I honestly don’t even know where to begin so i’m gonna keep this very short. Thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with my rantings and adventures over these past three months, I couldn’t have done it without the help of all the homies back home and everyone who I met here. This whole experience is indescribable in more ways than one and I am so fucking stoked to be able to come back home but still nonetheless will miss everything that I have become accustomed to here.
One last time though…
Cheers London, Hello L.A, Whats up S.D? and Hello to a brand new look into what is truly precious in life.
From London With Love,
Damn, it really is happening. This week in its entirety has been pretty stressful, well, actually, stressful is the wrong term to describe it. More so eye opening I guess. Since it has been three months since my departure from America things have started to really come into perspective. With only a measly ten days left until I come back I find it becoming harder and harder to leave this place. Really though, I have everything I need over here; immense amounts of culture, no language barrier (debatable), incredibly ridiculous nightlife, and no restrictions against me. So it will most definitely be strange to come back to the U.S and have to deal with things again that I wouldn’t have any issues here with. This is beyond alcohol drinking age but more geared towards the overall self reliance that I learned to adapt to here.
Not having a car, not having a smartphone with all the capabilities that keep my life in check, not having to worry about traffic, just puts things into perspective a lot more. It teaches a level of self reliance that you can’t really learn when just going to College. Because lets be real, if something goes wrong, your parents are on the first flight over to wherever you are and the most is that it will be a six hour flight. While here, far as fuck away from home, you gotta adjust and adapt.
Being forced to survive and adapt is the greatest lesson anyone can learn from studying abroad which is really important to be able to handle later in life when you have NO FUCKING CLUE what you’re going to do after the best four years of your life at UCSD. Generally, we stick to whats comfortable and what we know we can do. Typical places to get food, same places to shop the general routine actions that make up the unexciting life of the average person. Necessities as we like to call them. What I learned here though is that, as corny as it sounds, life is exactly what you make of it. You can be running to catch the last train to Chesham just because you want to party in Chiltern Hills, playing football (soccer) on the balcony of a three story building, running around five different boroughs just to be able to come home and have that one amazing picture that you look at and say “I did something today and I have the proof to show it.” I realized that there is no reason to ever be sitting still. If there are opportunities to take advantage of then you have to take every chance you can because eventually, opportunities fade and all you will be left with are memories and stories that you will hold onto for dear life.
I think it’s the concept of carpe diem that I would say I took the greatest liking to. Life is short and there is no reason to be spending it only in one place where there is an entire world that is every single person’s playground. Really though, playground. Whats a playground, kids with not a single worry, running around, making friends, growing to like adventure and fun. Thats exactly what the big world is. Finding opportunities and seizing them is what makes life exciting, because really, you’re not going to remember in ten years the night you had a deep conversation discussing foreign policy over a bottle of wine. You’re going to remember the night that you and your friends all went out without a single care in the world and stayed out until 9am running from Gypsies (refer to previous post). It’s been great being here and I am thankful that I am allowed to take advantage of an opportunity like this (two weeks late but finally found what i’m thankful for). So bummed I gotta leave though to be honest.
Ten days is absolutely nothing and will go by so fucking quickly that i’m not even going to notice how I come back (along with the 6 ambients I plan on taking for the flight). I couldn’t be more stoked though to see everyone again. It’s weird to want to stay but want to leave at the same time for sure. I guess, in the reality of things theres nothing I can do to change these next 2 years but my final conclusion with London is that I couldn’t have asked for things to go a better way for me, allowing me to realize so much about the world around and how I want to alter things in order to find a solid and exciting standpoint on life.
Oh and i’m definitely going to be applying to graduate schools here because this isnt my last time living in this city…
Moscow Los Angeles San Diego London With Love,
Shit. So sorry for not updating a little earlier…like weeks ago. I have been preoccupied with inebriation of the body, along with the mind and have been a complete vegetable these past two weeks or so.
