From being out on the piss, to going out into the abyss

each morning, i rise, not to the caresses of the rising sun, nor the mellifluous tunes of bob marley, not even to the shrill t-mobile jingle that is my alarm clock, but to the harmoniously dissonant groans and mumbles of jumble that have become a staple in the lexicon that is igorshwinish, a strange dialect of the ancient blitherish-gibberish which has its roots as the oldest spoken language known to (yo)utes, me-ts, and us-tes. it is a tongue whose oral, and fecal history has traveled far and wide, and whose echos have burrowed inextricably into the white porcelain god in each of our homes that each and every one of us pay homage and bow to once, maybe twice, and in these blasphemous australian days, more times than can be counted on head-shoulders-knees-and-toes-knees-and-toes..... jon jacob jingleheimers schmidt, thats my name too

flatulence: (def) the vaporized shit molecules descended down into and out of the gastro-intestinal tract via a duct known as the mouth, which fuels its great ally, the anus, with this flatulence of which we speak, the bellowing tunes that sound from the sweetest of places

so yes, there has been much farting, much discussion of our parental roles, "dropping the kids off at the pool", and there has been record kept in what we like to call our Log Log, or log squared if you will, though usually, these logs of which we speak are not square... in fact, often times, especially after a large indian meal, they have absolutely no shape at all

so there you have it, a taste of the madness of words that has ensued since i have reached australia, to be united with one of my best friends from college who breeds in me, and i in him, the most nonsensical and profuse stream-of-consciousness form of communication there is... from the moment i hurriedly body-checked and backpack-checked all the people on my airport bus out of the way to tackle this igor off his feet, we have chatted like (wo)men in a knitting circle... and often times, it consists of the nothing that i have primed you for at the inception of this post.... the birth of post (oh lord dont let it run away from me again).... we wake each other up like dogs, jumping on top of each others beds and giving one another the "1-2-3 clear!" shock that hospitals use to revive heart-attack patients.... we are like mexican jumping beans, without rhyme or reason bouncing off of walls, constantly brewing some sort of mischeviousness and exploding (both literally and figuratively) when enough pressure has been built up.... and we ahve good conversations too, about books and life, and the attentativeness and epiphanies of observation, about the personal shifts weve watch each other take, and so much more... and it is soooo soo immeasuraable good... and we get giddy like tricycles at the thought of what we are about to do for the next three months together...

so far, we have gone to the horse races, had shopping cart carnage, been in a perpetual search for happy hour, i have fallen into rose bushes and woken up with van gough ear and unexplained injuries, wrestled on the side of the street, contorted a car's rearview mirror into a BEERview mirror, met up with friends and followed them around campus going to free events with bbqs, pretending as though we, like them, are students (which poses a problem if we actually try to interact with anyone), and romped around town looking to buy a car and find our way out of this urban tangle in hopes of tangling ourselves in the bush... and after a series of days that seemed to never end, we plugged back home with success, great success (not just in pooping matters).....

we've bought a ford falcon, 91 station wagon that is a bloody tank.... its sturdy, in good condition, and we bought it for $1750 aussie dollars, in hopes dragging it through the stretches of red desert, rain forest, white sand beaches, and then selling it for more than we paid for, by fabricating the louis voittonomics of inflated prices..... we'll see how that goes... we've been absolutely terrified of the strange beasts that roam this country, and thus, much to the humor of the natives here who find it quite cliche that the americans are looking for a gun, we have been in search of a weapon to defend ourselves iwth... yesterday we came home from the market with a 1 meter axe in our grocery bag....

oh, and more random stretching friendships accross the world, i just spend the evening with asha and ramneek (my brother and sister, and fellow walnutty-ans) out ON THE PISS last night (out on the piss, for those of you who cant decipher this upside down version of english, means going out to bars, and well, you know...) twas wonderful

so, on the the ABYSS.... we're gearing up to go across half or more of australia in our "i-think-i-can van", taking the neccessary precautions, buying the things we need and getting advice from the locals... we leave tomorrow (sat) so i thought i would send a hello and good bye, see you on the flip side of the moon kind of post. out there, its about as barren as the dark side of the moon, so houston, the blog-nog will be put on hold until further notice (two weeks or so)

