Reposted from Drafts on October 30, 2019
I think it’s time to go.
It just feels that way. Time for a change.
I should grow a moustache again, start wearing really tight striped t-shirts and pants that don’t go all the way to my shoes and hitchhike through Eastern Europe.
Or maybe I’ll just dye my hair and get some tattoos. And face piercings.
I’d really like to go to Tallinn, in Estonia. Check out the pictures online, because the city looks so beautiful. I think I’d do a little tour starting there and then go to Riga, and then maybe I’d jump to Prague. I don’t know how practical that would be. Next I could pass through Vienna on the way to Budapest, then stop briefly in Zurich on the way to France. Then I think I’d hang out in the south of France until I ran out of money and had to come home. Maybe try to see a bit of Spain as well?
I think it would be nice, but I just worry about who would take care of my kombucha.
EDIT (30-10-19): I ended up doing a version of this. (It’s really too bad that I let the blog slip for so long). And it turns out no one took care of my kombucha.
It’s a beautiful day outside and I’m trying to figure out how to properly seize it. I’d like to get some sun-time, but my shoulders are a little burnt from getting some sun-time on Tuesday. I’m a fool, I get sunburnt every year because I don’t think. I even put on sunscreen this time, just only on my face and neck. I guess by next summer I should have it figured out.
Really, it’s crazy important to be careful with the sun. When I was a teenager I spent a summer working for a non-profit that worked to raise awareness of skin cancer and support those going through treatment and survivors. We’d do things like give out sunscreen at summer events. It’s wild how many people don’t think about it.
I’m a pretty light skinned guy, so it’s always on my mind, it’s just that I’m also an idiot so I often brush it off, like I did the other day, and now my shoulders are crazy itchy. I’m trying not to think about it but it’s clearly not working.
I think I’ll probably do the same thing I do almost every day, go downtown to drink coffee, eat a muffin, and either read or write or maybe both. I’ve found that lately I’m having a really hard time getting engaged into fiction. I’ve been reading the New Yorker (12 issues for $12 promotion!), and a lot of non-fiction books, but I can’t get into any novels that I pick up. I guess I just haven’t found the right one.
(Book recommendations can be sent to email@example.com).
The last book I read (fiction category) was a Romanian novel. It was fairly short, called The Vain Art of the Fugue. The author is Dumitru Tsepeneag. I liked it, though it was hard to follow. The story was about a man meeting a woman, but told from several different perspectives in what feels like several different universes, the narrative completely unravelling by the end. It’s worth a read.