What does it take? Sometimes, a happy song.

Sometimes, a sad song.

Perhaps I'll consider an old photograph of me and Whit, 2001 say.

And then I'll marvel at a new photograph of us, thanks to Dave for the capture.

I'll think about breakfast with Faye and I'll think about my swim yesterday and the cool lake water yet to come in New Hampshire. Okay, I can do this.

I was surprised to be caught so off-guard. Eric and I were sitting at Eugenio's drink stand on Cocktail Alley in Montañita, Ecuador. Every night this lane running to the beach would get busy, young folk stationing themselves in plastic chairs at carts filled with fruit, copious limes, and bottles of every conceivable hard liquor. We were drinking mojitos, naturally, and sitting across from Kate and Marie, two young women from England.

Marie repeated, "You guys talk like We Are Scientists."

I was astounded and delighted.
"You know We Are Scientists?"

"Of course: they're big in England."

"Um... I went to university* with them. They played on campus all the time. We were obsessed with The Creeper, you know, from their first album."

"Really? The Creeper? I've never heard of that song. I don't think that's on their first album..."

"Safety, Fun, and Learning?"

"With Love and Squalor?"

Le sigh. See, I don't blame the girl. We Are Scientists like to pretend that "Safety, Fun, and Learning" doesn't even exist. Boo. Therefore, I'm sure the guys, er, scientists won't mind my posting "The Creeper" here.

We Are Scientists - The Creeper

Kate and Marie thought we were, perhaps, 25 years old. Hah! Yeah, not so much.
We asked if they were 22. Nope: 19.

"Right, you would have been 11 years old when Safety, Fun, and Learning came out." And I declared, laughingly, "You definitely don't pass the half my age plus seven rule."

Eric and I switched to drinking Scotch. The Creeper, indeed.

* I am well aware Harvey Mudd College is not a university. One must speak thusly to be understood by English girls. University, not college.

On the morning of January 4th, I waited in the Miami airport and ate guava pastries. Brittney had arrived back in San Francisco that morning from Hawaii to find a package from me containing one DarkHorse Rainbow Pony fuzzy wristband. We exchanged photos of said wristbands, hers and mine, over airport wifi.

And then I flew to Costa Rica and then I took one hundred more morning photographs of my most important subject.

Sometimes I was not wearing a shirt. Frequently I had a cup of coffee. This was... is... Morning Carlos.

With changing light and backdrop, I would be hard pressed to measure my increasing and then declining tan. I forgot to flex my bicep in every single one so that's a bust, too. But my hair! Oh, my hair!

Go go go!

Oh, there it is.

Super Saiyan? Probably. Glorious? Definitely. Now, what to do with it... to cut or not to cut?

And, perhaps more importantly, when I finish this trip, to what song will I set the slideshow of all my portraits? Is there any song anyone knows, preferably a slow jam, called "I am so totally in love with myself (or maybe that's the coffee talking)?"

Spiral Staircase - I Love You More Today Than Yesterday

Imagine me, please, singing this to myself.

And so, I have been delighted lately to encounter contemporary bands employing this style in their music videos. I would like to share a few I have enjoyed of late, and I would love to receive any recommendations for other music videos or art in this style.

First, I offer the recent song "Oslo Novelist" by Grand Archives, depicting the adventure of a mustachioed spaceman slash novelist. What a job description! Did I mention he drinks red wine in a rocket? Winner.

Next, I present, as I have likely presented before, "Furr" by Blitzen Trapper. The video depicts the song's tale with original art, found illustrations and photographs. Be still my heart! As an aside, their album "Furr" has a handful of simply brilliant tracks and, despite lacking consistent quality, is absolutely worth a listen or two.

Lastly, I recently found "Camilo (The Magician)" by Said the Whale. I am reasonably certain the little boy, who is always catching on fire (1:47 is AMAZING), is rendered with computer graphics but the style is the same.

Enjoy, and please share!

I have never spent a Christmas apart from my parents. If this were a competition, I would note that my sister, Nicole, once spent Christmas in México during college. (What, Nicole, what?) When will I break this pattern, and for what reason? I cannot yet imagine, or rather, the life matters I can imagine are so so far away from me.

I will revisit now my promise to Nicole that I would return to Massachusetts (if and) when she and Mark have children. This promise stands firm, with no regard for its resultant emotions, good and bad, on various coasts, east and west. Babies! Also: possibly temporary move!

