something is scratching its way out.

Let me summarize this post for you in one, short phrase:

Best weekend ever.

Ok, now for the details:

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Fri. April 18 – Mon. April 21

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Players:

- Me

- Rachel Pearson, aka Pearson

- Heather, aka Heat

- Corey, aka Pearson’s boy toy

- Jabby, Corey’s roommate, aka very chill and silly boy

- Rachel Francis, aka Frannie

- Steven, Corey’s roommate, aka chronic liar and silly boy #2

- Crazy Bitch, aka CB, British woman

- Noah, Corey’s roommate, aka marathon runner and Notebook-guy-look-a-like

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We’re leaving…on different jet planes

Pearson left on Wednesday, Heat left Thursday mid-morning, Frannie left Thursday afternoon, and I left Thursday evening. We all had different flights that corresponded to our personal class schedules. Everyone laughed at us for that.

I was quite nervous about travelling on my own, especially since I was to spend approximately 5 hours in the Luton Airport lobby waiting for check-in. Stephan was rather nice about it when I spoke to him about being a bit frightened before I left.

STEPHAN: You should double-check to see if the airport is open 24 hours.

MIKA: Yes, that would be important as I plan to be there for five hours. Hmm…but I’m a lazy squash, and I’ll go by what Frannie said about how she spent the night.

STEPHAN: Q: Is the airport open 24 hours?

A: Yes, Luton Airport is open 24 hours a day.

Q: Where can I pray?

A: There are…[etc.]

MIKA: Haha! You are super. You’re like Germany’s Superman. Except you can’t deflect bullets or save the world, you only deflect Mika’s nerve-attacks and save her peace of mind. Still, I think both are rather spectacular achievments.

It turned out all right. I slept a bit on each of the three trains it took to get to the airport.

It was a bit frightening at the Bedford station, however, because it was dead empty and silent. I hid behind a partition for about a minute before I figured that someone would still be able to see me, and then I sat myself down on a bench and watched the time on my phone stand still. If something had happened to me, no one would have known!

Couldn’t really sleep in the airport so I drank two huge cups of coffee to keep myself opposite of tired. Ate an entire bag of chips, some yogurt covered raisins…Went a bit loopy.

MIKA’S JOURNAL: I wish I could to to Morocco. Or the desert. I want to ride a camel, take a break in a pyramid, and drink water from a wineskin.

I suppose not that loopy. I still wish I could do those things.

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Antibes

Looked out the plane window to see the coastline and it was gorgeous. Stepped off the plane to see palm trees and instantly knew that I’d love it in Nice. Originally had reservations about the weekend as we wouldn’t be in the city of Nice, but actually in Antibes, which I knew nothing about, and also because the plane tickets cost so much. But after getting off the bus in Antibes to see Pearson and Corey, all those reservations fled in the face of dicussions of the beach, frolicking around old towns, making a trip to Monte Carlo and being surrounded by billionairs.

Met Corey’s cool roommates, met up with Heat and Frannie, then went to Casino, the grocery store. Jabby was telling us a funny story about how his mom called him up and asked why he had so many payments to Casino haha! Bought food for the weekend and some wine. I got a half-bottle that everyone made fun of me for lol

Corey made us breakfast crepes with egg and sausage–delicious!! He’s really one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and possibly the best host in the world. Constantly helping us out, going to places with us and showing us around, always cooking for us…ect.

Anyway.

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Nice, very nice.

We took the bus to Nice. I, unfortunately, have no pictures of this place because the rechargeable batteries I got sent from home didn’t work, and I thought my camera had died. That was a bit of a blow and sort of brought me down, but it was too pretty there to stay that way for long.

It was funny because, looking back at pictures of when we stood by the beach, Frannie looks like Mufasa because her hair was windblown :o)

We shopped around a bit, and I bought a shirt/dress from H&M. Love that place. Saw a little kid walk hard into a pole, guiltily laughed, but tried desperately to hide it when the kid turned and looked back at us. Poor thing! I didn’t even see it happen–all I heard was this rather loud ‘clang,’ and when I looked over, Corey was cracking up like a hyena (perhaps Frannie was like Scar and Corey was like Ed, Shenzi, or Banzai) and the little tyke was holding his forehead.

We later met up with Noah and Steven in the Nice square and walked through side-streets past tiny shops and little markets until we found a wine-tasting place. It was pretty much a hole-in-the-wall, very cute and quaint! We split three bottles of wine–one red, one rose, and one white. I loved the rose one–so sweet and light and tasted like berries! I only had a sip of the white one because I was, sadly, feeling very good already after my measley two glasses.

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Orange Liquor Man, straight shots, and black-booted horses

On the way back, it was pouring down rain. We stopped by a little shop so everyone could get more alcohol, and were confronted by a silly old man with a glass/plastic jug in the shape of an orange with orange liquor inside it. He gave us all tiny plastic cups so we could take shots of his liquor. I should not have taken it as I was feeling fine already, but it wasn’t bad at all! And then Orange Liquor Man put an arm around Noah and told him to open his mouth. Noah did so and got a shot poured straight from the jug!

Then Orange Liquor Man came to me and put his arm around me and I kept shaking my head ‘no’ because I really couldn’t do with more! Noah helped me out, nice kid! He said she’s good, and finally, between my adamant ‘no’s’ and Noah’s support, the man walked away. However, he didn’t seem to understand and poured me a shot into a little plastic cup and gave that to me, at which I laughed and, for some reason, took also.

He then moved on to Heat and she was brave enough to do that shot poured from the jug!

And then we left for the jolly walk home in the pouring rain.

It was quite a walk too. More of a hike up a humongous, never-ending hill. They likened me to a horse because I would walk really slowly because I was so tired of walking, and then I would jog to catch up, lag behind as I relegated back to walking, then jog to catch up once more. It was because of my black boots, the heels of which (and heels is a term used lightly as they aren’t really heels so much as short plastic things that merely sound like I’m wearing heels–which no one would ever think upon actually looking at me anyway; it’s pretty much a deceptive contraption, these black boots and fake heels) make heel sounds.

That night everyone made dinner and drank some more, but I went ahead and fell asleep on the couch while they cooked because I was exhausted from not sleeping the night before.

Woke up later and it was time to sleep, so what was I to do (seriously, do you know me)? I slept again :o)

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Beach Day

We woke up late to gorgeous sunshine, ate more breakfast crepes, stopped by Casino again to get snacks and more wine (except Mika, who instead got two packages of cookies), then hopped on a bus to get to the beach in Antibes.

We laid out in the gorgeous weather under the warm sun and I became brown/black after about an hour and furiously rubbed on some sun tan lotion so I wouldn’t get any darker.

Apparently there was also a yacht show going on the weekend we were there, so it was exciting because as we were walking around, we were surrounded by rich folk and billionaires. Fun stuff! Money is exciting. And fun. It would be more so, however, if I had some of it.

Went to go to the bathroom and the public restroom turned out to be a hole in the ground. There were even handles to hold onto as you squatted. I was unable to do it–couldn’t walk into the bathroom itself because I was hit with an episode of my tragic germophobia. It comes and goes. Very sad really.

Pearson and Corey were drinking wine, and it was hilarious because, by the time I left, Pearson’s drunken-ness was surfacing. She became very boistrous and she made strange and funny comments as we walked by the coast (see the last picture above) along that wall thing.

PEARSON: Don’t you just feel at one with the water? Like, not really connected, but part of the water?

HEAT: Well, I’m not really IN the water.

MIKA: No, not really.

PEARSON: Really? Because I do. I feel like I’m -

EVERYONE: – at one with the water?

PEARSON: Yes! Exactly! Good job, guys.

COREY: When the HELL did you get drunk?!

PEARSON: I’m not drunk!

EVERYONE: No, dear, you’re waaaaaaaaasted.

PEARSON: Haha!

We walked to the bus station, but got gelato before we left–delicious! On the bus, she was quite hilarious and spoke quite loudly in the shortbus among many little old ladies.

We finally got back to the apartment and Pearson cameout of Corey’s room with two ping pong rackets and showed us as she put two ping pong balls into the waistband of her shorts.

