Word Scribbles

Berlin Wall

You know how when you're on the phone and someone says something important really quickly, and you try to scribble it down but they go so quickly that you don't quite get all of it. That's probably what this will be.

I'm in Berlin! And I have no desire to leave. I really, really love it here! I got here on. . . Tuesday? I think that's right.

Cliff Notes: Nadja picked me up from the train station and we ate kebabs. The next day I had lunch with Sarah Germini, who I was in a bible study with in Berkeley. She's studying here for the summer. Took a long nap. Went out with Nadja & Philip that night, came home early, slept. Then Thursday. . . what did I do yesterday? Oh, duh! I went on a really cool Free Walking Tour. They have them in lots of cities. Young people showing young people around, they give you all the deets.

Germany is really good at their memorials. The main Holocaust memorial is in the middle of the city, where everyone can't help but see it. It's a grid of big black, square stones at different heights on uneven ground. When you walk through, it's super eerie and disorienting and cold and isolating and nothing looks familiar. The artist left a lot up to interpretation. There's no given explanation or plaque describing what the memorial specifically represents. They don't want people to go to read a paragraph and check it off the lift.

(It's now three day later from when I wrote the above post. I don't entirely feel like writing. . . but there's nothing in particular I want to do more, and I want to stay near the computer for when my family comes on Skype so I can tell my dad HAPPY BIRTHDAY, so I will continue writing). 


Yes, Germany is still really good with their memorials. They're thought provoking and intentional and very well done. Germany is also very intentional about what they don't memorialize. For example, the bunker where Hitler died has been sealed off. They tried to destroy it with bombs, but it was a bomb shelter. No luck there. So it's now flooded and sealed off, and the locations of the entrances are not public knowledge. The land on top of the bunker is now a dirt parking lot where people take their dogs to do their business and anything set up by neo-Nazis in Hitler's honor will be soon run over. There is no marker.

After the walking tour, I met up with Fran, who you may remember from my Paris posts. She's a friend from Berkeley and we met in the dorms. We walked around and saw the east gallery (painted Berlin wall), drank beer, ate potatoes, went (window) shopping, and had a grand German day. But more than what we did, I want to talk about Fran. Fran is one of the most impressive people I know. She is just so . . . lovely. And beautiful. Inside and out. She's the most hospitable person in the world. She used to host Thursday nights for all of us post-Freeborn, and she always had food. AND she's brilliant. I remember when she lived in the dorms, she would just bust out awesome papers in one night. Not even read them over when she was done - didn't need to. But what most impresses me about Fran is the way she makes you feel. She knows a lot about a lot. She was the one that was able to explain fine art to me, AND she taught me a lot about German history while we were here in Berlin, and she told me everything like she was just chatting with a friend, not a "I know so much, let me teach you everything you somehow don't know" arrogant kind of way. Never did she say, "Seriously? You didn't know that?" although she probably could have. And she has a way of being so approachable that I talk to her about things without feeling like I have to defend myself, even if our opinions differ. Suffice it to say, it was an absolute pleasure to spend the afternoon with her.

(Skype with the fam-bam!)

The next day I met up with some people that I had met on the walking tour the day before. That was cool. Saw things. Did things. Ate things. Good day. One girl, Christa, has been traveling for I think 5 months now before she starts grad school for public health. She was super cool, and I hope to keep up contact with her. That night, I went out with Nadja and Phillip. A surprise to all of us, the only drink any of us bought was water. We're hardcore.

this counts as my apple pie pic

The next day, I slept in then went to the lake with Nadja, Phillipp, and Freda (Frida?), who is Nadja's adorable little dog. Then we went to Nadja's stepdad's birthday in a garden. It was really cool. There was this whole area of gardens that are owned by different people who don't have a room for a garden at their house. I wanted to contribute, so I brought (you guessed it!) apple pie. The pie was a hit, so that's fun. But before the pie, we had a fantastic BBQ, and after the pie we went to this little party that was going on in the middle of all the gardens, which ended up being a big party with dancing and music and can-can dancers. Then I went home and went to sleep.

The next day (yesterday), I went and visited David Miller where he's working this summer in a little (but not actually little) city about a little over an hour outside of Berlin. It was really fun. We walked around a bit, went to church, covered a chalkboard in a museum on youth culture with Cal stuff, stumbled upon a fair, went on a ride, explored an abandoned building, ate bread, saw Batman. Lots of fun was had! . . . Minus the intermission they put in the Batman movie. Who puts an intermission in the middle of a action film?

