Simtower: Blessing....or curse?

I discovered my old copy of Simtower tonight. I found it at one in the morning, and it is now 6 AM. I was up all night building a giant computer building and trying to convince my tenants to stay so I can get a higher rating. I got a five star rating now (if any of y'all wanna live somewhere...), and I just need to build it up to 100 stories to get the almighty TOWER rating. The sucky part is that I build like a crazy person, and then people leave because "there isn't an elevator close enough." F you, little simulated whiners. Grow a pair.

You get quite the rush from Simtower. It's like what I picture oxy-coton to be like. Basically, I'm like Donald Trump, but without the bad hair, and then there is the fact that Simbucks aren't worth squat in the un-simulated world.



That's just a taste. I did make my tower the entire width of the screen, which must be like, 80 condos wide. And I stopped at 67 stories, with a population teetering around 10,000. It was a rough last half hour, cause I had like 1000 punks bail on me at once. I was sweating. I also started totally disregarding the look of the building, and placed elevators wherever there was room, and had a floor of movie theatres (showing simulated classics like "Last Christmas," "Man in a War," and "Planet Woka"). My head is swimming.

On the other hand, carpel tunnel would really suck.

--Barry, Professional (simulated) Real Estate Developer

Manic Monday

I hate the fact that my laptop screen has little dirt marks on it, and those marks, if in just the right spot, make periods look like commas, which really tickles my fancy. In a bad way. And I can't just wash off my laptop in the bathtub. That wouldn't be no good for nobody.

Tomorrow morning I have to get all ready for an interview at Starbucks. You could say a lot is riding on this. And I hear, if hired, I recieve a pound of free coffee per week. Huzzah! Fortunately, my charisma is the one thing I can rely on. And my hipness quotient will be increased exponentially if I get the job, I reckon.

This weekend was an alright time. In gearing up for 28 Weeks Later, I came up with an idea of prequel catch-up night funtime!!! where we viewed 28 Days Later on a friend's huge screen (I said I would find a copy of the movie, not actually allow people into my house). We basked in 28 Days' freaky zombies-on-cocaine glory. I do like that movie. The zombies are all fast and spastic-moving, so everyone has to run really, really fast. And then people re-animate in like 10 seconds, which means you have to bash your best bud in the face right away, before s/he can say, "Wait, he bit my cricket bat, not me."

Friday we chilled, played a game of Kings with retarded rules that I have never played with before. Not gonna lie, back in Chicago we played a game with a bunch of goofy rules, and then the guy with the last king was totally screwed. Here we played some pussy version where the loser just had to finish one can of beer, as opposed to chugging a large glass where the amount of beer was decided by the other guys who got the three previous kings (and occasionally someone would pour in a sick peach energy drink to really screw with your head). Not gonna lie, I was getting pretty pissed at everyone for not following the true rules. That night wasn't as fun as I thought it was gonna be, not gonna lie. People were getting kinda hostile, and that was making me all hostile, and that's bad for my chi. C'mon.

Saturday we ended up seeing a matinee of 28 Weeks Later, and I actually kinda liked the sequel. It had the crazy dude from Trainspotting, and still had plenty of schizo-zombies that made weird hand gestures as they chased down their prey. It also featured a helicopter piloted by the black dude from Lost chopping apart zombies (which, actually, I had already seen in Grindhouse. C'mon guys). It actually had some of the creepiest scenes I have ever seen. Picture navigating a pitch dark subway station using only the nightvision scope on a rifle. Whoa, dude.

Today went pretty well, lunch at this Chowder place in Waterville, which was filled with conversation regarding penis peircing (always classy). They had these sweet potato chip things that were covered with, get this, cinnamon. New addition to Barry's Stuff to Do Before Barry Dies: Figure out how to make these. We then walked all the food off at Sidecut Metro, and made multiple jokes about tufted titmice (hahahaha, dirty bird).

And then tomorrow I want to sell some old sport crap I found in my closet and get that Bucks job (see! I already know the lingo!). Good times.







New segment of this blog: SONG OF THE WEEK!!!!!
Week of May 20 [Drumroll]:
"ALFIE" by Lily Allen
British chick, upbeat song about slacker lil bro.
Video features puppet birds smoking joints.
Includes funny British words: Twat, computer pronounced "compewer", fi-id cap
Look it UP!!!!

Don't despair,
-Barry

Counting Flowers on the Wall

I have been home for a week and a day on this day.

