Adventures - Tumblr Posts
Our trips 🍄 are filled with laughter, music, and memories that last a lifetime. From spontaneous dances to late night conversations under the stars, we make every moment count.
Yup. Pretty much
u think i am walking around the house with a blanket around my shoulders because i cold but in actuality it is my cloak and i am on an adventure
Imagine Your OTP
Imagine your otp both being time travels and constantly crossing paths on their adventures until one of them final confronts the other. They then continue going on adventures but together.
Is this the new beginning? Or will SOMETHING or more like SOMEONE will someone stop Crimsons new path?
I love dora the explorer ! 🤩
Do you like dora the explorer ?
dora the explorer 🗺️
unusual day in Milan❤️🍁 #drewissharing #drewsif #milano #duomodimilano #colonnesanlorenzo #amore #pic #sun #hot #friends #love #youtube #adventures (presso Milan, Italy)
kiss me under the light of thousand stars❤️ @drewissharing #adventures #youtube #love #hot #friends #milano #duomodimilano #colonnesanlorenzo #love (presso Milan, Italy)
I grabbed my giant stuffie dragon🐉 to snuggle while I game. I’m adventuring on dark souls 3, so my trusty dragon🐉 is by my side through all those evil boss fights and annoying mobs. Always Have a gaming buddy for those long nights 🐺
today's beachcombing haul:
▪a very mucky and partly rusted bracelet i intent to clean and wear
▪a spent shotgun shell casing - ill punch a hole in it and stick it on a necklace i think
▪a gull feather - idk, maybe a quill?
▪the shell of a sea potato (urchin), very cool, will probably keep in a jar, his name is herbert
It is true. It’s a sad fact. Even birdies cannot find any more places to explore.
Do not despair, young smallies.
Although there are perhaps less adventures then there were 2,000 years ago when 10,000 million birdies roamed free, there are still adventures of the heart and spirit. Thankfully, those journeys, my small friends, are the most important.
P.S. If you got sad from this post, PM me and I will send you a “<3″.
- Nathaniel Wyatt, Illustrious Writer of SmallComic
Drawings by Cristobal Colon
sea
I am so sorry just now seeing this but :o?
In which my sheer ignorance brings in to question complicated security.
Story time!
So. My career is somewhere in the bracket of "Theatre Technician". That's live theatre, not film house theatre. With that said, the same union governs hands for stage, concerts, television, and film sets. You ever sit all the way through the movie credits and see a sort of five armed star with letters in the arms? IATSE, that's us.
So in the wide field of our abilities and skills, often we're hired as workers to set up and tear down concerts. Sometimes it's a global tour, sometimes it's a festival one-off. I had a call of the latter type on the morning of the 31st. The job was taking apart a set that had been constructed for a ball room Halloween event at one of the nearby casinos in Niagara Falls. Show up, knock it down, bin the garbage, shove the keepers in a transport truck, call it a day.
Reminder I'm a motorcyclist.
Now, I'd never taken a gig at this particular venue before, and that's what initiated the amusing chain of events. Typically I'll show up somewhere and scout around for employee parking or bike racks or a security guard to ask, and 95% of the time people point me to an alcove or some bike racks or beside a dumpster. "Just tuck it over there," they say, "it's so small we don't mind." Saves me the hassle of walking twenty blocks in my space suit at two in the morning, which is both exhausting and stressful.
I left early to give myself plenty of time to find out where I could park. I showed up at the building, and it is huge. Not just a casino, but a hotel, a food court, a mall, multiple stages, huge. So instantly I know there HAS to be employee parking for the several hundred staff that keep something of that size working... I just had to find it.
So I pull in the main drive and see "park yourself 5$" and "valet park 10$". Perfect, I'll just ask a valet attendant. Except it's 7:30am and there's no one around. Shoot. Okay.
So I double back and drive down the curving ramp to "Park Yourself". And this was where it got fun.
Unless you're a rider, or know a rider who has bitched about this, you might not be aware that typically the sensors that have to do with gate arms at things like parking lots are not sensitive enough to detect motorcycles. That "No bikes or pedestrians" sign is basically because the technology isn't good enough to tell there's a rider there, and it's cheaper to put up an elitist sign than update your system. (The same is true for intersections at 3am, Glendale Ave and 406 South exit ramp I'm looking at YOU.) We don't trigger the weight/mass/metal or whatever the hell is needed to alert the system to change. So if you ever pull up to a stop light with a forlorn biker who starts beckoning you to drive forward, they're trying to get you to trip the light detector so you can both go.