PEARSON: I want to play ping pong. Want to play, Jabby?

JABBY: Umm…ask Corey.

[Corey walks into the living room.]

PEARSON: Corey, let’s play ping pong.

COREY: Oh no…

PEARSON: Come on, let’s go play ping pong.

She walks to the door and opens it.

COREY: Can we sit for like, two minutes?

[French neighbors who hate the boys are talking in the hallway as they walk to their apartment.]

JABBY: Say ‘bonjour!’ Say ‘bonjour!’

PEARSON: Bone-juuur… [No response. Pearson waves hand in a 'who-gives-a-sh*t' manner and shuts the door]

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Skyping Mike Pearson, fajitas, and more skype hilariousness

Pearson tried to call her parents because her knee got messed up and became swollen and painful. She was literally calling over and over and over again for about half an hour. We’re all sitting around the living room table or in the kitchen when we hear someone pick up.

MAN: Hello?

PEARSON: Dad, this is Rachel.

MAN: Ok…

[I was seriously holding back laughter and skepticism at the fact that her dad would respond to her this way!]

PEARSON: Where’s my Dad?

MAN: Um…I don’t know…

PEARSON: Well, find Mike Pearson. Where’s Mike Pearson?

MAN: I don’t know where he is. I think you have the wrong number. I don’t have a daughter.

Pearson rolled her eyes and waved her hand in that same ‘who-gives-a-sh*t’ manner and hung up.

We later made fajitas while Pearson passed out on the futon. That was one of the best meals ever. We’re sitting there eating and listening to music from Corey’s computer, and suddenly Pearson roll’s over and sings out along with the song, “Come on!” and then seemingly falls back asleep again! It was absolutely hilarious! Then she woke up, walked to the kitchen, stopped, made a bewildered face, pulled at her waistband, two ping pong balls dropped out, and then continued her way to the kitchen. We cracked up. She then came back and skyped her parents again.

PEARSON: Why didn’t you answer your phone?! Didn’t you find it weird that I called about 17 TIMES?!

P’S MOM: I knew you’d call back.

PEARSON: Well here I am!

MOM: So what’s up?

PEARON: My leg’s messed up again.

MOM: Are you keeping your leg elevated?

PEARSON: Yes!

MOM: Rachel, I find it hard to believe that you can have your leg elevated while drinking alcohol.

There are just so many of these exchanges that are so utterly hilarious.

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Blah Blah, Crazy Bitch (CB), gay bar, up until 6:30am

That night we got dressed and played Jabby’s dice game as we drank our wine. I drank half my half bottle of wine and got made fun of, but I was golden. We got ready and then Jabby took us out to paint the town red. We started at a place called Gaffe where a superb band called Blah Blah played a lot of cover songs and some original ones, and Jabby’s favorite song (and ours now too), “America.” Blah Blah’s website calls them the best bar band ever. I would have to agree at this point! Very cool place.

Ran into the drug godfather of Antibes there and Jabby spoke to him for a bit. That was quite exciting. Talked to some people outside while Jabby bummed cigarettes, and I got pulled aside by two old men to speak for what they called a ‘documentary.’ Quite frightening, that, and Heat finally rescued me from the sleeper hold my interviewer had around my neck.

Then moved on to Eclipse, but it was a 10 euro cover so we decided not to go in. As we stood outside debating about what to do, we were approached by CB.

CB: Do you have a light?

[Heat, Frannie and I shake our heads 'no.']

CB: Do you have a light?

GIRLS: Nope, sorry.

CB: Do you have a light?

GIRLS: No, we don’t smoke!

CB: Fuck you. [To Jabby] Do you have a light?

JABBY: No…you’re being very rude.

CB: They’re boring assed women.

GIRLS: Aw hell no!

CB: They have nothing to offer me!

JABBY: You have nothing to over them!

MIKA: Yeah, except second-hand smoke. Why the HELL would we want that?

[Girls cross the street to get away from CB and laugh at her. Jabby soon follows and then CB follows also. And also the weird South African guy who tagged along with us.]

CB: Bonjour, madame. Bonjour madame. Bonjour madame.

[Girls don't shake the proffered hand.]

HEAT: You were just very rude to us.

CB: Was I? You’re not going to hold that against me, are you?

GIRLS: Um…yeah, we are.

CB: I’m a rapper. ‘I drop bombs like indiscriminate bloodshed. asldjalsd Philippine.’

GIRLS: Um…yeah. [Walk away.]

CB: Twats! You’re twats!

JABBY: How old are you?

CB: Forty. I’m 39.

JABBY: Well, you’re a disgrace. You can’t talk to 20-year-old girls like this. You’re a disgrace. Just go back over there to where you came from. [Points to alley, then follows us as we walk away.]

CB: You’re just going to leave me here?

MIKA: Yes.

CB: I don’t know where I am!

MIKA: You’re right there. That’s a good spot for you. Just stay there.

We then went on to Golden Gate, which was a hole-in-the-wall gay club. There was a topless, female bartender in a dominatrix outfit and a merry-go-round with poles on it that people danced on. We danced on the dance floor amid strobe lights that are an epileptic’s nightmare but our sad-dancer’s paradise, and Frannie got pulled away by a guy and then passed off to the guy’s friend in a very smooth fashion. He was creepy and Frannie eventually escaped.

We then all mustered up the courage to dance on the merry-go-round, which was fun, except that creepy French dude followed. I was dancing there and it’s pretty crowded, but somehow that gross French guy followed and started grind-dancing with me. So I went away and escaped. We eventually all got off and went to the bar where Heat and Frannie bought five euro shots of Jack Daniels. Heat held the glass above her mouth for a second longer because it was expensive and the JD was too good to let one drop go to waste. I bought a five euro bottle of water because I was parched.

Talked to the South African guy before we left and he was whining and crying about the Bloods and Crips and how he was a part of the Bloods and blah blah. Very dramatic and he did not look like he’d ever been a part of a gang, let alone in a schoolyard tussel in his life. He looked emo. And he was short and chubby. And drunk.

We got back at around 3am and were ready to go to sleep, but Steven and Jabby had other ideas. I passed out for a bit, but I woke up and they were still up and Heat was up too. Frannie had just woken up as well. They played a few songs on repeat that are forever stuck in our heads:

“America,” “All for You,” “Tears in Heaven,” “I-I-I-I’m dreaming, of a whiiiite, Christma-as” — crazy version, “I Wear My Sunglasses At Night”

Frannie and Heat were very blunt about wanting to sleep. “Are you serious?” “I’m gonna shoot myself.” “Oh my God, shut up.” “Go to bed!” “Oh my God, kill me.”

Jabby kept falling back and passing out on my legs in the most uncomfortable position ever. Steven kept playing with Thrasher and spitting out lies like whoa–he was insanely good at coming up with lies in an instant and it was hilarious. Just nonsense came out of him so easily. Jabby kept throwing Thrasher across the room. They were not friends.

I wanted to know why Jabby’s called Jabby (his real name is Kenneth), and Steven said he’s been asked so many times that he doesn’t say anymore, so I made up a reason and used Coop’s history as an egg being raised by wolves. Steven said, “Jabby’s a hatchling too!”

We finally thought Jabby was leaving when he turns around and belly-flops on all three of us. Then, as he rolled/slid off of us, he did so right on top of Heat’s face! Poor girl! Then, as Steven gets up to go, he trips on all the wires (speaker, comp, etc.) and slides across the room onto the living room table, guitar in hand, and then we all just crack up.

Poor Noah comes out wondering what the hell is going on. He had to get up early to run a marathon! He spoke to us for a while, then went back. Pearson also made a brief, annoyed appearance.

The boys finally left us alone when the sun came up.

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Monte Carlo, high rollers at the casino, gelato in the rain

The next day we woke up so we could catch a train to Monte Carlo, Monaco, and it ended up being 9.40 euro per person roundtrip! Awesome deal. We were exhausted and it was raining, but the city was so gorgeous and the trip was so cheap that it was a truly wonderful day. The city is layered and has lifts everywhere! It was so cool and beautiful! I can’t imagine what it would look like if it hadn’t been raining that day.

