Killing Batteries

(Advanced apology to non-US citizens reading this post. This may not affect you. Or maybe it will. Or maybe you’re even more screwed. It’s too early to tell.)

I’ve just been forwarded the latest US Consular Information Sheet for Italy. It’s business as usual in the entry requirements section, at least for the first paragraph:

“A valid passport is required. Italian authorities may deny entry to travelers who attempt to enter without a valid passport. Visas are not required for U.S. citizens for tourist visits of up to 90 days.”

Well thank Buddha for that. Now I can plan that one month Tour con Lamborghini that I’ve always wanted to do. Awww yeaaaah. Fast cars, loose women and… Hold up, what’s that in the second paragraph?

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WTF is up with this weather?

Yes, Minnesotans, I’ve been home for less than two weeks and I’m already complaining about the weather. A new record.

I didn’t even think about a weather report while I was abroad for four and a half years. Now I scrutinize forecasts daily, dissecting and highlighting all the parts where the meteorologist was wrong. Which is always lately. And I can’t even blame them much. With these new, freaky, end-of-the-world weather patterns, who could possibly predict this stuff?

Every day these morning news weather schmucks get on the air, standing in their courtyard, open-air weather set, holding a ludicrously wide umbrella, armed with a forecast that someone probably spent half the night analyzing, calculating and compiling and the instant they open their mouths bleating about how it’s going to storm all day, the sun breaks through and shines for the next ten hours. And vice versa. It’s like trying to predict how bad a fart will smell.

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Perhaps I’ve mentioned that freelance travel writing isn’t a cash cow career path. It’s more like a cash squirrel career path. And not those fat, waddling squirrels in Central Park either. I’m talking those emaciated, wild-eyed squirrels you see on safari, that are so deranged from malnourishment that they’ll mix it up with six lions and a crocodile for a bite of baby water buffalo…

There are no baby water buffalo wandering around the Killing Batteries Command Center in downtown Minneapolis, but there are a few sushi places with good lunch specials. Furthermore, I need new glasses. So I’ve daringly decided to test the upper limits of freelance travel writing earnings potential, turning my back on the Poverty Line and clawing like a starving, nearsighted squirrel for the Sushi Line.

The Sushi Line, a concept cleverly hatched by my distinguished Lonely Planet colleague Robert Reid, perfectly encapsulates the income and resultant lifestyle I’m aiming for. Living at the Sushi Line doesn’t mean a five bedroom house with high-end home theater components or a diamond studded Blackberry or a custom painted Vespa… Well, a Vespa wouldn’t hurt, maybe with a classy little horn that plays “La Cucaracha”?

The Sushi Line is, in fact, a very modest standard of living. Mr. Reid sums it up like so:

“I have a theory that all humans are born with the right to live at or above ‘the sushi line,’ meaning you have the means to go and get sushi whenever the desire arises. Not every day. But when the occasion comes up, you don’t have to count pennies. Just go, eat, enjoy, get the green-tea ice cream. Write a poem, relax. Next day ramen will be fine.”

That’s all I’m asking. And some waterproof hiking boots.

Meanwhile, does ‘Sushi Line’ belong in the popular lexicon or what? Since I’ve given up all hope on ‘jackhole’, I’m going to refocus my broad influence on popular dictum and start pushing ‘Sushi Line’. Please lend a hand. I want Jon Stewart to use it on the air before Thanksgiving.

My phone is better than your phone.

Well, at least it is until someone releases a phone/Blackberry/organizer/web browser/coffee grinder/dialysis machine/keychain. But until that time comes, please bow down to my gadget superiority or suffer the consequences, ingrate.

You have an iPhone you say? I chew up and spit out your sissy-bitch iPhone. No wait… I slice up and grill your iPhone in extra virgin olive oil, lightly peppered, and put it in my Caesar Salad with croutons, extra onion and black olives, then chew it up and spit it out cause I hate olives.

A week ago Thursday, exactly four days after it hit stores, I became the proud owner of a Blackberry Curve. I got the silver, because the gold was just a little too Dolce & Gabbana for my sensible, Mid-Western, I’m-so-cool-that-I-don’t-have-to-try-to-impress-because-if-you-can’t-see-how-cool-I-am-at-a-glance-you’re-too-lame-for-me-to-worry-about-anyway-jackhole attitude that all humble Minnesotans possess.

It was such an exquisite geek moment. I was so cutting edge, that even the salesmen didn’t have their own Curves yet. They feebly fondled their pitiable Blackberry 8800 series phones which, I’m sorry, are as big as a whole deck of cards, while I effortlessly performed miracles of technological geekery on my Curve. All hail His Majesty Leif, Emperor of the Nerdnited Kingdom and the Technocratic Commonwealth!

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Hi all. What’s new?

Me? Well, I tweaked my neck lunging for a high toss while I was juggling last night and I’m still somehow jetlagged a week after returning home to Minneapolis which is probably a sign from God that I should drink more cider before bed.

If you’ve been the die-hard, drooling dedicated readers that I imagine all seven of you are, you may be aware that my time blogging about Romania over at Gadling has come to a close with this post. You know what that means, don’t you? Yes, posts here will resume shortly. Or longly. I really don’t know. I’m finding it hard to struggle upright and make writing time between sprawling on the couch mostly nekkid, discovering new blogs, watching “Deadwood” and “24″ DVDs and eating whole chocolate bars, washed down with a half gallon of skim milk all in one sitting. The American Dream, indeed.

I’m kidding of course. I love you guys. I wouldn’t go that long without posting something new, particularly as I have just acquired one of the greatest gadgets invented since shoes. It is, of course, battery-driven. Very on-topic. More soon.

Finally, on the subject of blogs, now that I have all this free time and unfettered internet access, I’ve decided to start collecting blogs that I plan to read on a regular basis. Seeing as how I expect people to hang on my every word, I figured it was time to give back to the community. Suggestions for writing, travel-related or just plain hilarious blogs much appreciated.