In the ongoing quest to better myself, experience culture, and pursue mind boggling love, I moved myself to Santiago Chile back in February. I intended to do another “Random First Impressions…” blog but that time has passed so follow along as I ramble through my slightly more refined and matured impressions of Chile.
It’s hard to consider yourself a gambler when a bad Vegas trip is losing $1,000. This is especially true when you drove there with someone who lost $50k+. $50k is a lot of money, but the guy that lost all that money rolls with guys who routinely lose/win well into six and seven figures. So I bet it’s hard for him to consider himself a gambler too.
I’ve been to Vegas well over a hundred times in my career of degeneracy, and I still don’t consider myself an expert. Just kidding; I do.
About a year ago I signed up for a free online dating site called Plenty of Fish, also known as POF. While searching through the profiles that all women age 20 – 36 within the greater Los Angeles area made for themselves, I started to notice an alarming number of similarities or recuring themes. The following is my list of peeves.
The computer science lab at the University of California, Irvine was a clinical and unpleasant place. This lab was an extremely long room filled with rows and rows of computers as far as the eye could see. The floor was raised to accommodate for the 4286 miles of cables that were underneath it and there was a perpetual droning sound that I believe to still be making a ruckus in my head. The people that spent their time here were, in general, a bunch of douchebags. They would put blinders over their screens to make sure no one was copying their code. They would make snorting sounds and slosh around in their troughs while they grunted at somewhat hilarious images of sesame street or Rogan’s Heros. I hated going to this place but it forced you to work and even with blinders on, you could still maneuver your set of mirrors in such a way to read the screens of those bastard rapscallions. One long night, frustrated over the fact I could not find a freaking semi colon somewhere in my code, I paced the hallways. I happened to notice a guy who was slouched all the way in his chair, only his back was on the seat while his hands were on the mouse and keyboard, obviously not hiding his screen. And he had no reason to, he was bouncing his head and tapping his fingers as he was scanning some website trying to find music. It just seemed odd so I had to enquire.
As I prepared to move myself to Santiago Chile, I frequently told people that I planned to “inject myself” into the cycling scene and eventually “dominate.” Well after almost two months, six trips to various bike shops, and countless kilometers, I finally injected the scene. However, I think in the end, the scene did not like me sticking it with sharp objects and turned around and bitch slapped me to the other side of the road. Here’s how it went down.
I’ve always hated getting my hair cut. I blame this on every guy in 1996 that decided they would look good with hair that was faded on the sides and had spikes on top. When you have a long face with a large forehead, you want something that hides these features, not showcases them. This fashion phenomenon seemed to spawn a new breed of incompetent barbers that were essentially one trick ponies. “Keep it fairly even all the way around, just a light trim,” I would instruct before I sat in the padded swivel chair. They would smile and nod as I could hear the ominous sound of the electric razor buzzing next to my ear. I eventually learned it was a pointless argument which I was sure to lose. They seemed to know no other way to cut hair, kind of like in that episode of The Simpsons where the family visits the land down under and Marge tries to order a non-alcoholic beverage from an Australian pub.
I’ve found myself in many uncomfortable situations over the course of my twenty-seven years. In Jr High, trying to hide my erection when Mrs Monson made me go up to the front of the class to multiply some fractions. Accidently calling and asking Shasta (an ex hook-up) how to get to her house when i was trying to call Shana’s house (my current fling). Damn cell phone contact list! And just generally any situation with a girl all throughout high school. But none of these compare to spending a night on cold concrete in a 10×15 ft cell with 15 scary mexicans behind bars.
When my dad married his brother’s ex-wife, my cousins become my brothers in law. Co-bros or brosins, whatever tickles your fancy more. My entire life I have been a distant relative to my European family as I was living in southern California. But my brosins hold a special spot in my heart and they need help. Please read on to learn more.
I like to think that I am a good traveler. Like the chameleon, I can blend into almost all situations. People always struggle to guess my origins and I frequently get told “You look French. Wait! Maybe Brasilian. If not Brasilian, probably Swedish.” From doctors to marketeers to writers to wrestlers to strippers to evangelicals to politicians, we always have something to talk about. In 26 years of moving around on this earth, I do not have too many truly negative stories from my travels. A few forgotten passports or missed buses which incurred severe charges on various credit cards or the occasional over priced excursion. But never anything to write home about. However, a recurring negative theme in my travels is the fact that I lose my camera.
I do not like to suggest to people how they should live their life nor do I go out of my way to tell others that they are doing things wrong or they could be done better. Listen to this if you want some suggestions. One thing I do press on many people, however, is to be educated and this cannot be accomplished any easier than by going to university after high school. It doesn’t matter what your chosen field of study is, just go. Whilst rummaging through my Grandfather’s house in England, I encountered an email I had written to my family in England shortly after I had begun my days at University. Below is the word for word transcription of what I was learning…