me


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Here's Chris and Fatty back at my apartment getting ready to head back to their respective homes - so ends our journey.

Between the three of us that had cameras, we managed to take just over 2,000 pictures which I edited down to 21 entries comprised of exactly 790 photos. And so it's with these last few words that I end the European Vacation Series (which is by far, the longest diary project I've ever undertaken). Back to life in NYC!
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With one final pic of the fantasic four, we said goodbye to Grant (who was staying behind in London for another couple of days) and....
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...boarded our plane.
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With our time together disappering almost as fast as our delicious french fries, Grant gives me a "Be brave with out me" thumbs up.
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Shuttlebus from the rental car drop-off to the terminal.
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Saturday morning we woke up, double checked our packed bags, thanked Grant's parents for their hospitality, and hit the road for Heathrow.
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Here's another one. This one's my pensive and artsy "I'm acting like the camera's not there, but clearly I must know it is because I'm the one who took the picture" picture. Who's more emo than me? Motherfuck this photo diary nonsense, I'm gonna get me a LiveJournal. (ps - look at the two cutey patooties passed out next to me like little sleeping lambs. Teeheehee.)
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Then Emily came and met up with us and we went and saw a movie. Yay, November!
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Two weeks after leaving my job I decided it was time to hit the interview circuit. Here's me on my way to interview with at the (in)famous Faith Popcorn about a position at her BrainReserve consultancy.
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Hi, would you like to hire me?
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What about *discowink* now?
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Me and Lindsay.
the november roundup
November, 2003
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Saturday morning I was awaken by my friend Grant's Uncle Phil (Philthy Phil!), who was in town on business from Norway! Turns out, he was walking around with his business associate in Chinatown mere blocks from my apartment. I asked where he'd like to meet up and he asked "Is there a pub around that's open yet?" (Keep in mind, this is like 10:30am). So we headed to Spring Lounge and shot the shit and grabbed a few pints.
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Friday night I went out with Vin and Matty - we were sitting in the Two Boots Pizza on Bleecker and Bway, having ourselves a lil' slizzice at 2am-ish, when suddenly a six-person fight broke out that lasted for more than ten minutes. I was so stunned I totally shit the bed and didn't even take any pictures. I was so entralled I think I'd forgotten I even owned a camera. Anyway, here's a pic of us afterwards laughing about it while we stood around watching the pizza workers explain to the cops (who took forever to show up) what had happened.
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While there I ran into Anna, a former co-worker's former girlfriend.
the november roundup
November, 2003
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And then on the way out, this guy (Bryan Carlin) came up to me because he reads this site and recognized me! We actually since become friends (and I even hired him to do a freelance coding project for the new company I'm working for!). Strangers really are just friends that you haven't met. (Except for some of them, they're just assholes you haven't met yet).
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But what I failed to get in performance pictures...
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What's better than three Roxbury grads in one pic? How about six mothafucking Roxbury Grads in one pic? Insanity. Bev, Chris, Colin Badini, Ian, Emily and me.
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Friday night I headed out to Hoboken with fellow Roxbury High School graduates Emily Cmielewski and Bev Chase to see our friend Christina Alessi's band (also RHS alum, baby) Hey Tiger play at Maxwell's.
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And we were even treated to yet ANOTHER (late-comer) RHS arrival...Amanda Polk (who still won't make out with me. It's been like 10 years already. Seriously, WTF?)
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Emily does her impression of Monty Burns while I look artsty in the mirror.
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I decided to celebrate to celebrate my first week of not working with the purchase of an enormous Costa Rican pineapple that was the size of my head from the wonderful produce stand on my block ($3! Can you believe that).
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Saturday, Chris was in town and the four of us got together for brunch at 9th Street Market to reminisce about our recent hijinx in Europe.
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After icing my angry toe, I donned the lovely Gemma's sleep mask and slipped off to Nigh-nigh land to dream of slutty Essex girls and homeward bound airplanes.
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Mmmmm....delicious guilt.
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The only question I have is how did we not get beat up? Look at us.
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Here's me with, um, something tied around my head showing of something called the "Cheeky Girls Gallery." Huh?
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We posed for one last group photo before all going our separate ways. Let's hear it for Halloween 2003. Wooooo!
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...it was time to seal the deal with some sweet, sweet makeout.
