This blog is as the title reads, it is dedicated to awesomeness. And quite namely Laser Tag.
But first I will mention what went on this week: very little, then Hillary came and it was a lot of fun. We went to a pirate club, another awesome thing.
The rest of this will be dedicated to laser tag, it has a very high position on the list of awesomeness. It ranks up there with cheeseburgers and the internet. I discovered this website, which can be found here. Not only does it have facts, records, computer back grounds, and a list major laser tag events. It includes a comprehensive list of all the laser tag arenas in Europe. From this I found one very close to my university, and I'm ready to compare my skills to the best in Madrid. Or quite possibly the best children in Madrid. Now I only have to find a time to go. This week I have to somehow get a team preparation ready for Tuesday, turn in an assignment, and study for a test in my hardest class. So probably no laser tag this week, but at least I now have the knowledge needed for some Spanish laser tag. It is also important to note that the only two languages available on this site are English and Russian.
In my excitement I found this epic commercial for a home laser tag system. Imagine a future not so distant, when the world has destroyed all of its weapons, the major sporting games have collapsed, all that remains for entertainment is... laser tag. After watching it I realized I owned this same laser tag system as a child. I love it.
Stadium not included.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
A Barc-adventure
At 12:30 a.m. Thursday morning, my friend Esmier and I ordered tickets for an 8:30 a.m. flight of the same day for Barcelona, Spain. I had found a concert of a band I really enjoy, The Sounds, for later that night a while back, but we didn't make the decision to actually go until the day before. It seemed like a good enough reason to go. We couldn't pre-order tickets, so if we got in great, if not we were sure we could find something to do. I mean it is Barcelona right? Well so the adventure began.
Soon after the purchase, a short flight, and long bus ride we finally made it to Barcelona. We found that our hostel seemed to be right in the middle of everything, so that was quite convienent. That day we meet up with a friend of Esmier and explored the Parque Guell (my first experience to the architect Guadi) before heading over to the place the concert was at. We had asked our hostel people for directions, so we were pretty sure we knew where it was, but unfortunatelly I couln't remember the name. Razz-a-something... That didn't help, but we did manage to find it. It was a club, Razzmatazz, located in a wearhouse district, the perfect place for a rock concert. After almost getting scammed with overpriced tickets, we managed to purchase tickets for the correct price and make our way in. We ended up on the 4th row of people and had a pretty darn good time. The crowd was having fun and because of the catchy lyrics of all of their songs, I knew most of the words to all the songs, so it made it even better.
Before the start of the concert I told Esmier the two laws of concerts. 1. You always end up behind the tallest person there and 2. A sweaty, tipsy person will break their way up to the front of the line and push their sweaty body past you to get a better seat for a group they may or may not know. Both happened within the first 10 minutes of the show. The theory even applies to European shows I guess.
Well the next day we visited the Gothic Neiborhood and walked through the old Barcelona, streets filled with history. In this neigboorhood I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that most of them were wet and smelled a little funny and that they probably have been like that for a very, very long time. But they were very interesting nontheless and made me full of of those feelings like I'm only a speck in history. But even if I'm just a speck, I'm a speck that is happy I don't have to live in wet, smelly streets. There were also several protests going on throughout the city, I wonder if it had something to do with the streets.
We ended up on the beach and took a little sun. It was obvious too cold to swim and unfortunately I failed to touch the water. I still have never been in the Medetarianian Sea. I managed to touch hundreds of year old walls, the Sangrada Familia, an Olympic Stadium, but I falied to set even one toe in the Medetranian. I'm dissapointed in myself, I'm usually big on touching important historical objects. Well I don't think the sea is going anywhere, so I'll be back for you Medetranian, don't worry.
That night we went in search for el Bosc de las Fades, a forest themed bar that was rumored to be incredible. We didn't make it there very fast. Starting about 100 feet from the actual place, we managed to look around the Gothic Neighboorhood for about 30 minutes. We started asking many people for directions and it was here that I learned a lesson that every small town kid must learn their first time in a big city. You can't really ask everyone on the street for directions. I managed to ask some of those wrong people. While searching there was a man standing on the corner who asked me if I wanted something I certainly did not want. I answered no gracias, but then asked if he knew where this place was. I mean if he was going to ask me a question, I could certainly do the same. He seemed to get a little nervous and not really know where it was. A firend of his, obviously in the same profession, came up and started to "show us the way." As he lead us he started to ask what kind of things we wanted, more stuff I definitely did not want. I realized it was a very bad idea to be following him and was very thankful we were still on a busy street, so we kind of snuck away and asked another person. But it just seems to me that men in their profession should know the back allies of the city the best. The supply chain of illegal substances must require a substantial amount of knowledge of the layout of the city. I just don't understand why they couldn't give a straight answer. We did eventually find the place, and were thankful we lived to tell the tale. And yes it was worth the search. Imagine Lord of the Rings, but instead of Frodo, there is a friendly Spanish bartender. And instead of being located in the Shire it was located in a wax musem.
