Day 39-40: looking back at CATALUNYA

(That's Catalan for Catalonia)

Now it was starting to rain. But we were almost at the top. A little water wasn't going to hurt us. Well, it did make the rocks a bit more slippery. But we were almost at the top.

When Stefanie and I reached the summit, it was beautiful. This is why I hate sightseeing. This was experiencing. That's the best way to "view" a foreign land. We had started climbing some ancient walls that surrounded the ancient city of Girona, and then we found some trails off-the-beaten-path that took us even higher above the city. When we reached the top, the tiny city just north of Barcelona appeared glorious under the Spanish night. Unfortunately, my photos of it sucked.

Nevertheless a summary of two days in Catalonia.


Tranquil ol' Girona.


Barcelona's Arc de Triomf. The one that nobody cares about.

INFORMACION, POR FAVOR:
A summary of my two days in Catalonia.

Excelente!
Here are the highlights from Catalonia. Isn't that right voice of Spanish Mr. Burns?
-Dancing at a discotheque packed with Spanish people and American music. Too much rhythm? Perhaps but at least they weren't doing this.
-Climbing ancient walls.
-Eating traditional Spanish food (see below).
-The Dali Museum (coming in a future post).
-Spanish architecture.
-Las Ramblas during the day.
-The most immaculate subways you'll ever see are in Barcelona. It also runs all night during the weekends.
-Street performers. Everyone loves a good street performer (see below)
-The Ryanair theme song.

Ay caramba!
And of course, there were some rather disappointing parts of Catalonia. Isn't that right English-speaking Bart Simpson who uses Spanish exclamations.
-Las Ramblas at night. This was one of the biggest disappointments of the entire break. You'd think that the biggest street in Barcelona would have a wild Catalan nightlife. Instead there were just, uh, weird shops and people. Apparently we were searching in all the wrong places (you're supposed to go closer to the beach we found out afterward?) We did eventually find some discotheque, but it felt too tourist-y to me. And then I whined and feel asleep. Ay papi!
-Drinks at discotheques. Seven or eight euros for just about anything. But there are no cover chargers.
-Siestas. The whole city becomes a ghost town for two hours in the mid-afternoon.

Muy delicioso:
There's no easier way to "experience" another culture then to eat their food and spill their wine. Or as I did in a plaza in Barcelona, squirt lemon juice on the Irish guy sitting next to you. Here's what I chowed on in Catalonia.

-Paella*
-Tapas. If you order tapas get the very delicious patatas bravas (fierce potatoes). They're almost too delicious. Mom, please make me some when I return to America.
-Fried apple doughnuts covered in Catalan Creme.
-Granatxa wine. It's the most widely planted red wine grape in the world. But we drank it in Catalonia, where it originated. Oh the sweet taste of authenticity.
-Gofres con chocolate (Chocolate covered waffles). Waffles are a big time dessert in Spain. If there's one idea America should take from Espana, it's waffles for dessert. Mmmm. Isn't that right Homer Simpson?

Girona (an hour north of Barcelona)

Girona was an amazing way to kick off my fall break.* I scaled an ancient city (even though part of those fancy walls were actually part of a university), fiesta'd at an excellent Spanish nightclub (that of course blasted English music) and ate delicious tapas. Stef and I spent two days in Catalona, one in Girona and one in Barcelona, before meeting up with another roommate* in Madrid and Girona certainly surprised us with awesomeness.


A photo from either the Jewish quarter of Girona or the Arab corner. Can't remember.


The morning we left Girona, we watched natives make a sacrifice to The Burger King.


The second most popular movie currently playing in Barcelona. Behind Diario de una Ninfomana.

Before we move onto Barcelona photos it's time for:

MATT LEVIN EMBARRASSES HIMSELF TRYING TO SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE (Part 1)
Today's language: Catalan. I tried to whip out my Spanish while ordering a chocolate filled croissant at 3 am one morning. But I failed right off the bat. She kept trying to explain some mistake I made, and I wasn't getting it. It took about a minute before I realized I had paid for the croissant with two pounds.

I did find out in Madrid that even the Spanish can't make sense of Catalan. Comforting, right?

Barcelona

Barcelona also was quite amazing. Although the nightlife seemed lacking, the city center was crammed with people during the day. The famed Las Ramblas street was swarming with vendors, street performers and probably a million tourists. But enough babbling, you want a dozen photos of street performers!


