The early mornings on a Saturday. This is the time when I should be able to concentrate. Instead, I feel the creeping of my approaching birthday, and the lingering effects of a five day bender that lead up to New Years. The radio doesn’t help either, it’s playing music that I can’t recognize, but is eerily similar to the Omaha based record labels I used to listen to in the early 2000’s. I need to dry out for a month. It’s not a New Year’s resolution, but an actual need. What will dating be like without alcohol? When was the last time I spent the night with someone, without at …
By Day of a Younger Me
Two wine glasses. An empty bottle. Clothes all over the floor. A sock missing. I drink what’s left of an open bottle of San Pellegrino, as I limp through my morning preparations. This is a day of a younger me. The calls and tasks begin coming in at 8 am. A normal day, but a normal day is unremitting. “Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, as I answer the phone. “What?” she calls from the bedroom. “Did you get the email I forwarded?” a voice on the other end of the line answers. “I skimmed it,” I respond. I have no idea what he’s talking about. “They’re pushing the launch …
Collections – Nowhere
Germany, Iceland, Denver, Boulder – 30 What magic there once was in Europe seems lost to me forever. Even Iceland is gray, miserable and suffocating. Physically, I’m depressed and grimy. My laptop was stolen in Amsterdam, but that happened a week ago, and I quickly moved passed it. An expensive mistake on my part, that’s all it seems like now. Instead, the malaise is a spread of realization. The time to play, and be happy, has passed. Now it’s seriousness in life, career, and the care for those around me. However, Europe had seemed to escape these symptoms of growing older. But now, practicality has made short work of the …
Collections – If You Lived Here, You’d Be Home By Now
Prague, Dresden, Boulder, Kansas City, St. Petersburg – 23 — As I’m cleaning my apartment I find a small notebook that was left by the person before me. The first thing I notice when I open it are the pages full of numbers. Some have names beside them, others have countries. The hand writing is small, neat, and clean. In the front of the notebook there is a poem about 9-11, a rant to a newspaper, and a laundry list of neo-conservative national actions, including withdrawing from the UN and NATO and reinstating the Monroe Doctrine. This little number is also in the front: “As an American who has lived …
Collections – Let the Vltava Rise Up
Prague, Stockholm – 23 While renting a movie I realize that I’ve been in Prague long enough to see a full life cycle of Czech films: The movie posters on billboards several weeks before they opened in theaters, the same poster plastered on the walls of DVD rental shops months later, and finally those posters taken down and replaced with newer releases. Realizing this is the first time I can fully grasp the amount of time I’ve spent here. — We see a group of kids with fair complexions, and different natural hair colors, get on the tram. I would guess Norwegian, but when they start speaking it’s unbelievable. “Where …
Collections – MSG’s Are My Everything
For the last twelve days I have been out of Prague. I spent ten days in Japan, one day in transit, and one day in Paris. This first entry is about my time in Paris: On my way to Japan I decide to return to Paris for a night, because of a standing invitation from a British girl to stay at her place. When I land I take three trains into the center of Paris. It startles me to hear French, and my natural reaction is to respond in Czech. Which complicates things, because by then they’ve realized I’m not French, and have started speaking to me in English. Everyone …
Collections – We Get Murdered
Three friends and I took a weekend trip to Berlin. I was the only boy in the group. This is the summary: We leave on Friday and take the 18:00 train departing from Prague to Berlin. Two guys from London join us on the train. They give us beer and wine. They call Prague an embarrassment and then try to put a line of coke on my jeans. They do bumps for the next hour until they’re smashed and stumble away. Our hostel is brand new and smells like paint. I walk under the Brandenburg Gate, through the Jewish Memorial which is haunting in its simplicity, eat a chili dog, …
Collections – Grimy Mornings
A cross-eyed woman in a furry hat says something to me in Czech motioning at my table. I try smiling at her, which doesn’t get her to stop. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Czech,” I say in English, of course. She continues to jabber away and I start to stand and pick up my things from off the table, which makes her say “Ne, ne, ne,” and walk away. 2/5/08 As I’m getting off the last daytime tram, before they switch to their night schedule and car numbers become fifties, I walk straight into a large group of young people. Literally a dozen wait their turn to file out …