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After I was done showing Dani my moves out on the dancefloor...
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My disco finger brings all the girls to my yard. I could teach you but I've have to charge. (By the way, if I die anytime soon, make sure this pic finds its way into the casket collage, mmmkay?)
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Charlene getting her dance on (if you look over her shoulder you'll see Dani and I cutting some rug in the background trying to get in on her pic).
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Hahahaha. Check me out all dancing all low up in her booty.
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Meanwhile, across the dancefloor, I was about to take Dani to a little place I like to call Jersey Boogie School.
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Hahahah. What's better than Fatty's face in this picture?
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Oh, and let's not forget the lovely ladies! Charlene brought the cavalry! Here's me with Dani, Charlene and Tracey.
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We wanted to eat lots of stinky, spicy Indian food - that way if none of us managed to pull in the clubs later that night, we could all blame it on our kicking BREAFFF! (Hey, it worked in Greece, right?)
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Here's us trying to take a sneaky pic of one of the Foxhunters as he left the bar. Smooooooth.
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Me with Papa Stoddard.
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I'm such a lightweight - nothing makes me sleepier than having a few beers in the afternoon. Not wanting to be at anything less than full capacity for our big night touring Essex's finest nightclubs (ok, ok and also wanted to spend some more QT with Gemma's fragrant pillow...mmmmm, Gemma), I opted to take a quick nap. Somebody snuck in (the Fatty, I think) and managed to grab this pic (which is one of the few pics on the site of a person sleeping that doesn't also have someone's genitalia in close proximity to their face).
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...but eventually, even he, the videogame detractor, couldn't help but get caught up in the frenzy of excitement that is SILENT SCOPE 2.
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Grant was standoffish at first....
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....ARCADE TIME! (Look at Grant and Chris peeking out in the background. Hahaha).
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Remember all the way back in the beginning of the trip when Chris, Fatty and I were in Iceland and we had the "Guess what time the sun will rise" contest where the winner would get to sleep in Gemma's bed? Well, I won. None of us could figure out why Grant didn't freak out when we told him about what we'd said the prize was....until we discovered that Gemma had gone to Brazil with her boyfriend and wasn't even around! Here's me enjoying my winner's prize...and dreaming of Gemma alone in bed.

And to add insult to injury, Gemma's since gotten herself engaged. Boooo! Er, I mean congrats, Gemma!). We turned out the lights and tried to get some sleep in preparation for next day's whirlwind tour of the town and evening of Essex nightlife!
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...ESSEX! That's right! We were heading out to Grant's parent's house in Essex to hang with his family and so he could show us around Corringham, the town he spend his formative years in.
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After a few England-bound hours in the air, it was time for ANOTHER MEAL! Wooooo! Who loves airline food more than us?
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...we arrived safely and without incident (save a slight yelling match between Grant and the rest of the passengers in the car who politely asked him if he would "SLOW THE FUCK DOWN SO DON'T HYDROPLANE OFF THE ROAD AND DIE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!") at Grant's parent's home and celebrated with some stiff drinks...
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The verdict? It gets an enthusiastic, lambtastic thumbs up. Mmmmm.
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Ooooooooh!
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Despite all of my SUSPICIOUS CAMERA ACTIVITY I somehow managed to make it aboard the plane. Wait, where's the Fatty?
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We bid our lovely condo a fond farewell and piled into our sweet, lil' rental one last time.
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Once in the airport, we grabbed a quick slice...
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With a fistfulla cone, we bid a last fond-farewell to Rethymnon.
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Hahahah.
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After fucking around for too long in Bali, we ended up having to make the 35 minute trip back to our condo at dusk (freezing our asses off the whole way). After dropping the bikes off and picking up our car, we headed to a nearby restaurant for an early dinner.
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And me. Someone call your high school photo teacher, I think what we've got here is a "work of art! " I call this one "Self-Reflections of a Helmeted Scooterteer."
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Me and Dave.
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Hahaha. Check out my chapped-ass, red "been riding a scooter in the cold too long" nose. Ouchie.
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Here's a picture of me hanging back near the entrance...
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Once quick CHiPs-inspired coldlamp with the scooter...
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...and we continued on our way. Here's Chris' pic of him about to pass me on the open road.
