And I usually respond, “Well, it’s complicated, and hard to explain. Sort of like trying to explain God. Or water.”

But I get asked this question so often, along with so many other LP-related questions, that I thought now might be a good time to issue an LP-FAQ. Especially with an LP Public coming up next week (and next month! it is so exciting, isn’t it, when a date is both next week AND next month? it’s a circumstance so exquisite & lovely, it’s almost miraculous. Like God. Or water.).

(Ahem: Tuesday, July 6th, at our very own KSW! 1246 Folsom! 6.30pm! Yay!)

So, here it is. Your Frequently Asked Questions about Laundry Party, finally answered.

LP FAQ (#1 in a series of unknown quantity)

In this FAQ:
What’s a Laundry Party?
I heard that LPs usually feature multidisciplinary art presentations at various stages of development, scintillating discussion & vigorous debate, free booze, random hookups, meaningless and/or meaningful sex, food, socially awkward moments, pathos, and celebrity sightings. Is that true?
Who is featured at this upcoming LP?
When are you going to stop using that “like God. or water.” joke? it’s getting old.
Why are you getting defensive?
Why is Laundry Party so awesome?
Can I be part of Laundry Party?
What’s a Laundry Party?
I know, but you said you’d provide a longer version at the end of this FAQ.

What’s a Laundry Party?
Good question! Laundry Party is a laidback, multidisciplinary salon-style series that takes place in LP-people’s living rooms, and occasionally at your neighborhood bar, cafe, and/or arts nonprofit organization. See below for a longer description!

^ top

I heard that LPs usually feature multidisciplinary art presentations at various stages of development, scintillating discussion & vigorous debate, free booze, random hookups, meaningless and/or meaningful sex, food, socially awkward moments, pathos, and celebrity sightings. Is that true?
Uh. Some of it. I don’t know. Like, half of that’s true. I mean, maybe it’s all true? I haven’t been to all of them. Have I been missing out? In any case, this LP Public on 7/1 will feature everything above except for the random hookups & sex parts; this is a family friendly event, kids.

^ top

Who is featured at this upcoming LP?
So many amazing people are featured at this upcoming LP Public, it defies the imagination. Like God. Or water.
The line-up includes: Allan Manalo, Cathlin Goulding, Derek Chung, Isaac Hill, Jim Espinas/Bantercut, Mahru Elahi, Melissa Hung (showing work featuring The Invisible Cities), Samantha Chanse, Yasmine Gomez

^ top

When are you going to stop using that “like God. or water.” joke? it’s getting old.
Uh, I already did. I stopped. That last time was the last time. Okay?

^ top

Why are you getting defensive?
I’m not. I’m not getting defensive. Why do you think I’m getting defensive?

^ top

Why is Laundry Party so awesome?
I think I speak for Everyone In The World when I say: the question is, “Why isn’t it awesome?”

^ top

Can I be part of Laundry Party?
Yes! Just email laundryparty (at) gmail (dot) com. Uh, and if that doesn’t work, email me at laundryparty (at) whiskeyandacigarette (dot) org.

^ top

What’s a Laundry Party?
You already asked me that.

^ top

I know, but you said you’d provide a longer version at the end of this FAQ.
Oh. Right. Sorry. My bad.
Laundry Party is a laidback, multidisciplinary salon-style series that takes place in LP-people’s living rooms, and occasionally at your neighborhood bar, cafe, and/or arts nonprofit organization. Founded in January 2009 by a couple of San Francisco artists looking for mini-deadlines and more opportunities to bask in community glow, LP has since expanded its sphere of activity to encompass New York City. Now a bicoastal laidback, multidisciplinary salon-style series for people with projects at various stages of development (and/or for people who support people with projects [PWP]), LP takes place on either coast a couple times a month, give or take a time, and every so often goes public.

^ top

okay. here concludes LP FAQ #1.

i can do shit like that; it was my pledge/promise. i feel totally Justified.

but two things!

so there are some bars to which i am deeply indebted, for a number of reasons. for instance, some bars have five-dollar maker’s mark; some bars let you smoke (hardly any now, though, and i suppose that’s why they’re precious, since i wouldn’t want all bars to allow people to smoke, anyway); some bars are reliably not packed & annoying even on fridays & saturdays, but still somehow manage to stay in business; some bars have outdoor patios which are lovely.

and some bars let humans do cool events there for free.

so i had two experiences this weekend with Bars To Which I Am Indebted & Of Which I Am Enamored for that particular reason:

1. Ding Dong Lounge hosted a brilliant event yesterday/saturday called May Day, an all-day-into-night small press/zine expo that also had a line up of readers/performers. i was fortunate enough to be included in that line up. but the day overall was wonderful, and i thoroughly enjoyed hearing people’s work, handling people’s very exciting publications (that sounded dirty &/or creepy, although i didn’t mean it that way), and meeting good peoples. the organizers run their own presses, including Fractious Press and Kaboom! Press.

and here’s a link about the event: http://maydaydingdong.blogspot.com/

the folks who work at Ding Dong are also some of my favorite peoples. i’m just saying.

