Update #4

Wow. So, updates...boy, do i have updates. Yesterday our big afternoon plan was to take a five-hour tour on a boat in the bay of Rio and study the effects of pollution. Given our impending fun fest, we opted for a walk along the beaches that morning. At this point, its only fair that i address the problem of scale. See, the map at the beach clearly illustrates that the Carmen Miranda museum is only a short distance down the red brick road. In actuality, however, we should have just turned around and attacked eachother with coconuts at close range for all the fun it would be. Brazilians, much like the rest of the world, do not believe in crosswalks that intersect major highways. A crosswalk suggests a point where traversing an otherwise dangerous strip of road is possible. This strip of road is dangerous not because the asphalt is especially warm to the touch, but rather that there are many dense objects moving at speed over it. Therefore, the only place for a crosswalk is where these dense objects, we..ll call them ..cars,.. will stop. Now, what is the likelyhood of there being a stop sign on a four lane freeway? Needless to say, there wasn..t one, and despite my pleas to simply jog across the freeway (which was open for at least hundred yards of visibility in both directions) when it was safe to do so, as it was a holiday and traffic was light at this hour (in fact i counted twenty five seconds without a single car passing), we walked a nearly a mile beyond our destination until an access tunnel presented itself. We then hopped on a bus to take us back to the museum up the freeway (which, btw, has a door on the right side of the vehicle which would STILL require us to find a cross walk to traverse the freeway). Half way up the road, it branched off in a different direction and sue decided not to go to the museum afterall and opt instead to just go to the boat tour early and have a beer. This was misinterpreted somehow and mel pulled the chord to stop the bus. Now somewhere near where we started but nowhere near either destination, we hopped in a cab to the museum which turned out to be closed. sweet.
Now the fun begins. We stepped off in the area of the marina and as we walked across the freeway overpass, staring at the breathtaking views, a little troll in the form of a young black boy jumped up and snatched sue..s purse. As we turned to the sound of shouting, the boy was fleeing back toward the road and weaving through heavy traffic with the purse. We couldn..t jump the kid because he put a vertical bar railing between himself and us, and we couldn..t catch him because the one day i wore flip flops (i swore to sue i wouldn..t wear them because i couldn..t fight in them) was the day i needed to NOT be wearing flip flops. In retrospect, i should have flung my umbrella at him and hoped to spear him through the liver. So, as we..re watching the boy barely make it through the cars alive and flee into the trees, we make sure sue is alright. A moment later, we hear shouting and another man is pointing across the road where a fellow park goer was walking toward us with a purse. Somehow, this man retrieved the purse from the troll and was returning it to us! I ran across the road (carefully waiting until clear) as the man pulled up in his car with his family. I tried to ask him how he managed to get a hold of the purse but i couldn..t adequately express it in portuguese. i gave him seventy brazillian dollars, copious thanks, and returned to sue. Mel and i felt awful as it was supposed to be our job to protect her. It just goes to show that even if its daylight and there are people around, if you dont pay attention to your surroundings, it can be dangerous. The good news is, he didn..t make off with ANYTHING. To celebrate, we had sandwiches and beer at a little food stand on the bay. Sue was all smiles. She said this was a perfect example of why she loves brazil: the worst of people who steal your purse and the best who go out of their way to return it to perfect strangers. and gringos no less!
Next up was the boat ride. Intended to be a lecture on the high seas, upon the mention of free alcohol, it very quickly became a booze barge. The professors of latin american studies who composed the entierty of the passengers were obviously tired of lectures and just wanted to get hammered on boat. So, with free rum intensive drinks, beer, and finger sandwiches, we lolligagged around to the sound of someone trying desperately to convince us of the importance of saving the bay from industry and population expansion. It was a blast:) i have a ton of awesome pictures from this venture. toward the end, it was magic hour with the sun setting and the lighting effects were amazing. OH!!! there is an airport that is literally right on the water...a very large plane came in to land and we were right in its path! the plane flew over top of us, clearing us by a hundred feet or so and landed. i took a video!!! The best part, however, was not the landing, but the takeoff. Some guy had been studying the takeoff itinerary and rowed a boat out to the end of the runway where the plan guns its engines from. He..s sitting there as the plane taxis in. The engines whine, growing louder and louder as heat trails behind the engines, distorting the view of the boatman. BOOM! the engines ignite and heat, exhaust, and water shoot out and up, roiling over in pulsing storms of rage, tearing the water from the bay and buffeting the boatman with sound and fury. As the storm of water roared about him, the sun set leaving only his silloweted fist pumping the air in triumph. It. Was. Epic.
Today was a much slower day, in contrast. We traveled by metro to the Rio Zoo. The waterways in the jungle park were so clogged with alge it looked as though a tennis court had been erected in their stead. Strolling through the jungle to the zoo. Seriously. As we neared the enterance, we came upon a tapir (a boar with a short trunk). It seemed normal enough until it spied us, at which point it extended a penis the likes of which i have never seen. The head was shaped like a plow, easily two and a half times the width of the shaft itself, and about the size of a softball. The organ was so long it dragged on the ground and performed the function it resembled.
He stepped on it. He stepped on his own penis. He stepped on HIS OWN FUCKING PENIS. The remainder of the trip was less eventful, minus the masterbating lion. Oh, did i not mention that? Yeah, a masterbating lion. See, we heard the lion having sex and orgasming (sue and mel were privy to lions in coitus while in africa and are very well aquanted with the sound). In fact, he was doing so about once every fifteen minutes. The trouble was, he was the only one in the cage with him. So, somehow, the lion managed to pleasure himself to orgasm with only his paws and a log. Wow.
The kids were no less amazing. We walked into the bat cave where a HUGE sign said ..SILENCIO.. at which point a pack of kids immediatly began screaming bloody murder in an attempt to outdo the other. we left.
After a tour of the emperor..s palace, and my translation of ancient tribal weapon history, we viewed two more museums downtown, one of which was the president..s palace. Whereas the emperor..s palace was ornate, the president..s contained the room where he blew his head off during a radio interview. I guess he didn..t get the memo.
To cap off the day, after dinner a seventy five year old chain smoker woman passed me a napkin with her phone number and said to call her if i ....needed anything at all..... At least i know what age group i appeal to on this side of the world.

