| | I know it's been a long time since I posted anything on livejournal; so long so that who can really say when the last time actually was (though no one can say, I'm sure a few mouse clicks could most definately shed light on this particular mystery). I feel as though that in itself is sufficient reason to justify this post. Everything is going well in my life; so well in fact that it'd probably be a matter of self-preservation to start wondering when things were going to begin their subtle (or not so subtle) decline. Suzy was in town this past weekend, though only for two days, really. It was very nice to see her, and nicer still to hear that'd she'd be back in our fair city within two months time. Friday also marked a reunion with the prodical son himself, Fat David, at Sports Grill, where we celebrated Suzy. For those who don't know, Fat David's been working in the Bahamas for a while now, and the majority of cryptic messages alluding to his return (all in fact), have proved false. Sunday was the Herald Hunt, and if you don't know what that is, do yourself a favor and look it up. My crack team of aces was comprised of Kasi, now a three year vetern, and the beautiful but inexperienced duo of David R. and Gaby as well as myself, their stawart leader; a leader made in the vein of Captain Murphy or say, Hook. Or none of those, and a better example inserted here: _________________ | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment   |
| I just got a new phone,so don't have a lot of numbers in it (I think i'm actually up to around seven). If you feel as though I should have your number, please reply with it. Thanks,
Chris | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | It's been well over a year since I last posted on my livejournal, and I'm not sure if that's a reflection on myself or on livejournal. Either way, here I am. Tomorrow is Luis' bachelor party, and I can honestly say I look forward to the writhing form of strippers girating on my body. If they also find it in their hearts to girate on Luis' slightly fatter body, all the better, but I, and everyone else who may read this, know what I'm looking forward to. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I've decided it's time to update my journal again, but since it's been so long, I don't know exactly where to begin. Being as such, I thought I'd just respond to my last post and update the world at large as to the progress of my many, largely wasteful endevours:
I finished my paper, at a whopping total of twenty-seven papers and decided against a powerpoint presentation, mainly because I got lazy. Thanks to the fact that I waited to be the second to last speaker, the clock was already dead, and I only had to speak for around ten to fifteen minutes, though I could have easily done another twenty. My professor two me an email telling me how good my paper was, but that I still owed him a paper on two medieval biographies of Charlemagne (which I have since done and turned in), or I would recieve an incomplete in the class. I'd counted on just getting an F on that paper and still passing, so I don't know that the incomplete was really a blessing.
I watched only one episode of Miami Ink the day before yesterday and wanted to get a tattoo. I am fully aware that I don't actually like tattoos. The Key Lime wine ended up being "the best I've ever tasted," according to more than one person, and my dad drank all the sweet potatoe/corn wine, calling me after a glass one day sounding slightly drunk to tell me how strong it was. The Irish Stout is done, and fuckin' great.
I still love my Aunt Patty, Uncle Chris and younger cousin's.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I'm not feeling great about it, rather feeling rather old.
| | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| It's been awhile since I've written anything, so I decided now was the right time, lest I risk my captive audience's subtle transition into an impatient one. A lot has happened recently, and it's my feeling that this is something of a transitional period.
Yesterday I went on an 'adventure' downtown with Susy, accompanying her while she turned in her marriage license. To celebrate her now being legally married, we walked the couple of blocks to Bayfront park and then had a late lunch at Bubba Gump's in Bayside. From there it was drinks at the Daiquiris Place and the Other Daiquiri Place, and sips and cigarettes next to the shore (just as a curve on my full-of-shitness, I'll point out it was the shore of the Port of Miami, so it wasn't that scenic). It was nice to get to spend the day with her, especially since it'd been over a week since the last time we'd chilled, and that's unacceptably long.
Work on my prolific paper goes well, and I've rounded out around twenty-one pages, meaning that I have tomorrow and the next day to do the final four as well as another three page paper, and the notes (or alternately a Power Point presentation) for the actual presentation I have to do Thursday afternoon. Twenty minutes on the historiography of Neville Chamberlain sounds like a lot, but I think I'm well enough prepared, and besides, can count on reminding myself that I am the foremost authority on this subject... in the class. This last week, the veritable last minute, I decided to change my thesis entirely, though not dramatically, and ended up with what I now feel is a stronger paper.
I feel like a woman, based solely on the amount of times I've typed the word, "feel". Who honestly gives a fuck what I feel?
