundry. I think I've spent too much money. I need to figure out fuckin RAW files that are screwing with my upload process. My phone is dying.
I am alive though. And belly-full of stories.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Absinthe drunk and typing
prague castle blew my mind. I want to upload pictures but my hostel wont allow it.
I just wanted to mention that I'm wearing purple glitter and listened to drum & Bass.
Quote of the day: "I'm a vegetarian for financial reasons."
I just wanted to mention that I'm wearing purple glitter and listened to drum & Bass.
Quote of the day: "I'm a vegetarian for financial reasons."
Berlin Es Stink
Yes, I'm in Praha and still writing about Berlin. Does that say anything to you?
I forgot to write about the Tajikistan tea house where I had canadian tea with whisky and maple syrup. It was on the first floor of a palace
I forgot to write about the vagabond german artisans we met who have to live off thier skills for at least 3 years and one day before returning home.
I forgot to write about wandering the streets with a bottle of cheap champange making jokes about raping in alleys.
But I've moved on, maybe
In the train yesterday I thought the sun was melting- dribbling yelow all over the fields. I listened to sufjan and got teary.
[ i fell in love again. all things go. all things go.]
I've been writing down ideas for projects, drinking tequila sunrises, and failing at writing a goddamn word.
Here is the heart of it: all of europe is praying in front of the world cup, while I am throwing hail mary's at the cracked sidewalks searching desperately for conversational salvation.
I leave you with this quote, from the map of prague I have:
"You must not mind that the poet is a drunk, just that every drunk is not a poet."
Oscar Wilde
I forgot to write about the Tajikistan tea house where I had canadian tea with whisky and maple syrup. It was on the first floor of a palace
I forgot to write about the vagabond german artisans we met who have to live off thier skills for at least 3 years and one day before returning home.
I forgot to write about wandering the streets with a bottle of cheap champange making jokes about raping in alleys.
But I've moved on, maybe
In the train yesterday I thought the sun was melting- dribbling yelow all over the fields. I listened to sufjan and got teary.
[ i fell in love again. all things go. all things go.]
I've been writing down ideas for projects, drinking tequila sunrises, and failing at writing a goddamn word.
Here is the heart of it: all of europe is praying in front of the world cup, while I am throwing hail mary's at the cracked sidewalks searching desperately for conversational salvation.
I leave you with this quote, from the map of prague I have:
"You must not mind that the poet is a drunk, just that every drunk is not a poet."
Oscar Wilde
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Berlin
Is New York in German.
I arrived just in time for fete de la musiq, a europe-wide festival celebrating free public music. Jo and I met up with some new school friends in a Park to watch a punk band called the Donots.
For the first time ever, I took pictures of a show instead of dancing the whole time. And I loved it. Trying to keep a camera safe in a mosh pit is no easy task.
There are so many paralells here. Walking around in Kruezburg, where I'm staying is like the village: crust punks, indian food, funky stores, falafel. I even ran into a few hoopers (who know my hula hooping friends in new york), a gay boy who used to live in bed-stuy with friends of a girl I used to date, and some fire spinners.
Just walking down the street is an adventure. It is light out till ten, and the sun comes up at 3 or 4. On a saturday night, everyone is out. I stumbled upon a queer postpunk show by the geffen 3, and drank berliner beer with hip looking strangers.
I ended up going out to a club called Panorama- on gay night. They almost didn't let us in because we weren't muscly men... but where else is there to go at 3AM?
Me + repetitive techno+ uppers+ sweaty gay men hitting on me + tired+ feeling sick=
me lonely and miserable at 6 AM crying by the hostel bathroom trying to puke.
The next morning was better.
Berlin wall, Flea Market, cheap brunch.
Then I went to a gay and lesbian awareness party in their equvalent to dupot circle, west village. Drank a glass of rose gaywine, met and took pictures of a few draq kings+ burlesque dancers, danced with a bunch of queer turkish women to arabic music. This was the first time queer culture and middle eastern culture have ever intersected for me.
the only other think to note is tacheles.
an art collective of the highest order, bars and galleries and studios.
Something similar to what I want to make.
Something similar to where I want to live.
I spend hours meandering and talking to artists.
I am more determined than ever to be an artist as a life calling.
Every time I see someone following thier passion, I know that they are my role models.
(more on this later...)
I have to catch a train to prague now. fuck.
I arrived just in time for fete de la musiq, a europe-wide festival celebrating free public music. Jo and I met up with some new school friends in a Park to watch a punk band called the Donots.
For the first time ever, I took pictures of a show instead of dancing the whole time. And I loved it. Trying to keep a camera safe in a mosh pit is no easy task.
