Drugstore Gaucho

An interesting spread of days. As we pick up the tale from the last leavings, we find myself having hung out with my female doppleganger and not having seen her dad's shop. Later that night, MB and I go to see a friend's band perform at a nearby bar called Palmer's. This was slightly funny. I shall reprint a portion of some reviews of this Palmer's establishment: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Palmer's Bar 4 star rating 27 reviews Rating Details Category: Dive Bars Wandered into this awesome dive bar... Palmer's is one of my favorite dive bars... Seems like a place for junkies and lowlifes to go... I was surprised to see the clientele switch gears at about 10:00 pm the last time I was here. It went from die hard locals to hipster college students... If you're looking for an unpretentious, awesome, eclectic dive bar... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I w...

I got up early this morning. Yes I did. At 9:30. For opera. Yes, that's right. Opera. Whoa. Me and my best bud MB ran off to the cinema to see a broadcast of Carmen. I was amazed at how many tunes from that work have penetrated popular culture. Blows my mind. Opera. Influential. Well. THEN I MET MY FEMALE SELF FROM COLLEGE THERE! AND WE WENT TO HER HOUSE! AND ATE DELICIOUS FOODS! I was hoping to see her dad's arms and armor producing workshop. I bet there's nothing quite like the sight of molten metal becoming a most awesome medieval weapon of destruction! LIKE A SWORD! But it didn't happen, maybe later this week. The weekend comes, what do I do?

Many many many thanks to my gracias host, L.K. for housing me far past the amount of time that I originally imagined I would have to take up space in her charming apartment. I will forever miss that playful shower of hers that tends to squirt me in the face when I thought I was giving in the final twist to turn off. Now I am quartered in my trombone bosom buddy M.B.'s house and the delicious scent of spaghetti wafts up my nostrils. Tomorrow, I will be visiting someone who I think must be living the dream. The foremost blacksmith of medieval arms and armor in my immediate circle, in Minneasota, the country, and possibly the world. That, at least, is the version of events told to me by his daughter, the only person in college that seemed to be as weird as me in college and therefore a kindred spirit. So, a double delight tomorrow. I was going to eat half a guinea pig today, but we failed to reserve that 24 hours in advance, so it can no longer be. What adventure waits? Follow my blog...

I sit in an apartment in uptown Minneapolis. From here, I have two plans. 1. Minneapolis --> Allentown --> Assorted East Coast Adventure --> The South --> Costa Rica --> Argentina/Brazil/Something like that Features: Mom, new friends and college friends, unseen parts of america, cumbia, trombone playing, reconnect with study abroad life Cons: Feels kind of old hat compared to option 2 OR 2. Minneapolis --> California --> Assorted West Coast Adventure --> Alaska? --> Japan? --> Silk Road --> Indian --> Turkey --> Europe/France? Features: sister, cousins, the unfamiliar west coast, effing alaska, motherfucking asia and great adventure, and exchange student friends. Cons: Likely to break the bank I ain't got much money in my bank account and I might be able to make a little money and learn a shit ton about Latin music on the first option. The second option would be awesome, but might be more of a see the world, get nothing but thoughts out of it ...

Yo, I'm in a coffee shop in Minnesota and planning the next phase of the adventure. To recap where I've been and what I've done since the last time I was writing in this blog, I returned to college and finished it. Graduated with a degree in Spanish I don't really care for, from an institution that I'm not really sure was right fore. Playground's where I spend most of my days, chillin out max, relaxin' all cool and wondering what on earth I need to be doing with my life now that I'm at the end the to-do list I received at the beginning of my education. I forestalled existential crisis by signing up to work at a summer camp to teach Spanish while I was still at school. I went pretty much directly from college to summer camp and found things to hilariously the same and others to be frighteningly reminiscent of my own camping experiences. Before my eyes played out the familiar drama of adolescence, far-removed in time but not in memory. It was strange to se...