Last weekend though! Ashley, Zoe and Zoe’s friend Megan we all visiting me for the weekend with Ashley coming the night before we were lucky enough to spend the sickass weekend with the experience of being at a rave in London (together’s Winter Music Festival) and having a fuckton of dope ass stories. Mostly about Gypsies, explanation WILL be given later on. So it started with Ashley arriving late into Friday night leaving us with two opportunities. Number one, we could go out to Ministry where I set it up that we have guest list VIP OR number two, we could go home, catch up and get inebriated. We of course being the lazier of sort decided number two was the better option and spent the night in staying up until 5 or so I think and chatting up with Gavin with stories.
Bed was around 5:30am or so. Around 7:30 I get a phone call on my cell and while thinking it was an alarm and being on the side of the bed that is furthest from my desk I spang into action seeing that it was Zoe. Her flight was delayed…by 8 hours…forcing me and Ashley to do some exploring to kill time before the arrival. We made a trip into the super cool Camden Town, leaving all the big places for seeing with Zoe and Megan. Spent some time there, came back, printed our Together. WMF tickets on campus and finally made the big reunion around 5 or so. We came back, siestaed a little, seeing as how the ladies are accustomed to their Spanish lifestyle and made way to Brick Lane for some quick hipster scene seeing before getting ready for Together. Back closer to 8, everyone started the whole getting ready process. After everyone was all set, we took our SD picture and posted it to Dakota’s wall, the five of us (including Gavin) set out for a sick ass night. We got to the palace closer to midnight, sparing us around 20 or 15 minutes, right before Sander Van Doorn started making some serious shit happen.
Bam, Sander Van Doorn finished a siiiiiick ass fucking set that blew all of us away and came on fucking Pete Tong, who for those who don’t know was actually a really big deal back in the ’90s. Done, not too bad, not too crazy, it was fine. I wasn’t super stoked on it. Eric Prydz, killed it, didnt play Call On Me though which left all of us mildly upset with the situation. Didn’t have time to complain, John Digweed and Simian Mobile Disco finished off the next two hours and beyond this being out of my comfort genre or Trance and strictly Progressive House, it wasn’t that bad. Ask about it in person if you really wanna know, the music fest was overall a success. After seeing someone get socked in the nose, six drug dealers get pulled over a rail for possession, punched in the mouth and thrown to the ground we decided it was time to get the fuck out.
This is where things get serious. So I dunno if this was some sort of group hallucination or something but we came to the conclusion there were Gypsies following Megan and were out to kill her. After an embarrassing run-in with Ally Pally security and having another security guard confirm the gypsie ness because, and I quote, “[he] has gypsie blood”.
Yeah, this was real life. So he helped us get into the Mini Cab which, beyond the small mustached, muslim looking man, was completely fine and this guy took us to Old Street tube stop. Not exactly my house because everyone was paranoid and I didn’t feel like walking…so I was not pleased. This was followed by some group apparently following us ALL THE WAY BACK (Hallucination of Megan’s) and we were forced to run into the middle of the street and grab a Black Cab….yes. We paid £3.60 (price started at £2.20) to take us from the Tube to my place.
And he did a lap around the block. This was followed by more yelling, crying, paranoia, and a call to London 911, which isnt 911 here and I dont know what the fuck it is, causing me to be one cranky ass motherfucker at 8am. Yeah, it was motherfucking 8am. And this is what I looked like:
Despite everything, everyone chilled the fuck out and went to bed. Waking up at noon, laughing about what happened and making serious time to go see everything London has to offer. Buckingham, Ben, Eye, Abbey, St. Pauls, Occupy London, Camden and got some dope ass Indian food at Brick Lane. We did work on this city and ended the night with some casual kicking it in the room as Zoe and Megan packed up their things and had to be out by 2am to catch a bus to a plane at like 5 or so. So we stayed in, said bye to the homies and got to rage with Ashley before she left that upcoming afternoon.
Overall last weekend was super sick and I couldn’t be happier of how our Together experience turned out (including the whole gypsies thing). It is beyond weird that it’s already been 3 months since I have moved here and am leaving in 10 fucking days back to the States.
Damn. Shit’s gonna get real.
