Even though there was a huge festival with thousands of people in yukata(summer kimono), I returned from my weekend in Hiroshima with only pictures of the three of us. And we were definitely feeling the love for each other, thanks in a part to some initial ground rules (no techno, no talking about Ken, no being bossy, etc.)and an impromptu game of "Who Can Complain the Least."
Feelin' the love is easy with cocktails on tatami mats... 
...or on the dance floor.
Marko and I returned to our seedy love hotel to find Lou passed out with the light on. So we played art fags in the bathroom, documenting the removal of my eyeliner.
Happy and hungover in front of the A-bomb memorial. It is an odd feeling when there is really no right way to be in a place.
We rode with Marko to Iwakuni and delighted in our first Tex-Mex experience in Japan. (Get your gob 'round that, Marko!) With bellies full, Lou and I said "bai-bai" to Marko and skipped local trains back home to Shimonoseki.
1 comment:
my appearances in your blog just get scarier and scarier...
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