We walked to the casino area and went into the smaller, American one. We wanted to try one of the slot machines and figured that, if we won some money, that would be insane. We tried to take pictures, but then a security guy materialized beside us and told Heat to delete the photo in front of him. We then tried to stick our coins in the machines, even moved over to new machines, and realized that we needed casino chips. We passed by the conversion counter, but we were too embarrassed at the small amount of money we wanted to play with so we left.

Fun experience though!

In front of the huge, main casino where you have to be spiffily dressed, there were gorgeous and expensive cars. Saw a guy getting his picture taken by one. Suppose I shouldn’t be amused as I took a picture of a row of the cars.

We walked to the dock and along the coastline, admired the yachts, ate gelato in the pouring rain, laughed as Rachel revealed her hidden quirk/talent and transformed into a duck, and then made our way home.

Were laughing the entire way, were exhausted and cold and wet, but it was still an awesome day.

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Awkward prayers, penne a la vodka, dinner games, another night of no sleep

That night the boys made Steven’s penne a la vodka recipe. Pearson, who was drunk again, was adamant about a family prayer:

PEARSON: Let’s all say grace and bow our heads. I’ll say grace.

NOAH: You can say grace, but I’m not bowing my head…

JABBY: I’m an atheist.

PEARSON: Thank you, God, for giving us all these places on your earth for us to visit. Thank you for bringing us all together and uniting us all, etc.

It was hilarious. And awkward. Heat was laughing the entire time, and I was trying so hard not to. Noah even looked over because Heat was laughing so much haha!

The dinner was DELICIOUS. Over dinner, Pearson was talking about how she was a great student at OU and never went out, and I said, “you are currently missing a week fo school…” haha and she said it was different here. It is different here though; I was just poking fun.

They played spades after dinner and had a very intense game. Heat and Rachel drank their wine and made up a game–every time Pearson said something funny, they’d drink. Pearson’s quite hilarious when she’s drunk, as you can tell from this post. There was one point when Pearson and Corey were talking back and forth, so I glanced over at Frannie and Heat and said, “You’d better pour some more,” and Heat got a kick out of that one. Apparently I was corrupted over this weekend.

Steven was added to the game for all the times he made funny expressions or accents. He’s very good at the British accent and Jabby has an incredible French one–perfect voice inflections and everything.

Jabby and Steven kept us up again, but this time we kept looking up nursery rhymes–don’t ask me why. Jabby’s favorite is, “Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater had a wife but couldn’t keep her, put her in a pumpkin shell, and there he kept her very well.” Not a great rhyme to grow up with actually; the girls and I were quite horrified by it now that we’re old enough to actually think about it and dorks enough to ponder over its meaning and message to little boys.

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Wrapping up

Got up and left the next day! Noah, Pearson and Corey all went to the Monte Carlo Tennis Masters, for which I am incredibly jealous about.

Another quote that supports the Mika’s Corruption Theory is, after I woke up and said bye to Pearson and Corey, I said, “I have to piss like a racehorse.” I did, though.

Got addicted to Jetman on facebook.

On one of the nights, Frannie couldn’t find her shirt. The next morning she went into the bathroom to see it wet and hanging from being washed in the sink–we have no idea why this happened.

Frannie got her generic nutella confiscated. :o(

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THE END

Last recap, finally!

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Tues. 4/1 – Sat. 4/5

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Crazy coincidence number one

On the bus from Marseille to Montpellier, Catlett started talking to two Moroccan guys, Yohan and Ali, who were hilarious. They were very friendly and silly, and one of them kept singing crazy songs. Yohan is actually going to study in Sheffield this fall–what a coincidence!

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Crazy coincidence number two

Heat, Frannie, Craig, Catlett and I hop onto the train that will take us from Montpellier to Barcelona. Catlett’s in the lead and I’m behind him talking about something when suddenly he stops. I hear him say slowly, “No…way…” and the next thing I know Steve and Brandon from NM jump up and we’re all laughing and talking loudly and excitedly about how crazy it is we’re all on the same train and how our seats are right next to each other!

Steve said afterwards that as he and Brandon were sitting in their seats, he thought he heard my voice, then he turns around, sees Catlett and I, and isn’t that just crazy? So funny! It also made the five hour train ride so much more fun!

It was also a gorgeous day outside and the train ride was magnificent. We also saw flamingoes!

CATLETT: Well, this reminds me of home. I know a lot of rednecks with flamingoes on their lawns.

Hahahaha! That cracked us up.

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Crazy coincidence number three

So, not only were we randomly on the same train with reserved seats right next to one another, but we were all also at the same hostel! Originally, we were supposed to be at Barcelona Be Hostel, but they told us to go to Barcelona Sound, which was where Steve and Brandon were. The boys met up with Brandon from OK there as well, and the next day Ashley and Britney showed up at the hostel as well!

That first night, we went to an Irish pub down the street from our hostel, which is a side street from Las Ramblas (the big, main street of Barcelona pretty much). We girls were feeling a bit smothered by the boys, so we left them to find some ice cream. We sat there enjoying our dessert and venting about the boys, and when we came back, it turns out that the boys had a good time having a somewhat guys’ night out.

We also acted very silly on what we considered a three-person wheelchair. Don’t ask me why.

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Beach day: drunks, log-rolling, buoy trophies, spanish speaking, wax museum/bar

The next day was BEACH DAY!

Everyone bought some wine, and we were all drinking and having the best day ever there at the beach. I took quite a long nap after about a fourth of my bottle. Frannie and Heat finished off my bottle and two each of their own–I guess it would be useless to say they were drunk hahaha! Some of the boys also bought some hash from a cerveza-beer man haha!

So I woke up after my first nap and made Heather and Frannie drink the rest of my wine. Frannie madefun of Heat for not drinking fast enough, and so Heather downed some of my bottle and handed the rest to Frannie who literally went bottoms up, chugging like it was water.

Later, after we all passed out again, we heard a story of how Frannie woke up and tried to stand up, then just keeled over like a chopped down tree, face-planting right in the sand! When I woke up soon afterwards, she got up a bit later and was obviously incredibly drunk lol. She kept trying to stand up and falling back down on her butt, and then she would lie down in the sand and do some log-rolling, like a puppy in the grass. It was the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen! This is still a day we keep bringing back and laughing about because she was so funny and cute.

She then went back to sleep.

The next thing I know, Catlett and Steve are running toward the ocean to swim to the jetty. That jetty was very far away, and they were both drunk so I sat there watching very carefully for any signs of drowning. I don’t know what I would’ve been able to do as a very pathetic swimmer, but thought that if I did see them in need of help, I could use my limited knowledge of espanol to yell for some Olympic swimmer that may have been there on the beach.

They swam all the way to the jetty, and when they came back frozen and triumphant with a buoy as their trophy, I couldn’t help but laugh. Those boys are so silly!

We went to go get food at one of the food kiosk-restaurants on the beach, and I went to another kiosk afterwards to ask for salsa, and they understood my spanish! That was very exciting :o)

We later went back to the hostel where everyone took naps before we were to head out. I took a shower and when I came back, Frannie rolls over on her bed as I rummage through my locker.

FRANNIE: Mika-chuuuu…

MIKA: Um…Franiiiieeeee….?

STRANGE SILENCE: …

And then nothing else was forthcoming so I quietly went back to the restroom to finish getting dressed. It was utterly hilarious!

Crazily enough, she came out that night!

That night, Klimkow met up with us at the hostel and took us out. We also met Jamie, Heat’s friend who we stayed with the next two nights. Klimkow took us to this crazy wax museum/bar, and it was the creepiest place ever–also the quirkiest. When we walked in, it looked like a bar, but then we realized that it was occupied by was people. That was very odd. We walked further in and for some reason, the place turned into a rainforest. It looked similar to the Rainforest Cafe. Very neat, actually, though one side room had a crazy wax lady hanging from the ceiling. We didn’t stay in there.