Until next time! Tomorrow we journey into the jungle!
Much love and missing you all THIIIIIIIIIIIIS much,
~David

Update #2

Gather ..round folks, its time for another tale of brazil! Yesteray morning, after a marvelous free breakfast prepared by the hotel composed of fresh fruit,bread, coffee, and juice, sue and i parted from mel who was to spend the day in lecture at the university and took a bus to ....the sugarloaf..... Its that big rock you see in pictures of rio all the time. We hopped an air tram to the summit of the first rock...and i nearly shit my pants. It rises a few hundred meters in a GLASS compartment at breakneck speed toward a cliff face of deep brown then up to the top. As a side note, a bond movie was filmed here, in which james faces off against jaws atop a gondola. you dont think its that scary watching it but....just thinking about it now gives me the a stong facial spasm. There is a jungle on top of the mountain. Again, this may not seem like much, but bear in mind that this mountain looks like a loaf of french bread jammed end-first into the sea. and yet, despite the sheer sides, it contains all that a jungle might...including monkeys. monkeys, on a mountain island, with only a gondola to reach the summit. I can only imagine the monkeys communicating to eachother in battle-sign and wearing flack jackets as they sneak onto the gondola to the sound of the mission impossible theme.  I have some awesome pictures of this. not the monkeys, but the jungle. I mean, i have pictures of the monkeys but not in the espionage context. whatever.
 As a rapid change of pace, we met up with a tour guide who..s name translates to ..paul peanut... We paid him to take us to the slums surrounding Rio. At first, i thought, ....wow, thats unsafe...is he armed?!.... Turns out, Lonely Planet recomends him and his tour. they were wise to do so! We had the most enlightening experience walking up a mountain through the slums and meeting hundreds of people of all ages. These are the poorest home owners you will ever meet, with sewage running in rivers and waterfalls down the alley way, and yet they are unashamed of their poverty and offer to share a bottle of beer with them. It was wonderful. Mr. Peanut is the president of the district and is loved by EVERYONE. We would not have been safer with an armed guard of twenty men. We were allowed to take pictures except when he made a monkey sound, which warned of an unsafe time to do so. We spent four hours in the hills and gained a lifetime of understanding and appreciation for all we have. I met a young boy who spoke six languages and created works of art that belied his age. It was incredible. The most dangerous thing in this place was not the drug lords, but the motor cycles. See, since the rich folk purchased all the land by the shore, the poor were forced to move to mountainsides. They have literally carved towns out of the rock and live practially on top of eachother. As a result, traveling from the base to the top takes a couple hours, and an hour or so to reach the bottom. This means that any working folk must spend an additional three hours away from their families just in pre-commute before hopping a bus to the city. To cope with this, dozens of motorcycle taxi companies have situated themselves all over the mountain side to ferry people to their destinations. These cycles careen through crowds, garbage, up stairs and down runnels of dirty water at all hours and terrible velocity. However, the beer flows and the people enjoy food items and goods at a much reduced cost so far from centers of tourism. They are a happy and loving community despite the drug lord ownership, but mr. peanut has brought millions of dollars into the community to build schools, essential services, police stations, and electricity to those who can afford it (those who cannot simply jack into their neighbor..s lines).
  Exhausted and dirty from the day..s exploits, we returned to our hotel room and showered, met up with mel, and, feeling chipper and clean, went out for dinner. A monsoon hit. Its bears mention that i am living in a RAIN FORREST. As such, it rains. Hard. Like, it hurts when it hits you. the rain here is like hail.
  This morning we left mel again and went off to a trolly car that winds its way through the city. After waiting for forty five minutes, we were told that it was broken. Half the line left. The other half did not hear the warning and immediatley ran into position behind the gate. i would have told the hundred people it was out, but, i didn..t speak the language:P
