burger with fried egg and other earthly delights

a few snaps from our trip to prauge, CZ.
and half of a hamburger i made for lunch

cross over blog post...

i have another one of these things, one that is more about poetry and feelings...uhhhh, hate that word....than about the overseas, expat experience...but,i thought i might share soemthing from my other blog on this one.

i wish i had my guitar,
i wish i had on a flannel shirt
i wish i had a voice i believed in
i wish i didnt have such memories.

i'd strum an A and tell you that life only seemed as long as you wanted it to be
I'd put on a CD from 1992, and tae you back to my college days
then, i'd open a spiral notebook, and show you how ink dreams are the worst kind of dreams to believe in
and then i'd take you to a movie, and we'd both understand that movies are ghosts of
the feelings we wish we had, exercises in futility and hero-worship; splashes of light that make a big enough glow to read pages by...

there was a movie i saw once:
a girl lived in a movie theater
and read books according to the lighting of the scene.
films that took place primarily in the daylight
were obvious favorites--enough light meant
a lot of reading. Westerns were the best. Horror movies,
not much going on in the theater that day...

Catcher in the Rye

So, i'm teaching Cather in the Rye to my Turkish kids, and reading it again, for like the 25th million goddamn time. this book kills me, it really does. like every time i get to page 34, and Holden starts talking about his brother Allie, and all, and how he died. and, then, how after he died, Holden slept in the garage, then broke out all the goddamn windows in the lousy place. just so matter of fact, the way he tells this and all, like it wasn't really a big deal and all. anyway, stuff like that isn't a big deal to a guy like Holden, but it kills me, it really does. Kills me every time. I mean, he's kind of a big old phony, the way he treats knocking out all the goddamn windows and breaking his hand and all like no big deal, when really, you know it was. it kills me. every time. it could make you cry, the big damn baby that i am. and it usually does...

touching back down on familiar shores

so, how do you cram 8 months of happenings into a blog post?ummmm...make it a really, REALLY long entry? Don't do it at all? just pretend the past year didn't happen, that i didn't spend it in a foreign country; that nothing notable whatsoever took place? that actually sounds like a good idea, to be honest, seeing how much writing i actually have to do and to add up all that has been going on in our lives. but, then, that would be lazy of me, wouldn't it?
lazy...that's me...
i will start tomorrow...
so long as the last pic in this set doesn't describe me too well on a thursday night

DoCopenhagen: Dinosaur Jr.: Over It

DoCopenhagen: Dinosaur Jr.: Over It



that thing right up there--i am so dumb when it comes to laying out this blog--is a link to the new Dinosaur, jr. video, which is a video/album/sound i am currently OBssessed with. strange what makes you long for home
--good guitar rock, shitty beer in a questionable metal can--
and what makes you glad to live in a place that looks like a fairy tale backdrop...
oh well, enjoy...

too bad he didn't come see us...

...but, at least we got a mention from President Obama!

check out the video:
Obama speaking to Turkish Students

i know i havent...

...been updating much,
BUT, i have been writing.
here is a small representation of said work here:
title="Wordle: thetwoJimmies"> src="http://www.wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/679897/thetwoJimmies"
alt="Wordle: thetwoJimmies"
style="padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd">
I swear, I'll start updating, just as soon as the skies stop raining, the sun comes out and stays out, and school stops sucking me dry of all my energy...until then, I'll be sleeping, wrapped in a warm blanket under the dream-time warmth of a blooming tree, in a place that never gets wet, and smells like spring...

pict citation: http://www.wordle.net/