Sigh.... A month ago my life wasn't boring. Today I'm stuck in slow motion, moving from one place to the next trying to get something completed but never actually starting.



Traveler's withdrawl.

If you've ever struggled to achieve your 15 minutes of fame, I think your looking in the wrong place. Children will worship you if you let them. I went to visit my sister's Grade 1/2 class to bring them their last postcard from Spain (they got one from each country that I visited on my trip) and show them some pictures. Children have this way of idolizing you even though they know nothing about you. They just want to hang out with you, crush cans with you, and play basketball with you. Then later on, the only thing they will remember is how tall you were.

May 1 2002: Some things in Amsterdam only the tourists do. It's funny how many people seem to make their way to the city just do drugs legally. What's the point? You can do these things at home anyway and probably have a better time than sit stoned in the lounge of a hostel or walk around sketched out.

The red light district is a dirty, interesting place. It runs along a canal crowded with tourists and dodgy dealers hawking their drug wares. The windows are filled with unattractive women who smile and wink at you, trying to drum business with their fake attention. The windows they peer through have beds in the background ready for the paying customers and lights that illuminate the prostitutes body in an unflattering manor. The customers leave the rooms quickly and veer down the closest ally possible, ashamed of what they have done or afraid to get caught. Japanese business men stand in pools outside the door deciding who is going to go in. The district is sketchy and seems unreal with little kids strolling the streets while strangers fuck behind closed curtains.

Apr 27 2002: When children are little they adopt culture quickly, which is why they pick up slang and accents so quickly. I am like that child. Today I went to Bath, England to check out the old sulphur smelling Roman Baths. A, B, C and I are sitting down to tea at the Pumphouse starting on dessert after finishing the finger sandwiches and scones with clotted cream. The waitress asks me if I want something, I reply "Yes, that would be" (insert long dramatic pause here) "lovely (with a minute english accent)".



The laughter was instantaneous and unavoidable. There was nothing I could do, my brain wouldn't pump out any other words. At least I'm taking in the culture.

How do they clean porta-potties? The only acceptable way I can think of is a conveyer belt solution. Any hands on approach would be way too nasty.

Another european travel tip has spilled out into my life. In my pack I rolled all my clothes because it took less space and kept them relatively wrinkle-free. Using this practice at home has allowed me to actually fit all my clothes in the drawers and find them again. Now I just have to teach my dresser to clean the dirty things I put into it.

A better description of what this site is, is little white lies. A black lie is telling something that is false whereas a white lie is not telling the whole truth. I tell white lies daily here. I'm always trying to find the right balance of information to give.

A few years back, I lived with my cousin for a couple of months and we have always stayed in touch. Her children are like having little siblings. When I get the opportunity to hang out there and beat up on them I do. Recently their dog passed away which I understand can be traumatic but I was disturbed by what they did with him. Buddy resides on the mantelpiece, in an urn that contains his ashes and a lock of hair.

One good thing about living in rural Canada is that it is super cheap to rent DVD's, especially on 2-4-1 Monday, Tuesday and Wednesdays, which coincidentally are days that only bums like me can watch videos.

For the last 3 years I have carried this misnomer that when I would go up and kneel before the University Chancellor, President or Vice President adn receive my degree that some pearl of wisdom would be bestowed up me. I was waiting patiently for my turn among the 500 or so graduands and when the time came I was disappointed. No transfer of wisdom occurred, only a shake of the hand, an utterance of good luck and a query of "Are you proud"?

A side effect of traveling is that you never really know which country your in. This is why I got a confused look when I said 'grazie' to the clerk at the photo store. It's not the first time, it took me a couple days to switch languages in each new country.

So I'm back, what can I say but that it is good right now and I am happy to be back, but don't be surprised if in a few weeks I wish I were in Europe again. Right now I feel like there are so many things to get used to (Canadian money, breakfast that doesn't include Nutella and a baguette of some form, not wearing my life on my back, not being with my travel mate 24/7) and so many things I've missed. There is so much to say about the trip it's going to be hard, what actually happened never really made it to the site.

You'll have to excuse me I'm not at my best,

I've been gone for 2 months and I've been drunk since I left.

These so called vacation will soon be my death,

I'm so sick from the drink I need home for a rest.



Spirit of the West.