Senior Week Houses De

Marcos e la salamella

Minneapolis, my house, your car's dashboard Marcos a bunch of dried flowers cover the filler air and dust and scatters petals when she leaves the air conditioner. The Hundai is his girlfriend, who has many problems every year to renew the visa and get the stamps start from Ho Chi Minh City. The forced stop for about a month, so he's left the car. He faded flowers reminiscent of a weekend of love in Tenneesee, I do not run a superstitious dad. Tear off a pass to my neighbor and friend Marcos, allow me to fill the refrigerator, which in a month I had not done since the distance between the bus stop and my house is exactly one mile and I can not bring too many parcels. If I think of the concept of a stateless person dear to my teacher in high school letters, Marcos is the archetype: gentiori Japanese, born and raised in St. Paul University in Maryland, Ph.D. in Minneapolis girl in Vietnam, three languages \u200b\u200bfluently, no historical depth ( Marcos who? Me?; That weird guy Lula, I know nothing of HIM; Mussolini? Is he still the chief? ). It physiatry, currently vivisection mice and one Sunday I have helped grease the future victims: I'm sorry, but there are no numerical models for many types of disease, a mouse costs $ 1 and is similar in some respects to the man (I had always suspected). Marcos asks many questions about the Italian food amongst other things because it is an excellent cook, invent recipes, always invites me to prove his soup (the last one, a bell pepper with a touch of raw garlic) and opts for vegetarian cooking. Passing between the supermarket, I wonder about brands, combinations, ways in which you eat certain cheeses. I am frankly tired of the tomato minnesotese, a sort of highlander the fridge that shrivels even after a month, sweet, watery and unfit sauce, pasta Da Vinci goes soft after a minute and red onion in Wisconsin that mimics that of Tropea without having the flavor. I do not try Italian food, I avoid them with care since whenever disappoint me, I buy vegetables, meat and rice. As long as the sausage stand, the index of Marcos tip a corner sheltered from beef loin and pork chops: is it Italian? Mild Italian Sausage. The sausage in packs of 6 for $ 3, there is a 3 to 2 with six dollars and will take home 18. Half an hour later, 18 salami, 6 of which are flavored with fennel, traveling to my home in the trunk of Hundai. Let's go back to seven and now I feel it: Preheat the griddle, a drizzle of olive oil, a clove of garlic finely chopped, a little onion, open the sausage in half and crushed it against the plate by turning it several times on both sides. When I put in the bread is cooked, add tomato slices, onion, mayonnaise and salad: the missing spice. The first bite me back in Argonne Avenue corner square Fusina, 300 meters from home. Arabic or French? Telma French, put the spice. Nostalgia rogue. I put two sausages on plate, Marcos name and appearance. It is a culinary experiment: he hates junk food, hamburgers and hot dogs disgusted. But the experiment works, it's like sausage and asks me if it is very popular in Italy because Brazil has never eaten. He wants an encore. Skald a sliver of Asiago, add it to the sausage flavored with fennel, two beers and one begins. We finish a pack, three sausages each, an evening mumbling and talking about women and sausages. The sausage, as well as highly successful social experiment in culinary, friendship and camaraderie ago: Marcos, usually confidential, I looked through books and CDs, I wonder if soon Neruda's poetry that does not know who (I guess it has drawn the cover), look in the closet and I envy the sweatshirt from the squatter Rebelot bought for 20 €. The effect lasts a long sausage because only one and half chose to go up in his apartment. When I close the door, I see the deal: a sandwich kiosk in Copacabana, with a half-Ciccio for salama da sugo and Tomino Novara, the center sends the Piedmontese beef sausage from Unity Day and holds happiness in four square meters. You know we do instead? Let's go, let's go to Brazil, we think, in Brazil, take a ... Moraldo steamer, a steamer and set off.

