Summer VLog: Featuring Stefhan!

As promised, the new VLog entry features my best friend Stefhan! We recorded this in the living room (we were supposed to tape in Barefoot, but the Sunday jazz session would've drowned out our magnificent commentary on life). We tried doing one long take, but that didn't work out too well with my Dad hovering around ("helicopter parenting") and Stefhan's phone ringing. There aren't enough cautionary words in the English language for this video. We're immature, we make wildly inappropriate jokes, and half the time we're laughing at ourselves. How do I function without this boy around?

Summer in Sri Lanka To Do List

From Black Sand Journal

1. Intern at a newspaper...
2. ... Not die in the process.
3. Photograph what the government doesn't advertise in brochures...
4. ... Not die in the process.
5. Volunteer for Equal-Ground...
6. ... Not die in the process.
7. Gym 5 days a week...
8. ... Not die in the process.
9. Live with my parents for 14 weeks...
10. ... Not die in the process.

To summarize, staying alive is the low bar I'm setting for a successful summer.

Motorcycle Fetish

Just too fucking hot. Now that summer is slowly settling in, I see motorcycles parked everywhere and taking photos of them is fast becoming my artistic afternoon delight. Enjoy.

From Black Sand Journal

From Black Sand Journal

From Black Sand Journal

NYC-Style Generosity...

From Black Sand Journal

... soothing music....

From Black Sand Journal

... sound advice...

From Black Sand Journal

... and serviceable trash.

Toast to a New Year

In more ways than one, 2009 is the first year I've begun not hung over from the last. The sun that crept between my blinds did not burn my eyes, my head did not feel magnetically attached to my pillow. I got out of bed without stumbling, looked myself in the mirror without grimacing. My clothes are neither stained, nor torn, nor lost. I can remember last night without the aid of my digital camera. The kitchen table is cluttered with corks and six empty champagne bottles - but my Advil one still rattles.

Yes, 2009 already seems very different from 2008.

From Black Sand Journal

By the way, I traded my 'Happy New Year' tiara for this hat with a woman in a fur coat on East 4th Street. Around 2.30am, the hat flew across 6th Avenue and was run over by two cabs. Rob heroically retrieved it, and then we all got hot dogs.

Too exhausted to write, so watch this

There are some real gems on YouTube, this is one of them. I think the clip is freakishly accurate - maybe that's because it appeals to my jaded spirit. Enjoy.

Too Much Time in Airports

From Black Sand Journal

The natural Häagen Dazs reservoir beyond the ferns at Dubai International Airport.

I should live here!

Tree Houses in Madison Square Park!

From Black Sand Journal

Ode To Stefhan

Decided to hide this further back in my blog - it was actually written during Summer 2009 and published on August 30th 2009.

Following in the footsteps of Cassius Clay,
I'm not only starting to box,
I wrote you a poem as my personal way
Of declaring, "my friendo rocks!"

You love watching big men fight mano-a-mano
And some people might think that gay,
But I bet you rather mount Gina Carano
(You know I would too any day).

That vlog where we talk about Ellen's clitoris
Might have got us in some trouble,
For those who did not think us so vociferous,
We were bursting quite the bubble.

But our best friendship is defined by jokes like that
And high fives between chats on life,
I know your weapon of choice in single combat
Would be my Dad's kitchen knife.

My sable-haired friendo, what a summer it's been,
I can't measure how much I've changed,
Thanks for keeping me happy, coherent and clean
As opposed to drunk and deranged.

Despite my hundred day liquor-free vacation,
That Ribena-Thambili drink
Must be your greatest mixed-beverage creation,
(It tastes better than one would think).

Though our friendship is usually convivial,
You've also steered me through hard times,
Remember all my problems become trivial,
If the help that you seek is mine.

There is no one else in the world I'm more missing,
I wish you could come back with me,
In an N.Y.C. park one night you'll be pissing,
I promise, friendo, wait and see.