While I should be studying marine biology right now and all it’s diatoms and phytoplankton and glacial drinking water, I instead of course find other things to do. While it’s not precisely blog material, I feel it necessary to convey who I am as far as a hospitable host and pull this from my “About the Couch” section on my couchsurfing profile (click that link to see it):

Deep in the heart of Long Beach lies a little apartment where two people wait everyday for the next couchsurfing request, praying and hoping to the gods of the ‘surf that soon the chosen couchsurfer will arrive to sleep on our couch….

Cool introduction, eh? I don’t see why Couchsurfing can’t be a mythical fantasy.

READ CAREFULLY: so we had an exchange student (alonso) move in and he lives on the couch. there is room for a second person on the couch, and he is comfortable with that. we also have an extra mattress that could squeeze a couple, either in my room or the living room. what this means: you will be sleeping next to someone–whether it’s me or good old alonso, you will be in my room or the living room. meaning please understand this in advance and don’t act weird when i bring it up.

we do walk around naked at times, also.

This means that I/we don’t care anymore: there are so many goddam people coming and going it seems that I’ve decided to scrap social/gender/respectable constructs and in the case of a full house just tell you your scant options–which very well may be in my bed–and tell you to deal with it. Yes, this continues with the fantasy.

you will leave a rule (if english isn’t your first language). on the kitchen wall we have the rules of the house in all sorts of languages, and you will add to them. you will also leave a note telling us how wonderful your stay was (in fact, you can write it in advance, as this will help define how wonderful your stay will be!–actually, you should do a rough draft before you come and then revise it before you leave).

I need to take a picture of our rules and post it for you few visitors to see. We have “1) Don’t cry in the living room and 2) Don’t call Jordan a big stupid.” in English, but that’s all. Little Lauren who stayed for a week or two looking for a place came up with these two as she said she was going to cry from all the spicy food I’d made her eat, and I told her no, crying in the living room is breaking rule #1. Then she called me a big stupid, so naturally things went from there. And we wrote them on the wall.

Following, we have “Respect the cunt” in Hebrew, “Don’t drink Jordan’s wine” in Serbian, “Clean up your shit” in Arabic, “Leave a note” in Swedish, and “Don’t walk around in your underwear in front of Christa” in German. It’s fun to have some ironic cultural twists in there, as saying “clean up your shit” in Arabic in Arabic-speaking cultures would probably get you kicked out of your family and ostricized from society and exiled to live in the Sahara until you die. Maybe. And “Respect the cunt” goes without saying. Israel is [essentially] America, as they grow up with the same music and movies and fast-food shit and we can understand each other’s pop culture jokes… and of course ‘that shit ain’t nothin but pussy.’

We drink a lot, I smoke outside because they make me, and we drink a lot. We also like to paint on the walls and play music inside the walls. I don’t really hit the ganj anymore but no problems here.

I smoke cigarettes inside when no one’s home, because I like to feel at home. No one fucking notices because it doesn’t stick to a goddam thing, but the principle means it just isn’t okay to smoke inside. I miss Europe. And windows.

The neighbors hate us because of my music. I say fuck them, too bad. Come tell me and I will turn it down and apologize. Since Alonso moved in, however, we play the radio mainly as opposed to my eclectic shit. It’s refreshing, actually, though commercials are just terrible.

We also don’t paint on the walls anymore.

I don’t hit the ganj anymore because I’m beginning to feel it’s just another way to keep a people complacent and stupid. Not that every stoner is lazy and stupid (quite the contrary in cases), but I feel the common proletariat who smokes because they enjoy it (plus it’s cool because it’s contraband) doesn’t give a shit about the problems we as the common peasants need to begin giving a shit about–and never will. So there’s that, plus just the fact that my mind thinks a lot more without it in my life. Perhaps too much, it’s driving me in malicious circles.

And I like it.

I used to be down with indefinite, longer stays but the problem is space now. If you’re one person you’re more welcome to be unsure of how long you’ll stay, two people we can handle 3 nights max unless things are going smoothly somehow, but generally- things get hectic.

I used to be all “travelers are travelers, we’ll make it work!” But now I’m like fuck it, it’s just inconvenient. This is SoCal bitch, there ain’t no patience for that shit.

I live with Christa, another student/couchsurfer who is a bit busier than I is busy like me, and Alonso (no profile), and we will welcome you. We already love you. We both have school and work so we can’t show you around all the time (but gods know i’ll try!), but if you’re cool with it you can come see California State University Long Beach, or even come with me to Hollywood while I work… Or you can just hang out and finish your novel. And of course, we’ll be around at night to watch the minutes slip by.. we normally keep it pretty cool.

I’d say this is a pretty large lie. I’m wrapped up in my routine. I don’t mind them adding them into my evenings and my usual deal, but I’m not sure if I’d sacrifice my free moments to go show a tourist the city or a good time, if it didn’t benefit me or offer me some sort of way to get something done. I am selfish, and I am proud of that.

Enlightening, genuine conversation nearly every night 100% GUARANTEED. I wish this weren’t true, it’s kind of making my head hurt. But you will hear about my homework and some era of French Literature and/or some esoteric parallels to society today and why it’s bullshit, rest assured.

Actually, my mind hurts and I think many think I’m a little loco at times because these conversations don’t fucking stop, in some weird way, and they never got a chance to get to know me before hearing all my ludicrous bullshit.

Please bring toilet paper if you’ll be a few nights–that shit goes fast (ba dum ch). Don’t feel awkward about bringing food and cooking, and know that when we cook we cook for everyone in the house–so please contribute as we are not as financially fearless as we’d like to be. If you can bring your own shampoo/conditioner/soap we’d appreciate that as well, it seems to disappear a lot faster these days.

Why the fuck is toilet paper ten dollars for 24 rolls?

Okay, so that’s my couch information. I won’t bother talking about the program and my experience with it, that’s a book in it’s goddam self. Maybe I’ll analyze/comment on my profile next time (isn’t the Facebook/Myspace/Internet 2.0 concept of making a profile about yourself an interesting one?).

Have fantastic weeks everyone. I’m enjoying nicotine withdrawals–no, I’m not “quitting”–it’s interesting to see how I deal with it and whether that’s the reason or not I end up smoking a cigarette at night.


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Another twenty some odd young adult who believes he sees things from a unique perspective. Here be my poetry & prose, short stories, favored school papers, rantings, and "blogs." Comment, critique, and profit.


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