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Gaudi buildings, Las Ramblas, markets

The next day we walked around Barcelona during the day, exploring and just enjoying the nice day. It was really gorgeous outside. We went to the port in hope of finding the cable car, but it was so expensive that we ended up not doing that. It was cool though because as we went to cross the bridge, we were stopped with everyone else because a boat had to get through. The bridge opened and twisted so that there was an opening for the boat to pass by.

We later met up with Jamie and Klimkow down Las Ramblas. They showed us around the Plaza Catalunya, took us to a couple Gaudi buildings, the Sagrada Familia and then we split up with Jamie and went to Klimkow’s senora’s apartment, his home-stay. It was such a cute place with a very cool balcony.

Afterwards we left him because he had to go to class, and we went to the humongous market off of Las Ramblas. It was so cool and had tons of dried fruit and candy, both of which I bought! YUM.

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Jamie’s apartment, Opium

That evening we moved into Jamie’s apartment, which is so big and pretty and in such a nice area! We made pasta there that night, then pre-gamed at her place. Klimkow came over to hang out with us, but he was leaving for Amsterdam the next morning so he didn’t go out with us.

Apparently in Spain they don’t go out until 1-2am. We left for the club at 2:30am and got back at around 4am. We went to Port Olympus to a club called Opium, and it was a really chic and expensive club. Very cool though. Lots of fun :o)

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Beach again, spanish-speaker, light show, tapas, Dow Jones bar

The next day we woke late and went back to the beach where we met up with Steve and the Brandons. It was fun again, but rather cold. We got food at this delicious sandwhich place. I wanted to try gambas, and was surprised when it came in a baguette! But it was the most scrumptious sandwhich I’ve ever had in my LIFE. There was corn and tomatoes and chili sauce in it and I think that was all. I ordered espanol and the guy thought I spoke Spanish! That was so exciting and flattering!

That evening/night we went to watch a light show and it was really wonderful. Catlett said it was one of his favorite parts of the trip, and I agree. I really wasn’t expecting it to be so cool! It turned out to be a humongous fountain in front of the palace which lights up and sprays different heights of water to very loud and triumphant music (one song was that from V for Vandetta).

We then went to eat at a Tapas bar and it was the most delicious thing ever. It was our last night in Barcelona and of our spring break as a whole, so I decided to just splurge. I dropped 21 euros at that restaurant on gambas con anillo, cod on toast (which I didn’t eat because it was raw like sashimi), las bravas (potato wedges with a tradtional spiced sauce + mayo, which I took off because mayo is gross), and catalan creme for dessert (essentially creme brulee). SO GOOD and fun!

That night we went to the Dow Jones bar with is similar in nature to the stock market. The prices go up and down according to how much people are buying certain drinks, and every so often the prices crashed, dropping all the prices and people would take off for the bar. Fun stuff, but I was so tired I think I slept.

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Parc Guell, and then THE END.

The next morning, Catlett, Heat, Frannie and I woke up really early to go see Parc Guell, which is a very famous and unique park at a very high point in Barcelona. It too was designed by Gaudi, so it was amazingly quirky and different. It also is home to the longest bench in the world.

Then we went back to Jamie’s, packed and left for home. :o)

Mon. 3/31-Tues. 4/1

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Final few hours in France, and we were tortured

So the last few hours in Paris were torture–we left the internet cafe to arrive at the station a couple of hours before our train was to depart, and it was horrible. I finished Educating Esme (Heather’s book) and almost cried from the cold once I had nothing left to distract me.

Passed out on the train and finally arrived in Marseille to be greeted with rain. Took the metro to one stop away–no one regretted it: we were cold, tired, and it was raining. We saw Frannie in the hotel lobby, went up, hung out for a bit, showered, then passed out for four hours or so.

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Port, mad goats and MASH–blast from the past

So we went to go see the port and though it was rather gloomy outside, it was such a beautiful setting. Marseille has an old, small-town feel to it, almost like it never left the past and doesn’t ever need to. There are small restaurants, fruit stores, tiny supermarkets (not so super.), bakeries, and little clothing shops. All so small!

As we left the pier, we saw three goats–a mom, a dad and a baby. The dad goat walked toward us and we got frightened, and then he sped up a bit and I was so completely frightened, but remembered (or made up) the fact that running means fear and they’ll chase you or some such nonsense, so I didn’t run! Very proud moment for me. Scary stuff.

We went back after doing a bit of food shopping, ate three loaves of bread and two bags of pasta with sauce for dinner.

Played True Love and MASH for the remainder of the night and watched BBC news because it was the only English-speaking channel–nice though because I felt rather disconnected from the world as we travelled.

MASH results: Turns out Catlett is marrying all three of us girls and turning out 50 children. Craig is marrying Princess Jasmine. Frannie is a prostitute.

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American accents, Edmond Dantes, THE CHATEAU D’IF!!

We went back to the Port the next morning and it was just gorgeous outside. Saw a guy chopping up eels and selling the pieces. We ate crepes and paninis (I got a sugar and banana crepe–delicious!) at a restaurant by the port. Our waiter there asked where I was from.

“I’m from the U.S.–the States,” I replied.

“The U.S.!” he exclaimed. “You are American?” To which I nodded. “Your accent does not sound American!”

“Oh?” I laughed. “What kind of accent do I have?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Oh, I don’t know. You speak well–enunciate. Other Americans say, ’seeyou.’ They put words together–slur.” He turns to Craig. “You sound American.”

Hahahaha! He was so funny and friendly. I was very flattered! And the crepes were delicious.

We went back to the pier and took more pictures. Figured out which little island thing held the Chateau d’If and rejoiced when we realized which one it was! So exciting! Also funny was on the way to walking to the pier, we saw a boat named the Edmond Dantes! And it cruised all the way to the island!

Took some silly pictures and tons of pictures of the Chateau d’If!

Written March 31, 2008 (pictures added): in a paris internet cafe kicking time in the NECK.

We have been in Paris since about 9pm, and if it weren’t for the fact that we’ve been on the move for two weeks+ (and I’m exhausted, and my feet feel like i’ve been walking on cobblestones…oh wait, I really have been walking on cobblestone streets this entire time), I really wouldn’t be complaining about being stuck here.

But it’s been two weeks since I’ve been able to sleep for a decent amount of time, comfortably and in a quiet room. I’m cranky and at the point past ’sleepy,’ the one that, as a group, we’ve defined as ‘loopy.’ It’s fitting. Getting up to buy another hour on the computer, I stumbled and fell over, not realizing that there was a mini-ramp to the side until I actually was on my butt and touching it (the ramp).

That was fun.

To give myself a little credit though, it’s a bit dim on this side of the internet cafe as it’s sort of the ‘gamer’-side; the computer screens are even larger. Earlier today there were a bunch of people playing WoW and that made me chuckle on the inside a bit.

Anyway, onto how our little predicament began.

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Spring forward stabbed us in the back

Heather, Craig, Catlett and I woke up this morning after a late, fun night out in Cologne, Germany, in high spirits, sort of sleepy, but pretty much happy with life. And then we get a text from Frannie saying, “Did you guys remember to turn your clocks forward?” or something along those lines and all our good feelings pretty much dissipated. That moment was sort of a stand-still, and then I announced her message to the others and the whole world seemed to be at a stand-still…well, if only.

We booked it out of there, caught a cab and made it to the train at 12:13pm, just in time to see the doors shut. We got to touch those doors, marvel at the fact that they didn’t open, cried a little on the inside as we watched people on the platform wave to people inside the train that slowly pulled out and away from us, and got pissed.

FanTAStic.

We then went to make new reservations, and of course that meant spending more money. Our train was originally for 12:14pm, and the next one that had available seats left at 5:17pm or some crazy time like that. Our train for Marseille is at 6:16am this morning…only about 3 hours until it’s time to leave! How exciting. So we also lost time in Marseille. Poor Frannie is all alone in Marseille, had to check into the apartment-hotel we rented for two nights. At least we’ll be able to spend time there tomorrow relaxing–we’re going to be dead tired.