Dora 2nd Birthday Party Blog

Pool party condominiale

Hennepin, 333 5th Avenue, three buildings enclosing a square with a private swimming pool. A fence separates the complex from a meadow to the boundless horizon of which we can see the towers for the wheat harvest of General Mills. The building is huge because in the past served as an area of \u200b\u200bvast plains of northern Italy about how today is abandoned, but will become a monument to grandeur. I approach the barbeque, which is smoke the sign with the convening of the meeting of building and settlement for the use of common areas. I like the party for two reasons: it reminds me of the garage behind the veranda where I played football for small, is addressed to all the department of chemical engineering and there is none. They are friendly, do not talk about work and slowly they are all, without ever asking me questions trivial. They ask me to write that the United States are governed by an oligarchy of about fifty people who do what they want to disrespect the whole world. A Japanese begs me not to think that his countrymen are diventado insects: I say that I never thought about it, but inside me I can not see hard-working ants, but the hive or a swarm of thousands of cockroaches. No one was ever in Italy, but I explain that each one is partly due to Italian immigrant parents. Apart from the known carbonara, the boys of the department are primarily large GRILL, have placed two huge barbecue on the side of the square and they do not miss anything, every gift of God is offered by the owner, Dave, my most cordial and friendly office mate, which celebrates the end of the doctoral examinations. The pool is the attraction: two are obese cannonball in an attempt to empty it undeclared. One is a researcher with a long beard, the other a post-Doct in both working group and electrochemistry. We chat and drink a lot and everything flows with ease. A hit is my companion experiments, BM. "It is frustrating " he says. Swallowed homebrewed beer , shakes his head and clings to the plant is located, tearing two branches. From the pile of clothes next to the platform for diving takes a cap, puts the branches as the pen of a mountain and the whole system in mind. Resumed drinking, staggering, stretching out his hand to a girl's butt as he tries to talk to another. BM is very nice, I appreciate and I think a genius, but begins to worry because in two weeks he got drunk 5 times and sent a ball fifteen experiments. It's not something serious, I repeat not to be regarded that frustrating because it is very difficult and not at all immediate. What worries me is his mood swings. The outcome of the experiment goes to confide with confidence that is not religious, which is absolutely and an atheist who does not understand the meaning of the verb believe , and that does not accept that he is afraid. Then, it immediately becomes sad and shut up. Tuesday night he invited me to his house, a studio beside which I hygienist and rupofobo, because eating popcorn and potato chips piled on carpet I had never seen it done even by the most fanatical of Rotowash seller. The fridge has taken off all the shelves to fit a 5 gallon keg of beer, about 80 cm high with pressure reducer and small tank of carbon dioxide to tap. BM is an analogue machine with photographs of 70 cameras, makes developing and the best part: it's either a genius or a con man hanging pictures of Capra or Newton. The star the party is him, alternating moments of brotherly love, in which jumps, dances and embraces the present, with moments of anger, in which insults the guests in Italian (what I taught him) and in English. His favorite word is queer, flapping in my face constantly to anyone who passes by. The party lasts from 4 pm to 1 and 40 at night: the twenty minutes of the margin needed to get home before the road is illumianzione off. At the end of the festival, BM has so exceeded that someone thought to have said something prophetic and has sown the air in order to flourish the sky away that greetings between gays are wasted.

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Io, Fondriest e la bicicletta

Minneapolis, Dinky Town, Erik: bike cost me $ 100, the lock 60. If they have to steal something, take the lock and leave the bike. Erik comes in the form of twenty-five obese committed that satisfies my curiosity with incomprehensible jargon to which I always reply Jeez. I understand that I will be wrong, but I leave proud of my bike brand Jazz, vintage 1999, with Kryptonite U-lock that will give me super powers. After two meters, carried out in the alley right next to another and to the store with the set of Allen who gave me free, I lower the saddle, set a little pedals and trim all that the clerk had measured and modified with patience. I just in time to share that the salesman comes out the back door and greets me. There was a close one that broke his heart. I go to the lab and go out three hours ago. The evening is warm. To get back home there are a climb, a descent, a climb back longer, a plan and the final descent: stage rather varied talents are versatile. At the first climb I hear the voice of Adriano De Zan that pushes me to the finish, but after fifty yards turn back and leaned over the bridge and the West Bank. Minneapolis is a city with more miles of bike paths in the United States. I follow a path along the river, lit by lamps that send light yellow. The road is pianegggiante and sometimes leaves the shore and walk through the buildings. There's no one around, simply follow the rule do not plan to stay in fatigue. In the laboratory, all are passionate about cycling and I am bombarded with questions about the Tour of Italy. The question: Who won the last edition? I answered in sequence Petacchi, Basso, Savoldelli, and Cleto Fondriest Maol and I do not know if I guessed. To the question: what do you think of the scourge of doping? cry scandal giuìn are all the drug! inside me and I remember the picture that David S ***** i got when talking about his experience in cycling and amateur players that you were hiding in doping pears ghostly caravans on the roadside before Podenzano- Piacenza-Fiorenzuola. Without doping and with the precious lock I stop at a point where the river makes a bend in the center of St. Paul, after about an hour Padala. The Twin Cities are nice, no monuments or buildings to show, are two huge garden city dominated by the river and lakes. There is great variety in the landscape or architecture, more or less it looks like the bridge to Harriet Island or along the River. I stop, take some pictures and go back slowly, enjoying the rain began to moisten the air.

