Categotry Archives: General

on july 9th, i was coming down the stairs at the art hotel on my way to breakfast. cleverly, i determined early on in my relationships with both my shoes and these stairs that the three of us would never be friends, much like water sluices off the back of a nuala or a water-proof raincoat, so my shoes with these stairs. so, of course, i go down barefoot. but on this fateful morning, i could see that there were people in the breakfast room at the bottom of the stairs. wanting to not appear rude and calloused, i slipped my flip flops back on and determined to be very careful on the remaining 15 steps.

i took 1 step and fell the next 8.

the one person who saw me do it was a heavy metal grunge rocker from the netherlands. he said nothing. i said, ‘ow’.

four days later, i look like i’ve been beaten. a lot. with large slabs of marble. i try to look like i’m suffering so the other tourists will feel bad for me and call child protective services. my mom tried to convince me that i’m no longer a child. i claimed the Rubber-Glue Defense and she looked suitably chastized.

in addition to this rapidly purpling bruise the size of my hand, i received an additional injury on the 12th at the amalia hotel in delphi when performing a valiant pool rescue mission. my drowning victim elected to sting me rather than thank me. i haven’t been stung by a bee since i was in 6th grade and belonged to a pool with the mookerjees. i remember some of the other horrors of 6th grade– the sideways ponytail, the MC Hammer pants with gigantic pink flowers on them–but i can honestly say that i didn’t remember what it felt like to be stung by a bee. so i am no bitter towards all bees. and marble steps. and possibly heavy metal rockers.

two blocks up marnis street on the corner of 3rd septembriou a homeless man lives at the bus station. today coming back from omonia square to the art hotel at 27 marnis street, i walked past the man as he was tying up his pants. the urine smell was strong and getting stronger and so i glanced down and around and saw the liquid treadmarks left by a shoe which it was patently obvious had tread in the urine after the shoe wearer had finished making the treacherous puddle in the first place. the whole corner of marnis and 3rd septembriou will always be urine, a damp shoe print, and a man tying up his pants.

at a restaurant called “giraffe” because apparently it is the animal with the largest heart and they “love to live” or “eat” or offer you cheese on your chips.

there’s a drink called a “giddy giraffe” though it doesn’t appear to have any alcohol in it and it makes me think gimpy over giddy all the same.

and i am reminded of how bad the british bacon is and how intoxicating the scent of malt vinegar hitting chips warm from the frying.

last day of work! last day of work!

it’s pretty exciting. also sad. so far i’ve gotten a present. i haven’t opened it yet because i’m vaguely uncomfortable getting a present and it seems rude to open it. and it’s wrapped so pretty.

soon i’ll be having pizza party lunch. yum.

and then next tuesday i’ll be flying to greece. now that is a present i am looking forward to unwrapping. we’re staying in athens for 4 days, istanbul for 4, on crete for 5, on santorini for 6, and london for 3. i’ve booked all the hotels, one of the ferries, a show in london, and a day tour to delphi. there’s going to be shopping, eating, and looking at ruins. alongside some sunsets, swimming, and mucho amounts of tanning.

life in a cul-de-sac can be pretty dull. nothing much ever happens. no fast cars race up and down our street. cats aren’t flattened and their claws shredded off. people say hello and gift garden vegetables (adam’s currently working on 3 foot cucumbers to give away). you wash your car in the driveway, you keep up with the neighborhood gossip.

and then new neighbors move in and the nightmare commences. they have a dog. sure, he’s very friendly when you rescue him because you’re driving home and find him wandering loose halfway down the block. but he’s also a barker. a loud barker. at 3 AM. not as loud as the car alarm which takes every opportunity to go off in the wee hours of the morning when dawn is just breaking over the horizon and one is nowhere near contemplating arising.

the old neighbors, i also disliked in general, but these new neighbors are a breed apart. at least the old neighbors had been around since i was 3 years old. at least them i knew. one of the grandsons turned purple in my backyard after tying rope around his neck and the top of the slide and then going down. adam and i spent precious moments watching his face mottle before i ran to get my parents. another grandson who came every summer with his younger brother we adored and picked up texan accents from within a matter of days which we put to beneficial use playing cowboys. then there was the incident just last year with the great-granddaughter and the cat punk/J.C. i hated her, sure enough, but i like punk. adam was a pall-bearer at the grandfather’s funeral who died equidistant between my grandfather and my father. the point is that i had history with the former tenants. and now these new people with their dogs and their cars. this is going to take some getting used to.

On this bitter Wednesday in the Land of West Michele, a special proclamation is hereby issued declaring a general pinking of the core and a suspicious sticky leakage at the corners of the Land.

All neighboring lands are issued a warning to maintain their distance, particularly in the Ocular Region. The Land of West Michele issues a special notice to the Nation of Me to not, under any circumstances, lift the Nation of Me’s hug embargo.

The citizens of West Michele on the western side of the land under duress should perform interpretive prayer dances for Antibiotic Rain and the citizens on the eastern side should stay within their own borders and not get rowdy with those in the west. If this terrible affliction is to be contained, all citizens must follow these injunctions.

Hopefully, if all goes well, next Wednesday should see a distinct lifting of the miasma of bitterness–the pinkage dispersed and the viscous leaking curtailed.

All hail the Land of West Michele’s continued health! Long live Michele!

last night i had a small electrical fire. this occurred when trying to get onto my new twin size bed, because i’m back to being 10. upon attempting to pull out a light plug from the wall one of the prongs snapped off and fuzed into the plug in the socket below it–prompting a brief blaze, a stench of burned plastic and metal, and a horrifying tingling in my hand. at least it’s good to know that when i die, i can be easily replaced though.

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over a month ago when fuck-face (the cat) died and i was very sad, i found a condolence letter at my mom’s house from a neighbor kid down the street. which didn’t make me feel much better about fuck-face being dead or the state of grammar today in the land of california public schools, but it did allow me a small, sad laugh. i will now transcribe it here verbatim.

Austin (second signature in cursive)