Well, I suppose that isn’t too much of a change from the rest of the trip thus far. I feel as if I’m in a perpetual state of exhaustion-but it’s happy exhaustion! Which is ok, except I’m the kind of person that needs 10+ hours of sleep, five pillows, a comfy mattress, a sheet, and a down blanket to really get a good night’s rest. That’s not including the lack of stress, lack of caffeine in the system and other weird things that disrupt sleep–there are many. I’m rather picky that way. But when all those conditions are met, man, I’m in heaven.

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Homeless in Paris

     

So Paris is gorgeous at night. At the turn of the hour at one o’clock in thh morning, we walked around and saw the Eiffel Tower explode in white lights from the tons of white light bulbs they fastened to it, took night pictures of the Louvre, saw the Arch de Triumph (sp?), and some other stuff too. Wondrous. Just as important were how sore my feet were, how cramped my left calf was, and how my body would feel come tomorrow. Oh well.

Anyway, I was rather excited to be a wanderer tonight. It’s not often that you’re in Europe with nothing to do but meander down cobblestone streets surrounded by history! And, not that this is a bad thing, we’ve had our entire trip planned pretty much to the tee up to this point. I was anticipating going around Paris without a plan and a place to stay, like a hobo! Except not really. But it was an adventure! Is…but it got old rather quickly haha–-getting sleepy and cold and tired will do that to you, I guess. Though I suppose we are in Paris, and that is something to be envied. I guess.

Heather and Craig are on the computer as well, and Catlett’s passed out on the table next to me.

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Goals for tomorrow: cleansing

Heather and I dream of clean clothes and hope to find a laundromat tomorrow near our apartment. We want to shower upon arriving there, want to relax all day. We may wander around and admire how pretty Marseille is, and I definitely want to see the Chataue d’If-like from Alexandre Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo!-but I’d also really just like to be a vegetable.

Catlett said the day after we arrive back at Sheffield he plans to not move from his bed. When he first said it, I admit to laughing a bit in incredulity, but soon after, and especially now, I’m thinking I could do that for a week after arriving and not be discomfitted in the least.

Ok, Heather’s now out like a light. Her time ran out on the internet, and she set her head down, and I think she’s gone. That’s nice.

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Pluses

- Have now been to Paris twice.

- Ate a ham and tomato panini and a nutella and banana crepe.

- Got to see Paris at night and not crawling with ant-people (people who are pushy, annoying, all over).

- Got some exercise? (Perhaps I’m pushing it with this one.)

- Got to talk to the parents and brother on Skype-chat. Miss them terribly. May come back to Europe next summer with them and start the fun all over again!

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P.S. I want more space cakes from Barney’s coffeeshop in Amsterdam.

We were only in Cologne for two half days: Sat. 3/29-Sun. 3/30

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Sunlight, FINALLY

 

We arrived mid-day in Cologne, Germany, amid great weather and high spirits because of that. Weather in Paris was rather unfriendly, as was the weather in Paris, so stepping out of the train station in Cologne to be blinded by sunlight was a very happy surprise for us (me, Catlett, Craig and Heather).

The cathedral we’d heard about from Catlett and Craig’s friends from the Hofbrauhaus was right beside the station, so we headed in there for our first stop. It was gorgeous and old. I’m afraid I’m rather desensitized to cathedrals now after this trip–they were all so gorgeous and old. It’s not that they’re no longer awe-inspiring, but I’m not really incredibly excited to see them anymore. Merely…very excited I guess.

Anyway.

After looking around in there for a bit, we eventually headed off in search of our hostel.

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Hostel am Rheinauhafen

On the way we passed by a big pedestrian street filled with people–it was lined with tons of shops and is apparently famous for being a shopping district. Lovely to see all those stores, especially for Heather and I as we were both going into the end of our second week with the same few clothes we’d worn over and over. Felt like burning clothes at this point, which you must know is the edge if girls feel this way.

Anyway, we soon found our hostel and, as the name of the hostel should have clued us in on, was right by the Rhein! The hostel was very nice–had a 6 bed mixed dorm all to ourselves. Very comfy beds and extra blankets and pillows, which was wonderful!

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Dinosaurs in the chocolate museum and craziness on the roof

       

So we were all super exuberant about the great weather that we were rather loopy when we went to the chocolate museum. It was so incredibly sunny and warm outside that we were beside ourselves with happiness that it was almost insanity.

The chocolate factory was fun, saw some rather humongous cocoa beans and seeds, laughed at the chocolate beer and liquor (both of which the boys bought at the end), saw some of those hollow chocolate figures (you know the ones they sell on easter, mostly bunnies) being made, saw truffles being made, saw a huge chocolate fountain (and got a free sample! well…two.) and then went into the heated cocoa plant room.

Heather and I acted like dinosaurs in the wild among the tropical plants as Catlett recorded a Jurassic Park-like documentary in his superb Aussie accent. Silly stuff, but so fun!

   

We then went onto the roof of the museum, which is sort of like an extended balcony, over which you can see the Rhein (the museum is right on the river). Across the river was a carnival, which was just nice to see because it added to how great the day was. The boys tried the chocolate liquor. We acted like silly Americans and probably frightened all the others on the roof with our enthusiasm about silly photography.

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Shopping and karaoke with Germans

Heat and I then went shopping a bit at H&M, and the boys went through torture. Then we went to a supermarket and they got a couple of mini-kegs to pregame with before we went out.

It turns out that Cologne is a big party place! Lots of clubs and pubs to go into, lots of people our age, and very lively and vibrant at night! It almost seemed to have a bigger night life than Sheffield because all of their going out places were concentrated in one area.

We found a club called Hurricane or Tornado or something and went inside to find that it was karaoke night! We met a few German guys who were so friendly and fun and who bought us some drinks (Kolsh or something like that–Cologne beer–because they wanted us to experience Germany at its finest haha!). We also drank a couple of shots–yum, tequila! They sang, “It’s My Life” by Bon Jovi and pulled Catlett and I up on stage with them, and then we (the four Americans) sang, “Bye Bye Bye” by N’Sync! It was so much fun and some of the Germans joined us on stage as well. Then they sang, “Sweet Home Alabama,” and it was so much fun!

Then we went back to the hostel and passed out.

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So the next part of what happened has already been written about, so I’m reposting it and deleting the old post. Coming up!

 

Thurs. 3/27 – Sat. 3/29

Was very neausous until we got off the Tram to the stop we thought was closest to our hotel, the Golden Tulip Apollo.

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The Venice of the North

 

Got super excited that night when we went to wander around because Amsterdam looked like the Venice of the north! Lots of beautiful canals lined with lights, clean, classic looking townhomes, cobblestone streets…it just seemed so northern to me, but with canals! Absolutely loved it–may be one of my favorite places!

Walked around a lot that night, saw ladies in the window (not very good-looking, really, and so I initially thought they were tanning…in the windows–what was I supposed to think?), smelled some weed from coffee shops and on some people! Lots of Heineken signs. Must be their Super Bock (Porto).

Ate at an Italian restaurant that night and splurged on pasta.

Dutch is such a funny language–it sounds funny to me. I don’t know why. Was also like Greek to me. I knew ZERO words.

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Another New Europe free tour :)

 

These tours are awesome. Period. (In case you didn’t catch the emphasis on the period after that first sentence, right?)

We missed the first tour that began at 11am because I assumed it was in one place when it ended up being in another. We caught the 1pm one, and our guide was utterly hilarious. He was just silly! He also looked EXACTLY like Casey (the name is courtesy of Catlett, who know who I meant right away) from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie–I don’t remember which! The same guy who’s now in Law and Order.

Anyway, our guide began with us following him as he walked hsi bike to Dam’s Square with the monument and palace in the plaza, and to get through the crowd in front of our meeting point, he honked the little bell on his bike haha! He was just so crazy–apparently from the farmlands of Holland, working at a coffeeshop now, yeah. We got to the monument and there’s a man standing there.

Our guide says, “Everyone, so, I want you to meet my father. Say hello to my father everyone!”

Some people said, “Hello!”