Go Bears!

Then today I did next to nothing. I woke up and made Nadja and Phillipp a french toast breakfast, which was fun for me. Then I went to a museum. Then I went to a park. Then I came home and vegged for a bit. Then I made a delicious dinner.

breakfast

It's been a great day.

Pudding for Lunch

Hello! I am sitting in the Amsterdam train station, and I have some extra time. I was hoping to stop by the post office before I headed out, but it’s just far enough away and I have just enough time that it would only be maybe possible and definitely stressful to fit it in. So I’m skipping it. They have post offices in Berlin. Which means (drum roll please) . . . I get to write for a bit! Huzzah! First I’ll copy and paste a bit of what I started writing before, but then stopped writing because I wanted to go to sleep. Then I will continue on. . . This may end up quite long. Here it is:

. . .

Some Amsterdam Statistics
Number of people living in the city: 743,027
Number of bikes in the city: 600,000
Number of bikes I've seen with gears in the city: 7
Number of helmets being worn I've seen in the city: 5
So, that's interesting/unsafe. But to each their own, right?

Kat's Mom is in the pink

Thursday morning, we went to the Starshollow of Holland. Gilmore Girl fans are keepin' with me, for the rest, I'll elaborate on what I mean: they have cute festivals/parades/etc., but they're only pretending to do them for the tourists. In reality, they're doing them because the people of the town (like Taylor in GG) finds joy in putting them on. Plus the kids get school off. I know this because I'm not a tourist, I'm a traveler. Ha, just kidding. I used to say that, but now I've realized how much I like museums and some tourist stuff. I've accepted it - I'm a tourist. Anyways, I know that because Starshollow of Holland is the town that Kat grew up in, and her parents are still there. Her mom was in the little parade wearing super cute, homemade Dutch clothes. We ate delicious Dutch food and walked around the cute little Dutch town. And I petted the fluffiest bunny in the world. And it was a grand morning.

In the afternoon, I went cycling in the park near her house.

On Friday, I played tourist. I went to the famous "I amsterdam" sign that was put up for the sole purpose of attracting tourists. Obviously it went, because I went and took a tourist picture. But not before sitting and eating my lunch right next in front of the sign. I found it super amusing to watch everyone pose for their own pictures. Some people tried to take original pictures, but little did they know, someone took a picture in that exact same space 10 minutes earlier. Teenage boys would run across the top of the words, then 15 minutes later, a different group of boys would do the same thing. Photographers would be running around saying, "I can't get the whole thing." (It's a big sign). One of the most entertaining scenes was when parent picked his kid up and sat him on top of the "t", and the kid kept saying, "Dad, I don't like this. Dad, get me down. Dad, really, I don't like this, get me down," but he was saying it with a huge smile on his face so as not to ruin the picture. Another little boy curled up in the hole of the "e." Backwards. That was my favorite.

find your favorite tourist

Then I went to the Van Gogh museum.

THEN I WENT TO THE ANNE FRANK HOUSE! It was - crazy. I'm really glad I got my hands on the book a couple days ago. It was like being on a movie set. I recognized everything. I was already familiar with everything. I had to keep reminding myself that it was real. She had really been there. They had all really been there. In that house, for two year. All eight of them. The Anne from my book was actually the same person who hung those posters. The Peter who loved her actually owned that game there. It wasn't a movie, it wasn't created to replicate the house described in the book, it was the real house. It was reality.

Crazy.

At the end of the house/museum, they had this one room that I thought was absolutely brilliant. They played short, 3 minute videos about different human rights issues going on in the world that ended with a y/n question for the audience to answer with the buttons spread around the room. Most people came in for a question or two and then left, but I think I was there for almost an hour. It was such an intelligent way to say, "Now that you know a bit about persecution during WWII, please recognize that it didn't end with the end of the war. Here are some different groups that are being persecuted today in your present world. Please think critically about these questions." There was one about a rap group called Sexion d'Assaut from France that has highly homophobic lyrics, and it was brought up in the context of freedom of speech. The question was, should concert halls be allowed to not host Sexion d'Assaut because of their homophobic lyrics. (My answer: duh. Concert halls are private, they can do whatever they want. I thought it was going to be a harder question, like, "should they be allowed to have homophobic lyrics?", which gets a bit more complicated legally). There was another one about Jobbik, which is a radical Hungarian nationalist party that's known to be anti-Roma, among other things. (For those of you that don't know, the Romani people are a group you probably know as Gypsies. They're a bit like the Jews before the Jews received Israel in 1948. What I mean by that, is that they are a united people group, dispersed all over and without a country, which makes them exceptionally vulnerable to the laws of whatever country they are living in, because they don't have their own official government to protect them). The video went over a bit about the party, and then asked if they should be able to hold political demonstrations. There were other questions about groups on facebook denying the holocaust, and should they be allowed to exist, or should neo-Nazi clothing like combat boots with white laces be banned in Germany. I loved it. I sat there for a really long time, watching the videos, watching peoples' reactions, being surprised by the results. It felt good to be back in that world again. I even took notes about stuff I wanted to research more. And I thought it was so smart the way the Anne Frank museum was able to say, "Wait! Before you leave, realize that this isn't just history! This stuff is relevant to your life!" Because it really is.

