i’ve traveled alot, at different times and for different reasons in my “grown up” life. i love adventures to new places and meeting new people. i love learning about the world. one thing that has always remained consistent is my travel buddy:
the sandwich is not just a travel buddy, nor is it just a plastic lunchbox shaped like a peanut butter sandwich. it’s kind of my favorite thing in the whole world. we met at a yard sale in southington connecticut in 1995. it cost fifty cents. since then, i haven’t left my house without it. really.
i’ve taken hundreds of photos of the sandwich in front of various monuments and landscapes around the world. i think it’s much more interesting than seeing me as a dirty, travel-beaten backpacker stood in front of some beautiful or bizarre thing. the sandwich conveys a sense of whimsy, which is true to the tale of my sandwich self, or at least i hope. locals giggle at the foolish american taking photographs of her silly toy. i accept full responsibility for being a dork.
in 2003, dr friendly asked me to participate in a multimedia event at a great little place in san francisco called Aloft. i was inspired to finally put all my sandwich photos together into a neat little slideshow titled around the world in 80 sandwiches, complete with sandwich-themed music (courtesy of my good friend soren, who somehow found over 180 minutes of sandwich-related music on the internet). i thought it was about time to share it here on sandwichgirl.com
we’ve shared a lot of adventures, me and my sandwich. we intend to have many more.
the white house
camel races, virginia city, nevada
the david, florence, italy
i left the ice a year ago yesterday.
a year ago today i saw a one armed man and his small jack russell in a clown suit riding a motorized skateboard and thinking "ok, this must be weird for most people, but it’s double extra weird for me. i haven’t even seen a dog in a year."
got my boxer tattoo
got my sandwich tattoo
went to rocky horror picture show every saturday for 2 months
went to mardi gras in new orleans and survived
took a greyhound to new york (interesting)
visited my baby niece
got my first email address
got my first passport
left the country for the first time on a smoking flight to madrid
eurailed around europe for 6 months
turned 20 and watched the simpsons all day
did not have a digital camera or a computer
ate pizza with tunafish
worked on a farm
worked at glastonbury
picked snails in the north sea
hitchhiked around scotland
never heard of antarctica
ignored the world cup in paris
was caught in the middle of a huge riot on mayday in berlin
fell in love with prague
took pictures of my sandwich
returned to america with $70
enrolled in a TEFL program
was an au pair
lived in the ingleside
not necessarily in that order.
february 25, last flight out. it’s winter in antarctica again.
really? how is that possible? i raised my eyebrows when my winter buddies were deploying last month. kdub? moose? poobacca? what? how can that happen? we just left…when the summer was starting and… .holy crap that was four and a half months ago.
people had an entire season since then. shenanigans occurred. a santa got in trouble, congressional delegation said/did some dumb stuff, a captain got drunk and fired, someone saw a penguin for the first time and had a spiritual moment, and there was something about a kiwi spy plane. ah antarctica.
and as is what seems to be routine with last flight weather, it was truly last flight weather (as reported by
. ) i just imagine the gang, hanging around the deck of the chalet, holding full glasses of champagne, fingers freezing, waiting for that plane to come around ob hill and tip a wing so everyone can get on with their winter.
was out on the runway escorting that last plane in and has an interesting story about that, which no doubt he’ll get a nickname for.
it’s been a year since i’ve seen that last plane. weirdest day ever. like jumping into a pool of some mysterious liquid or gelatinous goo blindfolded, and are therefore unawares as to what kind of substance, if any, you are jumping into. i think that’s one way to describe it.
happy winter, guys. keep us posted.
the weekend before last, nik and i bicycled over to ‘lovers and other monsters’ put on by the thrillpeddlers at the hypnodrome. the ‘peddlers specialize in reviving grand guignol, bloody and bawdy theatre from 1890s-1960s paris. it was quite scandalous and controversial for the time, as whores and criminals and sex and violence had never not previously found their place as center stage characters. themes evolved to insanity and kinks and murder and sadism and perverts and more blood. i was inspired to read more about this grand guignol, and perhaps explains why i’m a fan of historical raw vulgarity like deadwood . grand guignol had “measured the success of a play by the number of people who fainted during its performance, and, to attract publicity, hired a house doctor to treat the more fainthearted spectators….The cleaning staff would often find the seats stained.” c’est tres interessant. and it gets much weirder than that.
thrillpeddlers put together this ridiculously fun show, with some theatrical intrerpretaions of h.p. lovecraft, a kinky reading of a children’s novel complete with hello kitty lingerie, 60′s ‘wiggle-wiggle’ music videos (before video existed), and of course the usual whores and blood. mel gordon presented a slideshow about parisian brothels during the time period of the grand guignol which was rather informative. i was not aware that some of the luxury brothels were designed for families, where children could play in a toy room and wives could walk in a garden and drink tea while their husbands… do the thing husbands do when they visit a brothel. as it turns out, there were also many theme rooms. the orient express room would actually rock side to side and women conductors would walk by, blowing whistles as the scenery would change. fascinating stuff:
jill tracy played a concert after all that. it was perfect. i don’t know why, but it just seemed to fit perfectly.
and at the end of the night we all ate pasta and a cake covered in blood and a beating heart. well, i don’t know if it was actually beating or not, but that would be pretty cool.
people, go out and watch more live theater.