  Instead, we hopped a train to the sumba drombo, the place where the carnival parade is filmed...it was amazing. thousands of cheering people on two sides of a street lined with bleachers and VIP boxes. However, as it is NOT carnival, it was empty, which allowed us to walk its length and pretend were were dressed in nothing but feathers and lust. good times. I paid a few bucks to dress up in a HUGE costume and have my picture taken. I know it was awesome because little boys jumped off the tour bus to take my picture too...i know it was huge because when i walked through the door i knocked over a rack of post cards and scattered hundreds of them while bashing ladies and small children in the head with my wings, all the while stammering the word for ..im sorry!.. while probably REALLY saying something about my aching shoelace.
   We traveled across the city only to find that our destination was closed, the other idea was cancelled due to a sudden monsoon, and now we are about to watch a movie in the theater...most likely in a language i will not understand. I would have sue translate, but i hear that sort of thing during a movie is mildly irritating.
 
On a side note, a lady in a restaurant as i walked by her commented to her friend, ..he..s enormous!!.. Also, my hair is a hit, drawing a great deal of attention. they act like they have never seen a redhead before. oh wait, they havent:)
 
life is good here. I miss everyone like crazy but i..ll be home before you know it. I..ll send another update as soon as i can.  I am taking requests for things to be brought back. i would use the other word for that but i cannot spell it and there is not a spell check lol
 
My love to all,
            David

I left for Brazil on a three week vacation a short while ago, and thought i would share the updates with you guys:)

update #1

Bon Dia!
   In case the message was not sent around, i have arrived safely:) While enroute, i fell asleep with a cup of water in my hand and awoke with a yell, throwing water into the air and all over my self and seat partner. In case you didn..t, please imagine my doing this. I avoided sleep after. I have tons of pictures thus far! However, i am disappointed with the local fauna, i was expecting ....the most beautiful women in the world.... please, Danielle, these girls are the state mollusk to you.
   After twenty five hours without sleep, we checked into our hotel and slept soundly. This morning, the tenth of june, we took a train into the rain forrest up the mountain to the Christ Redeemer...that big jesus statue on the hill. AFUCKINGMAZING. Lots of great shots...and the most beautiful backdrop to a five dollar meal i have ever seen:) We traveled up the road a bit and toured a man..s mansion which previously belonged to the first apothocary in Rio. He gave me a cup a present and told us of how he used to bathe with scorpions. He has a pet tourtise whom he scratches on the head. We then hopped a bus to the copa cobana to exchange money and eat on the beach...the copa cobana beach! its right next to ipanema beach ....the girl from impanema........ In search of an airline office to purchase tickets to salvador next week, we hopped a BART-like train to downtown and walked many many blocks amongst people who stared at me. Everyone stares at me. It will be much worse when i arrive in baia...97% dark, 2.9999999% white, .1111111% redhead, 99.99999% under 5..6. Yeah, i..ll blend right in.
   I dunno what we..re up to tomorrow, but i..ll try to get back on here as soon as i can. Its difficult adapting to not flushing toilet paper....it must be deposited in a trash can. think about that. ew. But everyone has new shoes! Its a cultural thing to always have new shoes, regardless of whether you..re so poor the second story of your house has a dirt floor. i just made that up today. im hilarious even in the southern hemisphere! Oh! Everyone here laughs at me for silly things, but they mean it in a kind way. Its wonderful. I miss everyone way way much and im doing my best to stay fed. the restaurants here charge by the kilo lol its awesome. the hotel im staying in is next door to the old presidential palace and costs $20 per night and includes a continental breakfast of bread, sweetrolls, exotic fruits, yogurt, coffee, milk, juice, and snacks. sweet!:)
 I..m off to bed now, much love to everyone!!!!!!
 