2. Botanica Bar hosted an event of my friends’ & my devising, laboriously entitled “3people + Laundry Party Public = People Doing Stuff at Botanica Bar.”

okay, so the formula/equation part of it was added pretty much at the event itself, but i think it still counts. i think we were billing it as “people doing stuff at botanica bar” and then explaining that it was 3people & LP public. but these are just details…i don’t think anyone cares but me, about the actual math. but i care. and my caring will somehow, somewhere, have an impact. or something.

3people consisted of theater artist Julia May Jonas, poet & editor Jocelyn Burrell, and me. we all did new stuffs, so it was totally Fresh and Raw and Dynamic and Innovative and Groundbreaking and all those adjectives that make art sound fundable. the bar was blissfully empty except for people there for the event and the bartender (not because the bar’s unpopular, but because people generally don’t start arriving until 9pm, when karaoke starts at botanica. the karaoke DJ at botanica, by the way, is in my opinion top notch). Botanica let us use their elegant & sumptuous backroom (uh, sumptuous by cool dive bar standards, natch), so we all felt very cozy & cared for & authentically nyc-dive-barry. okay, no one said that, or expressed anything like that at all, but i feel like putting words & thoughts in other people’s mouths, without any justification or basis at all. because i’m in a rush, which causes me to make sloppy summations of events (like, you know, capturing a mood for the evening,which should never be done in a sloppy fashion, but i’m doing it anyway. i Fail.).

and then we moved into Laundry Party Public portion of night, after an invigorating intermission, and poet & fiction writer Bushra Rehman read, and Derek Chung presented his Volunteer Crew presentation, and writer Nina Sharma read, followed by Warren Tong, and Torrey Townsend, and Quincy Scott Jones.

and it was a lovely night, although i sadly couldn’t stay for the karaoke starting up, but i think i can (this time) quite safely & accurately say that people overall were Inspired & shit.

cheers to all the cool bars.

my friend Tom Connors & i made a music video to submit to the CAAM/KSW/Locus DIY music video contest. the music video is for the bantercut song “everything is going right”; bantercut being a now bicoastal band that includes bassist Jim Espinas, guitarist Ian Johnson, and me.

Jim & Ian made a video for another bantercut tune, “when it’s cold.”

the video with the most views by March 3rd wins a spot in the 28th San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival, produced by the Center for Asian American Media.

Oh the Potential Honor; the Potential Glory.

Please to visit www.asianamericanmedia.org/videos to view “everything is going right”, “when it’s cold”, and the other videos in the contest.

& if you feel so inclined, please rate the video after watching.

If you’re innerested, please to visit http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/bantercut for more information about the bantercut album.

The first entry for the word on Dictionary.com told me, not very helpfully (but intriguingly), that “liminal” was an adjective meaning “of, pertaining to, or situated at the limen”; leading me to find (belatedly in life, since I don’t know why I didn’t already know this) that the word “limen” means “threshold.”

And, interestingly enough, Prague/Praha also means “threshold.”

So. I am writing from the airport in Prague, a liminal space in a liminal space. It’s a crazy hall of mirrors or something!

Anyway, the entry is intriguing, and I could wax rhapsodic & poetical & shit about how pregnant with meaning the metaphor of a threshold is, and how it’s so terribly relevant to my Meaningful Life (hey–My Meaningful Life would be a great band name. seriously. I want cash for coming up with that), but I won’t do that, here; there are other places for that, like journals and bar napkins.

I will say that I love liminal spaces–and I can now confidently use that word, assured that I am fully aware of its meaning and etymology–and that the prospect of traveling for another full day is something I rather look forward to, just in terms of having the time to let my brain breathe a bit. Also, I need to work on revising a draft of a script that was due yesterday (which I sent! but it needs work), so after getting this post done, I will turn to that.