There are so many paralells here. Walking around in Kruezburg, where I'm staying is like the village: crust punks, indian food, funky stores, falafel. I even ran into a few hoopers (who know my hula hooping friends in new york), a gay boy who used to live in bed-stuy with friends of a girl I used to date, and some fire spinners.
Just walking down the street is an adventure. It is light out till ten, and the sun comes up at 3 or 4. On a saturday night, everyone is out. I stumbled upon a queer postpunk show by the geffen 3, and drank berliner beer with hip looking strangers.
I ended up going out to a club called Panorama- on gay night. They almost didn't let us in because we weren't muscly men... but where else is there to go at 3AM?
Me + repetitive techno+ uppers+ sweaty gay men hitting on me + tired+ feeling sick=
me lonely and miserable at 6 AM crying by the hostel bathroom trying to puke.
The next morning was better.
Berlin wall, Flea Market, cheap brunch.
Then I went to a gay and lesbian awareness party in their equvalent to dupot circle, west village. Drank a glass of rose gaywine, met and took pictures of a few draq kings+ burlesque dancers, danced with a bunch of queer turkish women to arabic music. This was the first time queer culture and middle eastern culture have ever intersected for me.
the only other think to note is tacheles.
an art collective of the highest order, bars and galleries and studios.
Something similar to what I want to make.
Something similar to where I want to live.
I spend hours meandering and talking to artists.
I am more determined than ever to be an artist as a life calling.
Every time I see someone following thier passion, I know that they are my role models.
(more on this later...)
I have to catch a train to prague now. fuck.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
"I'm pro-rainbow"
woke up to a rainy morning.
The plan was to eat mushrooms (fresh! legal!) and see van goh.
After a slightly damp picnic of mushrooms, a joint, and iced tea-
The van goh museum. the brushstrokes. the waves of paint.
the textures. my eyes were swimming.
I admit, I don't know how many people were there. or how long it took.
I do know that immediately afterwards we headed to Vondel Park.
It is possibly the prettiest park ever.
Tripping in central park X 100.
twisting paths and tree roots and rainbows.
the sky cleared up in honor of our trip.
sun and green green green.
smoke haze by the pond and saunter out of the park.
we had a vegan woman from chiago help us find our dinner:
vegan homecooked squat dinner for three euro, with locally brewed beer.
After that, I had no energy to go out. Only to trudge back to the hostel and lay.
the next day was a nutella morning and a mozzerlla and tomato afternoon.
we saw some wierd play about torture, world press photos ( aka new life goal)
and bought black and blue S&M flag stickers.
Then a trin to Berlin.
Had a wine, sausage, cheese, baugette, space cake picnic (im really diggin the whole picnic thing)
in the brussles station on the way.
I am learning why some things are diffcult alone.
I am learning the true cost of things.
I am learning what kind of people I want to surround myself with.
I am learning to make myself talk to strangers.
I'm in a cafe in berlin, uploading pictures.
When it finishes, I'll run away again. Into a new city.
The plan was to eat mushrooms (fresh! legal!) and see van goh.
After a slightly damp picnic of mushrooms, a joint, and iced tea-
The van goh museum. the brushstrokes. the waves of paint.
the textures. my eyes were swimming.
I admit, I don't know how many people were there. or how long it took.
I do know that immediately afterwards we headed to Vondel Park.
It is possibly the prettiest park ever.
Tripping in central park X 100.
twisting paths and tree roots and rainbows.
the sky cleared up in honor of our trip.
sun and green green green.
smoke haze by the pond and saunter out of the park.
we had a vegan woman from chiago help us find our dinner:
vegan homecooked squat dinner for three euro, with locally brewed beer.
After that, I had no energy to go out. Only to trudge back to the hostel and lay.
the next day was a nutella morning and a mozzerlla and tomato afternoon.
we saw some wierd play about torture, world press photos ( aka new life goal)
and bought black and blue S&M flag stickers.
Then a trin to Berlin.
Had a wine, sausage, cheese, baugette, space cake picnic (im really diggin the whole picnic thing)
in the brussles station on the way.
I am learning why some things are diffcult alone.
I am learning the true cost of things.
I am learning what kind of people I want to surround myself with.
I am learning to make myself talk to strangers.
I'm in a cafe in berlin, uploading pictures.
When it finishes, I'll run away again. Into a new city.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
London Calling
It's been two days.
Its 4:30 AM here in Amsterdam, and I should be in bed but instead I'm typing to you on a keyboard with the letters worn off.
The flight out was delayed due to rain (thank you, JFK).
Watched the full monty. Made it to London.
The first thing to know about London is that the tube is the best. Beats DC. NY. San Fran.
Cushioned seats, quick times, and constant updates.