Next post coming tomorrow about this past weekend with some dope pictures that ill be taking (finally gonna go to Canary Wharf for the Reebok 3D art creation). Promise.
This weekend could be described as one of the most shitty experiences I have ever had or as a large opportunity for me to grow and realize what really does matter when you’re all alone in a foreign country with no one you can really trust or depend on, can’t really speak the language and have had serious homesickness for the past two months.
Paris as a city is truly incredibly majestic. From the enormous palaces, to all the world renowned monuments that make every adolescent girl’s wet fucking dream. The architectural side is uncomparable (with exception of St. Petersburg). But really we need to look more into the structure of Paris…and how much I truly regret this trip with all my heart. I left London from St. Pancras International, which is two stops away from my dorm around 4:30 on Saturday giving me enough time to wake up, pack, and essentially prepare myself for the weekend that was to come. Which I thought would be a really cool experience. I got through Customs, boarded my train and arrived in Gare Du Nord around 7:30pm. After meeting up with Stevie we made way to the hostel. Now, I am honestly not trying to sound like I am a spoiled brat at all but, hostels aren’t for me. Personally, I don’t care the condition that a hotel room is in, as long as there is a bed, a working toilet and a place for me to charge my computer I am completely satisfied. What does not satisfy me though is the random person that I have to be sharing a room with. To be fair though, both of my roommates (one left and another moved in) were really cool but I just don’t like to take the risk of having my Nikon, MacBook, Blackberry, iPhone or anything that hold value stolen from me. It’s just not my style, and I tried it seeing if it was but it’s not, so you can’t hold it against me.
So night one, moved in, started pregaming, and ended up going out to Bastille which would be the equivalent of PB in San Diego with a bunch of little bars. Stevie though said she “went too hard” the night before and ended up bailing around 11 or so (keep in mind we went out every single night in London and didnt get back till 3 or so). So I was left alone with my roommate god knows what his name is. This later turned into him and I walking through this French picturesque street with multiple Cafés where he decided to put his beer down on the table of one of the bars that was open (open container laws ftw? not so much in this case). Seeing this, the 6’5 behemoth that called himself a security guard (I called him something that I shouldnt even write here) comes up to me, grabs me by the neck and lifts me up a good five inches from the ground. Choking me. This was where things went completely downhill. Once I was released and put back down on the ground my first instinct was to find out what the fuck does this motherfucking piece of shit think he’s doing. But I was drunk so I socked him in the chest and then asked questions. As I started waving my “Rights” speech back and forth he realized what the fuck he just did. Starting with accusing me of something I did not do, then reacting completely out of hand and eventually dealing with a foreigner who comes from a country that prides itself on the freedom that it grants to all its citizens. Long story short, cops showed up and did absolutely nothing.
Reason 1 why France sucks. Not all cops have cars. Really? Pedestrian police, how the fuck do you think you will be able to do jack shit when your out of shape fat ass from all the fucking crepes you eat gets tired from running 500 feet? But I figured I would avoid spending the night in a French jail and kept moving on. What the fuck am I really going to do? Overall though it was pretty scary to be held up like that. Plus I’m a heavy dude.
You would think the night cant get any worse right? Wrong. It was past midnight, meaning the Metro closed, I was alone (got separated from my roommate during all the screaming) and was completely lost. So what do I do first? Hail a cab. Wrong again. You see, you can’t really hail a cab in Paris. You have to compose yourself and stand at this doint fucking intersection that is signified by a cube that says Taxi on it and wait for them to come to you. I dont wait. So I started getting aggressive in trying to catch a taxi. I see that he doesn’t have anyone in the back seat and his light is on so I walk up to the window, knock politely and ask to get a ride. No response. This happened a good 20 times and at a certain point I completely lost it. With no clue where I am, not being able to speak the language and not having anyone to call I was really really lost.
So I decided to phone the one number I have memorized……………mom…………dude, rough times. Homegirl got hysterical and started crying after I told her what had all happened (left out the whole drunk part but at this point I sobered up and it was around 4). She gave me the go to to turn on the internet on my iPhone and take advantage of the map that I always take so granted for (never again). I finally WALKED back to the Hostel and it was getting light out so I assume it was around 6 or so.