it is what we do, and to never AXE why....
your muddy muddled ashmud

Carving my way through the (fiord)Land of Giants

on the wings (and tails) the last leg of my adventure, i decided that, were i to be suddenly and slyly transformed into an aMiNal, i would be the bastard product of a monkey and a penguin, both playfully and brilliantly mischevious while, at the same time, chill, awkward, and dedicated to keeping those close to me warm and insulated with blubber... (which of course explains why i fill this blog with lies and rants of the imagination) i keeed i keeed

but to tell you the truth, it feels like i have just returned from some imaginary land that humans have yet not touched, some foreign planet where ice swims among mountains, carves them into daunting landscapes that trivialize the man-sculpted works we revere so dearly... and at the end of each of those six days, that planet held me in the midst of its most prized works, engulfed me , hugged by this ever-changing earth, wondering how in *bloody 'ell* any of it is possible and why giants dont exist to help make more sense of the size of things happening there....

i got into queenstown, which was a beautiful, expensive ski resort town that is littered with lots of shops and restaurants, but also scattered with glass blue waterfronts and wonderfully inviting trees that just kind of put an arm around you.... rented a car by myself, and went on my merry way to the glaciers, which are ridiculous and made so much more sense of places like yosemite and how they happened, did a snowy hike, and then wandered around small villages, had beer and watched rugby with bloated old men and then proceeded to sleep in my car to make the expense seem more worthwhile.... got to a really nice lake town the next morning to sky dive, but instead found rain and a pensive french girl.... sooo.... i decided to go !!snowboarding!! on the last day of the season out here, climbing dirt roads in my puttering little nissan sunny only to tumble down the snow-blanketed ones on my my little bum bummy..... soooo goood.... it my first, last, best and only day of the season.... met some german lift operators and had a fluffly blast.... then met the french girl and some friends of hers at a movie theater (that served beer and cookies!! not together though) to watch a twisted new zealand movie about the sexual discovery of a rollie-pollie young lad who likes wearing wigs.... from there, headed out to milford sound, which is actually a fiord (glacier carved valley that is then backfilled with ocean water) , for which i have no words but soon pictures.... so incredibly strange and entertaingly enlightening... i was traveling with that same french girl, Alexsandra, and we did a cruise, picking up a fantastic spanish/portugese guy who has the exact same travel plans and ideas as i, and with whom i clicked immediately, got to practice spanish with, and most definately intend on running into like an unknowingly car-trapped bumblebee does to the window: repeatedly, and each time with a dumbfounded bit of surprise....

so anyway, dropped them off in queenstown, had a night of profuse drinking from tea kettles and outpouring our happiness to have made such close friends so coincidentally and so far away from home.... im back in auckland, drinking fantastic tequila with a mexican from jalisco, waiting for a flight to australia to meet with my lovely russian drandulyetka (for those of you unacquainted with the russian ways, that means peice of shit car) who goes by the name of IGOR!!! very stoked to have a familiar face and the ridiculosities of our complete loss of internal monologue when in any proximity of each other....

so thats that.... been feeling awfully well, healthy, and loved, thanks to the response of so many of you.... keep you own updates coming....

love wisping through the clouds to you all

The Rivers Meet in New Zealand

So, after what was supposed to be a grueling flight across the vast pacific that turned out to be a cake walk, or rather, a 10 hour nap on the comforting teddy bear shoulder of an oversized, extended seatbelt Maori New Zealander by the name of Jason, who kindly let me snore and drool on his shoulder in apologetic compensation for using half of my seat as overflow for his rotund happy belly, I HAVE ARRIVED IN NEW ZEALAND. It began on a bit of a dischordant note where things just wouldn't fall into place. I knew i had to make the most of my limited time here, and in doing so pished away too much of it trying to force the issue. But its gotten far better since.

