Algeciras: Day Fifteen

Woke up at 10AM. I had wanted to get up at 9AM and go for another run, but I was beat. It´s a shame, though. Madrid was awesome and seeing it in just one day was a biatch. Anyway, had a bit of a breakfast snack. Internet caféd a bit. Took a train from Porta Atocha at 2:30PM to Córdoba. The train was AVE (Alta Velocidad España) and was awesome. So quick. This is basically what I did all train ride (annoyed the Papa and read):

Córdoba was alright. We were only there for an hour or so. Then, we took the train to Algeciras. We were scheduled to arrive at 8:30PM.

We got to Algeciras after the most grueling, annoying train ride ever. This one family kept talking and letting their daughter run around and shit. Ugh. I hate that. She just kept staring at me and trying to play and wave. Dude, f off 5 year old. Just cuz I´m a girl doesn´t mean I want to be maternal to you. I just kept making myself fall asleep - which is what I do when I´m bored and/or annoyed on a plane, train or in a car. It´s a really helpful habit. Anyway, we made it to Algeciras at around 9PM. It was whatever.

It´s kind of just known as a transient town. You´re only there to jump over to Gibraltar or Morocco. We shacked up in a nice ass hotel and rested up for our trip to Morocco the next day. I was stoked and could barely sleep. Good thing there was football and "Interview With A Vampire" on t.v. There was also a news special about all the prositutes in Barcelona. Apparently the act of prostitution is legal there, but public humping is not. So, they try and hose them that way. Interesting. I´ll have to do some field research when I go there. Holla!

Um, PS, I´m usually not at all boy crazy, but dudes in Europe are hot. What the f?! Plus, they´re al fútbolistas. I should live here and become a WAG and eat churros all day. It´d rock. OH! PS, Pt 2. On the train, I leaned over to my dad and was like: "You know what´s awesome? I came out of your balls." He liked that a lot. He responded with "That really is awesome!"

Alright, peace outside, vaginalips(es?)!
(p)Terodactyl

Madrid: Day Fourteen

After a 4AM wake-up call, a teary eyed cab ride (I miss my Suozzle), a 45 minute bus ride to Beauvais and a 1 1/2 hour plane ride, I stumbled off the plane and into Madrid. I was so exhausted, I felt drunk. I took a 1€ bus ride to Avenida de Americas near the Salamanca district of Madrid and walked 10 minutes to my hotel. (I booked a room at "Aparthotel Eraso" on Calle Eraso and Avenida Almadens. Rad!) With great luck (things always work out for me, seriously), I ran into my dad in the lobby. He was stoked (who wouldn´t be after not having seen me in awhile?) because he didn´t think I was coming ´til later - AND I was paying for our room. Ha! Dude, my dad said he paid 30€ for a cab ride form the shmairport to the hotel. He got balled! Um, I think I just made up that term, but I like it and am gonna stick with it.

We dropped off my ish, went to get some bomb ass food and made our way to downtown Madrid. (Um, sidenote: it´s fucking awesome that people are SO into soccer here. It´s on 24/7 and people on the street aren´t weirded out when I comment on their jerseys. However! I loved that in London and France I "fit in." Most young kids had multi-colored hair and "weird clothes" but in Madrid everyone kept giving me the up and down stare and just gazing at my clothes and hair. F off. Quit tryin´to ball me! I'm sorry I´m not some dry ass Spaniard. Maybe it´s different in different districts, but whatever. It pissed me off for awhile, but Madrid is so radical it didn´t last for long).

Now, the last time I was in Madrid, I was about 5 or 6, so everything was new to me. I kept telling my dad "I could totally live here. I don´t want to leave." Navigation was SUPER simple. I felt like I HAD lived there or was currently.

We went to El Retiro (kind of like their Central Park) and hit up El Museo Nacional del Prado. Totally famous. Totally Awesome. Totally worthwhile. I saw REAL Rembrandts, Goyas, Riberas that I had only seen in textbooks. Radical! I also forgot just how f´ing smart my dad is until he kept spewing off facts about all the pieces that caught my eye. Whorelando was so happy - he´d never been to el Prado and hadn´t been to Spain, in general, in years. "When did I think a little boy from El Salvador would end up here" he kept saying. I thought it was cute.