From the Anne Frank museum, I went and met Kat for dinner at a restaurant she used to work at. I drank Bride's Tears. Some drink with gold shavings in it that Kat ordered for me. Felt fancy.

Then we went out to this little bar next to a windmill and were sitting next to the cannal when she said, "oh, see that houseboat there? That's my friend's. Let's call him." So we called him, and he came and joined us. After visiting his houseboat (Kat insisted I had to see the inside of a houseboat), he said, "Do you want to go out in the boat?" He wasn't referring to driving their house around, they had another smaller boat attached. So we were like, "Uh, ya."

Our skipper

So I went on a night time canal cruise of Amsterdam. Beautiful! We went briefly through the red light district and I saw women standing in windows like live manikins, beckoning men to come inside. That was something I hadn’t seen before. I would love to sit down with one of those women for coffee sometime. There was one moment when we were going under a canal bridge and the other boat members both lit up, and in my head I was like, “oh, hey Amsterdam” because it felt like a very stereotypically Amsterdamian moment. Red and green aside, the canal ride was beautiful. All the bridges were lit up. The stars were out. It was perfect.

(turns out I'm tired and want to go to sleep. Like I said, 6am tomorrow. I'll finish later. . . maybe).

(now we’re back to present time, and I’m in the train station. Continuing. . .)

On Saturday I hung out with Sjoerd, which you pronounce like “Stuart” except not quite. I met Sjoerd when he was studying abroad in Berkeley and we had a PACS class together. And guess what, he has a boat! So now I got to see Amsterdam by boat in the day time! Winner! Sjured was an excellent tour guide. I could be like, “what’s that?” and he would have all the deets. When it was made, what it was originally used for, what it’s used for now. Very impressive, that Sjoerd. We docked the boat at a little café on the water (you can do that, by the way. Just dock boats places like you would park a car) and had some coffee and talked about PACS things like the videos at the end of the Anne Frank museum, and I was so happy. I love what I studied. I love learning about it. If someone gave me a research topic, I would gladly take it and study it and write about it in my free time – even while I’m here. I saw a bumper sticker somewhere that I really loved (warning, I’m going to swear for a hot second). It said, “You say ‘nerd’ but I prefer the title ‘intellectual badass.’” Made me laugh and smile. I’m okay with being nerdy, which brings me back to my original point: loved my coffee/day with Sjoerd!

Sjoerd!

Oh! After making dinner at his apartment (that makes it sound like we both made it. We didn’t. He made it. Very impressive chef, by the way), we went out to the movie at the EYE, which is an awesome, brand new theater near Amsterdam that’s right on the water. I could have just hung out there all day. Seriously the coolest theater in the world. I should have taken a picture. Anyways, we watched this super cute movie called Moonrise Kingdom. Usually I don’t like artsy farsty movies, but this one had so many really cute moments, I could have started it over and watched it all again. Then we cycled back into the city and split up to go to our separate parties.

(P.S. Friends, you should know that I told Sjoerd he can stay at your house if he goes to California and I'm not there. But he really is awesome. You'll end up thanking me. But I just felt like you deserved a heads up).

At the party (wow, this is incredibly long), I finally got to see MAX! I met Max when I first met Kat, when they were hitch hiking through California and my dad picked them up. Max reminds me a bit of Captain Jack Sparrow, if instead of being a swashbuckling pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow was a globetrotting photographer. So that was super fun to hang out with Kat and Max for a bit. Then Kat and I rode home and went to sleep.