Digeridoo!!!


This photo gallery should be called street performers because that's all you're seeing from here on out. Barcelona: El ciudad de actors del calle.


Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!


If you gave this performer some cash money, he'd ride a bike with a skeleton. Neat!


More street performers.


Even more street performers.


Enough street performers already!


Probably one of the better photos I've taken...of a street performer!


This was actually a pretty awesome Latin-style band. Look this guy can play his face so hard he has blisters on his fingers.


A sitar?


The middle guy was Argentinian, FYI.


The whole gang.


And this guy who loved getting his photo taken. Adios Espana.

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Foot notes

*Man, I don't think I could ever travel with more than one person at a time again. I traveled with one roommate in Spain (Stef) and one in Portugal (Will). It just simplifies everything. Three really would feel like a crowd. A stressful, stressful crowd. And the best part for Stef and Will, thanks to my brilliant switcheroo midway through the trip, they each only had to deal with me for half of the weeklong break. De nada!

*And to think, we both accidentally fell asleep in our hostel at 8 p.m. the first night and almost didn't leave our rooms at all. But at 10:30 p.m., we forced ourselves to get up and just do anything. We had no plan. And it ended up being one of the best nights of the entire break (hmm, and this scenario repeats itself in Porto). There's a lesson here. Sacrifice sleep, sacrifice animals, sacrifice whatever, but don't ever decide to do nothing when visiting a new place. Even if you have no plan, no idea where to go and you're tired....go out and explore. That's the whole point of being in another culture: Explore, try to learn something new and maybe even learn about yourself. **** sleep!

*A note about chicken in Spain. It's never boneless. Even in our chicken paella, buried under the rice were chicken wings with bone. It's kinda gross, and I don't understand if it's a cultural thing or maybe only Americans de-bonify chicken. The good news is the Spanish make the most succulent chicken on Earth.

Day 53: NON-PARTISAN BLOGGING

(You can vote however you like)

After a nice vacation and a hell week of applying for summer internships, the blog is now back. Expect updates on Spain, Portugual, art galleries and All Hallow's Eve over the next couple of days. Until, I have time for those posts, I'll just leave you with the video* below, courtesy of loyal reader Andy McCullough.



In one week, the United States will have a new president...and the whole world is watching. It's soooo close all of a sudden. But my blog is not designed to influence your political opinion. No, of course not. But I hope this video at least reminds you to fulfill your democratic duty of voting next Tuesday. Yes, get out there and vote. Just like what Andy and I won't be doing on Nov. 4.

Hmm, the message here just got slightly garbled. Whatever, we're still no worse than anybody who votes for a third party candidate.*

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Foot note

*This video is in fact an homage to the seminal T.I. song "Whatever You Like."

*Actually, loyal readers let's all vote for Constitution party candidate and Baldwin* brother, Chuck. Together we can change the outcome of the election. Baldwin / Castle '08.

*By the way, if Baldwin is a former member of the KKK or a convicted felon, I swear I had no idea. But if that's the case I'm just warning you advance. It seems 90 percent of third-party candidates are either closeted racists or tree-hugging hippies or Ross Perot.

Let's play: "BLOOD BROTHERS"

(A bloody good musical)


Is that the Arm & Hammer logo on the poster?

Before discussing my amazing fall vacation, it's time for one more play review. But don't worry, "Blood Brothers" is amazing, too. It's hyped as the best musical of the past decade, and it's hard to argue when watching Willy Russell's masterpiece that debuted in 1988.

Like "Fat Pig", however, I still can't figure out the damn cast*. Oh well, since the sound of music was excellent here and this play is one of my favorite things we'll rate it on a scale of 1-5 Dame Julie Andrews*.

FIVE ANDREW'S out of five.
Written by Willy Russell
Now playing at Phoenix Theatre
Run Time: About two hours.


Now you understand the imagery on the poster.

--
"Blood Brothers"
By Matt Levin

Two dead bodies corpses are covered, and carried off the stage. Thus, begins the tale of the Johnston twins: The story of two brothers who never knew it until the day they both died. “Blood Brothers” starts out like a dark fable—a cautionary tale.

Superstition plays a major role in the first act. The musical at the Phoenix Theatre begins with a destitute mother of seven giving up one of her newborn twins to a childless upper-class family.

Ominous music plays on the darkened stage as the aristocratic Mrs. Lyons announces to the impoverished Mrs. Johnstone that if the two separated twins ever learn of their true identity, they’ll both suddenly be struck dead.