I'm bored as f**k.

Plus, I'm really hungry, cause I'm dieting hardcore now. Ughhh.

Sorry, guys, I haven't been really good with posting. I've been to busy sleeping and thinking about cake.

I had to totally rearrange my room to fit all the new crap I got while in Chicago while rediscovering old crap. Then I've been job searching. And searching. I've put in like 7 applications, but haven't been called back for any. Even though it's only been like 6 days, it feels more like 6...years. Fortunately, I went into Starbucks and asked on the "status of my application," and the chick said I have an interview on Monday. Yes, I might become "Barry the Barista." It fits so well, they should give me the job on the spot.

Until then, it's lots of hummus and Adult Swim. Actually, my dad was featured at the Toledo Museum of Art, and I'm seeing the painting for the first time at the opening tonight. It's a painting of boots. Sounds exciting. I'm actually pretty intrigued to see how well he does.

Click here to download Madonna's newest single for free!!!!--http://liveearth.msn.com/green/Madonnadownload it's "meehhh, kinda acousticy."

Ho-hum,
barry

Just like Michael Buble says...

In around an hour, I should be headed home from here. Wow. It's been a trip.

It's still hitting me that I'm actually done with my freshman year. That rocks. So much.

I really need to bring more boxes--I had a really hard time packing up everything. And the fact that I didn't sleep at all last night didn't help. I hope I still don't have a blood alcohol level. That would suck. Good times.

See you in hell, Mertz.

Summer, meet Barry.

Freshman Year: Complete

A slight few minutes ago, I finished the last scholastic assignment of my freshman year of college. A philosophy paper that I started 12 hours ago (but I did see Spidey Tres in the middle of it).

To be honest, I can't really believe it is over. It has been of year of self-discovery and fun and pain and alright music.

Five things I've learn:

*Accepting the invitation of a 30-year-old dude to go over to his house is totally cool as long as you get free alcohol out it

*Don't call Southerners out on incest (especially if you are drunk and they are not)

*Don't attempt to traverse Minnesota in the middle of March

*Get creative in the dining hall (i.e. orange juice and Sprite)

*Sheets too small for your bed really suck

Yes, it's been a year of love, learning, and Lakeshore Dining. Good times. Good times for all.

Goodbye school, hello summer,

Barry. Is Outta Her.

P.S. I think this is a fitting photo to remember this last semester of freshman year by. I think it says, "Look at me, I have vampire incisors and I'm from Ireland (except not really)." Enjoy it, suckas:

Almost Home

Late Wednesday night I finished what could be the biggest school project I have ever done ever. I had to build this miniture set with tiny paper furniture for the play "No Exit." It's about hell, and by a Frenchman. This is what it looked like:

Yeah, I spent at least seven hours straight in Mundelien working on this crap. The day of the presentation, the costume designer here sat in. I went first, and she throughly thrashed my concept. Luckily, she did that to everyone else, too. There was a point where everyone just stopped trying to defend their idea and just took it right in the face. I fared better than some.

Life goes on. I wanted to not do any laundry for the rest of the year, but my boxers ran out. C'est la vie, as someone says. I gotta get to that.

One five page paper away from Michigan,

Barry "Jean-Paul" Eitel

OPENING NIGHT, Kant, and homophobia

Yeah, it's been a few days since my last post. Deal with it. I've had so much freakin' crap going on...let me just say I'm glad our windows are jump-outable-proof.

Tonight was opening night for ICARUS' MOTHER!!! It's the show I've been ASMing for like the last month. It's been a pretty great experience, and I think it's basically because I'm the cast's darling. Actually, I've been decently involved in many different aspects of everything, and it's been pretty cool. Plus, I feel partially responsible for not allowing our director jump out of a two-story window one night when he was drunk. If you can come and see Icky's Mom?!, you def should. See it twice. It is..mind..blowing. 'Nuff said.

I'm so glad I got to see tonight. Due Wednesday for Barry: huge, in-depth character analysis of my final character in Acting, 7-page paper on Modern philosophy, and all of my sketches for Intro to Design, which I found out were actually due Monday. Last night was intense. Just like camping [ba-da boom]. But I'm done.

