Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Evo Morales doesn't like Gingos*



Yours truly finally booked her tickets to Peru and Bolivia!!

I will be spending two weeks-ish in the Southern hemisphere; most of that will be in Peru. I am super excited to go to Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca. I will be sure to check the toilets to see if the water goes down the other way. (Oddly, there has been requests)

Admittedly, the high altitude is a little intimidating, but I hear that chewing coca leaves and staying hydrated eases that well. I also have to get a visa, which means that your pal Laurenation is going to be getting a Yellow fever vaccination. She isn't too thrilled about it, but if that means she can go to Bolivia I guess that's ok. (talking about vaccinations apparently results in third person monologue) The unfortunate thing is currently there is a world wide shortage of Yellow fever shots so she isn't exactly inexpensive. One positive is that I will be immunized for ten years; so if that trip to Africa or Brasil is in the horizon that's one less shot.

*This gringo is actually just bitter about spending her pennies on a shot that could be used in Bolivia.

My lil' Sea Monkey

A few weeks past I met up with a friend at a bar near her home. It was the grand re-opening; after having to move from the other location they finally opened their doors. Albeit, another strip mall locale it was more a lounge than the dirty dive bar in my memory. Why a strip mall, I don't know. Southern California boggles me in ways that I am still trying to understand.
Before I stray on tangents, the bartender is the real reason why people come here. Er, at least why I love to go. His name is Stu, and he lives on a boat in a harbor 'cause he loves to "live near the fishies. " He also pours a stiff drink to those who imbibe, and he is a tad bit of a flirt. (That night in particular he was wearing a Popeye shirt- how very appropriate.)
When we arrived, we had some great verbal exchanges, some which include me looking fragile (I attribute that to my scarf, winter coat and wool hat that was adorning my body) and slightly boyish. Always the polite conversationalist, I listen to his ramblings of when he used to chase blond women but back then his hair was jet black. I am side tracked by his beautiful handle-bar moustache, which is beyond perfection. If it were possible, there would be one on my upper lip, complete with fringes that grace my lips.
Eventually, the night came to a close, with us heading out the door. A raspy demand echoed from the bar. I sauntered over to Stu, who methodically leans in to inform me:

"When you go home tonight, you think thoughts of dirty old men, because one fell in love with you tonight. "

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

The neighborhood cat!!!

I'm sure you have heard my rantings about the neighbor's cat that is inclined to leave me presents.
Photobucket

Well, he also enjoys when I let him come in and pretend he's my cat for short periods of time, and generally I am ok with that. He's a good part time cat; I have been calling him Maurice, even though I caught his owner calling him Smuckers.

Smuckers?!


Anyways, she tends to leave him outside for extended hours, and it's normally when she is out and about. I generally find him tomcatting around with the other feral cats, even though I always held a higher opinion of Maurice.

Even though he did maroon his decapitated birds on my door way...


I still think he's pretty okay.