Ah, if only it were that simple. But this play is no fairy tale. Willy Russell’s Blood Brothers is a brilliant parable on class struggle. A story on how a difference in status can create gulfs between two people who are almost literally—the same person.

From the time they are seven the underprivileged Mickey Johnston and the noble Eddie Lyons become inadvertent best friends—blood brothers once they find out they’re born on the same day.

The dude who plays Johnston gives an epic performance as he takes his character from age seven to his death about 20 years later. The dude who plays Lyons is just as solid, although with less stage time—and less mood swings than his brother.

Directors Bob Tomson and Bill Kenwright let the cast go wild early on. The music is fun, the dances are off-the-wall and sets are vibrant. The first act helps show the carefree nature of childhood before its contrasted with the harsh times of adulthood, in a much darker second act. It also establishes the relationship between the two best friends and the girl they both fall for.

Ms. Johnstone displayed best voice of the cast as told the mournful tale of her youngest sons, though at times you wish she would blathering on about her all tied in to Marilyn Monroe.

The narrator is also a divisive character (found too cheesy by half my class and loved by me and the other half) worth mentioning. Dressed in a black suit with a skinny black tie, the gangly Angel of Death speaks in a menacing rhyme as he recounts the tales. His song “The Devil’s Got Your Number” is the catchiest of the soundtrack.

The songs and themes grow more serious as the play reaches its climax. As you watch the two boys grow up, a pit in your stomach grows—knowing how it ends. As you observe the way it actually all unravels—in a fantastic and terrifying bang—the audience is left with more than just an amazing musical. It’s a blood-chilling glimpse into how society’s structure can cause even the closest of peoples to tear each other apart.

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Foot notes
*Russell Crowe played Mickey in the Australian debut of this play in 1989. It was this play that got him discovered and eventually made him a big Hollywood movie star. Not because he was talented, but just because he was kicking too many asses Down Under and Australia just wanted to get him out of the Outback. True story. Also, Petula Clarke played Mrs. Johnston in one variation of the play.

*I wanted to fit in even more "The Sound of Music" puns. But there's not much material to go with songs like "Do-Re-Mi" and "Sixteen Going on Seventeen." I should have gone with Mary Poppins, I guess. Who doesn't appreciate a classy supercalifragilisticexpialidocious pun?

Vissual issues project

(I had to use my blog for a class presentation, and since I've been too busy to update, I'm just gonna leave it here. Try to figure out what the hell is going on?)



Trainspotting (1996)







Braveheart (1995)




Trainspotting = Rejecting Scottish independence. More centered around one character (Renton)
Braveheart = Promoting Scottish independence. More centered around a nation.


Characteristics of British film's today:
Counterculture
-Quirky
-Dark humor
-Lower middle class focus
-Crime/drug usage
-Sex appeal
-Ex. Trainspotting, Guy Ritche films, Shallow Grave, Full Monty, The Crying Game, Calendar Girls, This Is England, Aardman Animations, Sexy Beast

Glorified nostalgia
-Upper class focus
-Costumed period pieces
-Usually a romanticized take on British royalty or important British figures or events (Shakespeare in Love, The Queen, The English Patient)
-Remakes of British classics (Austen/Shakespeare/Bronte)
-Ex. Shakespeare In Love, Ms. Henderson Presents, The Queen, The English Patient, Atonement, The Remains of the Day, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Kenneth Braughn's Shakespeare films

What's missing?: Action films (Except James Bond, which has been heavily Americanized), Political thrillers, musicals, Horror (except Danny Boyle who's more sophisticated anyway), Teen comedies, family-oriented films, animation (except Aardman), Sci-Fi,


This is: HUGH GRANT



This is HUGH GRANT THE ACTOR




Roles:
Males are often eccentric, bumbling, wise.
-The suave, British romantic (ex. Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Pierce Brosnan/James Bond)
-The evil genius (Alan Rickman in Die Hard, Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lamb, John Lithgow in Cliffhanger, Christopher Lee in LOTR and Star Wars)
-The arrogant "expert" (Michael Caine in Batman, Giles from Buffy, Steve Coogan in Tropic Thunder)

Females usually drop the accent. (Ex. Catherine Zeta-Jones, Kate Winslet, Helena Bonham Carter)