Let me relate a funny story. Monday after lunch, me and my bud Genovese go walking back from Simpson to Mertz. At the corner of Sheridan and Winthrop, there is this cute ol' man in long socks and a goofy hat passing out flyers. He thrusts one to us, and we start reading. It's this long rant against homosexuals, including scientific research that says that lesbians are more susceptable to breast cancer. I can't argue with science, and these guys have a geocities website, so it's pretty legit. As we're discovering the true meaning of this flyer, a group of guys representing the gay club on campus rush past us with a poster.

Not needing to exchange words, Chris and myself charge back to the intersection. This is the scene we see: the old dude, in his hat and socks, debating his argument with some gay dude who is burning the flyer in front of him, and a Mexican dude selling ice cream from a cart in the background. It was beyond hilarious. I was hoping we'd see a grandpa/gay fight, but no such luck. And I didn't have enough money for ice cream. Alas, such is life.

I stood there taking camera-phone pictures, and everytime I flip open my phone, I smile.

Icky's Mom?! (love it, live it),
Barry

I know you want what's on my mind...I know you'd like what's on my mind...

For the last four days, I have been on this intense Stone Temple Pilot kick. It's pretty hard to shake. I just found a bunch of their songs on mytunes, and I can't get them outta my head. Yes, I've already tried hitting myself.

Other than that, the past few days have been somewhat uneventful. Lots of rehearsal, and lots of crap for school. I have to finish a model, sketches, an acting journal, a review, two philosophy papers, and a two page paper on "what culture is" (okay, maybe it's all not that hard). Then I'm outta here. Sinara, Loyola, for a few months.

I did finish a short screenplay for my Jesus Christ class. It's an adaptation of "The Grand Inquisitor" from the Doesvoetsky novel "The Brothers Karamazov." Now that I look back, it's actually the first screenplay I've ever really finished. Huh.

But yeah. I'm facing the intense rush of crap before the light can break through. I'm gonna go get my sword.

Tuesday, shoot me in the head (another lyric, not directions),
--Barry

It's blood...

Tonight I had one of the greatest cinematic experiences I ever had--GRINDHOUSE. Although the movie is already in freakin 10th place after one weekend and clocks over 3 hours, it's still ridic intense.

From the beginning, with starts out with a faux trailer for "Machete," which features Cheech Marin as a shotgun-wielding priest. "Planet Terror" starts, a crazy zombie movie featuring barbeque, that guy from Lost, and Rose McGowin with a machine gun as a leg. IT'S NUTS!! Everything is scratchy and there are whole "reels" missing for effect. It's crazy fun.

Then there are some made up trailers, my favorite being "Werewolf Women of the S.S." Next is Tarantino's car-slasher flick "Death Proof," which totally shifts gears from "Planet Terror"...no pun intended. Like everything else Tarantino, it's all dialouge based, and can lag in energy a bit. There are some cool sequences involving chicks' faces being ran over. Worth a look.

In the end, "Planet Terror" is bunches better than "Death Proof." It just is.

A note: See this movie in a crappy theater. Me and a few companions (I don't give a f**k about grammar) saw it at our local $5 ghettoplex, and it was great. See it with people too. By themselves, the movies ain't so great. It's the experience, man. Do it to it.

I wish I got a lap dance from Rose McGowin,

-The Barry

Soxy Back

Today I went to my first White Sox game at U.S. Cellular Field. I decided they are the team I'm gonna get into. They have a cooler name than "Cubs," and they are generally "better" than the Mudhens.

It was against the Twins, and we won 3-0. However, it was frigid. April 7, and the temp is like 20 degrees. I thought my left index finger was going to come off. I mean, it was really nuts. I expected warmness and little birds and happy people, and all I got was cold. But the el was running pretty fast, and it was warm.

Later I went to the Ghettoplex to see "Blades of Glory," that new one with Jon Heder and Will Ferrel and Jenna Fischer (She's in some great outfits in the movie; see her naked below. Hooray!). It wasn't bad. Not as instantably quotable as Anchorman, nor as annoyingly random. My mom has made me watched figure skating since I was born, so I have a good amount of respect for the sport (alright, take your gay shots). Considering I really don't feel there are any real great figure skating movies, I liked this one. And I'm happy to see Heder do something positive with his life since Napolean Dynamite. In the end, I'd recommend it. Finally, I can associate the song "I Don't Wanna Close My Eyes" or what-the-f-ever by Aerosmith with a movie other than Armageddon. That is the movie's real redeeming quality.

The night is a dark time for me,
-Barrelface

The Man-in-the-woods Retreat 2007

It's been a whacky Easter break so far.