Most of the next day was spent at Mountjuic, another park with the Castle of Barcelona, and at night... the Majic Fountain Show. And it is about a million times better than it sounds. For 2 hours we we enjoyed the music and visual stimulations of the MFS. The words I can type can not explain how amazing this was. That is why I made this video. Water has never been so cool.
The rest of the trip was swell and now it is back to the real world. But I did find out that Thursday is some sort of holiday, so tomorrow is pretty much Friday. And Hillary comes soon! Fun things are ahead, but I do have a midterm in a week which really could do some damage, so I'll do my best, I just hope the test writers don't do their best as well.
And I just finished the new CD by the Decemberists, those hazards of love make for good songs.
Soon after the purchase, a short flight, and long bus ride we finally made it to Barcelona. We found that our hostel seemed to be right in the middle of everything, so that was quite convienent. That day we meet up with a friend of Esmier and explored the Parque Guell (my first experience to the architect Guadi) before heading over to the place the concert was at. We had asked our hostel people for directions, so we were pretty sure we knew where it was, but unfortunatelly I couln't remember the name. Razz-a-something... That didn't help, but we did manage to find it. It was a club, Razzmatazz, located in a wearhouse district, the perfect place for a rock concert. After almost getting scammed with overpriced tickets, we managed to purchase tickets for the correct price and make our way in. We ended up on the 4th row of people and had a pretty darn good time. The crowd was having fun and because of the catchy lyrics of all of their songs, I knew most of the words to all the songs, so it made it even better.
Before the start of the concert I told Esmier the two laws of concerts. 1. You always end up behind the tallest person there and 2. A sweaty, tipsy person will break their way up to the front of the line and push their sweaty body past you to get a better seat for a group they may or may not know. Both happened within the first 10 minutes of the show. The theory even applies to European shows I guess.
Well the next day we visited the Gothic Neiborhood and walked through the old Barcelona, streets filled with history. In this neigboorhood I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that most of them were wet and smelled a little funny and that they probably have been like that for a very, very long time. But they were very interesting nontheless and made me full of of those feelings like I'm only a speck in history. But even if I'm just a speck, I'm a speck that is happy I don't have to live in wet, smelly streets. There were also several protests going on throughout the city, I wonder if it had something to do with the streets.
We ended up on the beach and took a little sun. It was obvious too cold to swim and unfortunately I failed to touch the water. I still have never been in the Medetarianian Sea. I managed to touch hundreds of year old walls, the Sangrada Familia, an Olympic Stadium, but I falied to set even one toe in the Medetranian. I'm dissapointed in myself, I'm usually big on touching important historical objects. Well I don't think the sea is going anywhere, so I'll be back for you Medetranian, don't worry.
That night we went in search for el Bosc de las Fades, a forest themed bar that was rumored to be incredible. We didn't make it there very fast. Starting about 100 feet from the actual place, we managed to look around the Gothic Neighboorhood for about 30 minutes. We started asking many people for directions and it was here that I learned a lesson that every small town kid must learn their first time in a big city. You can't really ask everyone on the street for directions. I managed to ask some of those wrong people. While searching there was a man standing on the corner who asked me if I wanted something I certainly did not want. I answered no gracias, but then asked if he knew where this place was. I mean if he was going to ask me a question, I could certainly do the same. He seemed to get a little nervous and not really know where it was. A firend of his, obviously in the same profession, came up and started to "show us the way." As he lead us he started to ask what kind of things we wanted, more stuff I definitely did not want. I realized it was a very bad idea to be following him and was very thankful we were still on a busy street, so we kind of snuck away and asked another person. But it just seems to me that men in their profession should know the back allies of the city the best. The supply chain of illegal substances must require a substantial amount of knowledge of the layout of the city. I just don't understand why they couldn't give a straight answer. We did eventually find the place, and were thankful we lived to tell the tale. And yes it was worth the search. Imagine Lord of the Rings, but instead of Frodo, there is a friendly Spanish bartender. And instead of being located in the Shire it was located in a wax musem.
Most of the next day was spent at Mountjuic, another park with the Castle of Barcelona, and at night... the Majic Fountain Show. And it is about a million times better than it sounds. For 2 hours we we enjoyed the music and visual stimulations of the MFS. The words I can type can not explain how amazing this was. That is why I made this video. Water has never been so cool.
The rest of the trip was swell and now it is back to the real world. But I did find out that Thursday is some sort of holiday, so tomorrow is pretty much Friday. And Hillary comes soon! Fun things are ahead, but I do have a midterm in a week which really could do some damage, so I'll do my best, I just hope the test writers don't do their best as well.
And I just finished the new CD by the Decemberists, those hazards of love make for good songs.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Misplaced Eyes
So doing this blog has been a lot of fun, but there are a lot of fun things to do in Spain and sleep is fun as well. These factors make it difficult to do the blog everyday, or consistently every week. From the observations I've made, the equation looks like this:
F(blog) < F(Spain) + F(Sleep)
*F being the function of fun
But I'll do my best to catch you up.