AMERICANIZATION OF BRITISH CINEMA:
-Lots of American money in British films (James Bond films, Shakespeare in Love, Full Monty)
-Lots of English actors crossing over to blockbuster American films (Jason Statham
-British have always loved Hollywood films since 1920s. American films always topped British box offices. In the early 90s, multiplexes became more prominent. These giant theatres offered more choices, which meant more American choices. Tarantino films influenced the culture of Britain in the mid-1990s.
-British film renaissance began in mid-1980s, started picking up steam in America in mid-90s. Compete with American films by focusing on niche genres (counterculture, glorified nostalgia).
British films have won several Best Picture Academy Awards in the past. Danny Boyle's Trainspotting probably the high point.
-Uneven distribution film. Loads of American films go to England each year. Only a small percentage of English films make it to America.
-It's getting harder to tell which films are British and which are American. Many blockbusters that appear British are often funded by American producers (Pirates of the Caribbean, James Bond). American casts are often non-American actors (Batman).

And sometimes it's even hard to tell which actors are British anymore:



English actors and their stereotyped roles



Losing identity: BRITISH OR NOT?



Gwyneth Paltrow


Renee Zellweger


Meryl Streep


Kate Beckinsale


Christian Bale


Daniel Day-Lewis


Johnny Depp

QUESTIONS:
1a. Is there such a thing as British cinema anymore?
1b. Does the United Kingdom have a national identity through its film?
3. Do you recognize the UK's presence in film?
4. Do you think the aspects of national identity are intended for foreign audiences to notice or just for the British?

Day 40 or so: MAILIN' IT IN

(¡Hola de España!)

Saludos from Barcelona, where I have very limited Internet access, and why the hell am I even on the Internet anyway?* I wanted to get a quick post up before I leave to Madrid later today (and then Porto on Wednesday) - a post that will tell you absolutely nothing informative about Barcelona.

As a result of fall break and my vacation in the Iberian Peninsula, I won't have time for many updates. But I still wanted to give the loyal readers something to do. So I've decided to create an a study abroad/Europe Q&A. Just like this awesome fat white guy did.

Anyway who is anybody e-mail me anything at matt.ryann@gmail.com, and I will answer as many questions as I can when I return. I don't expect more than three questions anyway (two from Grandpa Nelson), but ask me any type of questions about London or food or traveling or why the Red Sox will not die or lions on horseback and I will do my best to answer.

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Foot notes

*To check my fantasy football team, of course. C'mon Matt Cassel I need a big week out of you.

Day 38: SWAMPED

(Mid-terms. woo)

I apologize for my lack of updating over the last couple of days. But I've been hammered by internships, packing for vacation and putting together internship packets. So until I can update, just entertain yourself with this.*

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Foot notes

*C'mon, it's awesome.

Day 35: NBA IN UK

(Also, the first NBA game I've attended in more than a decade)


Vince Carter lookin' British.


The O2 Arena lookin' snazzy.

LONDON - I made it to the O2 Arena for the Heat/Nets preaseason game with one out of two contacts. Not bad! I was covering the game for the Palm Beach Post. Even with perfect vision in one eye, I still couldn't find my seat. The NBA had forgot to provide me with one. Once that problem was solved, awesome times ensued.

The New Jersey Nets won 94-92 in front of 16,500 fans, but as you'll see below not even NBA commissioner David Stern cared too much about that. The fans did get into the game after the Heat rallied from a 19-point deficit, but for awhile all they cheered for was fan-favorite Dwyane Wade, crazy dunks and the Heat dancers. Nevertheless, I'd say the night was a success.

Here's what went down. In order of most exciting to least exciting.

-JAY-Z USED MY PEN!

No I didn't ask for his autograph. Even in the presence of Hova, I had to maintain a semblance of professionalism. Even better, I was being a Good Samaritan. Some kids next to where I was seated asked if I had a pen. I gave them one. Two minutes later, I look to my right and Jay-Z is next to me - signing an autograph with my ex-pen. It was the only autograph he signed. I kinda wanted my pen back.

Jay-Z* received a huge ovation when shown on the big screen during the game. With the exception of possibly Wade (thanks to his gold medal in Beijing), Jay-Z was probably the only celeb there who's a megastar in both the United States and Europe. Beyonce showed up, too.