Some times it scares me just how compulsive I am. I watched three episodes of Miami Ink in a row tonight, and swore I wanted to get a tattoo. Other compulsive trips in the near past have resulted in me getting ready to once again brew a batch of beer. This time it's an Irish Stout (Guinness), making a gallon of Key Lime wine, making a gallon of Sweet Potatoe/Corn wine, and ordering the ingredients necessary to make five gallons of real wine to give to everyone for Christmas and save myself the trouble of thinking.
Anyway, I hope the world is well enough, I certainly am. Lately I've been feeling (here we go again) more and more as though I'm the happiest I've been in quite a while, and that's definitely refreshing. My Aunt Patty, Uncle Chris, and two younger, boy cousins are in town till next Saturday, and I absolutely love them. Wheels are in motion to have me cook for the whole family (13 to 15 heads) on Friday, and I already have the menu ; ) | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| | Current Music: | Nada Surf - The Weight is the Gift | | Time: | 02:28 am | | Current Mood: | ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/smile.gif) good |
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| I only just realized that I'd never actually gotten around to downloading and listening to the new Nada Surf album (which was produced by the guy from Death Cab, who also produced the Decemberist album) that came out last year, which is a pretty sad state of affairs, considering they are my self avered (or avowed; I'll leave this one to you) favorite band. So, that's what I'm in the process of doing tonight. I picked out one of the seven books David stole from Barnes and Nobles last week as the one I'd like to read, only to lose it in my room, find it tonight after some half-assed searching and a few moments of brilliant luck, and then discover one page into it that I've already read this particular book. As for the music, it seems good; they are still doing the same thing they've been doing for a while, only now injected with more of a "Love is good, hate only hurts us" hippie message. As I write this, the singer is singing, "I try not to think of you," which in my personal case transforms into, "I try not to think of you taking this too seriously."
These last three weeks have really proven that 2006 has a lot of store-up-potential-energy and I've begun writing poems again, after a year or so of not doing so. Today is also St. Patrick's Day, and popular wisdom holds that I'm Irish, even though the truth is I'm only maybe a fifth, and far more Cuban, but lets pretend for just one more night so we don't have to be cold (or face the dark alone? how far do we really want to take this? I can go on forever). It's also Valerie's birthday, which she always avowed as a sign of us being meant for each other. Her, born on the only Irish holiday celebrated in the US. Me, Irish (or at least a fifth). "All is a Game," is a good song, though "Blonde on Blonde," from the last album is still my favorite Nada Surf song. The title, "Blonde on Blonde," refers to the lyrics of the song, in which the singer says that Bob Dylan's album by that name is playing on his portable stereo. I like that a song does this, as my poetry teacher, during one of our hour long meetings every other week (I had Independent Study) in which we'd hardly talk about poetry at all, told me that a cheap trick is to mention what music is playing during your poem, as it adds a whole 'nother sense to the dynamic.
Untitled
for Janelle
I like Nada Surf
Nada Surf like I
Like Nada Surf I?
Love Me Surf Nada | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I would like to preface this by saying that a college eduction, rather than stack me full of facts, has in fact, given me the ability to justify things in the most miraculous ways.
On my car ride home today I was listening to the usually off-the-wall AM radio show, "Coast to Coast," and they were discussing an alternate theory to the 'Standard Theory' of Planetary formation as first proposed by a relatively unknown Nazi scientist, and it seemed to me, weather true or false, that this was just playing into the inate Anglo-American desire to lionize (and vindicate in this literary tradition) off-beat Nazi's as seen with Erwin Rommel. Fatal loyalty to a sinking ship and lost causes are so often canonized as to lead me to question there worth. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Yesterday would have been my mother’s forty-ninth birthday and I didn’t even realize until just now. This in itself has rather predictably sparked some ambivalence in me, at least in part because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t so much a failure on my part to remember her birthday (though in all honesty this isn’t entirely true), as a failure to know the date (something which I’ve been having a lifelong struggle with). | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Let's make a list:
1) I love life more than anything else.
2) I don't think I can make it clear just how much I really enjoy cooking.
3) I started writing a samba today, because, you know, I'm mad Brazilian (on the inside).
4) Of Montreal was great, but my newly discovered dance moves were better.
5) If only because I took something I was bad at and converted it into something I am good at (and yes, you can ask me the specifics, but only on an individual basis).
6) I'm renting a tux for Susy's wedding, because that's how I roll, and I planted the suggestion that we should all rend a limo together to really "roll" there in style. I used the word "planted" not so much to suggest that I was trying to trick anyone into it, so much as to suggest that I bought some seeds at the nursury, fertilized the soil, dug little holes, and went completely insane.