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I totally forgot to mention that the temperature had dropped sharply from the previous day and was in the low 50s, which might not sound too cold, but when you're riding a scooter at 50mph with no gloves, it's almost unbearable. Here's me using the exaust to defrost my frozen lil' phalanges.
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How did Megadeth manage to never write a song about this?
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Me in front of a Venitian arch.
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Our bellies full of warm doughnut, we hit the open road. We decided to take a 45 km backroads trip to check out the bad-ass Arkadi Monastery and then from there, if we had enough light, ride another 25 km and check out the Melidoni Caves.
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Mmmmmm....doughnutlicious.
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I think I mentioned this earlier, but in Crete cats are like squirrels. They run around everywhere and people just feed them. Halfway through our dinner, we had a couple of cute little kittens cozy up to us looking for some food and some lovin'.
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Seasoned veterans at this point in the trip, we even managed to drink our raki without so much as a grimmace. Opa! Opa!
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Hahahahah. Look at his feet.
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If you look closely, you can just barely see Grant peeking out between me and Fatty.
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"Yep, you're right Brian. You totally do need to cut off your silly, hippy hair."
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Then back near the car, we goofed off and took some pictures of us on the sea wall.
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We drove back into downtown Rethymnon, parked the car, and headed back over to...
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After a few songs I gave up and headed back to our table on the sidelines to coldlamp with my boys.
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I headed out solo onto the dance floor.
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Looky, looky! What's going on here in this picture? After Grant was done giving her the "See, aren't we fun guys?" photo review, she quickly cozied up to tha Grizza.
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We chatted Michael up for a few minutes and after we'd established a rapport, I asked him if I had any shot with his cute friend and he replied (please make sure you read the next sentence in your best Balki from "Perfect Strangers" voice) "Don' be ree-deek-you-los!"
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Throwing down for the cam.
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Me rocking out to House of Pain's "Jump." Did that "action" hair o' mine.
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Me, Tymber and tha Grizza.
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Yaaaaay, Amstel.
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Here's Fatty and I reacting to the rarely seen Grant "I Have Giant Brass Balls" Stoddard.
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We got outside and after a quick "Charlie's Angels" pose for the cam, Grant and Tymber made plans to meet up out front of the club the next morning at 11am and then head to the beach together.
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With the leather-panted Gunther giving us the stinkeye from across the table we took a view pictures more pics without her in the background to try to throw him off our perv trail. By the way, ever notice how stuff like Coke, ketchup and McDonalds always taste not-so-great overseas? Well with beer, it works the other way around. The beer we are drinking is Amstel. (not Amstel light, regular Amstel) Maybe it was the crisp sea breeze or the abundance of badobnkadonk butts out there but it was hands down one of the best beers I've ever had.
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The camera never lies. That's why the picture is blurred. But turn down a complimentary digestif in Greece and you might get your ass handed to you along with the check. Looks like we have some shots to drink. Oh well, here's to minimal liver damage.
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Me looking like Carson from Queer Eye, who I hear is also partial to huge slabs of meat.
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tastes like. . .
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In addition to raki, the guy that we chatted up at this restaurant brought us free ice cream sundaes too! Booze and ice-cream before 1pm. And it's not even my birthday!
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You can't really tell but the German chick sitting over my shoulder was really cute and Grant insisted on capturing her in a pic so he could "use it later" whatever that means. Here's me as the photo decoy.
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It was right at this wall where we received our first bit of exciting news: That the tour's almost over
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Me upon realizing that my grandparents are older than the buildings that you see in the background.
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Fatty managed to snap a pic of the Grizza and I in a golden slumber before we got some breakfast and hit the road. (Luckily he wasn't there to capture the Golden Shower that had gone on a few minutes earlier).
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Aw, yeah. Let's hear it for culture.
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We lament not checking with the dancing piranha people before scheduling our trip.
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Yo, that Bay Watch shit was corny. But I wasn't about to be left out of a WWF FLEX DOWN!
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When Fatty showed me the great mid-air picture he captured of me jumping of the rock, we decided we needed a picture of EVERYONE jumping off the rock. So without further ado, here we go!
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Dah-dah-dorks
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Me doing a Sweep the Leg Johnny Crane kick on the rock.
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Action shot of me jumping off the rock.
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The beginning of sunset.