We hopped on one of those double-decker tours (the ol Papa gets tired walking around all day) and saw some awesome things. I love Madrid. I took so many damn pictures, but none of them are that good. Lame. Oh well. It was beautiful, just take my word for it. One crazy phenomenon I noticed while in Spain (starting with Madrid), though, is that a lot of dudes have fucking BOILS - especially on their bald spots. It´s f´ing gross and intriguing. I tried to sneak a photo of a dude with one on his head that was poking out of his hair, but it´s a little dark. Click on the picture to enlarge it. Tell me if you see it...

After the double-decker tour, I took my dad to check out El Estadio Santiago Bernabéu - where Real Madrid plays. We had a fun time on the tour. We met a few (upstate) NYers, I practiced Portuguese and nearly creamed my chonies seeing the pitch where tons of my favorite players worked. It was f´ing tighter than Chris Walters´ vagina. Chris, do you even read this anymore? Ha! Owned. We took a few pictorials. Now, you´ll see from where I get my dumb picture faces:

There is something about a fresh, football pitch that gets me pumped. Dad and I kept clapping and pushing each other and laughing. It was really fun. It made me wish I could give my eyes to my brother. I think he´d really like to see it... Also, Papi and I seriously contemplated buying tickets to go see Real Madrid play Juventus IN Italy for like 295€ each. It was ridiculous, but it included airfare, tix, bus, etc. If we were just a tad bit more idiotic we would have, but we obviously decided against it.

We got back to Aparthotel Quo Eraso and I went for a jog. It was really pretty. I ran through a park and up and down one of the main drags in Madrid. Um, running in Madrid = way easier than Paris. NO stairs and people don´t stare at you (as much). I ran back, showered, and took my Papoo to dinner at a little place nearby.

We had fun. I basically just asked him a bunch of questions about his childhood that I kind of knew already, but not entirely. We laughed a lot and kept remembering vulgar stories about things people in our family have done or said. My family rules. For dessert, we went across the street and ate chocolate or dulce de leche dipped churros. BOMB. Fucking stellar. We walked back, called it a night and got ready for our train trek to Algeciras (in Southern Spain) the next day...

Halfway done with my trip. Boo. See you later, homies!
T-Pain

Paris: Day Thirteen

Do I even need to mention that I woke up late? Well, I just did... so... yeah. I finalized my plans for my departure the next day and made off to Notre Dame Cathedral. Before I left for my trip someone told me that the Paris metro utilized a complicated system, but they are obviously an idiot because I had no problem (and couldn´t remember having a problem last time I was in Paris).

I got to Notre Dame and felt intense déjà vu. It´s so weird to think little tomboy(er) Tanya was at that exact location 5 years ago. I hadn´t enjoyed Paris then but I was definitely enjoying it this time...

I walked around the courtyard a bunch before I went inside. I noticed a few things: London and Paris (and Rio de Janeiro) are the city of lovers. Everyone´s coupled up and walking arm-in-arm (cute) and making out (not cute). London and Paris are fairly clean. I had yet to see any rats - although I know they exist. Lastly, I saw this NASTY dude with DISGUSTING pigeons (I acquired a pigeon phobia awhile back, remember?) before I went in the cathedral.

The inside was nice. Duh. Not much else to say about it really... I decided to peruse Paris a bit more before I had to return to meet Bobo. I found myself in little quaint nooks and crannies. It was loverly.

On my way back, some old dude yelled at me for taking pictures in the metro station - because I´m obviously going to use them for evil purposes. Old pissed off French dudes are funny. For the most part, people left me alone - which was wonderful. I love alone time now.

I met Bobo at our usual spot on the stairs (aww, we have a spot!) and lounged at the apartment for awhile. As we were fussing with some lamp that wouldn´t turn on, I "fixed" the "problem" and Plus gushed "Plus! Not just a pretty face!" HA! I LOVE MAGGIE! I kept repeating that back and laughing. We were full of one-liners our whole time together and loved repeating them. Other top faves: "Yeah, my fucking ballsack!" (Fernanda) "How could you... NAZI... it?" (Me)