And then our guide says with a hand cupping the side of his mouth, “No, he’s not really my father, haha! I don’t know who he is. He’s a drunk I think…” and some other silly stuff while the guy is standing right there! He continues his introduction then, and when he looks over next, his ‘father’ is gone, and he says, “Where’d my father go?” hahaha! So silly!

 

Anyway, we learned some interesting stuff about drugs. And also about Amsterdam’s history of course. Went by the Red Light district, saw ladies in windows again, saw the question-mark-shaped men’s public bathrooms (plain view), and what used to be ladies bathrooms–weird orange, rocket-shaped contraptions that turned into heroin addict shelters and were therefore shut down.

Also saw Anne Frank’s house, which was very sad. Um…in the picture above, it’s the one where the Fed Ex truck is somewhat blocking it…I’m a superb photographer.

Also saw and later went into De Dampkring coffeeshop, which was featured in Ocean’s 12. It’s where Matt Damon, Brad Pitt, and George Clooney talk to Massusee or whatever his name is–that character is played by the guy who plays Hagrid in Harry Potter. Anyway, it’s so funny because they play the clip over and over again, and also clips about the history of weed and hemp. The inside has cool colors and a very cool atmosphere–sort of trippy-looking.

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Barney’s Coffeeshop, then Van Gogh museum…good combo, I must say

That night, after going to De Dampkring, we went to Barney’s coffeeshop. It was so cool in there–very modern-looking with lots of Jimi Hendrix music playing. I ate salsa and chips, shared 3 muffins/space cakes with Heat and Craig, and also had a coffee milkshake.

We first shared one space cake because Heather and Craig said you don’t know how hard it’ll hit you. When we didn’t feel anything, we shared two more. We had two strawberry ones and one chocolate–the strawberry ones were DELICIOUS.

I really had no idea what I was supposed to feel, and didn’t really realize I was feeling it until we went to the Van Gogh museum and had to be pulled away by Heather when I got left behind lots. Eating those things was also a spur of the moment decision–I’d been debating, but then they ordered, and I was mentally like, what the hell? Yum.

Wanted to buy a shirt and one for Frankie, but they didn’t have the sizes and flipped out at Craig when he wanted to buy one.

So we went to the Van Gogh museum afterwards and that was SO cool. I was really relaxed and focused and in a sort of zone really, very chill. I think it made the museum so much cooler and more wondrous and I loved it so much. I read every single plaque next to each and every scribble and painting. Saw Mallais’ Lady Ophelia and watched part of a documentary on it–had to focus really hard for some reason because first it would be an English person speaking with Dutch subtitles, and then it would be a Dutch person speaking with English subtitles, and I would focus on the word when the English person was on, and sometimes forget to start reading the subtitles when the Dutch person came on. That was very interesting stuff though, and then Heather got me because I was being left behind.

Saw Touluz Loutrec (sp?!), the one with the lady, saw Van Gogh scribbles on the backs of restaurant menus. Saw his major works–place is so cool!

Anyway, the walk back was cold, but it was nice. Catlett laughed at me and said I was high, and I guess I was? I suppose I got giggly on the way back, and especially in the room–could not stop laughing and tears literally started pouring out of my eyeballs. Well, from the ducts. Eh, semantics, yeah?

Um…there were reasons behind the laughing though, but I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to explain because it was so funny, and by the time I finished laughing, we’d moved on to a different topic or they’d stop caring because everything was so crazy.

Yeah so…I suppose the word of the day is ‘alamond.’ I’m too embarrassed to explain.

Got a sandwich, candy and juice at the Shell gas station.

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Onto Cologne!

 

So we were in Paris Tuesday night (3/25) to Thursday morning ( 3/27).

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My first impression of Paris was that of a very bustling city–a European New York with seemingly the exact same sort of drivers. Our taxi driver drove like we were in the Philippines, where the street lanes are merely suggestions and other cars are obstactles that you must sometimes bump to move out of the way.

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A nice waiter at a cafe on the Rue Ramey

Because we had to be sneaky here in Paris, I was the sneak king this time around.

I waited down the street from our hostel while the boys checked in, and found a little cafe on the street corner, which beat staring at fruit outside a shop in the cold with the store-owner staring at me staring. That was awkward for the ten seconds I attempted that particular stalling technique.

Was rather flustered just upon entering the cafe soon after because when I pushed open the door, I hit somebody. He was dressed in a red shirt with the air of a waiter. I took in the fact that I hit him with a door, and the fact that the cafe looked much like a bar, and then turned to him asking, “Cafe?” as in, “is there coffee here or just alcohol, because if it’s the latter, I’ll go back and stand and stare at fruit while the store-owner stares at me, probably thinking that, with this backpacking pack still on my back, I’m about to commit some sort of theivery.”

Mr. Kind Waiter replied, “Coffee? a;sldgasldjg…to the bar,” and led me there. I didn’t speak too much because I hear that they like it if you try to speak some French, and I knew not one whit of French besides ‘merci,’ and I also didn’t want people to be unfriendly to me just because I am American, but I think it just seemed like I was either mute or extra foreign.

Anyway, I waited at the bar for a bit because I didn’t know what I was supposed to do–the one guy at the bar seemed very occupied, and I figured, I had time to kill. Mr. Kind Waiter came back around to stand beside me, then he yelled, “Cafe creme!” at another guy at the counter, and soon I had it. It came with a little biscuit too! Yum.  Delicious–the coffee too, though it was 3.90 euros. Perhaps my mind is compromising for paying that much!

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Tower at night

   

The boys soon found me and we headed to the Louvre. Took some pictures outside and nearby though.

     

It turned out to be closed as it was a Tuesday, so we headed to the Eiffel Tower–gorgeous at night! I liked it better then than when we saw it during the day. Granted, it was rather gloomy outside, but I still think it was beautiful at night, what with the lights lighting up its bones like a fluorescent skeleton.

Took quite a few pictures, took one looking up under the tower and sort of felt like I was invading someone’s privacy. Odd, that feeling.

Got to see the reaction when the turn of the clock catalyzed the Tower in a brilliant array of hundreds of flashing white lights.

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Very nice French receptionist at Le Montclaire Hostel

So I snuck up to the room that night, and when the boys came to meet me, they said that everything was all right. They’d spoken to the receptionist, asking if it was all right to have a third person in our room because they (I) ended up coming to Paris too. The guy said technically it’s not allowed, but if he didn’t know about it (wink wink), then it’d be okay. Boys bought him wine. How friendly!

It was a bunk bed with tiny beds, and Craig went to sleep early and slept on the bottom bunk. Seriously. Catlett and I tried to share the top one, but it was awfully hard, and he ended up sleeping on the floor–poor guy! He seems to have slept on the floor more than on a bed throughout the trip!

Ate free breakfast of baguettes, coffee, hot chocolate…

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New Europe free tours are awesome

         

Then went on another of those New Europe free tours! It was four hours long, but it was wonderful, funny, interesting–the tour guides work off of tips so they do their best to make the tours great. We learned a LOT about French history, saw and learned a lot about many sites we otherwise would probably never have seen or would have passed by obliviously.

There was a funny story–I think it was about the bridge on the Pont Neuf–about how a king (King Henry IV?) with a wonderful sense of humor was having a fabulous party with all his top guys. They ran out of champagne so he used his king card and got out tons of red wine to keep the party going. All his top officials were his good buddies, so he went to the sculptors of the castle and said, make sketches of all my boys–and because champagne and red wine apparently don’t mix very well, the sketches and the sculptures that were consequently created from said sketches were not very appealing. The faces on this bridge are absolutely hilarious–one looks like he’s about to throw up!

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She smiled at me, but children got in the way and made me frustrated

       

After the tour we went to the Louvre for 9 euros. It really is as huge as everyone says and warns. Apparently, if you go through the entire thing and see all 30,000+ pieces for 30 seconds apiece, it’ll take approximately four YEARS to get through it!