          David Atwood
P.S. David Atwood is pronounced DahVeeGee AgEeeWooGee it is a riot everytime someone says my name.

 AgEeeWooGee Clan!!!!

So, good news friends! I was featured in a film to be released this spring and the trailer is now available online! It's a crime drama entitled 'Owned.' I play a minor role, but its uber important as i tell the origin story for the main character...in the form of a four minute monolouge like in 'Jaws' where the old guy is telling the story about the sharks. Intense. The film came out REALLY well, and my part isn't half bad...i'll improve with time. Anywhoo, check it out!
 
 http://vimeo.com/2866564
 
           ~David

To my friends, family, colleagues, and strange folk who happen to be perusing my page on the more-than-off chance that i am partially nude, thank you for your un-erring support and confidence. To the vast majority of you, i have been a terrible friend, having seemingly dropped off the face of the earth for...gosh...im a jackass. Life has been crazy crazy busy on my end, but at least its finally moving in the right direction. The following is a timeline to get everyone up to speed:

November 2006: fired from walgreens for my implication in an armed robbery; apparently, NO ONE is that calm during a stickup. It would seem that no one bothered to check my file and see written under gender: MAN.

January 2007: Hired on as security for Regional Transit in Sacramento; I threw people off trains and met three of my girlfriends whilst saving them from thugs and pimp gangstas. Body armor looks GREAT on me.

June 2007: Five-year long distance relationship comes to a close, and i adopt "Lion" mentality and begin pursuing everything i want in life heedless of the possibility of failure.

July-December 2007: Realization that i have been lying to myself for the last two years and need to get off my ass and do something with my life. I make arrangements to move to San Francisco with my aunt and restart my college/acting carreer. New year's resolution: Gain 20lbs and score a leading role in a production.

January 2008: Moved to SF, met a friend from theater school in los angeles back in 2004,  enrolled in seventeen units, including three theater classes. I pretty much rocked the house hardcore and made a TON of new friends. Yay!

May 2008: Applied to the American Conservatory Theater's Summer Training Congress and was accepted, along with seventy nine other students from around the globe. I also met two fantastic ladies, one of which became my current lady, Danielle.

June 2008: Completed the semester on the Dean's list and began classes at ACT. Nine am to six pm, monday through friday, plus rehearsal time after six. It kicked my ass. Hard.I became a sponge and absorbed everything without any preconceptions of the art. I also photocopied other people's notes for additional perspectives on the activities. I was made example of, tortured with scenes that made me incredibly uncomfortable, and generally had the best time of my life. I met the most amazing people, and massaged all of them. I even starred in the show for one night in Point Break: Live! as Johnny Utah.

August 2008: Graduated from ACT and joined an online casting company. I auditioned and scored a part in the touring off off broadway show Point Break: Live! as a surfer. However, the show toured to Vegas and i couldn't go along with them. Sad clown. I also was cast in a lead role in a feature film, but after reading the script and what i would be required to do, i realized i didn't have the time to commit to a project so large.