We headed off to our farewell dinner and it was wonderful. We shared a bottle of Rosé and some French cuisine. We beasted. We got dessert(s). We beasted again. It was great conversation - as it usually is with my Plus. Dogs walked in and out of the restaurant - one of which had the biggest dog-bunghole Maggie or I had ever seen! Plus (because she loves me so very much, duh) got me a Chupa Chups for my plane ride the next day. It was "Peaches and Cream" flavor. Clearly, many 112 and gay jokes were made... Then we made our trip back to the shmapartment:

We saw that weird metro advert with the dude finnagling the man´s nipples and Maggie joined in on the fun! Oh! And! I´m so bummed. I accidentally erased the video I took of Maggie on this broken chair as we waited for the metro. It was fucking squeaking and breaking everytime she moved. People were GLARING at her because it was so loud. In true Tanya fashion, I kept asking her to squirm about as I took video and laughed me ass off. DAMN ME FOR DELETING IT! I suck turds.

Speaking of sucking turds, I am really going to miss Maggie. We got sentimental toward the end and as we fell asleep. Maggie claimed she was going to have a nervous breakdown when I left. I told her to mourn me and lament me so much she could not eat. Honestly, Plus has been more than hospitable and lovely to me. I've felt a strong connection with her since the first time we really spoke. I fucking love that girl. If I had the funds, I´d go back and visit her like, I dunno, tomorrow... She´s a great, beautiful, intelligent, funny broad. I love her style and I love her person. If you don´t know my Plus, it definitely sucks for you.

Paris: Day Twelve

I added something to the London: Day Ten entry. Enjoy!

Per yooj, I woke up late. Whatever. I´m on fucking vacation. At first, I felt badly about it - like I should be out exploring Paris, but whatevskis. I´m le tired. Regardless, when I woke up, there was a choir practicing in the courtyard. Plus had warned me about this. She said "it´s like living in a Woody Allen movie - people just burst into song." I love Plus.

As I showered I remembered that during my post-jog shower last night, I had tried to dry my hair with the whiplash method. Girls know what I´m talking about. I didn´t have another towel and I didn´t want my hair sopping wet. So, I threw my head and hair forward and back violently. However, I threw my head too far forward and slammed my forehead on the bathtub area. Yeah, I´m flexible and yeah, I´m an idiot. When it happened a loud empty thud rang in the air. I laughed really loudly thinking "Did I really just do that?" Hilarity.

I walked around Plus´ area - which she told me they call Bobo (for bourgeoisie and bohemian). I decided to start calling her that. I read on some steps when I was done walking and waited for Bobo to get back from work. People kept trying to talk to me, but I felt a fool when I could only reply minimally. Usually I´d just ask if they could speak Spanish. If not, then English. I´d rather be a "Spaniard" than an American abroad...

Bobo showed up and we had decided earlier to make a nice hearty salad for us and some of her friends for dinner that night. We got prosciutto, figs, goat cheese, nuts, baguette, etc. It was going to be awesome. Bee-tee-dubs, I like that everything has its own shop. Bakery. Cheese shop. Etc. It´s fun - as long as they are all close to one another.

Plus and I lounged before her friends arrived. When they showed, we got to "cooking." Her friends brought wine(s) and dessert. The whole meal was delicious. We talked a bit. We ate a lot. We watched some "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and her friends called it quits at midnight. Maggie talked on Skype for a long while as I packed and did the dishes. It was perfect.

I needed some time to digest physically - and mentally, seeing as though today marked 3 years since Manni´s passed. I´ve decided against devoting a separate entry to him/it/whatever. I´ve pretty much said all there is to say about it: It sucks. He was great. He was loved. I miss him... I´m glad Maggie was preoccupied because maybe it was the wine or the upcoming lady days (sorry dudes) because I teared up a bit, but was happy to know I got to experience Manuel in a way most people had not (not in a gross way, sick-os). Maybe later I´ll blog about the AMAZING lunch I had with a great friend of his Olayinka... that´s how I´ll celebrate him instead.

Maggie and I chatted about how much we love each other, basically, and how great of a time we had had thus far. We fell asleep and braced for our last day together...

Paris: Day Eleven

After much drama with Eurostar that I won't even get into, Maggie and I left for Paris on the train at 6:40AM. We arrived in Paris at 10:40AM. Maggie had to rush off to work so she gave me her keys and explained the way to her home. Before she left though, I pointed out a huge turd in the corner of the metro station to which she replied "Welcome to Paris."