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Ho visto Lanny e Lanny ha visto me

Admundson Hall, Office 439: wind blows strong in the streets of Minneapolis. Fold the tops of trees, billboards and traffic lights to vibrate, raises gusts of dust along Franklin Road to be resurfaced. When the movement is channeled between the buildings, the speed increases and a hissing. The sparrows are huddled in the grass, sometimes seeking to recover arms trying to fly but fall a few yards away. I'm cold, even though the bank thermometer marks 95 ° F, about 35 ° C: I am not alone in the street people wear the sweatshirt. Lanny is made to S: in his own way maintains a certain harmony in the balance between the curvature of the stomach and back. The deformity enrolled him in the category of genuine scientists, those that inspire trust, and lay saints Passionara that have nothing to do with the scientist-manager or the mass media. A hero of his piece of science. He wants to give it's because you can not treat those who are informal in a formal way. I have no idea how to give you the English and the problem does not arise, but what I like, confirms my feelings. Tolerates teasing: in the laboratory sprouting photomontages, clippings and drawings of him with the body builder, dressed as Santa Claus while listening to a child-headed bearded student, with the body of the hydra by rocks or Mick Jagger, which bends to the microphone . They say that if the U.S. president came to his office, he sent him away if he had not time or stop to listen to the call of the student. Treat everyone equally and accept the advantages and disadvantages of this behavior. His physique has made him legendary and has shaped its character: it has a powerful voice, speaking without a microphone to the conference despite the head points downward. It makes me sit beside him. From the desk pretty much just check the head because the curvature of the chair goes back, sit as if it were sliding down from the chair, a position at the extreme Felice Caccamo. ATRA office chair, which made me sit up, it seems that the picnic for children and find myself curled up like the sparrows in the grass. The purpose has changed, removing the lever to raise it. Comments my data, the work of about two years. The day before, Lanny had organized a meeting where I had to present the same information to students and the group, with lots of sandwiches, slices of watermelon, cucumber and peanut sauce with butter, snacks and adjoining stalls. I do not think like them to Lanny's happenings (certainly not the world), because only he lacked the guests, who organized everything. He tells me that he had forgotten, but do not believe him. So I reply privately in his office. Join a lot, I had planned a 25-minute speech, but we go forward one hour between applications, data and insights. His opinion is cryptic, I try to interpret his expressions, but makes many Marcel Marceau in comparison is a pillar of salt. Sometimes it approached the screen, sometimes down in front of the shelves, sometimes directed his eyes to the certificates that cover the wall. Makes difficult questions and each time ahead of me: it is very nice discussion with him. Towards the end, sends a whistle, making room on your desk, retrieves a sheet and pin something. The episode is repeated after a few slides. When I conclude, looking at me and asks me why I do not write two articles about my work (someone must have made him a tip, I'm already doing) and asked me if for the third time I present them to other students. I interpret it as a positive. Then, do kindly approached, he rattles off his point of view. He says che secondo lui è meglio che io faccia altri esperimenti: userò un nuovo reattore, una nuova tecnica di campionamento, un nuovo software per interpretare i dati. Così smetterò di usare strumenti che se pur precisi, sono un poco passati e mi convincerò che l'interpretazione è un'altra , figlia di una diversa, più sofisticata, metodologia sperimentale. Sono proprio un pulcino: non so se rimanerci male o bene. Mi consiglia di prendermela comoda, ambientarmi e farmi piacere il caffè americano di cui avrò bisogno nelle nottate in laboratorio. Arrancando (mi vienie in mente Igor che porta le valige), mi accompagna fuori dall'ufficio. Oltre al portatile, in mano ho il plico di fogli con le bozze degli articoli. Dear Lanny has just thrown them out of the window inside of me, I look at them fly off the wind-swept and scattered somewhere in the streets of the city.