Now I want to rewrite the entire thing and make it about liminal spaces. But that can be another script.

Anyway: clearly I missed several days of Underread Bloggery, but sometimes it’s okay, I think, not to document every moment, constantly. I mean, I was documenting in my head, and penning brilliant posts in my mind, for later writing&uploading-to-site, so in some ways I was documenting every moment. Just not publicly. That’s okay; now I don’t feel horribly overexposed.

Here are three random things I have loved about Prague, because three is always a good number, and I should put a limit to this, for this particular post:

1. becoming somewhat familiarized with the Czech language, and learning (in a supremely basic, caveman-level sort of way) how letters operate differently in terms of pronunciation, creating the sounds that are characteristic of the Czech language. for instance, š is pronounced “sh”, so the word Vyšehrad is pronounced “Vish-ey-rod” (roughly; there’s a lot more going on there, of course); and c’s (without any diacritical marks) are pronounced “tz”, so hruškovice is pronounced “HROOSHkoVITZay” (again, horribly roughly). I love that, and I love learning about it, and reading language in a new way, and speaking in a new way. Not that I could speak much, but still; reading language and letters in new ways with new rules is very awesome (Vyšehrad and hruškovice will come up in #2 and #3).

2. the bells of Vyšehrad – holy shit, I have never, ever heard church bells that have moved me like the bells at Vyšehrad, the original royal palace/castle in Prague (and the site where, legend has it, Princess Libuše prophesied that a great city [ahem: praha] would rise one day. she also scorned other royal suitors and married a lowly ploughman, or something, and together around 500 A.D. or so they started the P?emsyl dynasty that would rule Bohemia for 400 years, or so) – there’s a lovely cemetery in Vyšehrad, and to be in that place as the bells ring (the bells ring out as part of Smetana’s Vysehrad symphony: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trgCZrgL4Ws)

I went to Vyšehrad with my friend and her sister the first day I was in Prague; my friend and I returned yesterday, to catch the noon bells. Fucking amazing. Google that shit and find a recording of the bells. Or I will be uploading a crappy audio track once my friend sends it to me.

3. The quiet of Prague at bars, even though the bars are full (and at restaurants). It’s not like silence, but people just speak more intensely and softly here; there’s no loud shouting and speaking as is customary in the states. Again, people are very alive and involved and engaged, but the volume level is turned way down, without at all compromising the life and energy of the place. In fact, the lower levels of speaking in general somehow contribute to a greater intensity. But that’s just me fetishizing & exotifying Prague, again. At bars, I appreciate the Czech spirits like Hrusovice, a spirit from pears. I have some in my luggage; hopefully it survives the plane

which I must now go to board. more on this later, I imagine. But I always say that.

1. Berlin Public Transportation = In God’s Image, Probably, If You’re Into That Sort Of In-God’s-Image Thing.

It seems the one-liner has been built into the title: but one of many things I love about Berlin’s trains are the cool little buttons that are easily depressed when a rider wants in or out, and which light up very excitingly whenever the train arrives at a station. (I have tried, in vain, to insert a helpful photo here, but for some reason my attempts have failed. Apparently, I suck at digital camera technology from five years ago.)

2. Holy Shit, After Two Days Here, I Still Don’t Speak or Understand German.

It’s true! And for some reason, that small detail interfered with my ability to “get” the two All German Plays I saw tonight at the Schaubühne and two nights ago at the Volksbühne—but what’s “getting it” mean when it comes to Art, right? and I still got to step onto a jangling beach of shining coppery and silvery coins tonight as I walked to my seat. So I wasn’t sweating comprehension. (crap. that’s way more than a one-liner. I guess I suck at brevity, too, especially when rushing.)

3. Hey, Europe’s Full Of White People!

Also true! I’ve spotted a few POCs, although most of the Asian brothers and sisters I’ve seen have been working at flower and fruit stands, not, say, getting a drink at the bar or taking in a night of Theater. However, I haven’t really been out much, nor have I conducted any legitimate research on the subject, so I can’t draw any conclusions. I mean, I can, but they’d be totally groundless, which I know doesn’t stop a lot of people from drawing conclusions, but I’ve got integrity & shit. Really.

4. I’ve Got Integrity & Shit.

I just felt it deserved its own item number; no one gives me enough credit for this one, so I’ll give myself credit. Giving oneself credit is a hella integriful thing to do.