The second thing to know about London is that in Hyde Park is the most perfect Rose Garden.
I wish I could upload my pictures right now to show you, but I can't. Later. I Promise.
Camden Market was a massive St. Marks.
I took another picture for my attraction project.
Ate chicken, feta, and spinach sausages and mash.
Bought a small earring that looks like a key.
Discussed Hip-Hop and Hardcore with a stall owner.
Gave advice about Brooklyn to a guyanese rasta man.
In London, everyone isn't running around with thier IPOD all the time.
Took a huge overnight ferry to rotterdam, then a train to Amsterdam.
Had coffee and a perfect hash joint.
Took a tour of the Red Light District.
Finally learned the difference between Sativa and Indica.
Walked through a Marijuana garden.
Bought legal shrooms. Shroom tea. Cocoa Leaf candy.
Went out to club paradise, in a converted church.
Got Lost stoned (3 times).
Amsterdam is beautiful.
Every building, down to the micky d's is quaint.
The mall is practically a palace.
I am constantly crossing bridges. Moonlit bridges covered in bikes.
Let me tell you about late night ramblings:
I get followed by a truck, find myslef in an extention of the red light district.
Propositioned. Smirked at by the girls behind the glass.
They are 50 euro for 15 minutes.
I'm exhausted, but I miss you.
More will come. This was just my first attempt.
Its 4:30 AM here in Amsterdam, and I should be in bed but instead I'm typing to you on a keyboard with the letters worn off.
The flight out was delayed due to rain (thank you, JFK).
Watched the full monty. Made it to London.
The first thing to know about London is that the tube is the best. Beats DC. NY. San Fran.
Cushioned seats, quick times, and constant updates.
The second thing to know about London is that in Hyde Park is the most perfect Rose Garden.
I wish I could upload my pictures right now to show you, but I can't. Later. I Promise.
Camden Market was a massive St. Marks.
I took another picture for my attraction project.
Ate chicken, feta, and spinach sausages and mash.
Bought a small earring that looks like a key.
Discussed Hip-Hop and Hardcore with a stall owner.
Gave advice about Brooklyn to a guyanese rasta man.
In London, everyone isn't running around with thier IPOD all the time.
Took a huge overnight ferry to rotterdam, then a train to Amsterdam.
Had coffee and a perfect hash joint.
Took a tour of the Red Light District.
Finally learned the difference between Sativa and Indica.
Walked through a Marijuana garden.
Bought legal shrooms. Shroom tea. Cocoa Leaf candy.
Went out to club paradise, in a converted church.
Got Lost stoned (3 times).
Amsterdam is beautiful.
Every building, down to the micky d's is quaint.
The mall is practically a palace.
I am constantly crossing bridges. Moonlit bridges covered in bikes.
Let me tell you about late night ramblings:
I get followed by a truck, find myslef in an extention of the red light district.
Propositioned. Smirked at by the girls behind the glass.
They are 50 euro for 15 minutes.
I'm exhausted, but I miss you.
More will come. This was just my first attempt.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Secret
I'd like to think I'm going to europe to find myself.
Literally.
Posters of my ass, green socks, and chucks are all over europe. My ass has been to places I can't even afford to visit.
I'd like us to have a meeting abroad.
Guide Books + Master Plans
I have been dreaming of this since 10th grade.
Europe. 5 weeks. My own money.
Master plans of london layovers and amsterdam introductions. Plans of squat dinners and museum trips and lonely train rides and countryside picnics.
I came to New York a few days ago with just my backpack.
Homeless in my home-city.
Living off love and kindness, my large backpack and credit card.
I am practicing for the real trip.
I am getting on a plane so soon I am already imagining my foot falling asleep and swallowing hard to make my ears pop.
I can't imagine countries.
I can't imagine other languages.
Nothing is real and yet, I've never packed so lighltly.
I'm ill-prepared, unplanned, overthought, anxious.
You are there. In your house. Reading this.
None of this is real to you either.
Embracing the uncertain is a tricky sort of intimacy.
Europe. 5 weeks. My own money.
Master plans of london layovers and amsterdam introductions. Plans of squat dinners and museum trips and lonely train rides and countryside picnics.
I came to New York a few days ago with just my backpack.
Homeless in my home-city.
Living off love and kindness, my large backpack and credit card.
I am practicing for the real trip.
I am getting on a plane so soon I am already imagining my foot falling asleep and swallowing hard to make my ears pop.
I can't imagine countries.
I can't imagine other languages.
Nothing is real and yet, I've never packed so lighltly.
I'm ill-prepared, unplanned, overthought, anxious.
You are there. In your house. Reading this.
None of this is real to you either.
Embracing the uncertain is a tricky sort of intimacy.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
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