(whew, big breath. And continue…)

On Sunday Kat and I went to the BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHH. That says “beach.” Woohoo! I love the beach. We laid around and she taught me some yoga, then we tried to do acro-yoga where you balance on each other and do things, and we went swimming, and it was perfect. Hurray for beaches.

Then I went to a museum because they had an impressionist exhibit and I’m learning that Monet is one of my favorite artists. Then I cycled around a bit more in the park, and went home. I went to sleep early, because the next day was starting pre-6am.

We were in the car by 6am Monday morning, off to Venlo where they are holding the Floriada, which, if you don’t know, is the global horticulture show thing. It happens every ten years, and it’s a very big deal. Kat was performing, which is why I got to go (for free!). So we go in the van, went and picked up the costumes and the other performers, I fell asleep (motor narcolepsy – remember?), and then around 9:30 we were there!

(side note – I’m on the train now. Turns out that people think the Window Seat song/dance is a bit strange. Whatever.)

Kat

So we went to the Floriada, and I got to watch Kat and her friends perform. They were on meter stilts. METER! I had trouble with those 6” stilts we picked up at a garage sale somewhere. They did a great job – all three of them! So they performed and I watched for a bit and then wandered around for a bit. On their break, Kat and I sat in a clog because I’m in Holland and it just felt right. Then Kat painted my face. Then they performed again and we went home. And I slept the whole way.

That night, I went out with Max and he spoiled me with really nice prints of some of his photos (he’s a photographer, remember?). I’m so excited to get a new apartment and proudly feature them somewhere. It was great catching up with him, hearing about his latest adventures and his plans for the future. He really is a cool guy.

Then today, Tuesday, I woke up and did all the pre-leaving stuff (packing, cleaning, etc.), then I left and went to the train station and didn’t go to the post office. Now I’m on a train to Berlin, where I get to see Nadja and Phillip and Sarah and David. (David Miller, not David Melendy, btw). Quite excited.
I’m getting a bit hungry, so since I’m now caught up and you’re probably sick of reading, I’m going to finish this up and have my pudding for lunch. Technically is vla (pronounced, I recently learned, like “flah”). I think I have an apple somewhere too.

You should get a medal for reading this whole blog.

Love you all. See you soon.

Bye Holland!!!

Stilts & Water Balls

Oh my gosh. So much in my head. I guess I'll have to go chronologically, which I always feel like is kind of a cop-out,  but it's my only way to catch up.

Sunday: left David's, overnight train to Amsterdam. But you knew that. 

Monday: woke up in Amsterdam, went to Kat's house, played tourist all day. I got all the stuff done that was on my to-do list: rode a bike around, got rained on, bought new shoes (I didn't have anything weather appropriate. Dang calendar tricked me into thinking it was summer), found an English copy of Anne Frank's Diary, went to a museum, wandered around some more, ate fries, got a new sim card. A very successful day. Then I came home, re-met Kat, and we ate food.

Tuesday: Dad, you would have loved Tuesday. I slept in really late, and then Kat and I went on a long bike ride through the country. It only took a couple minutes to get out of the city, and then there were lots of canals and windmills and sheep and cows and water birds and lots and lots of flat bike trails. Flat bike trails are my favorite. I could ride forever on flat bike trails. I got distracted by looking around so much, a couple times I thought I was going to ride right into a cannal. But don't worry, I didn't. 

hoogle creation

Then we came home, changed, and went to the organic garden in the neighborhood hwere we stayed for. . . a really, really long time. I picked things and collected slugs and composted stuff and avoided the buckets of urine (not kidding) and helped make a hoogle bed. What's a hoogle bed? Oh, well I'm glad you asked. A hoogle bed is an extrodinarily labor intensive way of gardening. When she (garden master) told us that, and that we'd have to shovel a lot, in my head I was like, "Little do you know, I was just part of a team that practically shoveled a house into existence. This will be nothing." (Shout out to Thailand team!). Anyways, I was wrong - she was right. Dig off all the plant, pile lots and lots of sticks, soak cardboard, fill all the holes between the sticks with cardboard, sift dirt, mix sifted dirt with gross smelly water that has nutrients, spread mud on top of stick/cardboard pile, another layer of soaking cardboard, more sifted mud, run away when they pour urine on top of everything, more mud, more soaking card board, more sifted mud, tree on top of everything, more soaking cardboard, more sifted mud, stab holes through the top layer, plant a whole bunch of stuff. I had no idea how exhausting it would be. Or what I was getting myself into when Kat was like, "Tuesdays I go to the garden. Want to come?" And I was like, "ya, sure." Some people get real joy from that stuff. Like my dad. Dad, you would have loved it. I don't think I'm one of those people, though. It was fun, but I wans't like, "I feel so alive shoveling this dirt!" But then we picked flowers after, and I was really happy. I like flowers. (P.S. The point of a hoogle is that it absorbs and holds all the moisture, so you never have to water it).