I made it to Maggie's without incident. However, I should point out that I had 1 hour of sleep (in a bed) under my belt, had napped on and off throughout the duration of the train ride, and had nothing whatsoever in my belly. Whilst lugging my bags and climbing a bajillion stairs to Maggie's I wanted to cry, pass out and sleep all at once. I was beat.

I really love Maggie's 'hood. It's pretty, relaxed and quaint. I basically did nothing until about 3:30-4PM and then walked around her area until about 5:00. Then, I sat on some steps near her apartment and read until Maggie arrived from work at 6PM. Maggie and I were super tired but begrudgingly decided to go for a jog.

Stairs(x20) + no sleep + no food + hatred of running = total suckage. We ended up at a beautiful vantage point of the city where people hang out, drink beers and listen to minstrel's. We sat and enjoyed the music and view for a bit. We kept joking about how romantic it was and that we were on a date. We jogged back.

We got home, did some sit-ups and took showers. We walked around Paris a bit more and found a place to eat. We sat outside at a secluded table and had a fun time. This basically seemed like another date. I can't blame Maggie for wanting me, but I mean, come on, who wouldn't? Kidding, obviously.

We stayed out until about midnight, retreated home, and collapsed onto the bed. We were exhausted. I swear I'll take some pictures tomorrow, kids. I know you miss my face. Take care, b-words!

T-Mex

London: Day Ten

Maggie, Fernanda and I all woke up fairly late. It was amazing. I had been fairly stressed the last few days with all the wedding stuff and all the transportation headaches. So, sleeping in was a godsend.

Fernanda's mom (alongside the rest of the fam) was very hospitable and bought brunch food for us that morning. We all helped set up the table and sat down for a lovely brunch. It was so fun! Fernanda and her family are so funny and open and educated and warm and lots of other positive adjectives. I hadn't had a family meal like that in a long time. I felt so welcomed and the company, discourse and overall meal felt so natural.

We spoke of politics, travel, economy, the future, funny differences between cultures, etc. I really had a blast. Shortly after brunch, Mags, Fern and I got driven into Central London by Fern's mom. We met up with Maggie's friends Gagen and Maya. Let me just take the time to say: all of Maggie's friends that I have met in London have been awesome. Maggie, herself, (my Plus, my MaGadamia Nut, my fake gay lover) is pretty f'ing splendiferous herself. I dunno, there is something about girls who have gone to all-girls' schools, man. I can just mesh with them so much more... Maggie and I talked about it and decided yes, the schools could be catty and cliquey, but so many young women who attend are fucking amazing. This sisterhood forms between certain girls and it remains for years...

Regardless, we all chatted at a pub and for a few hours. It was a fun time. Then we all split up. Fern went home to Chorleywood - and Maggie and Maya joined her (so they could move Mags/my stuff from there to Maya's place) - and Gagen and I went towards Ealing/Hanwell. I still had to pick up 2 bags from Doobs'. I had a lovely conversation with Gagen until our routes split. Then, it took me FOREVER to get to Doobs' and back to meet up with Maya and Maggie because trains weren't running to Hanwell.

Since I am ridiculously great and have a good sense of direction, I maneuvered my way there and back. By the time Maya, Maggie and I met up, it was about 10:30PM. We took the bus to Maya's. She'd invited us to stay there because we had to get up super early the next day to catch the train to Paris and she lived closer than Fernanda.

We got there and Maya fed us. It was delicious. We also had THE greatest fucking time chit-chatting and joking. Around 1:30AM (with Maggie and I having to wake up at 4:30AM), we all went upstairs to go to bed. I jokingly told Maya to tuck Maggie and I in. Instead, she climbed in the bed with us and we all joked around for another few hours. I love those girls. I haven't laughed that hard in so long.

The thing I like most about these girls is that not only are they really funny, they are intelligent as well. The discussions we had all weekend were smart. We didn't talk about boys. We didn't talk about shopping. We talked about current events. Shit like that. I felt intellectually stimulated AND we cracked some of the funniest jokes I have heard in a long time. I like that... I feel like too often I am just joking around with people and talking about EMOTIONAL things, but not things that actually intellectually stimulate me. I miss that and I miss people who can do that for/with me. I feel so incredibly indebted to Maggie for her presence and that of her friends during my stay in London. This is exactly the type of vacation I had needed.