7) Mra, Claire.
8) I went to Christina's house last night, had a great time, and rediscovered that I am in love with Rosanna Arquette (a fact I've known since "Desperatly Seeking Susanne", but have more recently forgotten). And this was the whole reason I started a livejournal post in the first place, I just forgot, and now, having remembered, am done. | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
| Yesterday I had a really good Valentine's Day. I was awaken by Nat knocking on my window with a balloon and one and a half cookies (because the other half hadn't survived the short drive from MDCC to my house across Killian). In the moment between sleep and consciousness when I first heard the knock, I freaked out and wondered what Valerie was doing at my house, since this was always a prefered method of her to wake me. Random acts of kindness have a much stronger effect that they are sometimes given credit for, though she later claimed it wasn't a selfless act, but rather a means by which she sought to bribe herself into my house and watch TV. We switched between Jerry Springer and the View for about an hour.
I then sat around for a little before heading to CVS and the liquor store to begin (and complete) construction of little gift bags as Valentine's day gifts for all my favorite girls. Since Susy was home, I then dropped off the first such bag and helped her register her new digital camera. I then had lunch at my grandparent's, and drove to David's house to meet up with Carlose, David and Nat. Since none of the boys involved were doing anything special to celebrate Valentine's Day we decided on throwing a small bar-b-q later that night at 'Cesca's house and went to BJ's to buy three and a half pounds of skirt steak, and a twenty-four pack of beers. Preparation began for the cookie later, and the meat was left marinating while David and I went to my house to have some drinks, and make fun of my father for flirting with the neighbor whom I also find to be very attractive (it must be genetic).
The bar-b-q went off well, and the eventual guest list featured: Greg, Susy, Robert Marquetti, 'Cesca, Allen, Carlos, David, Michelle Gomez and myself.
And finally, since both Claire and Rob (and that's not in chronological order) tagged me, I'll draw two conclusions: a) I'm very popular and b) Because of that I now have to list not seven, but fourteen songs.
Group 1:
1) Decemberists - A Cautionary Song
2) Decemberists - The Legionnaire's Lament
3) Cure - Just Like Heaven
4) Talking Heads - Once in a Lifetime
5) Sonic Youth - Diamond Sea
6) Pink Floyd - Breathe
7) Pink Floyd - Brain Damage/Eclipse
Group 2:
1) Nelly - Grillz
2) Kelly Clarkson - Because of you
3) Young Jeezy - Soul Survivor
4) The Game - Hate it of Love it
5) Lauryn Hill - Doo Wop
6) Joy Division (because of the new movie coming out) - Love will tear us apart
7) Pras - Ghetto Supastar
Anyone who hasn't been tagged, and is wondering why no one loves them, consider yourself now tagged. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| WARNING: IF YOU DON'T KNOW THAT I'M A HUGE NERD (or even doubt the fact), PLEASE SAVE YOURSELF THE EMBARSMENT OF FINDING OUT AND DON'T CONTINUE READING. THANKS.
As of yet, this weekend seems predominantly dedicated to me reacquainting myself with the Chris Fraga of my youth. I used to come home for school (for as far back as I can remember) and do projects. Initially, these were sponsored by my aunt Carmen for Ver and I (since we're only a little over a year apart in age), but eventually as I got older, they evolved into me going into my grandparent's backyard and building things out of wood and other household "finds." I clearly remember my cousin's always be jealous because I was allowed to use power tool, and because of their gender they weren't. Ver was always made to wait until next year, when she was older, despite the fact that last year, and the year before that I had been allowed to.
Anyway, I asked my other grandmother, my mother's mother, for a book on backyard ballistics this year for Christmas, and one of the projects contained within was the building of a cannon that used hairspray as propellant and shot out film canisters, which I did yesterday. Another was the building of a catapult, which I did today. Needless to say, though the cannon didn't work, the catapult did, and my arsenal of siege weapons is growing exponentially by the day. Those three inches and under should fear my wrath, for I have the means to destroy you!
P.S. I'm looking for love, so if you have any suggestions, please send them my way. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| I haven't written in a while, so I'll begin by saying that my muscles are sore and my skin bruised. Rather than taking part in a fight some where, I chose the more stylized route and opted to play foodball on Saturday with Fat David and Castello as well as some of his friends. Castello, much like a binary star system, is incapable of escaping his other half, Fagstello, and came decked out in enough spandex and linen(and an inverse amount of skin) to make a Victorian feel modest.