After Icarus' Mother rehearsal on Thursday, five dudes went back to one guy's house to watch Borat, and drink two bottles of Barcardi. We did lots of shots, to lots of causes: Luke Wilson, fathers, driving, etc. We ran out pretty quick, so we headed off to the liquor store (taking a brief detour to the ghettoplex and very loudly prasing Grindhouse, which I hope to see tonight).

I was pretty hungry, so I picked up some crunchy peanut butter, which was a divine idea. We walked back to the house, taking long swigs of rum and talking about love.

Then the real fun started. We finished that last bottle real quick, and then the neighbor knocked on the door and threatened to call 5-o, so we decided it would be in our best interest to keep it down. Then some stuff happened, somebody grabbed a kitchen knife, and blood was spilt. He had cut himself on the shoulder, and this set off an avalanche. One dude broke down crying, getting snot all over his mustache. A few minutes later, another guy started to cry too, I think mostly because other people were crying and he was picking up on that energy. The kid who cut himself tried consoling the first dude, but ended up breaking down himself. It was up to me and one other guy to console these three bawling grown men. I was going up to everyone and was like, "Have some peanut butter, man, just take some." I was really worried about the cut on the one's arm. They had next to no first aid supplies, save for some small bandages I found in somebody's room. I put the bandage on, and then had to use Scotch tape to attach it, which ended up leaving huge marks. After about an hour of crying, everyone was good. We hugged, we kissed, and then we went home.

One ka-razy night, I assure you.

Next day, we had rehearsal at 12, and everyone was looking great. Not. The cuts on the arm were a lot deeper than I thought they were last night, and he also had this mysterious gash on his leg. He also hit himself in the eye with a zipper. Looking back now, he's really prone to injuring himself. He was supposed to go to the hospital, although that didn't end up happening, which I think might of been a mistake. We'll see. But, anyway, everyone seemed a lot happier Friday after the breakdowns, and we all had really hearty laughs about everything.

Also, my friend Courtney came up Thursday to view the school. After rehearsal, me, her, and Samira went to the Grand Lux downtown, which is a pretty hip place.

Here's some evidence:

Although the food was good, the real story was the trip back. We took the 30 minute el ride back safe enough. However, we decided to cross the street when it was flashing "DON'T WALK."

Yeah, we shoulda listened. Samira got hit by a car. No joke.

Luckily, she is fine, but the whole thing is nuts. Whoa.

Needless to say, Easter break has been eventful. And I've made good on my Lenten thing to give up soda, but it's getting increasingly harder in these last few days. Mmmmm...

Shoulder to cry on,

-Barry

BARRY'S LIFE FEB-APRIL! PICS! PICS! PICS!

Yesterday I got the powercord to my laptop back, so I can finally leave the computer lab forever and ever.

I promised some pics at some point, so here's a brief visual of what my life has been like the past few months. Hooray.

THE ST. VALENTINE'S DAY BLIZZARD!!!! AHHHHH!!!

WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR 8-RIDE VAN ON SPRING BREAK!! INTENSE!!

WHERE WE ENDED UP!! THE EARTH IS SOOOO RICH A CITY GROWS!

THE TWIN CITIES!!! THE TWO MOST EXTREME CITY EVER!!!

ME SCREWING UP A PEPPERMINT PATTY AT BGSU AFTER SJJ'S "CHILDREN OF EDEN"!! IT GOT ON MY SWEATER!!!!!


AHHHH!! I'M YELLING!!!
--BARRRRYYYYY!!!!

Barry, Trip-sitter

Last night was interesting.

First was a pretty intense Icarus' Mother rehearsal, which included crying and long conversation about urinating into my open wounds, a concept that I vehemently protested. I didn't sign up for that crap.

Afterwards, we went over to the usual Theater party central. I have to tell you, I feel sorry for the four seniors that live there. There are random people there pretty much every single night. I think I would start throwing stuff if I lived there. Everyone uses their cups and drinks their booze and plays their Wii, it would suck after awhile. Oh well, at least they can't say they can get bored. And I've severely pissed off the proprietors of that household on a few locations, but I think they are cool with me now, sorta.

Anyway, while we there, three of my friends drank vials of synthetic mescaline that they bought earlier. I didn't have any, and didn't realize they were tripping until I noticed their pupils were the size of dinner plates. We walked around outside and played out on the beach. One of my friends, Chris, decided he wanted to walk around the streets, so I thought I should look after him. We had a long talk about life, acting, dream girls, and clouds. It was semi-insightful. We'll have to do it again sometime. Or maybe not. I thought they might jump over the pier and into the lake. Uh-oh.