Then (still on Tuesday) we came home. I made another "Thank you for letting me stay in your house" apple pie. This one had flowers on it, because Kat is a bit of a flower child. She's awesome. She's very go with the flow, travels where the breeze takes her, saves slugs, feels bad for the bugs the wind shield smashes, fun, stilt walking, talkative, and creative. And we had dinner sitting at her coffee table sitting on the floor in her living room. Under her cannabis plants. Welcome to the Netherlands.

apple pie. . . without a pie pan

failing at being in the ball

Wednesday (today): Woke up SO EARLY. Pre-7:00. Do you remember the last time I did that? No, me neither. Okay, that's not true. I did that in Belgium to catch a train, but that doesn't negate the fact that it's still quite early. So, woke up early, got dressed, ate, Martina picked us up, we went and picked up stuff and put it in the van, picked up more stuff and put it in the van, picked up more stuff and more people and it all went in the van, and then we drove to the northern part of Holland for a show, and I fell asleep in the car. Car arrived. Unloaded stuff. More unloading. Set up stuff. More setting up. More setting up. Got to go inside a giant plastic ball, which has been a long time dream of mine (not kidding). Got to go inside a giant plastic ball ON WATER which has been an even bigger long time dream of mine. It was AWESOME. So difficult with two people in there. I don't think I managed to stand up once. Then I helped people get ready. I body painted Kat, which was cool. (Her: "Hey, can you paint me? There's no full mirror." Me: "Uhh. . . okay. Ya."). Then I got to watch them do their stilt walking show, and I was the fog technicion. Total control over the fog machine. I felt very powerful. And short. It was really, really fun to be a part of the show. Obviously I wasn't in it, but I like the behind the scenes work. I feel oddly important walking around with my little fog machine controllers, giving the musicians the cue to start, being able to solve all the problems that other people can't when they're in costume. It's super fun. Then the show was over. Take down. Take down. Take down. Clean up. Clean up. Clean up. Pack up. Pack up. Pack up. Drive. Drive. Drive. Unload. Drive. Unload. At this point, we had unloaded everything into the first floor of the artist builing, and I was like, "if we have to bring this stuff upstairs, I'm going to cry." (It was almost 9pm by this point - long day). Then they were like, "Okay, this goes upstairs," and I started crying. Just kidding. 

(break to skype with stuart. he's pretty cool, and it's the first time in awhile we've been on the computer at the same time)

I didn't really start crying. Don't worry. Instead, I brought lots of stuff upstairs. Then we got back in the car. Then we came home. Then we ate apple pie and grilled cheese sandwiches. 

Oh my gosh, I'm exhausted. I almost said, "I don't know why I'm so tired," but that would be a dumb thing to say. I'm exhausted because I had a big day. 

There was SO MUCH MORE that I wanted to write for you. Stuff about how cool their act was, what Amsterdam/the Netherlands is like in general (Santa Cruz + Berkeley on steroiods, amplified to the degree of a whole country), about how I got free ice cream (ftw!), and other clearly important things. But, alas, those will have to wait. Ha, I say that, but then I rarely come back to stuff like that. Because then I move on. Tomorrow we're going to a festival thing with cloggs in the morning and in the evening a dance party thing where Kat is a butterfly. 

please notice my free ice cream

I'm Magical

I love Amsterdam. It's funny how you can tell right away. Maybe it's like a self fulfilling prophesy: I decide that I will or won't like somewhere, and then everything else serves to support my initial decision. . . but I like to think that I have great instincts.

So I left Verscio yesterday morning, and then I took an the overnight bus to Amsterdam, which was a cool experience. Reminiscent of motorhome trips or semester at sea, which are both up there in my "favorite memory" categories. Except in the overnight train, you just get a tiny little bed for you and all your stuff. I was on the top-top bunk (3 high), so I had a little cubby to slide my backpack into. The people below me were so confusing, though. They folded the middle bunk down so it was like a couch, but then they both slept sitting on it. I would have taken a picture for you, but my camera wasn't working. (And yes, it was the lack of a working camera, not the idea of personal privacy, that kept me from taking a picture.) I wanted to be like, "umm, did you know that you paid for a bed? Two, actually. You can sleep laying down, if you want to. They give you blankets and everything." But instead I went to sleep.