As of late, I've been looking at colleges in London, based on a mental segway I took while talking to Claire. She commented on a conversation she'd previously had with Beckie in which Beckie told her that even though she'd never lived in San Fransico, every time she got off a plane and stepped into the airport she felt as though she were home. I responded empathetically, seeing as I feel the same way about London. This entire paragraph, minus the second half of the previous sentece, is in past perfect tense. I realized that if I'm going to be wasting my life and money living some where, it may as well be a place in which I really care to.
I think I'll try and write completely in the present tense from this point forward. Last night I left (this is so not going to work) my car parked in front of Lis' house, and Tati and 'Cesca took me home. A condition of 'Cesca taking me back to get my car in the morning was that I accompany them to the beach. Though I did get slightly burned, it felt good to lay under the sun, read and chew the fat, Holden Caulfield. A few nights prior, Janelle had mad a dramatic reappearance into my life and brought with her her sultry looks, something which is welcomed with a combination of open arms and waiting hands.
Or so I've heard David say about his own feelings towards her.
I also think I'm the only asshole that proof reads his livejournal posts about four times. And I honestly do. | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
| My New Years was both good and bad, and made me sad (and yes, I did rhyme "bad" and "sad," but only because I can, not because it's necessarily the case). I spent it with Valerie and David Rosatto, who is here from Texas, at least untill this coming Tuesday, and a bunch of other acquaintances in one of Valerie's close friend's (Jasmin) Grove penthouse. Anyway, my resolution is to start recycling, one which, after one day, seems to have been a complete and utter failure. I was supposed to go to my friend Nick's house, as well as Jose's house for other parties, but decided to just stay in one place and seriously get my drink on. This all of course came at the price of not getting to see a lot of people whom I really care about, and would have liked to have seen first thing 2006, but alas and anon (anon? What exactly is it we're waiting for?). Tonight Kristin came by Claire's house because she's moving to Gainesville tomorrow, so needless to say, I'm glad I got to see her before she left for good. Anyway... | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| | The other day, while driving around, Valerie gave me the ultimatum that I either take $15 from her to have my car washed or accept that she was going to steal my car and do it for me. I took this to mean that this was her Christmas gift to my car. Not to be outdone at this special time of year, I filled up my tank today with premium gasolene as a present to my car. While waiting for the eternally slow forteen gallons (my car was deadly empty, and I, as always, deadly overdramatic) a man wiith about five days worth of facial hair walked up to another coustomer and asked for money to help pay for some gas. Even though he was dressed in a somewhat convincing "disguise," I knew he was a bum, because he'd sporaticly lived at this gas station, closest to my house, and I'd previously given him money to help "buy gas." The man turns the bum away and he comes up to me to ask the same. I too told him, no, because:
a) I'd just, just, just counted the money in my wallet and I only have twenties and knew I didn't have any change or singles.
b) I knew he was lying, but who cares?
c) There were two other customers around who he could ask, and I was really, really, really curious to see if anyone would help someone out with change on Christmas day.
And no one did. I would have loved to have had a few bucks or a five to give him (and yes, I am not the denying sort, so I know that if I had really wanted to, I could have gotten change to give to him, but the point is that contrary to some rumors I do have a heart), but oh well, Christmas matters not, even to my inquisitive mind (as in point c).
That being said, I had a really great Christmas today and Noche Buena yesterday, everyone who has recieved them has liked the gifts I've boughten them, and I got a bunch of great stuff as stated now:
1) PSP! My aunt Carmen totally out did herself even though I guessed what it was based on my dad telling me she's outdone herself, Diego (who got me the movie "The Warriors" for PSP) telling me he bought me something to go with her gift and my dad telling me he didn't think it was something electronic (and I know he sincrely didn't know). But that's no surprise, I am a really good guesser when it comes to what people get me. I once guessed that Valerie was taking us skydiving for our annaversary on two tries out of no where with no hints.
2) $50 BestBuy giftcard to be used on videogames and/or a one gig memory stick for the about stated.
3) Vermeer book (he's my favorite artist) and guitar book from my dad. I haven't really been into (I still play, I just do it more casually now) playing guitar for years, but yet, every single birthday and Christmas I can count on getting atleast one guitar book from my father.
4) $225 from my grandparents, dad, and my uncle's mother, who is of no relation to me (but loves me enough to give me $50, niggas).