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Big Ale e la balla del venerdì sera

Minneapolis, Washington Avenue, we started at 6, accompanying the tacos with a round of Premium Beer. The pitchers are fresh in from two pints each and pay the mouth of a neighbor. The day is warm, we promised to return to the office after dinner and continue to work a little, but it is good and the windows you see the red sky in the windows of skyscrapers, interspersed with long, empty streets. Let's take another ride, another, fresh from the barber get P **** is added to the group B **** polimerizzazione, siamo in sei, ognuno paga il nuovo giro. Sono contenti che io regga il passo. Per spezzare, arriva un vassoio di JaggerBomb (Jaggermainster e Red Bull) e poi di nuovo birra. Si parla di croogers , di screw’em up , di bitches back in town e discorsi da spogliatoio maschile al liceo. Mi insegnano un campionario di insulti e modi di dire, si ride, siamo rilassati. P*** ha la moglie 24enne a casa (lui ha 26 anni) ed è il più impermeabile alle battute, capisco che gli interessa altro e gli butto lì una domanda politica. Non gli chiedo della guerra o della politica estera del suo paese, ma di cosa pensa delle vie europee al socialismo. Chiede agli altri di ascoltare perché is interesting and the situation quickly slipped into the debate. The beers are countless, the return to office is forgotten. Do not want to find out, they are all nice and do not want to offend them. Not involved. I have little to disagree, not because I agree, but because the principles are never questioned: they come out different points of view, but the rationale is that America is a socialist country rather than with issues to resolve, but essentially based on socialism. Me are made to repeat more than once. I have no idea what they mean at this point. It follows the concept that, as capitalism as the only working model, there are more or less socialist capitalism, but the only road to socialism is capitalism. I think the beers were already having some effect, there is talk of their foreign policy which they deem full of horrors, we glide into the bathroom and then to the cashier. They are $ 30 per person and a pint of beer costs $ 2 and a half. We did not know how much to drink, dance a crazy B **** starts dancing in the street, trying to climb to J **** light pole, walking to and thrust elbows. Let's go to another pub and another, always to shuttle between the counter and the bathroom. In the latter, a girl tries with B ****, the room is empty, the image is of their own against the two people dancing on a giant screen as it moves up to repeat summaries of days of baseball, football, hockey and basketball. The athletes are enormous, their two small shadows. He falls on the carpet, she laughs and walks away. Did not pick up her number. We go out and walk to the office to return things. It's three in the lab and when we expect there to R **, which had closed in to make experiments. We laugh, trying to throw away an aluminum ball (ie the experiment), then we return home, all live nearby in an area full of gardens and corners where to pee. The bush is moving to a rabbit and try to wet it with the jet, one escapes and passes between the legs of J **** chasing it zigzagged. It's a beautiful evening, cool, the river in the background and the auto giant under the arch of the bridge. I do not remember anything anymore, except for my new nickname: Big Al, I repeat it continuously. Maybe we have some European prejudice toward them. Will be repeated next Friday.

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A taste of Minnesota - down to the fun fair

St. Paul, Harriet Island: obese people all hanging in the delicatessen. Polizzi canatava the medium and the chorus came back to me as soon as I set foot on the bridge that separates the town from the waterfront park. The Independence Day celebrations are made, the queues at the stands ordered, strictly stream channeled by barriers and guards. For the first quarter mile is the feeling of being the party of the police rather than that of Twin Cities, poi l'impressione scompare e la massa umana sommerge tutto. I compagni del laboratorio sono socievoli (in due giorni di permanenza siamo andati al cinema, alla fiera e al parco a bere) e sono eccitati per i fireworks. Tutti sembrano esserlo, spuntano berretti con piccole fiammate in polistirolo, stelle luccicanti, marche di compagnie pirotecniche, strisce fosforescenti. Il gusto del Minnesota è una sorta di Sagra della Melanzana Ripiena di San Genesio moltiplicata per mille, con migliaia di spettatori disseminati in un grossissimo parco con lungofiume. I piatti tipici sono l'hot dog, l'hamburger, le salse piccanti, il cibo italiano modificato, il menù di campagna. Scelgo quest'ultimo e ottengo una pannocchia e un litro di limonata per $ 5. A preacher in civilian clothes walking against the crowd, holding a sign with an invitation to praise the Lord, sometimes it begins to sing and try to involve the herd that regularly sneers (guffaw and I will take it back in a video) and not follows. Goes around the park four or five times, then disappears. Happens to us very little. We sit in a meadow, bombarded by music that the orchestra repeat sounds God Bless America and other classics. We buy beer (there goes Jas because it is the only one that has the identity card with them), drink, chat. I am pleased to belong to the category of low-fat, while around me and tell sweaty masses trudging or fell on the ground nel tentativo di rialzarsi dopo il pic nic sull'erba. Sul tema obesità scriverò qualcosa (di banale) perchè è impressionante. I fireworks secondo me sono una delusione, ma non lo posso dire: durano mezz'ora, devono rispettare le norme di igiene acustica, non riempiono il cielo. Altro che capodanno napoletano, altro che preparazione della Falla valenciana. Ma la serata è tiepida, sull'erba si sta bene e qualcosa lo apprezzo davvero: lo pseudo dissidente nero che apre uno stand abusivo tentando di vendere cuffie e magliette con l'immagine di Chè Guevara. Il fiasco è clamoroso, qualcuno ha da ridire. In mezz'ora chiude baracca e burattini e fugge via con un grosso zaino in spalla. Direi è riuscito a trovare il residuato più unsold imaginable on Independence Day in the United States.