Back to parking! So things like this are one of the many reasons it's easier NOT to "Just go to the lot like the rest of us" on a motorcycle. So there I was, pulled up to the parking entrance gate, and the automated ticket dispenser is having none of my shit. It won't even turn on. I poke the big green HELP button and nothing happens.
Now I'm stuck, because option one is turning around and drive back UP the curving IN ramp and hoping there isn't a car coming, or option two, which any good biker hooligan would resort to - driving around the gate.
So I drive around the gate.
Now I'm inside the underground parking with no pass and still have no idea where to park. So I head for the exit before security comes screaming after me for cheating their gate system. The exit has a staffed booth! Perfect!
I pull up to the attendant and explain "Hello, I've never been here before, I'm supposed to be doing a set tear down for (company) in (room name) and I'm not sure where to put my bike. I couldn't trigger the gate arm so I don't have the parking pass." The attendant nodded sagely, replying "yah, bikes don't, I have to manually hold the gate open for them to leave. Let me make a call."
So the attendant scoops up a phone and buzzes someone and repeats my story. Biker here to work, where should they go. Person on the other side of the phone says "ask valet". Attendant calls valet. Biker here to work, where should they go. Person on the other side of the phone says "come back around to the front and someone will show them". Perfect! They hold the gate so I can leave and I exit and loop around the block back to where I started.
Except there's no one there. A limo. Some taxis. No staff... Oh wait there's a person standing at the curb with a red staff shirt. I putter over and say "Hello! Were you the one waiting for me?" His confusion was evident. I continued "I was just at the underground parking attendant, I'm here for a work call and trying to find out where I can park my bike." His confusion deepened. "Why didn't you park it there," he asked, perplexed. "The sensor arm doesn't let bikes in," I calmly responded. The gears turned, and rather observantly he asked "wait so then how did you get to the attendant?" "Oh. I jumped the curb," I responded matter-of-factly, because I am a motorcycle, and do things like that. This stymies him for a moment, but he looks around and asks "How long are you gonna be?" "The call said until one," I answered; It did, but that ended up being a dirty lie on the part of the company and we all almost missed Halloween. He waved down the laneway ahead of us. "See that sedan? Just leave it in front of that, as close to the fence as you can."
This is exactly what I'd hoped for. I thank him for his time and scoot over to the indicated location, mindful not to block the "No parking or you'll be towed" sign affixed to the fence. First hurdle complete.
Strolling in through the front doors I scan the lobby for some indication of where I needed to be. None of the signage indicated my destination, and that's when I spotted security at the inner doors to the casino proper. Taking a moment to remove my full face helmet to look a TINY bit less like a hired thug from a Mission Impossible movie here to pull a heist, I approached the guard and presented my story. "Here to do a tear down in (room), never been here before, where go." He amiably points to another hall, directing me down to the end, take a left.
I wandered off through the mall concourse, down to the food court, and there on the left was the signage I needed. Down another, much posher hallway until I found the room full of road cases and scissor lifts, took my gear off, met the crew chief, proceeded to work.
Some hours later...
I jokingly mention my ordeal in the parking lot to one of the other members on the call with me. "Why didn't you just go to the contractor's parking?" they asked me, confused. "The what now?" I respond, equally confused. "Contractor parking. It's around back. And it's free." Well here's the thing. I didn't park in the 'contractor's parking' because none of the three separate employees (Not counting the two more over the phone from the lot attendant) told me 'just go to the contractor's parking.' Five people who all presumably knew the building and its features and no one said "workers park around back" when I said "I'm here to work." But that's fine, because everyone was lovely and helped me and parking beside a fence is free too.
"Well then how did you get in?" my brother member inquired. "Through the front door?" I responded hesitantly, because that seemed a sensible answer. "Did you stop by security?" he continued. "No?" I answered, feeling a nagging unease. "Then how did you get your access lanyard?" he asked.
At this point I start looking around and realize that every other person there has a white plastic permit on a lanyard around their neck.