Maggie and I napped for an hour and then had to get up. It was worth it, though...

Later, friends!
-The Tanyameister

PS. I forgot to add that Maggie and I walked past the Sherlock Holmes Museum and took some pictures:

London: Day Nine - Wedding

Holy f. Maggie and I got up at 6:30 and just barely made it to our train (and only shot to getting to the wedding) at 8:23AM. The doors closed right as we ran up to the train and the conductor felt pity (thank God!) and opened them back up. It took us nearly an hour to make it to the hotel in Central London where we met the other guests. We all piled onto a private bus and headed off to Surrey.

Maggie and I wrapped our presents in the bus because we are classy. We also did a lot of laughing and napping. When we got to Clandon Park (an old estate where the wedding was held), the day was bright and beautiful. I actually got a tan IN OCTOBER IN LONDON! Anyway, we shmoozed in the marble room and waited a few moments while the string quartet played some pretty awesome hits.

The ceremony started and it was very short but lovely. I was so incredibly moved for Jaymee and Dan that my heart felt like it wanted to explode with love, happiness and pride. They are an awesome fucking couple and no one could have even tried to find a better dude than Danimal to shack up with the ol' Flores - well, now Wright.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, we went back to the Marble room and had champagne for breakfast - followed by some appetizers. We took a bunch of pictures with the wedding party and alone. Many important things happened at this point: 1. Olivia and I took awesome pictures that urged Maggie to point out "You guys are demonic together." Yes! 2. Maggie met her future husband, Gustav, (or so we've named him). He kept filling up our champagne flutes and refused to be photographed with us. This only made her want him more. 3. This really sweet girl walked in with her boobs served up on a platter in a really short dress. I turned to Maggie nonchalantly: "I've got two words for you - 'tit-tays.'" 4. As Plus and I passed through the (now) empty Marble room we heard the quartet playing Radiohead. Imagine 4 60-70 year old woman rocking out. Awesome. 5. Some other funny stuff I can't remember...

Maggie and I tried to sneak pictures of her hubby (whilst moustache-ing) during the lunch/dinner but were fairly unsuccessful. The speeches were amazing! The wedding was a lot of fun and the table at which we sat was fairly entertaining. I met a "relative" of mine. He is from the Spanish basqueland as well, lived in Mexico, is super hot (and married, lame) and pleasant.

Then Jaimie and I had a bit of an awkward fashion shoot:

After the wedding, Plus tried to commandeer the shuttle bus but was thwarted by the driver. Before he even said anything she hopped out of the driver's seat, pointed at me and said "She made me do it!" Ha! Treason! Bus driver didn't care. Thought it was funny. The bus (with the help of the driver) took the guests to a bar in Waterloo where we hung out in a private room. This was really fun. I had 2 drinks - both paid for by others (it rules being a girl) - and I hung out talking to Dennis, Jaime, Olivia and Maggie most of the night. Maggie's friends Fernanda and Gagen came through. Jaime got really drunk and I found it funny.

We stayed until about midnight and then took the underground and train all the way back to Chorleywood. After some chatting and beasting, Maggie, Fernanda and I fell asleep around 2:30am. We decided to sleep in as best we could the next day.

Overall the wedding was very organized and entertaining. I wrote thank you notes to Mama Flores, The Wright Family and Jaime's dad to say how appreciative I was to be invited, treated well and how excited I was for the union. I thought it was awesome of Maggie to buy Jaime's dad a drink at the afterparty. Well done. I had a great time in general and was super happy I could share the day with the Himie-san. Also, I bought her the clip she wore in her hair for the wedding and she told me "Now, despite my best efforts, you're always going to be remembered on my wedding day." Brilliant. This is why she and I have been friends for so long...