-Other celebs ranged from ex-NBA stars like Darrell Dawkins and Kenny Smith to football (soccer) star Darren Bent to this albino dude from Big Brother UK. Also, the Brits love Phillips Idowu, a Dennis Rodman doppelganger who won the Olympic silver medal in the triple jump* for Great Britain in Beijing.

-This is probably the first sporting event I've been to that involved a Florida team, but did not involve fans wearing jorts.* Instead, the British made basketball jerseys look sleek. Some Englishmen paired jerseys with well-fitted jeans and a faux hawk. The most common jerseys were D-Wade and Vin-sanity. Also, England's Luol Deng. But there was one guy with dreads who sported an Arvydas Sabonis jersey. Yes, the Lithuanian fans were out in full force Sunday.

-The media food presented England with a chance to disprove American stereotypes - or reinforce them. Alas there was no fish n' chips. There was this gross looking chicken in sauce that tasted pretty damn good. Some rice. Some beef. Some strawberry dessert. And finally, the most loved food in all of Britain - the jacket potato. Seriously, every food establishment in London offers jacket potatoes and/or sweet corn. Even Subway here offers sweet corn instead of banana peppers. It's unfortunate since banana peppers > sweet corn.

-I attended a press conference before the game with Stern. The comish was his usual gruff, non-nonsense self while talking about how Europe is screwing up his plans for basketball to take over the world. He also ripped on London for its perceived plans during the 2012 summer olympics to host every round of basketball except the semifinals and finals (which will be in the O2) in outdated venues.

His straight talk is refreshing, and the reason I respect him more than any of the other major league commissioners (although Goodell should surpass him soon). Still, Stern did have one awesome flub when he referred to the Nets as the New Jersey Jets. Granted, it's forgivable since the Jets had just kicked off against the Bengals. And what's more exciting: Brett Favre or the NBA preseason?

-After the game I attended press conferences with Heat coach Erik Spoelstra, Wade, Michael Beasley, Carter and Nets head coach Lawrence Frank. The only newspaper that could afford to send a reporter overseas was the Miami Herald. It's sad because five years ago this would've been a glorious road trip for any NBA beat writer. But the newspaper industry's loss was my gain (although not in the long run).

Here's my story. It got chopped up a bit in editing (ahh, my game coverage is so rusty), but hey, London dateline. That's worth something.

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Foot notes

*Although roommate Taylor wonders: is Jay-Z called Jay-Zed in the UK? (and whether 50 Cent is 50 Pence?) The British pronounce their Z's zed not zee. I was caught off-guard by this for a little bit since I always thought of zed as Lord Zedd. The most awesomest Power Rangers villain ever.

*On the other hand, I didn't even realize the triple jump was a sport. But it is. Apparently, one where you jump. Likely three times.

*Apparently, auto racing is pretty big in the UK, which makes me wonder do the Brits allow themselves to dress anything like NASCAR fans in America. Also, I cant decide if this is funny.

Day 34: BALLIN'

(The NBA in London...and me)

LONDON - For the second year in a row, the NBA is coming to London. This year will be better though. Beacuse I'm going to be there.

In the press box. I got a gig covering the game from my semi-hometown paper, the Palm Beach Post - a paper that includes one of the best sports section's in the country*. It's thrilling.

The sold out preseason game between the Miami Heat and the New Jersey Nets will take place at the 18,000 seat O2 Arena. Watch the game on NBA TV* at 2 p.m. Oh wait, you don't have that channel? Damn.



Miami Heat*

VS.


New Jersey Nets

Updates on the food, atmosphere and the game itself to come later.


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Foot notes

*Unfortunately, the paper did recently cut its Florida Panthers. Not sure if the axing of the Panthers beat says more about the state of hockey or the state of newspapers. Likely the perfect case of a little from Column A and a little from Column B. (Although the Post did write this article today). But perhaps we're underestimating the far-reaching influence of one of the worst NHL franchises. In the supermarket the other day, I saw a kid wearing a Florida Panthers t-shirt. It was bizarre.

*Except maybe Austin Barimo, an obsessive fan of the Orlando Magic. A shout out to him on his birthday.

*For those who aren't Parrotheads, that's Jimmy Buffett, an obsessive fan of the Miami Heat (Jay-Z is co-owner of the Nets). Hey, loyal readers, can somebody put together a mash-up of "99 Problems" and "Cheeseburger in Paradise."

Survey says: SOCCER

(Or football)


Cool!

Well, it's about time for a new poll.

