T minus two weeks until my next grand adventure from Seattle to NYC to London to Seville, Spain, and I am getting shit-your-pants excited. No matter how often I travel, I can always count on this adrenaline panic stage, but the positive and negative news has been tug-of-warring lately.
-Another magazine rejection letter today. +Finishing touches on one story and a gracious editor means some money next week. Plus I still have tens of ideas up my quill.
-Still not enough money to pay current bills, let alone the debt I’ll rack up in the next two months. +Pops out of the blue offered money when he starts back up in Alaska (April). Plus my cannery money will start rolling in not too long after the debt clears.
-Too drunk last night to answer substitute request call this early A.M. +Drunk. Plus school district payday!
In the best news, my homeslice Ashley “Ash-Sleazay” signed on for two months of cheap vino and Euro fun! We met in 2001 during my second cannery work summer in Ketchikan, Alaska, and she has gotten herself into as much trouble with beers, bars and boys as me which is an admirable work ethic.
The last time I saw her, my cuz-sin and I were hungover and leaving her apartment in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Upon our return from Espain, we will work together again on Alaska’s salmon cannery row for the first time since 2002. This time we’ll be outside of Kodiak.
In Espain, we’ll be carousing with my slice Taiko. I met her (and her best friend Natalia) while working at a different cannery (in the village of Naknek in the Bristol Bay area) during the summer of 2003. She had just returned from a year of studying in Seville and was already talking about going back. She is one of my numerous posse of half-Japanese homies and has been consistently reliable for d-runken d-bauch.
And this hedonfest is all assuming that I make it past Seattle’s Whackstermann (one of my best drinking brozefs/mortal enemies) and Jenn Jinka (a classmate in Mexico who knew her shit when it came to post-class celebrating (also of the half-Asian persuasion)) OR past NYC and the Lindseys and Judy “Hoody Hoo” (all met at school in Mexico and better acquainted in bars and clubs and over caguamas of beer on Mexican beaches).
Gird your loins, little liver.
Speaking of Spainy things, go watch El Laberinto del Fauno (Pan’s Labyrinth). It’s fucking beautiful and creepy and smart and well-made. Regardless, do not expect to see David Bowie. You will be disappointed.
Time for more work. I am thinking of starting up a PayPal account to make it easier for all of you wanting to contribute to my meager travel budget.