Texas Hill Country Texas Hill Country (think: rural Central Texas) is a hub of the Texas wine industry. To get here, all you have to do is get f*cked by Southwest Airlines so that your two flights turn into four and then all four are delayed by at least an hour and then one of them spends 30 minutes flying small ovals over some random … Continue reading Secrets of the Yeastyboys: My Two Weeks at Robert Clay Vineyards
For many years now, I’ve been meaning to sit down and read about astrophysics. Finally, I got around to it. This was no negligible undertaking for a brain the size of mine. It was like vaulting an Olympic bar using a chopstick. Anyway, I come to you with the following takeaways: If just one physics professor had spent five minutes telling the story about the … Continue reading The 4 Dumbest Things I’ve Done Around the World
When I Became a WHAT? To be precise, what I actually became was one member of a herd of semi-indentured servants under the direct supervision of some archaeologists. But I was rolling the exact rocks, scrubbing the exact pottery, and digging the exact dirt that Charles, my supervisor, directed me to, so by the transitive property, I guess I could say I was Charles. And … Continue reading When I Became an Archaeologist
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My 7-Year Pursuit of How To Live A near-death experience, an improbable disorder, and a global quest for answers Dakar, Saly, Kedougou. Marrakech, Fez, Cairo. Chicago, Aspen, Los Angeles. Beijing, Langfang, Hangzhou. And finally, Springfield, Kambah, Ballengarra, and Fassifern Valley… a good whirl around the world… I write from Brisbane International Airport. In one day, I’ll be home. In one week, I’ll be 22. This … Continue reading The Year My Life Got Stranger Than Fiction
As I write, I am crying a little, because today my only waterbottle got shat on by a cow. If you have never worked with cow poo—which, by the way, means you’ve never worked with cows—let me explain to you why getting shat on by a cow can be aptly summarized as “the end of innocence,” “the end of life as we know it,” or … Continue reading When I Became An Australian Farmer
Frankly, I could replace this entire post with a single screencap: Back in March, I spent a week bumpin’ around Cairo: eating twelve-cent meals, chugging fruit smoothies, haggling felucca fares with a guy who added me on WhatsApp and now sends me, at random, snippets of radio talk shows entirely in Arabic. I was thrilled to see Cairo for one reason: Uber.* *Not a paid … Continue reading Tiny Tales #3: I Crossed the River Nile on a Motorcycle Scooter
The Hell is Dakar? Dakar is the capital city of Senegal, a country on the west coast of Africa. I studied there from January to March 2018. I understand that this post is hugely belated. Well, here is what happened: In April, UChicago kicked my ass. In May, UChicago kicked my ass. In June, UChicago ended! . . . and I flew straight to my … Continue reading Dakar Survival Guide for the Everyday Toubab
So I’ve been studying abroad in Senegal since January, living with a host family in the coastal capital of Dakar. Around midnight one Thursday, as my friends and I hunkered over the final projects due that very morning, my pal Jon went, “By the way, I think I am gonna do the waterfall trip. You should come.” Said waterfall trip consisted of two overnight buses … Continue reading 764 Miles, 3 Days, 1 Butt: My Trek Across Senegal
Amendment: I danced with Bidew Bou Bess at a Chinese New Year Festival in Dakar. Amendment to amendment: I jabbed my hips in arbitrary directions and flailed my arms in floppy circles and fundamentally disgraced both myself and the entire Chinese American community beside Bidew Bou Bess at a Chinese New Year Festival in Dakar. Bidew Bou Bess is a rap trio consisting of three brothers: Makhtar, … Continue reading Tiny Tales #2: I Met Bidew Bou Bess at a Senegalese Chinese New Year Festival
San Jose in July is a sprawling geography of white heat, browning mountains, and yellow grass. We pull into the lot beside our squat, cinderblocky destination and my stomach shnargles. For lunch, I’d prepared myself a hybrid of an “I’m Too Cheap To Buy Real Food” meal and a “Potential Impending Projectile Vomit” meal, i.e. old miso soup and a hard-boiled egg I’m pretty sure was … Continue reading Tiny Tales #1: I Fell Out of a Plane at 10,000 Feet