Hope you enjoyed the pictorials and such.
-DJ Tubular T

London: Day Eight - Pre Wedding

Like a proper scum, I woke up at noon thirty. I was really worried I was going to be late for the Ladies' Tea in Central London at 3PM. However, by the time I got out of the shower and was ready to leave, I was right on time. Now that day I was to move to a different house with my friend, Maggie aka MaGadamia Nut. I decided the best thing would be to pack my outfits for the dinner, wedding and next day, along with toiletries and leave the rest at Doobs'. This proved to be an excellent idea because once I got to the bus stop, I was very nicely informed by some guy that the bus drivers were on strike. I trotted over to the overground rail station - which was running slower than ever because of the influx of passengers. The young dude and I ended up across the tracks talking about Portugal, Mozambique, London and New York until our respective trains arrived. We bid each other farewell and I rode the train as deep into Central London as I could - hoping to make up some time. It provided futile. All the undergrounds were f'ing packed as hell and late or packed as hell and slow.

I got to the tea at 3:15 - not too shabby - but poor Jaime-san got trapped in the underground and didn't make it until about 4PM. The tea was really beautiful. I met Olivia - she fucking rules. It was great to see Lucy and Mama Flores too. Lots of pictures were taken. PS. You know it's a short group when I'M one of the tallest...

I don't usually have caffeine - so you can imagine how loopy I was after having like 7 cups of tea and a shit ton of scones/sammiches after not having anything in my body at all. I was way more ridiculous than usual and my hands kept shaking when I passed someone something. It was kind of hilarious and kind of embarrassing at the same time...

Olivia is radical because she not only likes silly pictures, she likes to be in them. We liked the look of the old dude up top, obviously.

So, this is where I am so f'ing thankful I didn't bring my other bags with me to the tea/dinner. We all decided to accompany Jaime back to her place, run errands and "pick-up" Dan for the "rehearsal dinner" that started at 8:30. It was 5:30 when we left the tea. Due to the strike, the incredible rush hour and underground fuck-ups, we didn't get to Jaime's until 7:15PM. I had to battle onto every crowded train (and through every crowd) with my duffel bag. It was obnoxious.

I called Maggie to tell her I would be a bit late (we were scheduled to meet outside the restaurant at 8:30PM) but once again, we got hosed by the underground and didn't get there until about 9:00PM. It was annoying and I felt really badly for MaGadamia Nut.

To make matters worse, once we all sat down (there were 40 or so at the dinner), Jaime's dad asked that we all stand one-by-one, introduce ourselves and explain how we knew the lucky couple. Maggie turned to me and said "I'm literally going to kill you." I was cracking up but felt TERRIBLE for my little Souzzle. She basically had to get up and say "Um, I don't know them. Tanya said they said I could come..." She made due with a little joke and it was fine. Maggie referred to herself as my escort for the evening or my +1. So, we started calling each other "Plus." "Ohhh, Plus! I'm so happy we're here together, Plus!" Ha! I like it.

At nearly midnight, Maggie and I rushed on the train to meet up with her fucking awesome friend, Fernanda. We showed up at some bar/club thing - dressed nicely with my bag in tow - and hung out a bit until we got a ride to Fernanda's.

I must say that being American is shit in London (and tons of other places). For some reason everyone thinks it's completely okay to ask you what you think about your govt, your country's policies, your leaders, the election etc as if everything is your fault - and that you not only personally elected George Idiot Bush, but you now have to defend him and yourself.

I started saying in a Southern accent: I got George Bush on mah mind, baby Jesus in mah heart, an' a shotgun in mah hand. These colors don't run!" Shit like that. MaGadamia Nut kept pretending to be in support of McCain. It was kind of funny.

We got to Fernanda's at around 2AM and had to get up the next morning at 6:30AM for the wedding. Yep, we were going to be happy campers in the morning...

-T Money

Scotland: Day Seven - Part II

Edinburgh was magnificent. I flew in at 8:15AM and flew out at 7:30PM. I didn't think I was going to find enough things to keep me occupied, but it was such a serendipitous adventure; I just kept stumbling upon the coolest things. (OH! FYI, before I forget, my inner monologue sometimes has a British accent now. It's so weird!!) One of the first things I walked past was the Scottish Museum of Art. It was free but not open yet. I wanted to go back and check it out, but I ran out of time. Bummer. However, on the steps leading up to the building I saw a small sticker that I would see a few more times in Edinburgh. It was just a plain white sticker (that looked like someone made it at home) that read "Lionel Ritchie owns this." Awesome.