That was my first night in Paris…I consider it an experience. A bad one, but nonetheless something to learn from.
The next day was spent looking at monuments and tourist attractions all around the city starting from St. Martin Fountain, Notre Dame, Walking along the Seine, The Louvre, and along the Champs Elysses seeing the smaller Arc, The Obelisk, and eventually the Arc De Triomph at the end of the massive street. Then eventually got to see a beautiful visual of the Eiffel Tower as it was lit up like a Christmas Tree. Took a shit ton of pictures (the best of can be found two posts before) and finished the night with the Sacre Coeur and some Wine and Cheese at a nearby Cafe.
Second night out was also much better than the first. Stevie dipped and I went out on my own and met a dope crew of girls from Chi City at a club and took a gander at the red light district…which isnt all its cracked up to be.
Reason 2 to dislike France. Solicitors do not fuck off. Walking by a brothel and being followed by some really methy looking chick for 2 blocks felt a big uneasy. And when they find out your not French then forget about trying to get them to back the fuck off. It was a bit much. Ended the second night though on a more positive note.
If you wanna hear about Monday then shoot me an email or facebook chat and i’ll tell you. Not really something I wanna post.
Tuesday though was kind of upsetting. After my Monday scandal I wanted to go into the Louvre and do the one thing I promised mom that I would do in Paris and that was to see the Mona Lisa. Now, I was told The Louvre is closed on Mondays but the source was full of shit and it is actually closed on Tuesdays and the D’Orsay is closed on Mondays. Neither of which I could go to. So I took another walk down the Champs in the drizzly rain that kept coming and going and eventually walked back to the Sacre Coeur to essentially relive Sunday (because there was nothing else to do). Ended my visit with Crepes at a homey resteraunt and a nice piss from atop this massive mountain that overlooks Paris. Yep took a piss on the scenery, get on my level.
Photos have been posted and they did turn out really sick and I could not be happier sitting in my room avoiding this Law Essay and debating going to class.
Au Revoir…fuck that,
Deuces Bros and Brahs!
'Ello there old chums, long time no post, I know, it was a very uneventful week filled with me being under the weather, studious and incredibly anxious for Halloween weekend to finally occur. You see now, what makes this Halloween weekend so special is not just the fact that I am spending it nine thousand miles away from home or that the citizens of England take this holiday too seriously but because I spent it with the incredibly wonderful Stevie, who I shall once again be seeing this upcoming weekend as we move the rager to Paris. Recap of events prior to ol Hallows eve though…
End Of October
Damn, October flew right on by! It’s very surreal that I have been here for about a month and a half and have only a month and a half left until it will be time to back to reality. But lets not think about the sad stuff and get on with what has been going on since I have last written (10/19)…
Markus Schulz! Finally had the opportunity to rageface with the incredibly talented MS at the Ministry of Sound. After my #embarassing downward spiral into mental oblivion at EDC it was incredibly warming to be able to go crazy for some trance. Which is actually a rare occurance in this city from what I have experienced thus far with the Brits tending to lean more towards the dirtier side of electronic music with emphasis in dub and d&b. The night was so much fun and brought back a lot of great memories of Vegas that of course made me miss Jane, Gianna, Tiffany and the rest of the EDC 2011 crew. Except this one small asian kid was pissing me off and I almost got into a fight with some hunchback ginger looking motherfucker who wouldn’t back the fuck up. But hey, you win some and you lose some and overall the night was a win. With Schulz’s opener being Richard Durand we were thoroughly prepped after one hell of an incredible set for the beast that is Marky. After a dope set by Markus Schulz we decided to start our trek home around 5 or so I think. I cant fucking remember but it was borderline about to get bright.
Now, after that Friday was when things went sour for me. I woke up Saturday well past noon, missing my intentions of heading to Brighton to be able to see the beach after all this time being inland (and of course seeing another city in England) with a really stuffy nose. Now, since I am not a member of the Jersey Shore I have no validity to wake up at 3:30 in the afternoon my punishment from God was a cold. A fucking cold! I spent the next 4 days cooped up in my room working on a presentation that was supposed to be due last thursday (i’ll get to that a little later) and popping dayquil, nyquil, and advil like I was tryna nom on sour patch kids.