5. Beer Is Cheap, And Yet I Still Insist On Whiskey!

The Beers Of Berlin (and Prague) are totally wasted on me. I did try some, but I just couldn’t stick with it long enough to experience the magic.

6. I Almost Purchased Artwork From A New Yorker Ex-Pat Today!

I really liked the piece; but then I figured that would be sort of ridiculous. And I’m trying not to really spend money on this trip aside from the whole transportation & eating/drinking thing. The lucky few will get a postcard; and I did purchase chocolate for my parents, because they’re really into that antioxidant chocolate thing, and I sort of owe them for, you know, bringing me into the world & shit (now you all know who’s responsible).

7. My Lineage Spotted on Schoenhauser Straße!

And speaking of who’s responsible, I descend, on one side of my family, from a long line of swiss-german bookbinders. I would have gone in and said “Mutter, Vater: Ich habe wieder!” or something like that. But the store was closed, and I don’t speak German (see #2).

(Uh, I had a photo here, too, but same problem. Numbers 1 & 7 totally aren’t being presented as they should be.)

Okay. Tomorrow I head back to Prague. I get to ride the Deutsche Bahn again: joy.

Later that night, my friends and I stumbled through the snow and several crowded pubs with no room for us, until we finally settled on a giant pilsner house place that used to be a place where people were executed by hanging (I can’t think of the word for this). People there had giant hamhocks on their plates, to accompany their beer. I have a picture, but now I’m realizing I have to run to catch a show tonight at Volksbuhne in Berlin.

I got to Berlin late this morning. I love the public transportation here—it’s a bit dreamy, if you’re into good public transportation, as am I.

Here’s a picture, for your viewing pleasure:

ah forget it, not working, and no time to troubleshoot.

off to see Ozean.

I’ve also spent the last few hours cramming for Berlin, emailing friends of friends way too late for it to be of any use, and google mapping directions from the train station to the hostel to the theaters where I’ve arranged to see some shows.

I have also spent some nice quality time this morning writing introspective shit about being a tourist in a land where I can’t speak or read or understand the language, typifying the Dumb American who didn’t bother to get her act together to learn something other than english; howsumever, that introspective shit is not the kind of thing I share on these rambles, so the Gentle Reader will remain ignorant of the exact details of said writing, and will have to be satisfied with my glossed over summary.

Oh. I was going to deal with Day 4 – and I’m sort of just discussing Day 5, which is today.

Okay, in brief, since it’s time I made some coffee and headed out:

Day 4 (yesterday, thursday, 7 january 2010)

some notes:

my friend/host, her sister (who’s also visiting now), and I walked up to Vyšehrad, a 10th century castle on a hill that features: some lovely decaying brick walls; an equally lovely (and even lush, oddly, although it was winter) cemetery (where some celebrity Czechs are buried, including Antonin Dvo?ák), which was wonderful to walk around; a gorgeous basilica restored at the turn of the last century and reopened to the public in 1992, which we almost didn’t go into because we were feeling cheap and thought you had to pay (you didn’t); a stand from which we purchased some hot wine & grog, and walked around the park in the cold sipping on hot alcoholic beverages with a humbling view of the city…it felt very decadent, which, of course, it was. Then we got a little too cold, and hopped on the metro.

I spent more time in cafes wandering from my friend’s apartment to the Archa theatre (I think in Stare Mesto neighborhood, but unsure…), where I’d planned to see a premiere of  a new dance/music/theater project called Emigrantes. I’m fairly enamored of the number and style of cafes here; I think I could probably spend my entire time here wandering around the streets and ducking into various spots, and I’d feel like it was time well spent. But castles & museums & performances/art are a nice touch, as well… the cafes just appeal to that hide-in-a-corner part of myself, that is generally at regular war with the get-on-a-stage-and-perform part of myself. For this trip, I’m content to be an observer/hider.

The performance was great, in spite of my nonexistent understanding of the Czech language. I definitely missed some critical stuff in the opening and closing monologues, delivered by one of the four child performers (it was four adults & four children)—so probably I missed, you know, the point—but the bulk of the performance was movement, with music, and I definitely enjoyed much of the choreography and general themes. I knew going in, since I’d read from the website, that the piece was about the refugee experience through the eyes of children, and that certainly came across in very basic ways. What surprised me was the rough and even violent movement duets involving an adult & child – I don’t think I’ve ever seen adult + child dancing together in a way that was so hostile and unsparing in terms of sentiment; I also enjoyed the adult duets, although it wasn’t as new or surprising to me—attempts to connect/engage/be intimate, but dealing with too many barriers to said-intimacy that the connection is inevitably foiled…ah, the trials of human alienation…The music was all performed live by two musicians who were great.