On December 11th, at my going-away party, I made a promise to my closest Seattle friends that I would return to that fair city for my next birthday. I stand firm here, again, whether or not I was drinking whiskey sours when the promise was made, and whether or not Sarah makes the best damn shepherd's pie. Which she does. My friends, I made a promise but I need not have: I love you all and I will be back. Sooner, and December 9th, 2010, and later.

I gave my word once, and I broke it, and I have continued to break it over and over again. Specifically, I promised a girlfriend that I would not talk on the cell phone and drive at the same time—my adherence to such lasted through the end of our relationship. Now, well, I will not discuss my specific iPhone habits while driving but suffice it to say that they are AWESOME. Um, sorry?

The remaining promises I make, the commitments I hold dear and true, are nothing more than whispers into winter air. I am a free man, unfettered: catch me before I float away on a warm breeze. Catch me, hold me down: I promise that I'll promise you whatever you like, especially if it's bourbon.

Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.

This story is impossible to write perfectly.

This story is a smell and a feeling and a smile and three years and a half years of big life changes and rain. Seattle has treated me well and for that I am thankful. I have experienced such fantastic joy and friendship and love and growth and food and coffee here.

But I have been sad in Seattle as well and often a bit lost. I could simply continue my life here, and such would not be disagreeable, but I would do so lacking faith and ease in the direction of my life. If you have spoken to me in the last year, you know this feeling of mine and you are familiar with my uncertainty.

I awoke this morning in a cave created by my soft, cozy bed and my cold room and the growing rain and dark outside of Seattle autumn. I knew, upon waking, that I would be purchasing a one-way plane ticket from Boston, Massachusetts to Liberia, Guanacaste, Costa Rica for January 4th, 2010. One-way, in that I am not returning to Seattle following my month working and surfing in sunny Tamarindo. I am leaving Seattle on December 22nd, eight weeks from tomorrow. This is real.

Yes, I know that is really super soon and I know that you will miss me. I will miss you, too.

The beach, and the waves, and all of Latin America beckon and what can I do? If not now, when?

I will continue from Tamarindo to Bolivia and I will live there. I will live in the country where my father, Federico Antonio d'Avis, was born and I will connect with my family there and I will find the street in Cochabamba that shares my name and that of mi abuelo, Doctor Carlos Andrés d'Avis. I will live in Chile and I will live in Argentina. I will eat salteñas. I will climb Machu Picchu, as I have dreamed of doing since I learned of its existence over two decades ago.

I will remember what it is to feel challenged in the minutiae of my daily life and I will remember how to speak Spanish well and I will find time alone in my head. I will think about where I live and where I have lived and how I want to live the rest of my life. I will think about how to find love and whether that is actually defined as someone to have babies with in the next ten years. And I will, of course, be updating Twitter and continuing work as a web developer. Honest, I asked my clients! They said I could!

And I will return... probably. I mean: totally. Yes, I will totally be back to the United States in June. I cannot promise where I will live when I return. I don't even have a flight out of Costa Rica yet so, please, be patient. I love you, and all the Malbec in Mendoza couldn't change that.

I woke up this morning and I was thinking about my drive into the law firm this morning for consulting and I committed myself to listening to this song on repeat in my car until I know all the lyrics by heart, in my sleep, underwater. Listen up, for serious.

Oh, right, I stay awake this late all the time when I have work to do. Um, okay, moving on to my actual topic.

Ahem.

I fly tomorrow morning to meet my sister, her fiancé, my parents, and eventually more of our family and Mark's family and their friends, for their marriage in Oaxaca, México. My sister, my Colie, is getting married.

Holy shit.

And by that I mean that I am incredibly happy and thankful for Nicole and Mark's love for each other and for this opportunity to celebrate this love with them. But, seriously, my sister is getting married. And then? Everyone else in the world is getting married, too:

• Claire Fisher and Whit Scott
• Laura Fisher and Matt
• Kristin Schwabauer and Scott Rydbeck
• Matt May and Rachel Sharpe
• George Brown and Colleen Cunningham
• Amy Moran and Don Lowe

Laura, I am sorry that I cannot make your wedding but I am happy to have talked to you today and I do want to visit Boulder. George, if you're reading this, I am not fishing for an invitation: I would just like to congratulate you and highlight how far you and Matt May have come since we were playing Resident Evil and Magic: the Gathering. Whit and Claire, I promise to do my best as Best Man Ever (Other Than Whit, and Who Is Not Allowed to Look Better Than Whit on Whit's Wedding Day).

Goodnight, and may all awake with love and happiness. And may I please please manage to wake up for my plane flight. Please.