Next I went to Edinburgh Castle and crossed through to the ticket booth, took a few pics inside and left before they asked me to pay. What? Whatever. I think it's brilliant. I get awesome pictures and a quick glance without having to pay some ridiculously over-priced fees. Plus, Colin (who lived in Edinburgh) told me there isn't really much to see inside anyway. I rule. You better believe I practiced the same technique when I went to Holyrood Palace (the residence of the Scottish Queen) later on that day.

On my little jaunt through Old Town Edinburgh I came across The Writers Museum. It was SO great - and it was free! I bought a few postcards and learned a lot. I spent a good hour or so there even though it was super small. I got excited to start reading some Scottish literature. I also took my first crap of the day there. It was refreshing. They encourage you to read some of the featured writers' works in this little den like area. Instead, I brought it into the john with me and was neither remorseful nor embarrassed when one of the museum workers walked into the bathroom as I was exiting with their copy.

I walked past a group of little Quaker kids when I checked out the used bookstore in the Quaker Meeting House. It was adorable and weird all at once. Dude, the bookstore was selling books for 20 pence! So cheap! I didn't buy any though. I already overpacked in the books department. Plus, a lot of their books were from 1980 and super outdated or smelly. There were a bunch of Almanac's from 1993. Weird.

Right afterward, I walked past St. Giles' Cathedral and was really drawn to go inside. I love gothic architecture. Flying BUTTresses rock my brain. Anyway, strangely enough, when I walked in Palma Ceia Presbyterian Church Chancel Choir from Tampa Bay, Florida was warming up. They were to perform during a morning service at 11:30AM. I decided to stay. They were f'ing good. I kept thinking about how much my dad would enjoy listening to them and sitting in that beautiful church. Then, I fell asleep. Ha! Oops. People probably thought I was just really into my "worship." Nope. With only two hours of sleep under my belt, I was exhausted and woke up periodically.

I went to Mary King's Close - which has this awesome haunted aspect to it. It'll take too long to type, but you should look it up! I went to The People's Story which was (another!) free museum about the history of Edinburgh's population. They had these lifelike creepy looking wax statues and I kept almost screaming. They stretegically placed them right around corners and shit like that. It was informative, though - and even moreso because I found out just how big of a wuss I was...Nearly screaming because of dummies. What a nincomshit.

Also, I saw this street:

I passed Scottish Parliament on my way to Holyrood Castle. I made tons of stops in "Authentic Scottish Souvenir" Shops. However, I didn't really buy anything for anyone. I'm wayyyyy too popular, brah, and couldn't POSSIBLY have decided which friends would be graced with presents and which wouldn't. Plus, I've really been having fun with my own company lately and haven't really thought of buying anything for myself even. But, I changed that today. I bought some postcards for y'all and a few cheap things for myself. I got this awesome glass ring - and since I still haven't found a hat for the wedding, I got a headband type thing.

I came across another Close and followed it deep into this hallway that fed into this beautiful little garden that was surrounded by houses. I took some pictures as I got caught in the rain. I liked it though. I stayed there for a bit and then moseyed onward...

Don't I look like I should be an actor in The Fiddler On The Roof? A few Muslim guys were super nice to me when they passed. I think they were confused - or maybe they were turned on by my rock-hard, veiny, throbbing cock!! Maybe not...

When I saw the city backdropped behind The Scott Monument I wanted to run to an internet cafe to tell my mom to book a trip to Scotland. I think she and my dad (and loads of other people) would really like it in Edinburgh, at least. I had such a great time and just happened to stumble upon the coolest things. I feel so lucky to have even had the seed planted (by Jaime) to visit Edinburgh. It was definitely worth the measley £46 roundtrip fee. So worth it. So cheap.

The weather had been nice. I had some haggis and mashies. I walked a lot. I enjoyed my Tanya Time - and can I just let you know how utterly wonderful it is to not have a phone. No one can contact you unless you want to find a phone and contact them. It's glorious! Regardless, my day filled up quite well in the land of Nessie and I'm really fortunate to have seen all I did.

I only wish I had gone to see the Zoo, but I didn't have enough time. Luckily for me, though, I came upon a rare breed of shrap metal giraffe on the street. Alright, love you guys!

A wise man once said:"I'm Doug and I'm outta herrrre." (If you get that reference, marry me).
Love Ya Like a Sister! Muah! puke puke puke,
T. Zo (loves giraffes!)