Saturday went by, Sunday went by, Monday came and went and on Tuesday I decided that enough is enough! It is time to go out! We were ready to go to The Roxy with their Tequila pitcher special at £7 on Tuesdays making them the cheapest place to get your hands on some fermented agave. Keyword, ready. We didn’t make it to the Roxy.. Because we made the decision to go out after midnight and not having the subway as a convenience to get to the destination really kills the mood. So a decision was made and we decided to make way to this swanky place called Mother333 which is right nearby the ole dormitory (about a 10 minute walk). Now, Mother I would most appropriately be able to describe as a post graduate, alternative type of club. It’s filled with artistic hipster girls and coiffed mustache carrying gents who prefer to get off drawing their muse well deep into the night instead of rageing face. So now you can imagine the scene. Oh and they’re all 25+ which made things a little bit more awkward. There is a story from this night involving two lesbians that you need to hear straight from me so I will spare the details on the blog (trying to keep this moderately clean). But it’s a funny story, remind me to tell you when I get back home.
That was Tuesday, On Wednesday though I made way to Ministry to go to the DJ Top 100 after party which was so. much. fun! Honestly, one of the most exciting things about being here is that unlike in the States where I am incredibly limited to my options of ‘going out’ I can actually take advantage of the fact when someone like Gareth Emery shows up. Nothing too special from that night that needs noting though, it was just really fun.
NOW, come friday…and I have not one but two visitors here to see me. My Dad and Stevie. And obviously with my luck I had to entertain both at the same time…it was kind of awkward. But pops bounced pretty quickly because he was just here as a layover from Los Angeles going to Moscow for a couple hours to see me. After he bounced we started getting ready for Halloween celebrations on the 28th, which made Halloween feel like 25 fucking days of Christmas. I am really not that big of a fan of the holiday and have never found the need to beg for candy this being due to me being a mildly obese child and having cavities for days. So I was ready to take this and get it over with. The whole costume idea, not the night, the night was fucking awesome.
Again if you want details from Stevie’s visit feel free to shoot me a holla and I will tell you of all the shit we did and how much drinking was involved (im missing a pillow). But here is an overall outline
Damn, we kinda did a lot now that I look at it. But this left me with Tuesday off mostly recovering from the weekend that felt like 4 straight days of SunGod and yesterday was a tour of the Chelsea Football Stadium where I scored some pretty dope swag.
Phew! That was a long one. But it’s truly a sight to behold being here during this time of the month. The sky is grey, the rain is wonderful, the holiday spirit is coming alive and I give up my trance, house, electro and anything else that gives my parents a headache for some jazz, soft rock and overall feel good music.
Till Next Time Chums, love and miss you all very much so and hope everyones Halloweens went well.
It’s been a week since I last updated so I figured I would just do a small recap/look forward since nothing too excited has happened that would require an in-depth post on my part. So here goes:
Overall it’s been mellow and I think my interaction with Mace has increased actually compared to when I was back home. Feel free to text me now iPhone users at my regular number thanks to iMessage and all the rest of the warm and fuzzy things that come with iOS 5.
P.S: Pictures will be coming soon of a new location hopefully if I can get my lazy ass outta my room and onto a Subway somewhere far away and not life threatening.
Ahhh 20, the solidifying year that transitions any boy into a full fledged man. With my beard a growing, my chest hair a nuisance and finally completing the stage where I have acne I find myself at the corner of “What The Fuck Have I Been Doing Avenue” and “Where Am I Street”. Although this is a year of nothing really too interesting happening I managed to make it something quite memorable…by spending it in Spain.
