Monday, 11 February 2008

shitty deal

The last week hasn't been so great for me. My notebook is missing. Sketches, doodles, Spanish lessons, lousy poetry and somewhat better prose, notes from museums and sketches from ones which didn't allow photography, lyrics, musical ideas including a few nearly completed pieces in letters or messy tabs or both, art ideas and thoughts, quotes from novels and nonfiction that I wanted to remember and that I wanted to think on later, project ideas, geek notes, contact information, some diary stuff (though thankfully not all of it)... all of my creative output from the last three and a half months, gone. I know where it was: I'm anal about this book, and it and one novel were left in a hostel in Otavalo, I'm sure, when I repacked before running for a bus. Two friends went back to look for it, twice, and it's not there now. Three months, gone. The day before yesterday I got ripped off by a scamming bar manager, pushed around by an asshole statesider, then treated like shit by someone who I thought was a friend in a way that enhanced the actions of the manager and the statesider. Three days ago I got ripped off by a guide. Promised horses that would want to run, I got a mare with a greying mane and my friend's horse refused to even trot without being switched in the flank repeatedly. My saddle had buckles in a stupid spot - I think it was a child's saddle - meaning that my thighs got bruises where they touched it, making galloping impossible and trotting only possible in an uncomfortable and unsafe position with my thighs off the saddle. What was supposed to be a three hour ride with maybe an hour of checking stuff out on food was seven and a half hours, with maybe a half hour on foot. It ended up costing so much that my friend and I didn't even have enough for our busses the next day. What I like about horseback riding is galloping and being in touch with the horse, not having to convince it to walk at all, not being able to feel it underneath me, and riding in pitch black which was dangerous for it and I. And today the first version of this post got deleted because control-C, while IE claims means "copy", actually means "delete and don't allow ctrl-Z to bring back." Also, I hate Quito. And there's been lots of other small things that've just sucked but that aren't worth typing in. So. I have a blog. No blog is complete without some measure of emo whining. Here's hoping the quotient is full. /whine

Sunday, 10 February 2008


There's about a hundred photos up on my flickr. I haven't got time to actually write stuff up for them now, sadly. Also, older photos are apparently no longer available. Huzzah. Short version: wish I'd known that at 200 photos, old photos start being hidden. Old posts might now have links that don't work, I apologize. Anyways, new photos at