Half of a Weekend (or a Little More, Maybe)

January 23, 2009

• 5:05 PM Sunset run on the beach followed by ocean dip and drinks
• 6:00 PM Depart Tamarindo in 7/8 full Toyota Prado with one 40-ounce of Imperial
• 6:01 PM – 7:29 PM Pass around a million cars
• 7:30 PM Stop on side of street to buy two bottles of vino de coyol (palm wine) for $2 each
• 7:33 PM Stop on side of street 100m later para cenar at a tiny family restaurant
• 8:00 PM Discover that palm wine does not actually cause the advertised blindness
• 9:30 PM After some moderately difficult uphill dirt roads, discover at bar, with swim-up service and sign offering "Informacion de Monteverde," that we are actually still quite far away
• 9:33 PM Turn up nearly hidden dirt road next to church for 45-degree incline rocky dirty joy
• 9:45 PM As the road winds and climbs and climbs and climbs, begin somewhat nervous but mostly manic and joyful laughter. Increase volume on music.
• 10:15 PM After climb has leveled out, stop on ridge and turn off car lights to consider amazing vistas and stars and to pee.
• 10:55 PM Reach Santa Elena and Hotel de Sueños to reunite with Slepak of Safety 3rd fame
• 11:15 PM Head out into the nearly dead quiet Santa Elena to find a bar and a beer
• 12:00 PM Beer success! Then! Sleep!

January 24, 2009

• 01/24 7:00 AM Good morning!
• 7:15 AM Breakfast at the Hotel
• 8:00 AM Depart Santa Elena in 8/8 full Toyota Prado to Selvatura Park.
• 8:30 AM Begin zip-lining at Selvatura. See Quote #1.
• 9:00 AM Did I mention we were zip-lining? High high above the ground through a rainforest? Amazing.
• 9:30 AM Arrive at "la sorpresa." The surprise was, somewhat unsurprisingly, a Tarzan-style swing from a huge-ass platform.
• 10:15 AM Finish zip-lining with a few last nice rides.
• 10:30 AM Early lunch at Selvatura restaurant.
• 11:45 AM Head off hiking in local nature preserve
• 12:30 PM Climb closed-down observation tower for more amazing vistas of surrounding jungle
• 1:45 PM Become disgruntled with constant, sticky mud and its propensity to detract attention from surrounding flora and fauna
• 2:30 PM Complete hike, return to car for drive to Monteverde village
• 3:00 PM Shop for arts and crafts in Monteverde with way clutch coffee and peanut butter brownie refueling
• 4:45 PM Depart Monteverde and begin drive back to Tamarindo
• 4:46 PM Be convinced by three passengers in extremely tight back back seat that we should take the slightly less scenic but far less treacherous and bumpy route home
• 5:30 PM Stop at roadside of low ridge to watch the sunset and polish off the palm wine
• 7:30 PM Dinner in Cañas at seafood restaurant. Ceviche = good; sopa negra = not so good
• 9:00 PM Very nearly completely memorized Track #6
• 9:01 PM Finally stop listening to Track #6
• 9:45 PM Arrive home in Tamarindo, unload car, jump into our pool
• 10:15 PM Start playing Siete-Once-Dobles
• 10:17 PM Remove shirts and don sunglasses to increase Siete-Once-Dobles skill
• 10:33 PM Stop game after finishing five 40-ounces of Imperial between six thirsty, road-worn men
• 10:40 PM Remove sunglasses and don shirts; head out to Babylon for drinking and dancing
• 11:00 PM Cerveza! Bailando!

January 25, 2009

• 1:00 AM Más cerveza! Más bailando! See Quote #2.
• 1:30 AM Unquotable, indescribable moment(s).
• 2:00 AM Walk home on the beach, stopping to consider stars.
• 2:30 AM Arrive at home
• 3:00 AM Bailey makes scrambled eggs with extreme difficulty cracking egg shells on plastic bowl: nearly fall asleep with face in plate of aforementioned delicious eggs
• 3:25 AM Sleep! Wow!