"I didn't?" I stated flatly. Because I didn't know I was supposed to. Because none of the employees told me. Because none of my coworkers told me. Shit.
"Oh man, well, they'll chase you down later. This is a Casino. Security is really tight here. You aren't allowed in this part without a lanyard."
Except I very much was. In that part. Without a lanyard. Oh well. At that point I wasn't about to wander off from tearing the set down to get lost in the labyrinthine underbelly of access hallways, nor was I going to waste another crew members time making them show me where to go. I'd just fess up when security finally got around to chasing me down. I'd go fill out the paperwork. I'd trade my drivers license for a work permit, and continue with the call.
Another few hours into the gig and two security guards walk up to me. 'This is it,' I think to myself. 'They're going to scold me for not having a lanyard.' One guard points to me. Or rather, the flat beside me. "Hey, we were wondering. If that's getting thrown out, can we have it?" My brain skips a gear as it tries to readjust. It was being saved for the company since it was a 'good' 4x8 flat with no damage. "Shoot. Any idea where we can get something like that?" They were referring to the brick texture later afixed to the front of the flat. I confessed I didn't personally know (I asked the crew head, apparently lumber supply stores). They thanked me for my time and wandered off. And there I stood. Lanyardless. But hey it wasn't so bad because I was obviously working, in this one room, with other workers.
And then we started taking materials to the loading dock, which meant winding through the access hallways, bland beige concrete and motivational posters on cork boards and warehouses of alcohol and kitchen supplies. Surely. SURELY NOW. Passing by facility workers and supervisors and maintenance staff. Surely someone will point at me and glare and say "You can't be down here without a pass!" And I'll flail and blurt out "I'm sorry! I didn't know!"
But no one did.
Not by 1pm. Not by 6:30pm when the damn miserable call finally ended. Not after the call when I put on all my gear, including my helmet, and walked back up through the concourse, just to test my luck, as people shot furtive glances at what must be a terrorist come to rob their winnings. Not when I wandered back through the front doors and got on my bike parked beside the 'No Parking' sign next to high-roller shuttles and executive limos.
And that's how my sheer lack of knowledge of facility protocol basically invalidated everyone else's strict adherence to the system.
Because if I could just wander in and wander around. Couldn't anyone? What good is everyone turning in their photo ID to keep the building locked down if one person -doesn't-. Not maliciously, mind you. A bit experimentally, perhaps. Wondering how long I could pull it off.
It just goes to prove the old adage that if you look like you belong where you are, most people won't question you, but in today's high tension, terrorism alert climate, I'm not certain that's a good thing.
And next time I'll park in the contractor parking.
*Locations have been intentionally omitted because I don't want to get anyone in trouble.
the facts about italian restaurant service.
ziru was telling me i should update my tumblr more with writings about italy, and told me to write about my qualms towards italian food service that i was just telling her.
first things first, food is dam good. no hesitation there. nothing is a chain, every menu is made by the chef, daily specials that all restaurants do are dope, and every meal i eat leaves me feeling like i just did my body a favor. there have been times when after i took my first bite, i couldn't help but laugh at how delicious my roasted chicken with potato puree, grilled turkey breast over salad, or spicy spaghetti with the most amazing meatballs i ever had in my life, all were.
ok, the service. everything these italian servers do for you here is like they are doing you some big favor. i dunno if it's because we're foreigners, we talk in english, or if they're just lazy. it just sucks when you want to have a good, rather pricey meal for a change instead of eating at home all the time, and your server slaps you across the face. it should be noted that these restaurants are not in tourist areas, but the true italian neighborhoods of florence that tourists never step foot in.
what you need to know about italian restaurants:
water costs money. sitting down costs money. bread costs money. servers don't expect a tip, so they feel no obligation to be nice to you whatsoever if they don't want to be.
we complain that in america we have to tip, but water, bread/fries, and service are free. not only that, but the tip goes to our server, which influences them to be nicer to us, making us happy while we enjoy our food. that's a much better alternative to paying for water, cover charge, and bread, then being refused oil and balsamic when you ask for it. yes, we were told we could not have oil for our bread (even though they've given it to us all visits prior).. and all of those extra charges actually come out to much more than a 15% tip would, it's closer to a 30% tip.
so, now you know. tips are amazing thing that we take for granted, and this reputation that europe has about saving money because you dont have to tip is all lies.