I spent the greater part of last week getting over my cold, but luckily the cough/all around sick feelings went away by the end of the week. But during my week of sickness, something very, very strange came to pass. I was riding the metro home from school one day and I looked at the row in front of me and noticed that a man had gotten out a certain amount of an illegal substance and was proceeding it roll it into a form that could be smoked. It was something very funny to see on the metro, as there are no-smoking signs everywhere and there is just no need for "no smoking illegal things signs," but some people may need them. I began to laugh to myself, needing affirmation that this was actually funny I started to look around to see if anyone else noticed. I made eye contact with the guy right in front of me and we both laughed, but that turned out to be a mistake. After one laugh I assumed it would go back to the status quo avoiding eye contact game known as riding the metro, but he persisted. Not knowing what to do I dodged my eyes around, but he was sitting right in front of me and there was no avoiding it. I didn't quite understand and just thought that he must have thought the weed smoking man was much funnier than I did, but I turned out to be very wrong.
I got off at my stop and began to walk the wrong direction, so I turned around and noticed the eye guy was right behind me. I walked past him, but he changed directions too. He hung up his phone and began to talk to me. Thinking he wanted to laugh more about the weed man, I went along with the conversation. To my surprise he never mentioned the man and started asking me where I'm from, how long I'm in town, if I want to hang out, etc... After declining several times, because of having plans with friends, and after a few choice words of his I realized he had very, very different intentions that I originally believed. The adrenaline must have rushed to my brain, because in some of the best Spanish I think I've ever used I began to explain how I never meant to give him the wrong impression, I was making eye contact about the weed man, I didn't intend to imply certain things by laughing, and so on. He applogized for the confusion and I quickly left. I spent the next few times on the metro looking at either the ground or my feet.
Lesson learned: never make eye contact with another male on the metro. Even if there is a fire look down and run.
Well even after that strange encounter I still had a very fun weekend. Friday night I went with my Finnish friends, and Sandro (Swiss) to a salsa club. Although we weren't the only ones our age there, we were at least 10 years younger than the average age. Not knowing more than the basic step, I was determined to try. That night I danced with more women closer to the age of my mother than me, but it was okay because they were the best dancers. But it was a little embarrasing when they would say "listen to the music" and I would have to respond, "I'm trying!" For me the dancefloor was a dangerfield of misplaced toes, knees, and elbows. But I tried, I had fun, and I'm pretty sure I made the night of several ladies who danced with someone close to the age of their sons.
Well this week has been cold, rainy, and dark. I need some sun again. Watchmen comes tomorrow and I'm very excited about that. But I can't get into that now, because I need to do some homework, so adios until next time.
F(blog) < F(Spain) + F(Sleep)
*F being the function of fun
But I'll do my best to catch you up.
I spent the greater part of last week getting over my cold, but luckily the cough/all around sick feelings went away by the end of the week. But during my week of sickness, something very, very strange came to pass. I was riding the metro home from school one day and I looked at the row in front of me and noticed that a man had gotten out a certain amount of an illegal substance and was proceeding it roll it into a form that could be smoked. It was something very funny to see on the metro, as there are no-smoking signs everywhere and there is just no need for "no smoking illegal things signs," but some people may need them. I began to laugh to myself, needing affirmation that this was actually funny I started to look around to see if anyone else noticed. I made eye contact with the guy right in front of me and we both laughed, but that turned out to be a mistake. After one laugh I assumed it would go back to the status quo avoiding eye contact game known as riding the metro, but he persisted. Not knowing what to do I dodged my eyes around, but he was sitting right in front of me and there was no avoiding it. I didn't quite understand and just thought that he must have thought the weed smoking man was much funnier than I did, but I turned out to be very wrong.
I got off at my stop and began to walk the wrong direction, so I turned around and noticed the eye guy was right behind me. I walked past him, but he changed directions too. He hung up his phone and began to talk to me. Thinking he wanted to laugh more about the weed man, I went along with the conversation. To my surprise he never mentioned the man and started asking me where I'm from, how long I'm in town, if I want to hang out, etc... After declining several times, because of having plans with friends, and after a few choice words of his I realized he had very, very different intentions that I originally believed. The adrenaline must have rushed to my brain, because in some of the best Spanish I think I've ever used I began to explain how I never meant to give him the wrong impression, I was making eye contact about the weed man, I didn't intend to imply certain things by laughing, and so on. He applogized for the confusion and I quickly left. I spent the next few times on the metro looking at either the ground or my feet.
Lesson learned: never make eye contact with another male on the metro. Even if there is a fire look down and run.
Well even after that strange encounter I still had a very fun weekend. Friday night I went with my Finnish friends, and Sandro (Swiss) to a salsa club. Although we weren't the only ones our age there, we were at least 10 years younger than the average age. Not knowing more than the basic step, I was determined to try. That night I danced with more women closer to the age of my mother than me, but it was okay because they were the best dancers. But it was a little embarrasing when they would say "listen to the music" and I would have to respond, "I'm trying!" For me the dancefloor was a dangerfield of misplaced toes, knees, and elbows. But I tried, I had fun, and I'm pretty sure I made the night of several ladies who danced with someone close to the age of their sons.
Well this week has been cold, rainy, and dark. I need some sun again. Watchmen comes tomorrow and I'm very excited about that. But I can't get into that now, because I need to do some homework, so adios until next time.
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