Driving Playlist (On Repeat: We Only Had 1 CD)

1. Led Zeppelin – Over the Hills and Far Away
2. Curtis Mayfield – Move On Up
3. Us3 – Cantaloop
4. Jurassic 5 – Concrete Schoolyard
5. Arrested Development – People Everyday
6. MIA featuring Bun B and Rich Boy – Paper Planes Remix*
7. Kanye West – Homecoming
8. Vampire Weekend – Cape Code Kwassa Kwassa
9. Regina Spektor – Hotel Song
10. Paul Simon – You Can Call Me Al
11. Old Crow Medicine Show – Wagon Wheel
12. Modest Mouse – The Good Times Are Killing Me
13. The Who – Baba O'Riley
14. Talking Heads – Once in a Lifetime
15. The Moldy Peaches – Anyone Else But You
16. Puff Daddy and Faith Evans featuring 112 – I'll Be Missing You

10 Simple Rules of Siete-Once-Doble

1. Stand around table with two dice, one shared cup for beer, and beer source.
2. Roll dice, taking turns and passing counter-clockwise.
3. If one rolls a seven, eleven, or double, assign the (quarter- to half-)cup of beer to someone else
4. As soon as assigned drinker touches cup to start drinking, roller tries to roll another seven, eleven, or double.
5. If the dice settle with one of the combinations before the drinker puts down the empty cup, the roller refills the cup: return to Step #4 with same drinker and roller.
6. If the drinker puts down the empty cup before one of the combinations is rolled, the roller refills the cup and the dice are passed to the next player.
7. At any time before the drinker touches the cup, any player can steal the cup from the drinker and become the drinker. The same rules apply to the new drinker for finishing the beer before a siete-once-doble roll.
8. If the roller touches the dice before the drinker touches the cup, the roller must finish the cup and the dice proceed to the next player.
9. Do not wear a shirt (optional).
10. Wear sunglasses (not optional).

Food I Have Eaten

• Casado de bistek
• Casado de pescado
• Casado con chuleta
• Gallo pinto con huevos
• Gallo pinto con queso
• Gallo pinto con bistek
• Tostada
• Pizza Selvatura (chicken, olives, anchovies, and eggplant)
• Every fruit
• Every fruit, in juice form

Quotes from the Weekend

• "I'm just playing with my equipment." "Somebody's got to do it."
• "You can dance near me, but you can't dance with me."
• "It's cold today: I'm glad I wore a shirt."
• "Her name is Beretta and she's m-----f---ing crazy."*
• Yeah, I think I should stop sharing these…

Wow, yeah, that was quite the weekend.

* At the point on the drive home at which we'd already listened to the whole CD numerous times, we decided to memorize the lyrics to the Paper Planes Remix. Queue repeat. I'd say we did pretty amazing but we did mess up a few lines. For example, apparently it's not that "you need more than a helicopter to stop us" but rather "a million cops." Who knew? Additionally, if you undertake such a task, the hand motions on the chorus are absolutely vital.

I wrote the following entry on Monday, September 22nd, the day after our sectionals tournament. I was unsure if I should publish my frank thoughts and they were relegated to the drafts folder—all but forgotten—until now.

The two days following our loss were particularly bad but I regained some perspective as the week progressed and immediate work responsibilities occupied me. Teammates chimed in, reminding us all of the months we had spent together, irrespective of wins and losses, and many of us reunited to celebrate Foster's imminent departure for Argentina.

And so I find myself ready to move on, to find joy in my season with Shadrach, and to put aside regret. Here then are my somewhat less lighthearted initial reactions and a somewhat vague conclusion, or lack thereof.

As if I awoke in autumn, Thursday morning was cold and dismal. And the weekend of sectionals was ushered in with gray and rain. Shadrach suited up with energy and excitement and fire.

And we lost all the games that mattered: D'oh, Shazam and Moonshine. We did not qualify for Regionals—congratulation to those mentioned above—and our season screeched (crashed?) to an unexpected and painful stop. There were moments of greatness and quality throughout and our defensive team was truly heroic in its attempted comebacks against Shazam and Moonshine.

But we lost.

And I played poorly—insignificantly. I had no appreciable positive effect on any of the three important games. I never felt that I was particularly involved, playing three points each against Shazam and Moonshine. My single point in the second half against Moonshine, in the game to go, I caught one and dumped it and then caught another and threw it away. I was disgusted with myself and felt disconnected from whatever part of me produced good Ultimate. Turned off.

So I didn't play again. I cheered and yelled and talked to our defense and did whatever I could to help from the sidelines. Despite a 4 – 8 deficit at half, we caught up to Moonshine at 13 – 14 before they scored the final point and sealed our fate.

I was shocked and humbled and devastated. We had worked for nearly six months to build Shadrach and the team's season was done far sooner than we could have imagined. There was nothing I could do or say. I wanted to apologize to the team, but for what? Instead I just kept quiet as we had a brief post-game huddle and then collected our belongings for departure.

Listen to "The Worst Day Since Yesterday" by Flogging Molly

One season ends; what begins? I've left NeonGecko and I work freelance. I'm still lonely. So it's autumn now, it's the fall. And I suppose it was time for some new colors around here anyway.