Badly Injured Man Not Done Partying Yet

BATON ROUGE, LA—Veteran partier Adam Girard was seen pedaling down the street on a neighbor's bicycle, yelling that he going swimming and that his collarbone was fine.

Why

There are certainly a wide array of reasons for writing. I know I have many and I feel it necessary to often remind myself (really, who reads this but me?) of these reasons. So, self, listen closely.

You write because communication is an essential characteristic of humanity and since you are often curt while speaking you must write in order to fully express yourself. What is said can never be unsaid, but what is written can always be edited or erased. Even after I post this entry I can simply go delete it if I wish. I have total control. No one talks back when I write. My own mind may tell me, "that's stupid don't say that." After all, my mind's got a mind of it's own. And writing to yourself is not as crazy as talking to yourself. Or is it? Maybe that will be the next poll question.

You also write to sustain your creativity. Without work or school you find yourself reading a great deal and your mind drowns itself daily in a sea of ideas. Without taking the time to write what you think your thoughts will be washed ashore, forever beached. Writing does something to you that you cannot quite explain, but other people who toil over the structure of a single sentence or agonize over an essay's organization know how you feel. The process of choosing that perfect way to say something is never finished. Ultimately, a writer always settles for the least disgusting.

There are also the platitudes of writers. Perhaps my words will be read by some future generation. Perhaps the scrawling found in my journal will touch someone in a profound manner someday. Perhaps today. In the end, you write for yourself; for you own well-being. You either have some sick obsession with self-inflicted agony or you use it as a nepenthe. Perhaps both.

Last night

Did you see Radiohead on Conan?

Cruzin' the Coast

Last week John (not cool enough to have his own blog) and I (cool) took a road trip up the western coast of California. I picked him up from LAX and we hung with our friends Mike, Jodi, Purdy, and their friends the night before heading north. We hit the road with nothing more than a day planned. Our first stop was Santa Barbara.

We drove into town windows down, elbows out in our minivan rental - fucking brakes. We thoroughly explored the area and our first destination was UCSB. Can someone please inform me as to why the campus is so removed from the town? We were informed that most college kids just hang out near their college, but we saw nothing of interest there. We continued driving and saw some nice scenery, over-priced homes, and pretentious people. We decided to stay and check out the night scene. We enjoyed the Cardinals stomping the Giants over some beers and unimaginative food. Then, we went to the seediest bar we could find and it was everything but. This spurious bar reminded us of Eastside Tavern in Columbia, Missouri. It turned out to be karaoke night and I belted out some CCR. Besides PBR in the can, the place was lame. We did meet a cool couple from Germany and hung out with them the whole night. Is it ironic that the out-of-towners wanted to hang out with one another rather than the locals? We slept in the back of the van and proceeded north the next morning.

The drive up the central coast was truly majestic. If you ever get the chance to drive along the Pacific Coast Highway, do it. When mountains meet the ocean the scenery becomes unpredictable. Every turn reveals something new. Cliffs, forests, beaches, mountains, and valleys come together in a splendorous display. The next stop was Santa Cruz.

I absolutely loved this little city. The combination of a college town and a beach community gave it a mellow feel. The UCSC campus was incredible and certainly the prettiest campus I've ever seen. We decided to stay in Santa Cruz for the night. We hit up a few bars after searching for about an hour. The bar we found was actually pretty cool. We would've liked to see more options though. Again, we slept in our spacious minivan. Next stop, Frisco.

Maybe it was the fact that we did not know anybody that could show us the city, but I was expecting San Francisco to blow me away. First, parking was an absolute bitch and we were incredibly lucky when we found a spot directly outside The Adelaide Hostel. If you want a great deal for a great hostel stay here. It was one of the cleanest I've ever stayed in and the staff was pretty cool. The morning coffee could've been better, but for $25/night I wasn't complaining. The night prior we went to Vesuvio, which was also pretty cool except for our waitress who seemed like she was having the worst day of her wretched life. I'm not giving up on Frisco, but my first impression wasn't that great.

The next day we headed back south and were demystified by California's central valley. San Jose was uneventful and sterile and please someone tell me why would anyone live in Bakersfield? The entire city made me cringe. So we ended up back in Santa Monica on Monday night. All in all, it was definitely fun. I was surprised by how much I liked Santa Cruz and how uninteresting San Fran was. Sleeping in the van was better than it sounds, but our collective body odor needed remedy. Another experience I'll value just as I value all experiences as opportunities to learn about life and the world I inhabit. If we don't explore how will we ever know that where we are is where we are supposed to be?

You simply root against them

The most obnoxious fans in baseball.

Coffee in China

If you know anything about the Chinese culture you probably know that the people drink tea and not much coffee. To say that you were simply drinking tea is insignificant. The Chinese make a point to describe it as having tea, which is a wonderful experience that seems like an environmental worship ceremony. They constantly remind you to smell the aroma of earth, feel the warmth of the clay cup in your hands, and by consuming the tea you're tasting earth, fire, and water.

I thoroughly enjoyed my experiences having tea in China, however, I have had a long-standing love affair with coffee. Anyone addicted to coffee knows that only coffee can slake the craving. Knowing that I might have trouble locating a coffee shop I brought some ground beans along. However, I forgot to bring a French press. What follows is the process I went through to make my daily dosage.





First, you'll need to consume a canned beverage.







Following consumption,
flip can and insert approximately seven,
needle-sized holes in the shape of a circle.
Rinse can thoroughly.

Third, apply favorite team's can coolie
which doubles as a can-stays-warm.
If favorite team is not pictured,
how do you live with yourself?

Next, cut a small square from paper towel.

Place square in tea leaf strainer.

Square assumes role of coffee filter.








Add ground coffee to makeshift coffee filter.

Place filter inside tea maker.
Poor hot water into can's mouth.
Watch water begin saturating grounds.
Marvel at my ingenuity as your coffee materializes.
Enjoy you're high octane beverage.

This is only one way to make coffee in lands afar. You might have another, more efficient way to make it. If so, speak up. Also, if you have other incredible ways of making beverages or foods at home or in distant lands please attach a link or add a post.

Welcome

Greetings fellow iconoclasts, agitators, and wayward travelers ... travelers only has one L, huh. I thought it had two. If I just learned that from typing in this helpful, spell-check equipped text box, imagine all you'll learn just by continuing to read. Read this blog, and all your wildest dreams will come true.