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È arrivato Zenigata

Minneapolis airport. My suitcase reappears on the conveyor belt along with the other coming from Phildelphia. I was not and I felt only the nth control of hand luggage, in which the officer shall give sympathetic consideration frame made from Thai newspapers with pictures of friends in Berlin. Thai a terrorist? A rebel Malaysian rogue state? Make no mistake, the policeman Smell the frame. Later, at home, I tried too, but does not feel even the smell of the press. At baggage claim I can not go wrong. Robert S ******** wearing a hat black with a yellow extension ponytail. The tail, although brief, is seborrheic. Blame the sweat that tempers when Bob runs the marathon: a sessantun'anni it takes five hours, but not interested. It's the first thing I said, my hat's good luck and do not change. He takes off his hat, and underneath is bald. He is a talkative and helpful and the two baggage door for me than three pounds, and I limped with one to thirty. He arrived with the van he uses for the household chores: ensures luggage from lots of concrete and a bundle of shingles, get the space in the middle of a pile of pipes, scrap metal, wood and touches of dried paint and lime. Asks questions to repeat: I wonder where Milan (not the has never heard), what I do work and do my thing. I wonder if it's ever been to Italy and he says that every two years for Paris with his wife. Hopeless romantic who does not know the geography . And the conversation would end in a quarter of an hour (so far is the house from the airport) except that after she announced that the junction between Minneapolis and St. Paul must be taken to Minneapolis, take the safe direction of St. Paul and we are forced to go around the city. He apologizes between a solace and a laugh, saying it was too late for him and soon to be operated for hernia, which causes him pain and distraction. The twenty-minute digression allows him to explain that his wife is in great electrical engineer, industrial engineer his daughter, his unit (hence the quote to Zenigata for fans of "The Furious", not because he eats an omelette, or why Commissioner). I look around: there is a finger Nature Valley Fruit & Nut Mix Trial opened on the dashboard, bitten and stuck in a cloth for glasses. On the ground, instead of the pad, there are newspaper caked with mud. Other bars are crammed in the glove compartment next to the exchange, the van has air by scrapping incentive. I wonder what the inspector is, certainly not health. I respect him very much. Takes me far from home and I'm glad to have the wrong road perché lungo le vie snocciola particolari preziosi, fra cui l’incrocio dove suo cognato ha fatto il tamponamento. È rustico e garrulo. La garrulità, per chi la volesse definire, è un incontinenza di parola, ma per chi la volesse visualizzare posso inviare un primo piano dell’amico Zenigata. Mi consegna le chiavi di casa, mi accompagna dentro e mi fa vedere che è tutto a posto. Come tocco finale lascia tre barrette Nature Valley sul tavolo in caso io abbia fame durante la notte. Dice che è meglio per lui se torna a casa sua e che ci sentiamo il giorno dopo per telefono. Abita vicino a Minneapolis, a solo un’ora e mezza di auto. Capisco che la geografia la conosce, è il concetto distanza che gli manca e vede l’Europa as a small place where everything is close to everything. It's nice to meet enthusiasts from time to time.