The feel actually reminded me a lot of some of the work I’ve seen at Campo Santo & Intersection for the Arts in San Francisco.

Okay, I’ll just say one more thing and then close this computer—the most surprising part of the performance at Archa was not the crazy violent/rough adult-child interaction (which again I loved, and not because I like seeing kids beat up [I know what you're thinking...], but because it was a lot more honest than other child-adult interactions I’ve seen of late, and a lot more complicated), but the applause at the end of the one-hour performance. Holy shit, the Czech people applaud. The performers came out for maybe three curtain calls, all amid completely nonstop clapping; at one point the musicians joined in; then a few people who I imagine were the director and choreographer, perhaps; then some more people joined in the curtain call, people who had taken my ticket at the door and other staff I’d seen in the building; then some random other kids ran up on the stage and joined the performers—and all the while the clapping did not stop, at all; there was some cheering, as well. I kept looking around to see if this was normal, or if the performers themselves were taken aback by the relentless show of appreciation…at one point, the clapping somehow got synchronized, and everyone clapped on the same beat in an eerie moment of audiencial conformity…then it broke down for the most part. But my god, I thought it would never end—it must have gone on for fifteen minutes, I don’t know. It was late. It was dark. I didn’t speak the language. Who knows.

Okay. Enough of this, for now.

oh! one more thing. On my way home, I passed a McDonald’s with outdoor seating, which surprised me, since it’s fucking freezing out. But then I noticed that all the tables, maybe six of them, with chairs and umbrellas over the tables, had heat lamps. McDonalds with fancy heat lamps. Right next door to a museum about communism, by the way.

Okay. now, done.

I’m adjusting to people smoking in restaurants and bars and cafes, here. I am also adjusting to illiteracy (while vainly struggling to acquire some level of literacy) although this adjustment is a bit more challenging.

Earlier today the friend who’s kindly permitting me to stay with her (after she extended an invitation of sorts to a few of her friends, probably never suspecting any of us would actually take her up on said invitation-of-sorts and invade her peaceful, Praguian life) and I were strolling around the Old Square, me sipping from a fairly sublime cup of steaming mulled wine, and while gazing up at the befamed Astronomical Clock we happened upon a tour group. The American guy leading the group turned out to be very knowledgeable and funny and engaging, and so we joined in the tour for a few stops (he encouraged passers-by to join in the free tour, so we weren’t being total assholes or anything). The Astronomical Clock does some animated shit every hour on the hour, which had happened about ten minutes before we arrived, so the guide helpfully performed a very impressive summation of what we had missed.

Prague is a beautiful city to walk around, and aside from the buildings and the castles on hills and such, there are passage ways which are basically covered alleyways/side streets connecting/intersecting the main arteries of foot and car/bus/trolley traffic. It’s basically like an underground network of secret tunnels, except it’s not underground and it’s not a secret; in fact, most of the passages are lined with businesses like any other street. But it has that, you know, totally underground feel. So you feel like you’re constantly involved in some sort of covert operation, which makes you feel mysterious and important while you’re just walking to get a coffee or just going about the general business of being a tourist. So, in other words, I’m totally exoticizing Prague. Yay me.

But really, the underground network of tunnels that isn’t actually underground makes this city very Fun for a pedestrian like myself.

I also enjoy how the streets here don’t really conform to a ninety-degree-angle-oriented grid system – the streets (and even, judging by the single apartment I’ve been in here, the homes as well) intersect at surprising angles, and even curve some, which further enriches, for me, the act of simply walking around.

Other impressions from the day: there are a ton of bridges over the Vlatava river, which I actually also noticed last night when I got into town, but things actually look different by day than they do by night; yes, it is a hard concept to get your head around, but it’s true.

The sound system is playing Jackson 5, which makes me suspect this place is geared towards ex-pats and tourists like myself (well, now I’m remembering that my friend already told me this was an ex-pat establishment, so I guess I’m just retroactively processing what was told to me a few hours ago), which is making me suspect that I like this place because it’s familiar to my lived experience, which is making me suspect that I am Boring. Great; I suck at visiting new places. I just keep gravitating towards the old grooves… I can’t help it, they’re grooves: they do have a gravitational pull. That’s not me being boring, that’s just me being human and succumbing to the laws of physics and shit. Okay, plus, I can be a little boring sometimes. Or all the time.