We went back to the Theater apartment, drank, and then walked around campus. I figured I might as well leave now. And so I did. There it is. Life.

Dude,
Barry

Sittin' On the Dock of the Bay

Earlier today, I watched a sheep sacrifice in my anthropology class. That's an image that is going to linger.

Here is my latest journalistic exploit, a review of this spankin'-new funky-weird acid jazz CD by Steve Reid and Karin Hebden. Thought I'd key you in.

LINK!!!
http://media.www.loyolaphoenix.com/media/storage/paper673/news/2007/03/28/Diversions/Hebden.Reid.This.Duo.Speaks.In.tongues-2808118.shtml


Huzzah! I just got ahold of the newest 'Fountains of Wayne' record last night. It's pretty tight.

Peacer,
Barry

Hmm. Radical Transparency. Yes.

Yesterday I went out and bought the most recent edition of 'Wired' magazine. Why? The cover story is about "Radical Transparency", a spankin'-new evolving business theory which is near and dear to my heart.

Not.

However, the cover features Jenna Fischer (Pam from 'The Office') naked. Pretty cool. I thought I would get it for my "Office" memorabilia collection. Again, this is strictly for the historical record and not for my own enjoyment. Yeah, I spent 5 dollars. I'll put them up here for free for you guys. Douchebags.

Here's what the cover looks like from the newstand:



Here's what you get underneath the plastic transparency thing:

It's like a magic trick, only naked!


Oh yeah, this is from the actual article:



Although you could get into a big feminist tirade about how a woman who plays a receptionist should not be naked on the cover of a business magazine, I still kinda like it. I'll save arguing morals for people who can buy expensive porn.

Thought you should know,
Biz-arry.

Icky's Mom Has Got it Goin On

Can I just put something out there? I love ellipses. A lot. I was just thinking about it, and I wanted to pluck it out of my brain and put it on earth as a memorial to me. Thank you.

Anyway, it's been awhile. How's you? Better question: Who cares?

Seriously, though, I've been pretty good. I sincerely apologize for not letting you into my life the past few days. I promise to make it better.

I'll start kinda at the beginning. The weekend after spring break, I went back to the 419 for SJJ musical, Children of Eden. It was a crazy experience being in the audience instead of on-stage, and brought up more than a little nostalgia. Anyway, the production was pretty good. The set was so so, and after having even only a semester's worth of collegiate theatre experience, I can tell you most of the acting was close to atrocious. However, for a high school production, it was swell. I was pretty impressed. Afterwards, I went to BG and got smashed. Totally. I threw up a bucketload (read that "three bucketloads"), which has never happened to me before. Apparently, I passed out, but I'm skeptical because I clearly remember getting into the bed where I woke up. The only evidence to the contrary are little photo comments on facebook. Overall, though, it wasn't my best night. And now I'm a little wary of my first love, hard alcohol. I should maybe slow down anyway, considering I drink close to every night now (don't make any judgment calls yet, Billy Graham, I rarely get truly smashed). We all need to be addicted to something, right? Am I right?

If I am an alcoholic, I'm at least a productive one. Right now I'm Assistant Stage Manager for our production of "Icarus' Mother," this bizarre little play by Sam Shepard. We started rehearsal last Tuesday, and this probably the most fun production I've ever been a part of. The director, one Mike Fagin, is close to the most passionate person I've come across, and rehearsals are like cool fun times (a little ambiguous, I know). There is somewhat of a tension, though, because the SM and myself aren't really sure if we are going to hit certain marks on time. However, I think (or at least would like to believe) there is some method to his madness and everything will end well. We shall see. This takes me to the end of the school year, so I'll be talking about it a lot.

Last night, Mira and myself went downtown without much of a plan. I thought it'd be good if we actually went somewhere, because we hadn't been on a true date since early February. Anyway, we ended up going to the Devon Seafood Restaurant place on Chicago, which is incredibly good. It's also ridiculously expensive, if you get entrees. However, if you can withstand looks from the waitress, the appetizers are more than filling.