As many of my American fans know, I know nothing about football*. But I'm in England so I might as well learn.

Which is the Premiership team I should cheer for? Like the last poll, I'll weigh the pros and cons, using what little knowledge I have about each team.

Arsenal
Smashing: I only know three Americans who I believe are legit football fans. Two are fans of the Arsenal. There must be something about them that gets Americans excited. Plus, the Arseblog rules.
Bollocks: How the hell am I going to afford Arsenal tickets? The prices are insane.

Chelsea
Smashing: The team that is currently atop the Premier League standings. Why not just hop on the bandwagon?
Bollocks: Chelsea is the Yankees (or is it now the Red Sox?) of the English football world. Do I really want to root for the Evil Empire (hmm, perhaps)?

Fulham
Smashing: (From football lover/American Tony Kolt) Matt, forget the vote. Root for Fulham. Go to Craven Cottage and see a game. You will not be able to afford a ticket to Arsenal or Chelsea, and West Ham is in a dire situation so far. Fulham are a fun team, they have a history of American players (incl. Clint Dempsey currently), and they're cheaper to see live. Go do it.*
Bollocks: Currently, one of the worst teams in the Premier League standings. But, hey, it's early.

West Ham United
Smashing: Favorite direction is west.
Bollocks: Not a fan of ham. (Obviously I know nothing about West Ham United)

Screw Soccer. Go Gators!
Smashing: Out of the five Florida teams I was raised on - the Dolphins, the Heat, the Panthers, the Marlins and the Gators* - only one of them hasn't caused me constant heartache and frustration. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere come the Florida Gators!
Bollocks: Well, I'm in England so I should probably stop worrying about American football. If the Gators lose to LSU on Saturday, I'll have no reason to care anyway.

There ya have it. Which sporting event should I attend? Define my allegiance, please. And does anyone know where I can find some good rugby?

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Foot notes
*One thing I do know is that Peter Crouch is awesome. And I want to learn the Crouch Dance.)

*Of course, I can't really consider myself a Dolphins fan anymore. And I flat out don't like the NBA. The Panthers are nearing a decade long playoff drought. So truthfully, there's only two Florida teams I still root for. The Gators and the Fish. Oh yes, the Marlins. I wish I could quit you. Yet after each fire sale, I find myself watching still attached. In fact, last week in class I spent a half hour predicting the 2009 Florida Marlins roster. The one that's going to win the World Series. That's right. You heard it here first.

*If Tony's right, which he appears to be. Well, crap. I might just have to get the cheapest tix I can find. Go Fulham?

Let's play: "FAT PIG"

(Yeah...he went there)


"Fat Pig" poster

This week's play is Neil LaBute's* "Fat Pig." Yeah, just by the title...well and the posters, you can tell where this one is going. For some reason, I could not figure out the names of actors/actresses in our cast.
I think one was Joanna Page from "Love Actually," but I can't even say I'm 100 percent about that.

Let's be ironic here, and rate this a scale of 1-5* Keira Knightley's. By the way, the Pirates of the Caribbean star, who's oft-accused of being anorexic, has a new plan to put on some weight. Uhh...

TWO AND A HALF KNIGHTLEY'S out of five.
Written by Neil LaBute
Now playing at The Comedy Theatre
Run Time: About an hour and 40 minutes.


--

That's definitely not the cast we saw. This male lead is way too hairy. Definitely not our cast.

"Fat Pig"
By Matt Levin

Fat Pig is a play about an average Joe who starts dating a really fat chick.

If that line makes you feel uncomfortable, then Neil LaBute's play, going on at the Comedy Theatre, might be difficult to stomach. On the surface, it's a no-holds-barred hour and a half of ripping on the overweight lead (many by the lead about herself, before anyone else has the chance). It's a comedy. With a heart, of course.

And while the ending is both shocking and brilliant, the rest simply isn't funny enough.

The diluted plot about an attractive man who falls for his "big-boned" beauty has tons of potential. But the jokes only work when they cross the line, and frankly LaBute's script doesn't go far enough. Throughout certain scenes, audience members are left feeling sitting their uncomfortably. Plus, if those jokes did hit harder it'd help emphasize the underlying theme - how do you follow your own ideals when society keeps telling you something different?

It's a tough question, and a much deeper one than the cliche "it's on the inside that counts" theme that gets emphasized for the first three-quarters fo the play. The leads do a fine job. And "the best friend" character, a misognyst named Carter, is easily the funniest character. "The ex" character just comes off as one of those crazy, stalker caricatures, who also has trouble doing an American accent.

