ICELAND Day 2: The Bill Clinton Edition
“I can’t wait to show Iceland the double flannel…”
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All I wanted was that fucking hot dog. I made the plans. I did the research, I read the opinions written in the guest comment book back at our hostel. The Bill Clinton hot dog. Apparently our Ex-Commander in Chief was visiting the island of Iceland and stopped by this hot dog stand near our very fair accommodations. He ordered a hot dog in a manner that amazed the locals down to the viking ancestors they buried so needless to say they named it after him. I guess I could have saved myself an argument if I would have just googled exactly how he ordered it…
But fuck that. The stand was just a few block out of the bar hopping route that I had planned. This bitch left me awake by myself to figure it all out while she took a fucking nap. I couldn’t sleep. I was high (on life) as fuck. Shit I had just scaled a glacier and saw the most amazing waterfall in the history of water and falling. We just toured the Volcano fields where the North American and European tectonic plates met. A beautiful elaborate row of mountains as if the earth was a roll of bread and God was about to tear a piece off but then changed his mind, leaving only his thumb indent on the crust. I saw a pool where witches were drowned and the rock where nordic democratic law was created. I saw horses that looked like mangy yet majestic ponys and a steam plant I’m convinced is the answer to Americas energy problems. Motherfucking Icelanders tagging up on trailers located in the middle of no where like, who’s ever going to read this? I did! That’s who. Graffiti that started in the slums of New York City now decorating the furthest remote parts of civilization??? This is mind-blowing. Every photo I took had me waving my Dominican flag, wearing a smile reserved for people who win the lotto or beat murder charges. A Dominican Spic from Harlem discovers Iceland was the New York Post headline in my currently bedazzled mind. My childhood sense of discovery volume was turned up to ten like a boy who just learned how to walk, dress, and apply for college at the same time. I was a pen and 30 maps away from looking like a hipster Jacques Cousteau, dizzying our concierge with colorful tourist questions about where too and what now? A whole other 45 minutes modeling even more colorful outfits in our room while Kara slept. The Double Flannel. Who the hell wears such obnoxious patterns together?! This guy.
My girlfriend on the other hand, has traveled before.
Her pace was timed like the most expensive clock. This is a girl that uses the schedule and alarm functions on her Black Berry to military precision. To my understanding those where just extra icons on the phone that kept me from checking my Gmail faster. I knew she was excited for me, but she was also exhausted. I was trying to cram 1000 tours into 24 hours.. she just wanted to sneak a nap in. Fine. She got her nap. Why is she not letting me eat my hot dog? Cranky? Is it because I woke her up? I couldn’t sit in the hostels lounge anymore, the room was filling up with these teenagers on a school trip from London. If you think kids are annoying try a room full of them with British accents and questionable dentals. Iceland was getting louder and sexier and more and more available and I wanted to fuck all of her. Kara is looking at me with clouds in her eyes and a little bit of lighting in the forecast. My excitement has now turned into her 8th day of dog sitting and she was only supposed to have it for a week and god damn it doesn’t stop barking. She doesn’t know where I’m going. I tell her. She doesn’t know what to wear. I roll my eyes show her. I got it together. I planned everything. I’m so fucking secure right now – LET’S GO LOVER the nordic night awaits us.
Then we got to the hot dog stand.
“I don’t want to eat here…”
“But babe, I just wanna try this hot dog Bill Clin….’
“Why are you so mad?”
“It’s so fucking cold out here is this the only place we can eat now?!”
“Babe you was sleeping… I made these plans… I told you what I was doing before I left…”
“Just get your hot dog I’ll just eat somewhere else…”
“But you wasn’t even hungry, and you said you’d give it a…”
And that’s when I lost my well described shit.
Thor is the Norse God of Thunder. He is a Deity of lightning, storms, fertility, strength, destruction, healing and death. Just like one is God of his or her own emotions, decisions, ideas, destiny and character. We are responsible for the sun light or storms we put out into our world. The fire and water that is used to forge this planet into life is as simple as the tone of your voice or the reasons behind your empathy, setting the defining tone of your life. Creation can be as complexed as the 6 days the Catholic Lord needed to create the universe or the spark you get when you see a travel pamphlet and decide “hey I want to go there”. When Thor was unhappy he rained noise and light on Iceland just like when you’re disappointed you hurt and fight. He also fertilized the soil with his seed just like a simple gesture can be the seed that grows compassion and a promising future. You have to assume if something is anyway it’s because God, or the Gods, willed it. Just like any given situation in your life now, they are how they are because you have willed them.
I only know Thor from what I used to read in Marvel comic books. Thor was sent to Earth from Asgard by his father Odin as a lesson in humility. He was given the human form of a crippled Doctor Donald Blake and in that form he fell in love with a nurse by the name of Jane Foster. They lived together for 10 years until Odin supplanted a thought in Donalds head to travel to Norway for a vacation. There is where he discovered he was actually The Almighty Thor. In the following years Thor would have to chose between his mortal love Jane and his childhood love the goddess Sif. And here I am in Iceland… Choosing between the godly Kara vs the mortal Kara. The godly one being the perfect girl who did everything pretty and dainty and was the pillar of my wildest imaginations. The mortal one was the girl that’s afraid of bugs and gets a little insecure, very indecisive, and needs you, even if it’s to bitch at and fart in front of. She’s gonna drive you crazy with questions and veto everything you suggest. She’s flawed, She’s human.
Eventually Sif grew bored with Thor and his fascination with being Thor The Hero and returned back to Asgard while Jane fell in love and married a mortal.
I will not be that Thor.
She wont let me. Behind her watering eyes I’m reminded of my humanity and humility. No one is perfect. Nothing is going to go your way no matter how hard you prepare at least half of the time. You can take a vacation from your life but you can’t get away from the Murphy Law’s of life. I don’t even remember why we were fighting anymore. Something to do about my stupid ego and me wanting to take charge and show her the world as she has consistently shown me. This is my best friend. I toss the map and go old school and start to ask for directions. We find a gay bar with the best dance party you could ever find on a Wednesday. The place, fitting enough for a Queen, was called the Barbara. Beer after beer after whiskey and more whiskey, we dance as hard as we fought. Our walk back to our hostel is a stumbling rendition of “Yo No Hablo Americano”. A pizza crust fight and a stolen orange juice later I draw a mustache on her face. It’s now 12am in New York City. Happy birthday Kara with a permanent marker mustache on her face.
Bill Clinton ordered a hot dog with just mustard.