We were so tired and exhausted after the tour though, and from lack of sleep, that we didn’t stay too long. We did get to see the Mona Lisa though! Also the Napoleon III apartments and also quite a few other pieces, but we were too tired to really enjoy or relish them. It was nice to go in and experience it though. I feel like the Louvre is more of an experience, really, than anything else. Another thing that may have made me feel even more exhausted, however, may have been the hundreds of children crawling all over the place. Seriously. After this trip I feel as if I have lost my patience with children as a group.

We also ended up seeing Alli randomly! We walked by her, and Catlett and I look at each other wondering, “Is that her?” And so I turn back around and say, “Alli! Alli! ALLI!” But she didn’t turn around, but we were pretty sure that it was her. So then we walked back over and then she SCREAMED and hugged us and it was good fun.

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France vs. England: don’t worry, it was a football match

That night we watched the England vs. Franch football match with another one of the French receptionists–he was very friendly and I liked how, when one of the players lifted up his shirt so the crowd could see a commemoration in French to a man who’d passed away, I was able to turn to this French receptionist and ask, “What does that say?” And he told me, though I can’t remember what the message was anymore.

Hung out with Heather and Jay a bit. Craig and Catlett drank some wine–Craig had 2.25 bottles or so and left 15 minutes before the game ended and about 10 minutes before Heat and Jay showed up. Catlett helped him up the 5 flights of winding steps to our room.

Catlett and I later went up, and it’s a bit of a story, that night, but it’s a Craig-secret that has brought us all closer together.

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The next day we saw Notre Dame :o)

Then we were off to Amsterdam!

Girls’ Night Out

Do you want the reality or the lie? Both are good fun :o)

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The poor boys felt left out, retaliated with a Boys’ Night and some masculine raaaaaring

Last night was the Annexe’s self-proclaimed Girls’ Night Out. We all got dressed and agreed to convene down in the common room before heading off to Vodka Revolution.

Heat, Frannie and I get down there and are greeted with boys who feel they’ve been scorned. Though they don’t have what hell hath no fury like, and just seemed silly and sad when they yelled and said mean things about us intruding on Boys’ Night in the common. “What happened to Girls’ Night? Aren’t you going to Vodka Rev? Why haven’t you left yet? You can’t be here! It’s Boys’ Night down here!”

Stephan shouted a bit, and, because he’s German and large, was rather frightening. Catlett was apparently not very friendly. Troy and Brandon threw cans at walls.

Overall, not very impressive. More like gorillas.

Also took their pants off to commemorate their boys’ night. Asked Garrett why he didn’t join in the taking off of the pants, and he replied, “I don’t know, but this isn’t what we do when it’s guys’ night back home,” hahahaha! And then later, as we wished them farewell and a have a good boys’ night, he said, “I don’t know about boys’ night,” and we asked, “Why not?” and he told us, “It’ll be more of a ‘Man Night.’” Hahah, what a silly Aussie!

Anyway, the girls and I went over to the other side of the common room. The boys were playing circle of death/kings on the pong table, so we left them on that side, but after their game, they, for some reason, meandered over to our side of the room to harass us again. This later was fuel for laughter at them, but more on that later.

“Bad Touch” by the Bloodhound Gang played and Rob did the German Club line dance, which reminded me of Joe! Haha–good times being Cho Chang and Harry Potter!

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Nine hookers on a corner

So there were nine girls total when we left and stood at the corner of Shore Lane and Fulwood. We initally planned on taking the bus, but after a few minutes of dawdling and chatting, as girls are wont to do, we realized that the buses stopped running right when we arrived. We then ordered two cabs to take us to Vodka Rev.

While we waited, we laughed at how the boys were acting like jilted lovers and how it seemed like they felt left out! It was hilarious. It made us determined to have the best night ever, which we did. Though we planned to lie and tell stories if we, for some reason, didn’t have a great night or somehow didn’t end up anywhere–we would’ve stayed on that street corner until the wee hours of the morning if we’d had to. Haha!

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We closed down Vodka Rev

VR is a very posh, chic bar/club with expensive drinks, notorious for their rails and extensive flavored vodka selection. We all got VK mixed drinks (Blue and Apple). So perfect for our girls’ night because the boys are very cheap/careful with their money, and so are we!–but we had to do it RIGHT.

We danced and drank until the bar closed–we were the last ones there and kept on until the music stopped (“please don’t stop the music…”), and the bar tenders began to sweep the floors. We danced with one of the bouncers because he was silly, and then outside with the DJ as we left.  

Then we headed to Bar One, which was closed, and then on to The Harley where we continued our dancing spree to disco and funk music. They played “All Right Now” by Free, which made my NIGHT.

Then we walked home, which was a seriously difficult trek as I was, unwisely, wearing my heels. We got Padrino’s pizza and fries, ate and chatted there, vented and gossiped (wasn’t it a girls’ night? haha), then headed home.

Catlett was still up with Aussie Tom, so we talked to them a bit and related tales of our night (free drinks from British boys and talked about lingerie night and the cool girls we met!), then went upstairs.

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Great night overall. We all plan to have a weekly Girls’ Night, if only to spite the boys further, but also because it’s nice to get away from them, and last night was so much fun :o)

Ok, this is not so much my procrastination acting up so much as a reflection on what I’ve read and thus realized about narratives after reading Salman Rushie’s Shame.

Hopefully this will be the only time you will ever read me philosophizing, because I hate philosophy.

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Anyway, I’ve thought about this somewhat before too, but here’s the initial question:

What if there was a way to document why we do everything we do? What if, somehow, there was a way to pinpoint how something (something you’ve seen, felt, done, experienced, etc.) directly affects how you see, feel, do, experience, etc., everything else in your life in the future? How one particular point in your life (see the list mentioned twice now) affects everything else you do and think, and is continuously added upon by each new little thing?

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For example:

When I was little I used to always have dry lips and licked them a lot, so Dad would continuously hand me chap-stick. Now, I always have to have chap-stick on me–there’s one in my jacket pocket, one in my bag, and one in my make-up kit. I’ve actually just now realized I do carry it around everywhere. Interesting, that.

Anyway, you see?

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But what of the little things? What of the things we consciously don’t realize but subconsciously take in that affect us on such a deep level that we can’t even comprehend it?

This philosophical turn of mind arose because I’m reading this rather fabulous novel for my Introduction to Post-Colonial Literature class (we read texts from the points of view of those who are of cultures that have been colonized). The way Rushdie narrates, and most authors who focus on characterization rather than popular plotlines do as well, creates a pattern of one thing leading to another because of the way that first thing has affected the character.

That is to say, readers are shown what has happened to a character. Then, later on, we are shown how a character reacts to something else, and can then connect why, understand why and almost feel as if we could have predicted why that character has reacted a certain way.

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For example:

Arjumand was nicknamed “Ironpants” for turning away all her suitors because she is a very strong person, independent, and very mean. She loves only her father, even though he was not so admirable before he had a change of heart, until she meets a young man who is reminiscient of her father before that change of heart. She believes that this man, Haroun, is pretty much her father reincarnated (if she believed in such idolatry, which was blasphemous), and with her help, could suffer a change of heart and become a great man like her father. She fell in love with him.

He, like all the men of the world, wants to be with her, and because she’s done it to everyone else and can’t seem to turn it off, she drives him away with “that terrible and uninterruptedly disgusted gaze.” She regrets it immediately and, when he is bethrothed to another woman, she goes into a rage and later says to her mirror, “God damn. Life is shit.” (This cracked me up like no other; I don’t know why.)

Yeah, so then she pretty much lives her life in worship to her father.

And this made me think, it’s easy in a novel–a fictional narrative–to say, because she accidentally pushed away the only man she ever loved, other than her father, she decides to love no one else BUT her father.

Point A leads to Point B.

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Fiction vs. Real Life: besides the fact that one is fake and one is real

There’s also, of course, the huge difference between fiction and real life, though Coetzee would say that fiction is like real life, it just hasn’t happened yet (something like that). I feel like there’s a vast separation between the two not just because one is real and one isn’t, but because in fiction, we seem to get all the facts–we get as much as is necessary to understand what is happening and why. Life isn’t like that, and I don’t want to get too philosophical about it because I’ll hate myself, but we will never have all the facts. 