The play does have its hilarious moments and its introspective ones. Those instances, however, are too rare to sustain "Fat Pig's" wafer-thin plot.*

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Foot notes

*I did some research on Neil LaBute while writing this. What I learned is while he might be a pretty okay playwright, he sucks as a director. This is the dude that directed the recently-released Lakeview Terrace. His previous film before that: The Wicker Man - the most unintentially funny film of all time.

*Of course, five Keira Knightley's equals only one average-sized person. So maybe I should've done this on a scale of 1-10.

*Ergh, looking back this review there's a few "puns not intended." "Tons of potential" and "sustain," both unintended. But it's hard not to overanalyze when reviewing something called Fat Pig.

DAY 39: TRAVEL PLANS

(From Oslo...to some place called Klagenfurt)

In less than two weeks I leave for Spain. I have a fall break, which means a week off to travel. And finally, I can demonstrate how useless my five years of Spanish classes were. I hope to engage as many Spaniards as possible in conversation, and hopefully humiliate myself*. Hopefully.

Other than fall break, I have five chances left to travel outside the United Kingdom (My trip to Liverpool therefore doesn't count, but thanks for voting to send me there loyal readers!). All I've scheduled so far is my fall break, which consists of Barcelona, Madrid and Porto, Portugal (home of Port wine).


Barcelona


Madrid


Porto

Here are five other destinations I'd like to visit out the UK before my time here is up. None are arranged yet, but I'll keep my fingers crossed. Factors include exoticness, cheapness*, and super awesome-ness:

Dublin - FYI, it's not a part of the United Kingdom. FYI, Irish people might just be the friendliest people on Earth.

Oslo - One of my goals is to visit Scandinavia. Or some off the beaten path destination. So in other words Scandinavia. Here's why Oslo wins. Ryanair flies there. It's the only capital to ever host the Winter Olympics - and there's a giant ski jump still there. The place offers cross-country skiing tours through the forests. Fjords are beautiful. Norse mythology rules. Fjords are fun to spell. It doesn't get that horribly cold there because of something to do with the Gulf of Mexico.
Obviously, this is the only one I've really researched so far.

Austria or Germany - Right now I'm leaning toward Klagenfurt. It's a hub in Austria that's about two hours from places like Vienna, Salzburg, Hungary, Italy and Slovakia. Also, it's surrounded by like forests, mountains and schisse.

Milan - It's the center of the fashion world. I think as an American, and coming from a land where cheese is a fashion statement, it'd be cool to just see how these folks dress and where they shop. And how I can't afford any of it.

Paris - Originally when I arrived in London I had no intention of visiting the City of Lights. The more I think about it the more I realize I'd be stupid not to. Mimes, croissants, Eiffel Tower. How does that not get you excited?

Loyal and also unloyal readers: do you know anything about these places - any advice, any palces highly overrated? Much thanks.

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Foot notes

*The way I see each conversation happening is midway through the Spaniard's first sentence I realize I can't understand any of it. So I ask "por que?" Senor/Senora says something else, and I ask "por que?" again. This keeps happening for another five or 10 minutes, until the Spaniard realizes I'm just acting like a four year old.

*Ryanair is a budget airlines (something that doesn't exist in America), which every couple days offers flights to smaller cities for as low as one pound one way (plus about 10 pounds in taxes). Ryanair's amazingness can be seen in my fall break. I'm traveling from London to Spain and Portugal for about 65 pounds (aobut 110 dollars). Believe it or not Ryanair profits (something that doesn't exist in America).

Maintenance: TEN COMMANDMENTS OF BLOGGING

(Thou shall obey?)


Charlton Heston kicking ass as Moses in The Ten Commandments*

In spite of the rampant immaturity running throughout this blog, I am intending for this to be a (semi-) professional blog.* Blogging is a necessity today for any journalist (even though journalists insist its not journalism...so whatever). And for me this is a learning experience, along with a way to write about stupid things I've done in London.

So with that I present to you the 10 Commandments of Blogging. My goal for the future of this blog is to obey these commandments and to stop coveting my neighbor's wife and donkey.

For the sake of improving this blog, here we go (rated A-F):

1. Make your opinion known.

Great success?*: (B) I think so. For example, how do I feel about Stonehenge? (Everyone: It sucks!) Plus, I'm rating plays and other adventures. My opinion - it's out there.

