we are only made of air and dust

Usually I prefer the classic "And then I fell over."

I just finished reading Iris Bahr's Dork Whore, a painfully hilarious, bittersweet and candid memoir of the author's travels through Asia. Actually, the tagline for the book is "My travels through Asia as a Twenty-Year-Old Pseudo-Virgin." How could I not pick it up with a premise like that? Iris is fresh from serving in the Israeli army and is itching for some adventure away from the familiar, away from her mom and away from her issues. And also, she wants to get laid. Iris, I understand you. I really do.

There's quite a bit of questionable behavior and slightly eye popping escapades going on, and sometimes I entered 'protective friend' mode and said, "Oh, Iris, no. HE IS NOT A GOOD MAN. FLEE! FLEE! AND USE CLOROX!" and sometimes I wanted to smack Iris for just engaging in some just incredibly stupid endeavor that I knew would blow up in her face (sometimes literally), but I vaguely remember being 20 and thinking quite erroneously, that the world was at my feet and everything was ripe!ripe! for the taking and indulging, and wait, my idea of a party is to be in a library, surrounded by tip proof iced jugs of delicious beverages and music playing in the background, ANYWAY, it really was like just listening to a braver/drunker/more unfiltered friend telling you all of her unsavory sexual exploits and you being repulsed and yet RIVETED at the same time.

A excerpt:

Hey, let's be honest here. We all have sherpas carrying our packs. That's the Israeli way. Three years of military is enough to make even the most avid trekker a lazy ass. Not that I spent my army time lugging the wounded to safety. But still, there's absolutely no reason to suffer needlessly, that's our parents' job.

These sherpas are just as astounding as the scenery, the way they prance up the trail barefoot, carting three, sometimes even four rucksacks on their backs, as if they were lumps of cotton candy.

Other nationalities look down upon the use of sherpas. We've already run across some Danes and Aussies along the trail, all sherpa free. For what? To prove you can carry heavy shit? Stop trying to be so independent in the wilderness, what good does that do anyone? None. Especially the poor sherpie you're depriving of a steady income.

The next book I'm going to read is Yakuza Moon: Memoirs of a Gangster's Daughter by Shoko Tendo. I picked it up mostly because it's a subject that hasn't really been explored much, and because the photograph of a woman with Yakuza tattoos all over her back was stunning.

Next weekend is going to AX, and I haven't so much looked at the programme. I should really do something about that - I have a horrible feeling I'll wander aimlessly around the auditoriums/hotel/convention hallways and end up accidentally strolling into a nest of otaku gun fights or something.

I'm really excited about seeing Anna - there were recent candids posted of her in Moscow, and really, her beauty just made me kind of sigh all swoonily. SKIN (supergroup of Gackt and Miyavi and some other guys) should be interesting too, and at least I can finally see for myself if Gackt is actually a vampire or whatever.

Oh, and I must know. Are Israeli men really that good looking? Badly phrased, I know.