I don’t know, it just seemed interesting to me that in novels, people are so easy to understand–we are shown why they act the way they do and we come to believe that we know them, know their motives and aspirations. Authors seem to feel a sense of accomplishment when their readers say, “I feel like I KNOW your character!” And perhaps this is because they’ve accomplished what is essentially un-accomplishable.

In real life, I guess it’s not so easy. We can think, oh, well, this girl acts like this because her dad is a drunk. But we don’t know that for sure. We think so, but we don’t know. What is it about his being drunk drove her to do this and that–the smell of alcohol? the way he passed out on the floor every night in the fetal position? how he always ate only the puffy, most orange cheetoes when he got the munchies? what nerve did that small pinpointed thing hit within that girl that made her finger twitch? that made her brain think she was being tickled? that reminded her of something else, which made her then react by stealing the neighbor’s toothbrush?

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Not quite a conclusion, but a wrapping up of thoughts of sorts

I just thought it was interesting–thinking about what it would be like to know yourself so well that you could pinpoint why you got scared of a shadow that looked like a lollipop as you were walking home. Lollipops have never scared you, you like lollipops, but for some reason you were terrified of the shadow of one last night (this is not a real life example; I made this up because it is absurd).

I thought it was interesting to think about what it would be like to understand why people act the way they do, trace their lives and everything that happened in them, and add up how each little thing culminated together to the point where they said that in such a way at such a time with such a tone of voice, etc.

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Philosophizing at an end.

Yeah, so I promise to be quiet about my own thoughts like that for a while. I apologize for the rambles, but as the subtitle of the blog warns, this blog is for rambles and rants. 

On the plus side, these are cheaper than thoughts, which cost a penny. And they’re doubly cheap because here in England we only have one pence coins, and those are worth two pennies in the US.

It’s nice being back at Sheffield, the quasi-home and familiar place that I’ve lived in for only approximately five weeks.

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Squash, the laziest veggie of them all, at least in my mind

I missed being a vegetable. I was thinking about it earlier, and I’m going to liken myself to a squash. I couldn’t really think of too many vegetables at the time–carrot? green bean? broccoli?–and finally settled on squash because I’ve been putting on weight, and also because they seem like the laziest of all vegetables to me.

Have been trying to catch up on sleep and relaxation because I’ve been feeling sick and also because I like sleep and relaxation. If you know me, you’ll know that hours of relaxation and 10+ hours of sleep a night are necessary to my survival. I have not gotten the 10+ hours of sleep since arriving on this continent, and the hours of vegetation have been in minutes it seems like. Classes and such getting in the way.

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Parents think they’ve paid for me to travel around Europe and read books, not go to school

I’m not going to lie, it seems like this title is the truth. Though that’s merely how they do things here! The travelling is not included, but the book-reading is. They read lots and go to lectures every so often, and then they take one exam or write solely two essays to demonstrate their retention of the bequeathed knowledge. I have two books + poems + secondary essays + textbook readings to muddle through each week.

This is difficult because, as I’ve mentioned before, I need to somehow fit in those hours of vegetation that are so essential for me. And there’s also that disease called procrastination that I fight so hard every single day of my life. Such a difficult life I lead, I know.

So it seems like I have much to do now, and I do. I was in a new country meeting new people so those first five weeks here in Sheffield were exploratory weeks, and now I find myself having to crack down on my haphazard ways and hit the books. Sometimes I do, quite literally, against walls. But that’s not the point.

The point is, the main reason that my parents believe that I have conned them into paying for a four-month vacation for me is that I’ve finally found out what my exam schedule is like. My last class of the semester is on May 16th. My first exam is on June 3rd. My other two fall on June 6th and June 12th respectively.

Surely you understand how they might think I was lying about going to an actual school here when I’ve just told them that I have two weeks of no classes or exams to kill (perhaps to travel during). This would be an impossibility at home as usually we have ONE reading day at Tech. Here they have a WEEK.

However, the reason is because there is a lot of independent study and revising that must go on (revising=reviewing or studying here, which took a while for me to figure out; I wondered if perhaps I wasn’t doing assignments and then was missing revising them or something). Anyway, they also only have one exam a semester.

So, I told the family to visit, namely Dad who has tons of days off and who would love to drink lots of European beer. I know he is tempted, and I hope to coerce him into coming every single night we skype :o)

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Catlett’s 21st Birthday

Dear Catlett took his birthday off of facebook because he thinks of it as just another day, would like to avoid birthday message spamming on facebook and in his email, doesn’t want to be older than 19 ever, and didn’t want to get falling down drunk and be a fool on his birthday.

A few of us here greatly protested each point he made for why he did not like birthdays.

1) It was the day he was born, for which we are all very happy about sometimes = thank you Mr. and Mrs. Catlett :o)

2) We all actually love birthday spammage! It’s nice to hear from people you haven’t spoken to in years, nice knowing they remember who you are and are still nice enough people that they wish you a great birthday

3) Being legal in the US is always a plus–it is the culmination of your long, long life thus far in one single day when you must drink until you almost die, as is the tradition of people all over the world (I’ve learned it’s not just in the US!), but more on drinking until death next

4) It’s the day when you can be as awfully drunk and crazy as possible and have people love you for it, it’s the day when you can be a fool, and not remember and listen to the stories the next night when you finally get over your hangover, and it’s the day when people will buy you as many drinks as they can stuff down your throat.

I bought him a tub of ice cream the day before his birthday in place of the cookies I had planned to make (because they don’t sell cookie mix and I was not about to begin his birthday with the disaster of Mika trying to make cookies from scratch) and came back to the Annexe to find that there is no freezer here, so I had to give it to him a day early because it was melting in the refridgerator. Is that not the back jacket summary to the paper-back novel of my life?

Anyway, went to Bar One the night before the clock turned a hand to Catlett’s Big Day, and people were stuffing shots and drinks down his throat. Apparently he did not like that and left and isolated himself in his room later that night to escape, and he continued to hide away the entire next day (his birthday, man!). He was rather drunk though, to give him credit, and amazingly stable enough that he made it to his room without maiming himself.

Was hiding in his room the next day, finally caught him later to give him his presents, which I’d gotten on Sunday: a big bottle of ketchup (because he loves tons of ketchup on everything) and chips and salsa (because he never splurges on himself; that is, he never spends money to get himself yummy things).

I also made two gorgeous signs, if I do say so myself. One was from me saying, “Happy Birthday, Catlett!” with lots of his famous quotes from our trip, Wheezy lyrics, a picture of a hoodie because I am an artist, also a picture of a doxen and chips and salsa and some other awesome stuff. I never knew I was so good of a drawer. This is me being sarcastic. I find myself having to actually say, “I’m being sarcastic, now,” because apparently people can’t tell, and then they seem to think I’m being sarcastic when I’m not. I tell them if I am now to avoid confusion. Anyway, I also made one from Catlett’s mom because she said to say happy birthday to him, so I made an extra sign and it was so pretty with a picture of “boy in flowers”–I actually really liked this picture–and a bigger doxen picture, which wasn’t fat enough or long enough body-wise, and some other fun stuff like that. I do hope he enjoyed them.

Then that night we went to the York to watch the Liverpool-Arsenal match and it was SO EXCITING and wonderful to watch! Then they went to Bar One again, and Catlett held strong against too many drinks because he said he didn’t want to be a fool on his birthday, which made me kind of sad, but bravo to him for that iron will of his, because really, it’s strong–it might even be made of adamantium.

That’s Catlett in a nutshell for you–adamantium will, amazing memory (though he still has to convince me that this is still true because it’s been lacking recently), goal-oriented (job with the government; also ties in with that impossible will power of his), and practical. I think I’ve written the perfect summary for his resume here.

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Anyway, I’ve procrastinated for 5.5 hours today blogging, eating dinner, and writing a novel to Cow. I suppose it’s time to do as I mentioned earlier in this post and crack down on some books. Wish me luck, for I fear that the procastination disease is especially violent today.