you may not like this but....

i'm back in the USA, but instead of posting regularly for the next few weeks, i'm considering posting only once a week for the next month or so. i know this may be painful for the most devoted of my followers, but you've gone without the 17 point scale for at least two weeks now, so perhaps a weekly dose of 17 point goodness may now be sufficient. i'm thinking that wednesday nights might be a good time for the weekly posts or perhaps i could write posts when i take my malaria pill each week (saturdays); i'll let you know once i arrive at a final decision. also, if i find time to wade through my photographs, i may post some textless picture entries. in any case, i'll be attempting to use the extra free time of unblogginess to draft a travel essay or two about my adventures in belize. if the writing gods smile upon me, i'll be sure to post the results of this labor here on the 17 point scale.

DAY 2

andrew david. "at present, there are 2 major influences on my worldview, the s.o. and this horse" somewhere in guatemala.

packing list (part 1)

beth and i are driving from seattle to saskatoon, sk. what should we bring?
1. razor
2. shaving cream
3. toothbrush x2
4. toothpaste
5. deoderant x2
6. clothes (boxers x7, swim trunks, jeans x2, casual wedding garb pants & shirt, t-shirt x6, socks x7, belt, sweatshirt x2, coat, shoes, sandals)
7. atlas
8. other notes re: instructions and campgrounds
9. camera x2
10. camera charger
11. ipod
12. ipod fm transmitter
13. laptop x2?
14. tent x2?
15. sleeping bag x2
16. pillow x2
17. headlamp


andrew david. 'the rejects 1: keeping current; observing the surf; oncoming traffic; hot day' yelapa, mexico.

a pg-13 post [1.5]

[prologue to part two]
thank you everyone. your impatience for the conclusion of this posting has been like peanut butter gnutella for the ego. i don't mind if you spread it thick. still, i'm no charles dickens. i doubt i can handle the stress of writing serial posts like this. ironically, i am paralyzed by your great expectations (i couldn't resist). this condition is compounded by my general ineptitude for endings. don't believe me? check my computer; the final draft of my 2003 travel essay is saved as 'dumbest ending ever.'

sorry for this detour; i know that some of you are antsy to discover beth's fate--what ghostly specter haunts the corners of her mind? will she survive her encounter with the dumpy newspaper-strewn house that andrew calls home?--i understand your anxiety, but aren't you even a little bit curious about that dumb ending?

well, this blog is about me, and i was curious, so i double-clicked the document and scrolled quickly to page eleven. here are the final two sentences:

'like the old tortoise, i finally made it. i’ve been stumbling, bumbling, teetering, and generally miss-stepping from one place to the next, but despite rick steves and in spite of myself, here i am.'

sucky, right? this mawkish attempt at a conclusion is the result of more than a year's worth of brain kneading, or, to quote myself, a year's worth of 'stumbling, bumbling, teetering, and generally miss-stepping ' my way 'from one place to the next.' that's right!--you're witnessing an interactive epiphany--maybe my travel essay is really just a heroic similie, an extended metaphor for the creative process we call writing! though i long ago left this essay for dead, perhaps this emphasis could cause a wild transformation; perhaps there is yet hope for my endings...


(i thought this picture was fitting; i'm taking a break from my story, and wheelbarrow guy is just plain taking a break.)

andrew david 'siesta' yelapa, mexico.