5) A set of cooking knives from my beloved cousin, Andie, who didn't know I wanted them, even though I had asked someone who is unknown to her for them (and they failed to get them).
6) Some clothes, all of which have been deemed wearable by my fashion savy eye.
7) A 12-pack of rare beers from around America from my uncle, who I bought a 24-pack of Samuel Adam's seasonal for but almost didn't, because instead I almost chose to buy him a 12-pack of rare beers from around America (we both shop at BJ's).
8) A bunch of other random shit along with the stuff that you bought me, but have yet to give me. | | comments: 6 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Fat David randomly decided to throw a bar-b-q yesterday, which ceased to be such and became just a bonfire in short order. In truth, his choice was a wise one, since it saved on both money and effort, though we did throw both into the cathartic flames just to see what happens. (Yes, that was a Donnie Darko refrence; no, it was not particularly true). Like any good nuclear explosion, the bonfire reached its critical mass and was cool without anything in particular needing to happen, though this particular group of combustible matter was comprised of a ton of random people from diffrent social circles. Even though the friends who "know about the boat," because he, "kept it at one of their houses," were there, David didn't take the opportunity to get them to collaborate his fanciful story of faeries and lies while he had the chance, so as of now the boat still has yet to of existed. In total around 500 lbs of wood had to have been burned. Over a seven hour period we threw three of the large, wooden shipping palates and an entire tree that had been feld by the hurricane into the flames and let it all burn. At the end of the night it ended up being just David, Daniel, Robert, Michelle and I, lounging on the couches around the fire talking. Once I had decided to head home, David asked me to use the hose to put out the fire, and I did, which caused an incredible amount of smoke. Daniel had the genius idea of asking Robert to leap out of the smoke in his best Karate kick, and Robert did, lending himself to a hilarious and wonderful sight. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Current Music: | The Subtle Sounds of Nerd Talk | | Time: | 05:10 pm | | Current Mood: | ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/thinking.gif) contemplative |
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| One day the world will be good, so the people who populate it won't have any excuses left them. I've been in a really negative mood these last few days, though if and what it is a reaction to, I don't know. It just seems as though those things which are worthwhile are most fleeting and those which are meaningless most abundant. Then again, I'm sure I'm not the first to have these thoughts; felt this way. And I know I'm not the first to post something on my livejournal about how depressed and sad I am (neither am I the second, since I'm neither). Okay, those last couple of lines were pretty much a joke. The whole justification for them was that I haven't had much luck writing creatively lately, so decided to do so now. Lately I've been wondering at what factors culminate in making a good person versus those that make a bad one. And I'm not talking about the obvious, I want to go deeper and ascribe meaning to genetics. Speaking of which, they just isolated a gene in the human genome which is partially responsible for skin color. There are two types of it, one found in Europeans and another found in African, Asians and Amerindians. Interracial children with the European gene tend to be lighter, which children with the AAA gene tend to be darker. Looks like we can look forward to a whole new level of profiling. Yea for science!
I love looking at the series of events which lead up to any one thing in our daily lives. This is probably a by-product of studying history. Segway into my having finally quit my life of laziness and gotten the permission number for my Senior Seminar today and segway back into chains of events...
This is just me reinforcing Valerie's old theory that I was always one for neat little bundles which explain things away. I dunno, I can't think of any events to analyse. If anyone wants me to, just suggest something, and I'll make sure to draw the absolute wrong conclusion as to why it is. | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| I ordered a bunch of records from the Polyvinyl label (who have Mates of State and Saturday Looks Good To Me) many, many months back, when I first got my turn table, and they never came. I started to wonder, forgot about them, and got an email about two weeks ago telling me the order had finally shipped and refunding me for two SLGTM singles that they didn't have. I got the package two days ago, and they'd written me a note telling me the order had been lost, and between my placing it and them finding it and shipping it, those two singles were no longer available. But, to bury the hatchet, their words, not mine, they sent me all of the following for free:
The latest SLGTM record which came out during the "Lost Years," which includes a whole free single in it.
A SLGTM pin and a whole bunch of stickers, including a bad ass Mates of State one which has a drumset labeled "His," and a keyboard labeled "Hers."
A demo cd.
And my personal favorite... A single Blue Raspberry Airhead.
And I got to discover that my mixer is completely broken, not just the headphone jack as I'd previously thought. Thanks Danny. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| The mediocre descent (or meteroric rise) into another December 8th, is marked by my own latent desire to be a photojournalist. Indulge me, as I indulge myself in the telling of the tail of my last few days through powerful images of the people and places that served as actors and stage (and Aliteration, for what reason, Chaucer?).