After that, we tried going to the John Hancock building wit it's fancy outdoor viewing deck, but were accosted by the guy selling tickets because the visibility was so bad. "I cannot believe that someone would spend $20 on going up when the visibility is 0 to 4 miles." He was pissed. I was convinced. So we ended up going to the Ghiradelli store (screw you, Italy and your hard to spell names), which was a good choice. This is because the group next had a bet going that this one guy could not eat the "EARTHQUAKE" in under 4 minutes. Let me explain. The "EARTHQUAKE" is this giant, 15 scoop ice cream platter-o-rama costing over $24. He didn't get under 4, but was done in under 20 minutes, without even vomiting. It was riveting. The highlight of the evening, pretty much. If only that could happen every day.

Then we went back to this one girl's dorm and had some nasty Margaritas. If there is one thing I hate more than contemporary Christian rock, it's crappy tequila. We started to watch High Fidelity, a Chicago classic that I have yet to see, but everyone was about to fall asleep besides the Barry, and so they stopped the movie before it was finished. I was bummed. C'est la vie, as someone says.

On a sidenote, I've noticed that I've had some pretty close to perfect days so far this spring. Like the one day it was gorgeous outside and there was free sushi in Rambler Room, or last night when we watched the guy engorge on ice cream. I think, just maybe, the universe is pleased with me. Hopefully this lasts for awhile.

Anyway, in celebration of so many good times thus far, I present you with this. Enjoy.


--Barry. Outtie.

Sodom and Gomorrah

This is what I'm talking about.

Spring Break '07 (aka This is Blue Earth) Pt. 3: Alone in the Big City

Well, sort of.

We got back Tuesday night, and it struck me that I was the only human being on my floor. Mertz was dead for a week. I could listen to music loud, throw stuff in the hallways, maybe walk around in a dress, it was my week. However, I spent a lot of it over at the skanky house of a theater friend, where there was quite a bit of boozing and...enlightenment.

Wednesday I decided to finally go out and see the Shedd Aquarium, which has been one of my goals since coming to Chicago. Let me tell you, it's freaking amazing. I think I might even become a member. If you ever come over, I'll take you around. Then I came back and saw "Zodiac," which I strongly recommend. I was bummed out that the killing ended within the first half-hour, but how can anybody not like Robert Downy, Jr. Compared to the "Unsolved Mysteries" Zodiac killer reenactments I've seen, this movie was bomb diggity.

Thursday I tried out the Merchandise Mart, which turned out to be mostly boring office buildings. I did try Jamba Juice for the first time, and now I know what happiness tastes like. I also went, on suggestion of my mother, to the Lincoln Park Zoo. It is free; that is cool. It reminds me of the Toledo Zoo back in the day, when we thought animals couldn't be happier walking back and forth in steel cages. It had a really vintage feel, and a really zoo smell.

Then I saw the midnight showing of 300, which is definitely awesome. I don't think it's the best movie ever, but it definitely was fun. And no, my first thought after seeing it was NOT "Wow, those guys were ripped." Although they were. My favorite part was probably these grenade launching magicians with long, silver-chain beards. They tickled me.

Friday I helped out at a homeless shelter with my Blue Earth buddies, and then kicked it with them. Saturday we went to a Pow Wow at Joliet Junior College. Not gonna lie, it was a little on the janky side. But I did get to try Indian tacos. And today I just got an e-mail saying that they are going to redo the trips in May. I think this story might have a happy ending after all.


Tomorrow I wake up early and Megabus it back east. I am seeing my high school's musical, "Children of Eden." We'll see how this goes; maybe I can finally show up Damian with my college theater experience. And, while I'm speaking about random crap, wasn't the weather beautiful Wednesday? Everyone was happy and dancing and laughing. We ended up throwing sand at each other on the beach. It got in my mouth. Not cool.

I swear, I'll have pictures up soon. Stop crying.

Killer with the beat I know killers in the street,
Barry

Spring Break '07 (aka This is Blue Earth) pt. 2: Valley of Darkness

Who doesn't love Psalm references? And today was a beautiful day. A few friends and myself got a little tipsy, went down to the beach, and I ended up with a face full of sand. But I have to finish the story I've started.

So we ended up in Blue Earth, Minnesota.

We stayed at a pretty decent Super 8, had some dinner at Pizza Hut, and basically relaxed. And then we found out that the Patrick, the head guy of the ABIs here was not letting us go any further. No chance. We were staying until Monday, and then driving back home. Now I can understand this course of action for the other group, considering their freakin van flipped, but everyone in our group wanted to go on. We were very disappointed, not even gonna lie. I barely slept that night--I was pretty angry. I have yet to write my strongly worded e-mail, but I might get around to that someday.