Lets start from London on how I managed to find myself here…
I booked tickets to Madrid a couple weeks back with all intentions of spending my 20th here (not an accident). Now, the tickets cost me a total of £42ish which really, is not bad at all in any way. My flight was at 7pm on October 8th due to Jewish reasons of Yummy Kippy (which I actively participated in this year) but I needed to start my journey to Stanstead Airport at 4pm. This isnt Heathrow, its really fucking far from the city, so I booked a nice little charter to take me from the Marylebone Campus next to the Baker Street tube and would drop me off right in front of what looked like a glass house but really was an airport which caters to mostly small jets that fly around the European Union. I went through security, flashed my U.S passport, put on my nicest smile and headed on into my boarding gate. Now, I am someone who doesn’t like when things dont go according to plan, so when I was informed that the plane that would be taking me to Madrid would only be ARRIVING at 6:55pm with planned departure at 7pm I wasn’t happy…
So I took a detour and found myself in the duty free store…with 5 hours till the big day I figured I would give myself a nice little present. So I bought a bottle of Moët to pop open at midnight. 24 hour champagne diet, get on my level. Back to the main story though. So my plane landed and all and we ended up leaving 30 minutes past the scheduled time, again not happy, BUT thankfully made serious moves and arrived in Madrid as scheduled. It was a dope turn of events.
Got through customs, put my big smile on, chatted up the lady at the kiosk and was swiftly on my way to catch a cab to Lexi’s apartment. Now, here is where things got awkward. I forgot one minor detail about Spain…they speak fucking Spanish, err well Castillian, but its all the fucking same. Now, I took 4 years of French in high school but cheated through 3.5 of them and have incredible fluency in Russian…so I was fucked. Getting the point across to the taxi cab bro was a struggle that involved me looking like my grandfather does at the grocery store when they wont take back the cottage cheese he purchased and decided he didnt want because expiration was too close. There was a lot of hand waving and number throwing. It was a sight to behold. But eventually I got my point across and made moves to Gaztambide 55…€28 broker, (took me a couple days to find the euro sign on the keyboard) but in one piece. I got settled into Lexi’s flat, we hung out a little and then, come midnight began the ragesesh that is Nomz’s birthday. After realizing that it was time to head to the club (or as they call it, the discoteka) we busted a move and moseyed on over to the dopest club in Madrid…Kapital. Now I am usually someone who can’t really be impressed by what I see (this being my pessimistic nature) but the place blew my mind. There were performers, seven floors, decently priced drinks (dont get my started on Ministry of Sound in London), beautiful women, amazing music and a wonderful atmosphere. I sum it all up I had an amazing time.
That being said and done coming home at 6ish made the night seem more successful and started the birthday on a very rageous note.
We siesta’d until noon
Post siesta my cultural experience began to learn some incredible facts about Madrid. I threw on my Suns Out Guns Out tank, grabbed my Nikon, and we headed out. The city is absolutely wonderful and I cant give it enough credit without pictures (but I have yet to go through them) so I will post them once I get home from class. Comparing it to London baffled me at how different people live throughout the different nations of the EU. In theory I guess this is the same as in the States. Comparing California (SoCal obviously) to somewhere like Kansas obviously will bring upon many many differences between upbringing, weather, skin tone, size of boobs (female and male) and others, but these are moreso forgotten because its something that is assumed back home. But seeing this from another perspective gives real insight as to how different people are brought up and in which conditions.
Madrid though, oh man, it was sunny, relaxed, you walk around and see gorgeous women all around, all smiling, all beautiful, there’s music being played in almost every part of the city by street performers, kids get enjoyment kicking around a beer bottle left over from the night before by some shitshow and in all honesty these people seemed like they didn’t have a care in the world.
Something very different from the swiftly moving life of the typical London inhabitant.
Overall the rest of the visit involved calm raging, day drinking, movie watching and every intention to get cultured. Except the fact that the Prado was closed…that didn’t leave me happy.
But, theres always the Louvre in November! :D
I consider the trip a great success and am incredibly happy that I made the effort to make way to and fall in love with Madrid. Wish I had more time there though but what can you do, class always has a way of brohating.
Thank You All For The Birthday Wishes!!
P.S: It truly does mean a lot to me that a lot of close friends did say happy birthday!! Disappointed in those who didn’t…no shoutouts for you…