2. Link like crazy.

Great success?: (A) Heck yes, if there's one skill I have in life it's linking like crazy to strangely entertaining things.

3. Write less.

Great success?: (D+) No, I'm horrible at it. Every knows that if there's two things I fail at in life it's writing concisely and curling. I hope to fix my writing problem through this blog, and my curling problem in Oslo, Norway.

4. 250 words is enough.

Great success?: (D+) I just mentioned I'm horrible at this. These commandments obviously suck at this, too. Isn't this the same thing as No. 3?

5. Make headlines snappy.

Great success?: (B+) I think my headlines have a certain wit to them. I mean, who wouldn't want to read a headline called "Par-taaaay" or "BBC."

6. Include bullet point lists.

Great success?: (C-) Well, hmmm there's this post. And I've started to make my Snatch'd reviews in a more bullet point/quick hits form. But there needs to be more.

7. Edit your posts.

Great success?: (B+) I feel I've done a decent job of editing for the most part. Not perfect, and of course some of the formatting problems have to do with the fact blogspot sucks.

8. Make your posts easy to scan.

Great success?: (B-) Well, my writing is easy to get through usually. But the posts should be shorter, list-ier, and include more photos.

9. Be consistent with your style

Great success?: (C+) I try to, but once again I blame this on blogspot sucking.

10. Little post with keywords.

Great success?: (F) I'm not too clear on what this means. So I guess I fail at it.

Two other commandments I'd like to amend.
-Lotsa photos
-Strong design
-Post (almost) every damn day

Both those elements are a work in progress. Oh and look bullet points!

Well, there ya have it. Whaddya think...thou shall obey?

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Foot notes

*The Ten Commandments used to scare the bejeesus out of me as a kid. Now it ranks as the third scariest movie I've ever seen behind Saw and Ghostbusters II.

*Haven't you ever wondered why this blog contains so few swear words and other vulgarities when I curse like a sailor in real life? You were wondering, weren't you?

*Hmm, this is easily the most vulgar thing I've ever linked to on my blog. But it's frikkin' Borat and the movie-version made $100+ million in America. Anyway, just skip to the last minute for the amazing line that gives the link its name.

Day 36: THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT

(...in my room)



In case you were wondering what my living quarters in London looked like (you were? Wow, great!) here's a glimpse:

My room in the flat has been nicknamed the Red Light District. Try to guess why from these photos:


Psst...it's because of the red light.

My roommate Brad brought the Red Light to give our room more personality. It's worth noting here that Brad is a vampire.


However, Brad did build a really cool fort.


An ominous glow emanates from the Red Light District.

Exciting kitchen photos:



What the hell is that white glow? I don't know how to take photos.


You can't see it here, but just behind that washer is our dryer.*

My Empty Room*: A Photo Story

I moved out of my room the day I returned from Amsterdam. It was too much of a hell hole. Instead, I've spent the past week sleeping on our couch in the living room. It wasn't awkward or anything for the rest of the house.


Yes, mom/dad there's the Florida Gator pillow from our living room. It's been here all along, and no I'm not returning it.

Suddenly, after a week on the couch, I became enlightened (like that one dude on the couch in Half-Baked.) And with my new magical powers I cleaned my room with the snap of my fingers.*

Before:

Not gonna lie. The floor was like that for a week.

*POOF*

After:

Crap, forgot the iron.

Before:

Seriously, how did this room get so messy?

*BAM*

After:

And how did it get so damn clean?

Before:

Now, that's just embarrassing.

Abra

Kadabra

*Kazaam*

After:

Ta-da. A made bed complete with a book by Stephen Ambrose.

Award-winning photo story? Dur.

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Foot notes

*Gotcha. If you've been reading my blog all along, you'd know the Brits don't use dryers. Anyway...how 'bout that spotless kitchen? Didn'tWillandSarah do a magnificent job cleaning it? Let's give them a hand

*My Empty Room was, of course, a reference to the 14th track off Queensrÿche's seminal album "Operation: Mindcrime." Who caught that homage? I know one person did. Anyway, it's my least favorite song on the album. Instead listen to the catchy "I Don't Believe in Love" or the epic closer "Eyes of a Stranger."

*The magical powers is my version of the story. My roommates might tell you a different version. But whatever they say is untrue. It was magic.