September 2008: I auditoned for and was cast in a Television Pilot for an improv series entitled, "Kinda Like That." It will be shot, if picked up by a television network, in public places like target and the poor shoppers will be victims of our wild schenanigans on camera; be it family feuds, setting up a campsite and hunting for food amongst the wilds of the langere department, or simply using all the clothes and products as props for plays performed without their knowledge lol

Life is good. I am finally taking control of it and doing what i want, when i want, and in any manner i choose. I am putting Crescent City back on the map. No longer will we have to say "humboldt" when refferring to our hometown. And DNHS will have a f*cking mascot g*d damn it! Even if he/she IS a flaming "W," and i have to hire a stunt man for all the games. HE IS GONNA BURN.

         ~David

The American Conservatory Theater is one of the premier theater companies in the western US, and the first to be accredited for its training programs. It was also the first company to award Masters Degrees in theater arts. During the summer, they allow undergraduates to apply and participate in their program......and i was accepted!!!
  The director of the program called me personally to congratulate me and to say, "and of particular note is your extreamly open and and honest essay, a rare thing, really." I am so excited, this is a huge step toward the realization of my dreams. I can now add "American Conservatory Theater" to the training section of my resume for auditions....i am SO IN:) AND i can use the contacts i make now for when i come back in a few years for their Masters Program. This is huge. Im excited:D
         ~David the Triumphant

Upon snagging a new money-maker, i was required to shave my face and cut my hair:( Though i cried at my loss, a braided lock of my hair eight inches long lies in a ziplock bag in a locked chest for safekeeping until the return to glory. In the meantime, enjoy my Chin of Heroes. More on the job change later, i must head to bed for the moment. Oh! I miss you all terribly, message me. I have left my days of depression behind me and have returned to all that is Dave. Sweet. The default picture is my impression of Charise.

       ~David

Alas! I have returned to the land of the living! You may have noticed i've been away for nearly six weeks, and i do apoligise. However, as long as this is, stick around! I go on to talk of my horror movie-like birthday, a kick ass rock concert, getting my ass kicked, and more wisdom from the hawaiian fucktard!

For the last six weeks i have been getting off work (still walgreens) at midnight, home by 1am, then getting up at 6am for school, and home by 9am, take a shower (weight training for two hours) then back to school at 10 am, out by 12:30 pm, home by 1 pm. From 1 pm to 3:30 pm i could either pay bills, shop for food, do my homework, study, or sleep. Given that i had been running on five hours of sleep, then hardcore working out to the point of puddles of sweat forming where i pump, i naturally chose shopping. Right. Screw food, screw homework, im sleeping. All you college students out there understand. But its all over! It ended on the 20th, my birthday was on the 21st (omg, i have to tell you the story of that...just read on!) then a concert on the 22nd (more on that too!).

 However, i should update you on the Walgreens:) As it stands, and this will shock the hell out of you, the hawaiian fucktard and i are actually getting along. This is after he hit me in the head with a koosh baseball and gave me some advice-for-life: "David, you know what you need? You need to have a girl strip for you, and put your hands on her. It'l make cells in your brain explode you didn't know you had." I was almost expecting something profound, but that just wouldn't be his style. However, as i have yet to have a woman strip for me (apart from kim...kinda), it's entierly possible that he's right. A naked girl is the answer to every man's problems. Maybe i'll know one day, but until then, i'll continue to laugh at him for the stupid shit he says, like "i don't like working with people who are over smart. Like you" And no, that wasn't a typo.  He referred to me as 'over smart' I'm not just smart, im OVER smart. And that's really saying something, ya know, comming from him an' all. Another thing that will knock your socks off: My sister, christa, came to see me at work and asked me if she would be in my Chronicle. I said the following, "you have to do something noteworthy" I seemed to have forgotten that such a thing should never be said to an Atwood, as we ALWAYS think of something to do of note. However, i was totally unprepared for her action. She did the unthinkable.....she hit on the hawaiian fucktard. Complete with the flirty look, the 'oooo' handshake, and the pouty lips. I was floored. Aren't you?

 So, the fucktard still thinks im eight. He treats me as if i have never heard of anyone getting screwed, stabbed in the back, made a victim of racism, or growing up in a less-than-perfect household. He also talks about how he's a 'warrior' and 'throws cops in the air' when he fights them on the beach. Who gives a shit if you're a 'warrior' you're a fucking service clerk at a drugstore. Thats like saying you're 'in the band' when you're the girl who waits for the guys back at the hotel. Shut up. Granted, im a service clerk too, but i don't broadcast that im in the band just because im sleeping with them. I mean, if anything, the band would be in me. Hehe. That was funny.