I landed in Auckland on Saturday the first of October, and notice it\ bore strange resemblance to Vancouver, with of course a Kiwi twist (kiwi is the self-proclaimed blanket term for all New Zealanders).... I then fell into the pit of the "tv lounge" which harbors all things mindless and boring, found myself in some aimless hair salon chatter with two well fed girls from America (texas i think).... i found some fun canadians though, wandered around the city, which is small and for the most part a city just like any other.... parks, flea markets, etc.... they were cool, but they took off to go farm cucumbers... yup... kyoooks of the cumber.....

anyway, so this Maori fella fromthe plane gave me his address and phone number, so i woke in the morning intent on seeing what it was like to live in new zealand... fo weel newga!! (i make it sound like it was an easy decision, but you know me... i spent about half a day deliberating over it... indecision will be the death of me).... so anyway, i stopped in a thermovolcanic area called rotorua on the way, when my troubles with people void of personality lingered.....once again, the TV lounge.... BLAAST!!!! after an unexpectedly exciting few hours of wandering around the streets of this suburbian strip trying to hitch a ride to some hot springs, i gave up and just walked around the golf course and couldnt quite figure out what to do with myself... it was peaceful, but not quite the way i had imagined the trip's beginnings, so i got a little frustrated and began to regret my decision in auckland to wander around aimlessly down in the bay of plenty as the call it... and the bane of my existence, the TV lounge was in full effect when i came home... asked fools if they were down to go out to eat and grab a beer to lubricate our social demons, but i was met with blank stares and ugly faces.... everyone is ugly in the glow of a tv screen.... and it was raining outside too

so i woke up determined to change my flight and head down to fiordland in the south, but i was thwarted... blast!!! no such luck.... so i rushed to catch a random shuttle and thought i would make something of this land of leaking bowels and steaming buttholes that we call volcanic activity.... and as i sat on the bus and entered my third journal entry, i got really lonely and upset that i wasnt doing my best to make of my situation whatever i could... and then, on the verge of a breakdown originating in the armpit and festering up to the corner of my eyes, i remembered what jen had told me after her travels in europe.... "panta rai" she said... which was latin for "let it flow".... and folks, that was the pivot upon which all things mindful turned.... in no time i found myself shying back from bubbling mud pools and in awe of my first glimpse of a geyser.... and then, as i got dropped off at the attraction, i decided to wander down the road to a spot someone had told me about..... took off my shoes and all my clothes and jumped into a place where two streams, one hot one cold came together, and mingled in a lagoon... and mee, i mingled madly..... i had it all to myself, drooped over by an umbrella of strange, hanging new zealand trees, bathing in the hot waters from inner earth, checking out mini sulfur gaves, singing with the birds at themoment that the sun gifted me with a ray for a spotlight, and entirely engulfed in the beautifully eerie mist that seems to come together when opposite worlds meet.....needless to say, it was a good day...

then i hopped on a bus to whakatane to see my maori buddy.... staying in a quaint hostel, rented a bike and just chilled amongst fisherman of this wonderfully intimate beach town where everyone knows each other... and i went on a search, planting little clues in the community areas in the town in hopes that jason would emerge out of a sewer or something... had one too many beers comped for me by a bartender at an irish pub, who turned out to be the most uninteresteding person i have ever met in my entire life.... she took me to the beach a drive over the hill and did not have anything to say to any of the questions i asked her... the longest conversation we had was me explained to her what government does, and the differences between capitalism and communism...

but, i persisted in my maori hunt, showered off beach grim in the sink of a KFC, and finally found jason at his university, where his teacher invited me into their class, where they were having a discussion aobut their trip to america and what they notice culuturally that was different from their maori community.... it was gnar gnar.... yipee school again... how ive missed classes and all that jazz....

anyway, much more happened, we grabbed beers and became lifelong homeys, he gave me a traditional clay flute that i am still try8ing to learn to play, and then saw me off on a bus to auckland, had an eventful night with some girls from austria, norway and amsterdam (this one almost dreadlocked my hair for me, but fell asleep after two glasses of wine instead)..... the next day (today) i caught a flight down to the mysterious planet of new zealands south island.... im in queenstown now, and it is a ridiculous landscape... pictures are too come... ive rented a car and am looking for people to share the costs.... im going to head out to the fiords, glaciers and penguin beaches if all goes well.... more to come soon...

i love you all and miss you interminably.... i keep turning around thinking i hear one of you call out my name and that ill have someone to share this madness with..... i almost cry with the prospect of stumbling upon one of you.... and soon.... i will.... igor, you lousy son of a bitch ill see you in a week. (sorry for all the profane things i may write now and in the future, but i refuse to censor any/most of the things i am trying to share with you... if you wish to receive an edited version of these mails, have your people talk to my people... no i can arrange that if you so please...)

adios amigos