Nevertheless, Sunday was a blast. We went to Wal-Mart (boo) and then visited the Jolly Green Giant. We also played around in the giant mounds of snow, and I got really cold and wet. At one point I stepped into snow all the way up to the waist. It was really hard climbing up the snow mountains. I felt like a tortoise that some punk kid put on it's back. At one point I actually was on my back, and couldn't figure out how to get back on my feet. Whatever. It was a "good time" as they say. Then we made dreamcatchers with some stuff we bought at Wal-Mart, which kinda gave the whole thing an Indian feel sort of I guess.

And then we found out some more news. Apparently, the plans had changed. The passengers of the van that flipped had to use Amtrak to get back, and they were going to make everyone in both groups (mind you, we were totally separate groups with totally separate purposes) drive up and stay a night in the Twin Cities (those are Minneapolis and St. Paul, in case you didn't know). Bummer.

So we headed north out of our way two hours bright and early Monday morning to St. Paul. They forgot to mention our hotel was in the hood. Oh well, at least we could go to the Mall of Americas, or the world famous flour museum....psyche. Apparently, those aren't in the ABI spirit, but bowling is. How this was still considered an ABI I'll never really know. Really, I'm not knocking bowling, but I rather sample some of the local flava then do something I could do anywhere. But, everyone found my bowling technique amusing. Very amusing.

At night, our group had a little reflection which consisted of saying something about the trip that made us mad and punching a pinata. Then we played Apples to Apples (or "Ashes to Ashes" as someone kept calling it).

Tuesday we headed home. We missed the SPAM museum. That was a sad part. We arrived in Chicago at 6:30.

Thus concludes Part 2. Coming Soon: SB07 (AKATIBE) Part 3: Alone in the Big City.

Don't let this go to your head,
--Das Barry

Spring Break '07 (aka This is Blue Earth) pt. 1: Humble Beginnings

I've decided to break my story into a few parts this time, because there is a bunch to say. Also, my computer finally came back (rejoice if you must), but, joke's on me, they forgot the power cord [trombone "wah wah wah" noise here]

Anyway, for spring break I was supposed to go to Mission, South Dakota on an Alternative Break Immersion at an Indian Reservation. It was going to be a great time--horse back riding, these yummy food things called Indian tacos, rocks--all that fun stuff.

We never came close.

I woke up at 4:30 AM last Saturday, grabbed my bags, and we left at 5. I decided I would be the "el Navigator" and keep Paul, the trip leader and driver at the time, awake and jolly. We drove through Illinois (I finally saw that "Medieval Times" everyone keeps yelling about) and Wisconsin. That's when we suspected something was going down. The roads were pretty decent, but every few minutes a cluster of cars would be seen that had slid off the road and into giant mounds of snow. They must've been all from last night or something, because nobody was inside and some had police tape around them. "Meh," we thought, "only idiots drive off the road." We couldn't have been more wrong (or right, if you want to be mean about it).

We crossed the giant Mississippi River, which I've never seen, and started into Minnesota. The snow was huge. It wasn't snowing, but the roads were still sort of bad from a few days before. We got about an hour into the state and were looking a place to eat. Supposedly, all ways into SD were closed. Bummer. And then it happened. We were all talking and having a gay ol' time, and then, WHOOPS!, WHAT THE??, WHOA!! We slid off the road and into the snow. Crap. We collected ourselves and then started calling insurance. They were none to helpful, but some guy driving a plow saw us and called a tow truck and the fuzz. And it was freaking cold outside. Anyway, the tow truck came and gave us a "winch" (and I learned a new word), and we were on our way after about an hour. We slowly made our way to the next town, went to Subway, and decided what we should do.

There was another group going to another part of South Dakota. They were going the same way, though, and we thought we'd give them a heads up and see if they wanted to meet us. "Nah," they said, "We're going to the border, at least. We're already ahead of y'all. Blah, blah bl--silence." One of their vans flipped. Someone on one of these trips must've had pretty bad chi...

We decided we were going to stay for the night at the town where we were eating. Where were we?

Blue Earth, Minnesota. Home of the largest Jolly Green Giant statue and the Eskimo pie.

More to come,
Barry

P.S. Never fear, reader, I'll have pictures up soon