  So yeah, for my birthday, i awoke to an alarm clock...but not my own. It was ringing outside my door. I couldn't shut if off, for one, but once i did i looked up and siloetted agaisnt the light from the bathroom was a tape recorder hanging from the doorway with a note on it that said, "play me." And for those of you familair with 'Saw' you'll know where this is going. There was a recording from the Jigsaw Killer about how im wasting my life because i know so much about world history and make the audience cheer my name, but do nothing with it. It was brady McConagahagy doing his best impression of the killer, but still, it was quite good and i found the envelope right next to it with the jigsaw piece on it. The ensuing adventure was a great deal of word puzzles with clever phrasing as clues to the location of the next clue. Also, i was told i couldn't call any of my friends, otherwise they'd die. So, thinking i was finished with the game, i called brady. He answered with one word, in the voice of the Killer. "dead!" I called back and was treated to the sound of Jacob Melby being disemboweled. If you've ever disemboweled anyone, you know exactly what i'm talking about. Jordan Tynes, i mean you. you sick fuck. I finished the game eventually, and it was great. The landlord loved the game so much (she was part of it too) that she asked us to help her when she does it to her friend. Creepy, given that she wont know who the hell the person on the tape is, and may actually think she has a 'slow acting venom' in her system. Can anyone say lawsuit?

  The concert was today, hell yes. Jacob, Brady, Christa, Jennifer, Sandy, Charise, and I went to see a Taking Back Sunday concert, and the subways (who have a female guitarist, and holy shit, it was hot. There is something about a girl with an electric guitar that ignites my loins. Its a good thing there was 80,000 pounds of flesh between us.) Head automatica, and Angels and Airwaves played too. Angels and Airwaves is just too damn cool to be allowed. I spent $80 on their merchandise. I look hot;) I have a pic up soon.  The front man for the band is Tom from Blink 182, if you didn't know. He went to the back of the auditorium and was making fun of all the people in the seats rather than down in the pit. He was talking about being in love and was like,

   "i just fell in love. What is your name?"

   "Amy"

   "Amy, i have to move by you, otherwise im gonna get you pregnant. Because im fertile"

It was great lol They rocked it so hard i couldn't believe it. They had these massive backdrops that literally dropped from the ceiling and cascaded down, in all their fifty by eighty foot glory. I wanted to steal it for my house, but then i remembered it's eighty by fifty and wouldn't fit anywhere. Unless i cut it into pieces and used it as swaddling cloths for my baby's first year. But that would be an incredible waste of stage memorabila. A shitty idea, you might say;)

So yeah, between Saw-like scavenger hunts, rockin' concerts, and a ton of 'gauntlet legends' with friends and family, i haven't talked to my girlfriend for more than five minutes in three days. She's mad at me right now. She misses me:) Which is good in that she does, but bad in that she's bad. Noone likes an angry girl. Unless she's goth, then its not only expected, its manditory. That was funny too. Ya know what else is funny? I got my ass kicked at the concert. By my sisters. Charise was standing in front of my and jabbed me in the right eye with her 'rock horns.' Christa, a minute later, jabs me in the left eye with her rock horns too. And for an encore, kicks me in the balls when Brady lifts her up. My girlfriend, Rachel, just laughed at me when i told her this. She thinks it funny when i get hurt. I think a lot of people do. I guess im just a funny victim. Or a whiny one.

 

       ~David the Manly

 

I had the following epiphany in the shower a few minutes ago.

 I was born in a small town. I didn't know it was a small town becasue most small towns have other small towns around them that are twice the size they are, thus small towns become cities, and your small town remains normal sized. It's not until you go to a real city that you realize how many cities there are and how small your town really is. And this realization will make you feel very small inside. The best part about the ignorance of growing up in a small town is that you would make fun of smaller towns for being so small, as if your small town was in a class of its own, well beyond the definition of 'small town.' In retrospect, i feel rather sheepish now that i think of all the people i lashed out at who made fun of my town for being so small, as i hadn't realized they had merely come to the realization before i did. I am from a small town. But Weaverville is smaller.

     ~David the Wise