people!

yes, these are three of my lovely roommates. Greg is the only other guy, nneka has pizza again, and ann-valerie let us play with her hair again.

this is a good group we've got going.

my birthday.

yes, the third was my birthday. i was a bit close-lipped about all of it, so sorry if i didnt give anyone a heads up. so, some of you (especially my lovely mother) would like to know what i did, right? well, this is supposed to be a very important age, and so i will give you an entire run down.

however, you will have to wait. i am headed to sevilla in an hour and a half. that is right, i am hopping a bus south into warmer weather.

this is where sevilla is:

http://maps.google.com/maps?client=safari&rls=en-us&q=sevilla&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&split=0&ei=hFOwSbmYGOLEjAe23Y3PBQ&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&resnum=1&ct=image

i am leaving from madrid, and the ride will be several hours. i return on sunday, and at that point, i will give you guys a run down. ok? bueno. mother, i love you.

Anicia

Today, I get the impression that you are a pretty pivotal part of my blog audience. How often do you read this, nitzche? and yes, i just called you nitzsche.

and who saw erin's post about wanting to just come to spain? i did. wazzup america! bam!

song of the open road

it's been a while since i lived in san luis obispo.. and i wont be back for a couple more years. moving can wear you down at times. whitman is my boy.

You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all 
that is here, 
I believe that much unseen is also here. 

Here the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor denial, 
The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas'd, the 
illiterate person, are not denied; 
The birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar's tramp, the 
drunkard's stagger, the laughing party of mechanics, 
The escaped youth, the rich person's carriage, the fop, the eloping couple, 
The early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into the 
town, the return back from the town, 
They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted, 
None but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me.

winners drink alcohol.

This is my bottle of alcohol.. and that is my winning stare.

continuation of of confession...

as long as i can half-way pretend that these two stories can be related to thievery confession...

1) i've managed to recruit 5 NYU students to play "Age of Empires" with me on the internet. a housemate downloaded the spanish version, we spread it around... and now world domination will begin.

2) a brazilean gave me a whole unopened bottle of hard liquor yesterday. our eyes met on the metro... the classic spanish staring duel ensued (it's all the rave here; i stare people down on the metro every day). after several minutes, he approached and gave me the hard liquor. it now sits upon my armoir in the attitude of a trophy. 

origens.

for the sake of clarification, and a tinge of catholic guilt.. i admit that every picture on my blog has been stolen from somebody else. all of em.

immature poets imitate. mature poets steal. - ts eliot