For lunch, we went to a place called Slavia, on the Vlatava river. I ordered the first item on the lunch menu, which was not translated into English like the regular menu. I knew the item featured pork, because my friend knew the word for pork, but the rest of it was Unknown Upon Ordering (UUO). Here’s what it said:

100g Anglická vep?ová játra, ope?ený brambor, tátarka

Okay, so she also knew that “Anglická” meant “English” and that “brambor” was potatoes and “tátarka” was tartar sauce. But overall, unsure. As it turned out, upon arrival, it was pork liver—missed that key “játra” definition. I’m not against liver dishes, but I’m not terribly excited about them, either. But it ended up working out, and in the end I determined the meal had been a Success.

Also from today: holy shit, google’s online translator is amazing (ahem: http://translate.google.com/). I was trying to navigate purchasing theater tickets in german and czech (for some theaters here in Prague, and for some in Berlin when I go in a few days), and that translator very accurately translated whole paragraphs of text, where other free online translators that shall remain nameless had failed to accurately translate even simple words and phrases. I hate being a corporate whore, but go Google.

Okay. Time to go, for now. Augh, and I still haven’t dealt with days zero and one, let alone all of days two and three; I suppose some Genius Insights will have to go unrecorded, or at least belatedly documented.

—-

(heading into oblivion, but jotting down a few things from day 2 of Ye Olde Journey)

(it’s 12:43 AM in Prague, January 6^th, technically, as I write)

Just got back from a bar in Prague where you can smoke indoors. I started with a Jameson, and switched to a Becharova, which my friend calls Christmas in a Glass. Or something to this effect. It is, in a whiskey sort of way (although I don’t think it’s whiskey).

The bar happened after we spent a while looking for an ATM, which led us on a lovely walk that started out along the Vlatava river, and took us around near the foot of a large mountain leading to Prague Castle, the foot of which (or the part we passed) is home to a monument/sculpture dedicated to the victims of communism – emaciated figures staggering eerily down steps illuminated with discs of light. From far away I saw only the lovely discs of light, and remarked upon it creating an atmosphere of inviting fairyland. The my friend pointed out the emaciated figures, and the actual substance of the lights and monument in general, and I stood corrected: not a fixture of inviting fairyland. In my defense, I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, and was/am delirious.

We wound through a very popular district whose name I’m forgetting and went to the Charles Bridge, which is very impressively fortified on either end, and which offers lovely views in all directions –

Okay, really fading now, so just a few more impressions/thoughts/memories in note form:

-       Prague is fucking beautiful.

-       Both winter and cold seem to suit Prague.

-       It’s not that cold, except when I consider it from the perspective of the hands, which truly suffer without mittens. But I have mittens. And my hands suffer without mittens in nyc, too.

-       There is good public transport here, like in London. Like in nyc.

-       I loved london in large part due to the surprising awesomeness of my Virgin Atlantic row-mate/neighbor, whom we’ll call L. (because doing so fully protects his identity while also acting as a truthful if incomplete textual representation of him, since “L” is, in fact, the real first initial of his first name). He was shockingly hospitable, inviting a total stranger to share a car ride, some croissants, and frenchpressed coffee (with steamed milk), and made me an avocado-with-marmite toasted bagel for the road, which I gradually finished over the next several hours, finishing it upon landing in Prague while still in plane; marmite + avocado bagels will forever hold a special place in my heart. Were it not for L., I would have spent eight long hours avoiding sleep in the London Heathrow airport, instead of getting homemade coffee, food, and a few hours to wander around Piccadilly circus; fortunately, I felt compelled to interrupt the calm of my fellow passenger’s descent into London by asking him if he had any suggestions as to how I might best spend a full-day’s layover in the airport. I think his rush of hospitality might have been inspired by a mixture of pity and shock at my stunning display of laziness/lack of imagination. Anyway, I am very grateful to him.

Oh crap I need to go. Really fading. Falling asleep as I type. More later.

But I will start with Day 2: right now, Tuesday, January 5th, since that’s the day it is now. Oh, I’m loopy – did I mention that? The last time I woke up from sleep was now twenty-five hours ago, and I’ve been in transit. Crap, looks like my flight is boarding…

Okay, I’ll get to this later. But the Journey has begun, and day 2 began, surprisingly, with British hospitality and marmite-avocado bagel sandwiches. and homemade coffee.

more soon. on to Prague, now…