Thursday night the beach was beautiful, and Art Basel engaging.
On Saturday I returned to the beach with Kristin, since no one else wanted to go, and it was deserted, the day beautiful and the pizza tasty
The drive home was long, and filled with the dulcimer tones of Against Me!
On Monday, David had made plans for everyone to eat Sushi together, and then preceeded to sell out, leaving me in the untenable possition of having to take both the lovely Susy and the lovely Nat to Sushi. Before going on a wild goose hunt and being lied to by Mike.
Susy had a new camera phone which can take 1.3 megapixel pictures.
Nat has her old camera, which has a Rilo Kiley sticker on the back.
Clearly Sartres had beaten me to Ceadar Medical Center, where I lunched on Tuesday during my break from Jury Duty.
That night I went to dinner with Michelle for her birthday, a dinner which left me sitting alone at the table, as this photo will clearly document (if you take my word that I was the one to take the picture). It was an amazing time.
And yesterday, we bowled, but not before David made several attempts to physically steal Susy away. 
The subtle method.
The, "You'll do this if you really love me," method.
And finally, the carry her away in a blur so no one will see me method.
As you can tell, Susy is rather taken with her new phone.
| | comments: 20 comments or Leave a comment |
| As I await schools humble beginnings, I feel compelled to recount the events of the previous twenty-four hours...
or
Yesterday was the best December 1st I've ever had...
The dramatic versus the simplistic. Take your pick, because, either way:
I woke up yesterday around eleven and spent an hour or so dilly dalling, putting on a bathing suit under my pants, since I wanted nothing so desperately as to go to the beach. Once I was dressed and ready to leave the house, I called up Pat to see what she was doing, and we met up for breakfast at the Dunkin' Donuts by my house. A round of bagels and orange juice was ordered, and afterwards, I went to pick up Fat David, with the intentions of going over to Pat's house with him to chill with her and later 'Cesca who go off of school around three. At David's house, we were delayed to the point that David was forced (not really, this was entirely a choice issue) to make plans for us to meet up with Jose. As we finally got ready to leave, David having had the time to make a myspace account, Kristin called me to ask if I knew if 'Cesca was home. Thanks to Pat, I did know that she wasn't home, and Kristin asked if I wanted her to pick me up so we could go to the Art Basel thing at the beach. I ofcourse jumped at the offer since I'd wanted to go to the beach all along, and told her to meet us at Jose's house, since she knew how to get there (I'd invited her randomly to a previous party about a month back), and it was an excuse to fufill the obligation to Jose that David had created (not that Jose much cared).
Kristin met us at Jose's and it's at this where, "Do you want me to pick you up so we can go to the beach," transitioned into, "Why don't you drive me to the beach?" So David, Kristin and myself headed off to the beach. Art Basel was being held at the Miami Beach Convention Center, which is on Washington and 17th street. We parked at a discount parking garage Kristin knew of on Washington and 13th street, so there was a good excuse to walk out to the beach for a while prior to seeing art. The beach was beautiful in the late afternoon and a drunk pilot was sky writing meaningless characters that I to this day contend can best be translated as "DUAL," since the pilot was infact challenging David to a dual.
My dad had told me that Art Basel cost $25, and I hadn't mentioned it, since I figured we'd just find out at the door and turn around, but it turns out that that's only for a full day ticket. Student tickets and tickets after 5 p.m. are only $12, and so massive amounts of well dressed people and interesting art were witnessed. I found some pins hidden in a tray that read, "Honey, tonight I want to fuck you like a farmer," or "an American Jew" or finally, "a Wisconsin Badger's Fan." Kristin kept all of them save one which just read, "Honey,..." and the Badger's one.
Once done, we returned to the beach for a little while and then headed home, having decided to drink Irish Car Bombs tonight. On the way back the Jose's, where Kristin had left her car, Daniel calls David and asks him, "You guys wouldn't want to throw down on some Irish Car Bombs tonight, would you?" Very random, very strange, and ofcourse we answered yes. Rob and Mike Robbins were at Jose's and it was revealed that Mike and Kristin knew each other from school, so we all (meaning Mike, Daniel, Kristin and myself) went to BJ's to buy the liquor on the cheap. And got drunk. I ate Ernesto's Taco Shop food later that night for dinner and slept soundly. | | comments: 7 comments or Leave a comment |
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