And woke up in Amsterdam! I knew I liked it when I was riding in. And then I knew I liked it even more when I got off the train and the seats had travel quotes in different languages. Some of them I recognized ("There's no surer way to know if you like someone than to travel with them." -Mark Twain), others I didn't know, but I liked. I would have taken a picture for you, but my camera wasn't working, remember? Then I took the bus to Kat's house, and when I got off the bus, I had no idea where I was or which was to walk. So I just stood there for a second looking at the map I had drawn in my notebook, and realized that I wasn't on it. Then someone stopped for me. I didn't even have to ask them for help! They just helped me all by themselves. They said, "what are you looking for?" And I told them, and they pointed me in the right direction. I felt like I was in Japan! (People were very helpful to me there as well). 

Then I arrived at Kat's house. (Kat = one of two really, really cool hitchhikers my dad picked up a couple years ago that stayed at our house for a bit.) Her house is awesome. Fun and colorful, with a bookshelf made out of a boat stacked full with travel books, stickers from the different places around the world she's been, cool paintings and masks, a bean bag chair, all around awesomeness. So I did a couple important things - shower, brush teeth, charged camera, etc. When my camera was charged and still not working, I used Kat's computer to look for a camera repair shop (my computer wasn't connecting to the internet). I couldn't find any that were open, so I tried to see if I could fix it on my own. It made a pretty intense grinding sound when I tried to make it focus, so I was skeptical. But then I tried blowing on it, and now it works! Conclusion: I'm magical.


So to test my powers, I tried again connecting to the internet on my own computer, and this time it worked! Lila's magical properties: confirmed. 


Now I'm going to look up cool stuff to do, jump on the bike that Kat left me, and go exploring.


Oh, change of plans. My internet actually isn't working. So I won't be looking stuff up. Skip right to: jump on the bike and go exploring.


Ugh, this is like if you're talking to someone on the phone and then they fall asleep, so then you just end up talking to yourself. And it's a little embarrassing.


Oh! Internet is back! You're awake! I'm not alone!


Shoot, internet down.

I feel like my emotions are being manipulated. Okay, I'm going to go. Maybe I'll have more luck when I get back.

Bye! (bye bye bye <-- That was it echoing in the darkness, because I'm clearly talking to nobody).

Secretly Crazy

I feel like blogging into a word document is like a secret way of talking to myself. I guess some might compare it to journaling, but I consider journaling thinking on paper. It's not really meant to be received. Talking and blogging are both meant to be received. But when I blog into a word document, it's not. I'm talking to myself.

Yet, alas, here I am. In the mall under the Zurich train station, sitting on my backpack, blogging to myself. Talking to myself. Se la vie. (Probably spelled incorrectly, but let's let that one slide).

When I pulled my computer out of my backpack, I thought, "wow, it feels like my backpack has gotten smaller. Did that really happen just from ditching two books at David's house." Then I realized it came from ditching the two books and my towel and my bathing suit at David's house. So, that's a bummer. At least I'm headed north.

And it'll free up space to buy new shoes.

I don't really have any exciting news for you all. I'm headed to Amsterdam on an overnight train and will be there tomorrow morning.

. . . now I'm wondering what else I forgot. But I have my train pass, passport, and credit card. So I guess everything else is replaceable. Bothersome, but replaceable. So I shouldn't worry about it.

Anyways, I think I just wanted to say hi.

And I just realized I have internet!

Woot! Now typing directly into the blog like a non-crazy person. FTW!

. . . and now I'm out of things to say.

Oh! Alison (met her through David) and I made a song/dance to welcome David home one day. I can't upload it now, because it'll take too much time and my internet is limited. But it definitely gives you something to look forward to!

I would write more, but I think it's about time for me to go find my train. Plus all my thoughts are more journal worthy than blog worthy. Pretty sure this is my most useless blog to date, so sorry about that. I promise they might be better in the future.

Bye!

Calcium Fortified

(wrote yesterday. posting now.)

I'm in David's kitchen right now, writing on a word document because there's no wi-fi. I'm watching at the calcium fortified apple pie bakes in the oven. Wait? What? Calcium fortified?

Yep.

Turns out, a jar of calcium looks deceptively like a jar of flour.

So. . . we'll see how that goes.

So I'm here in Verscio! It's fun to see everyone again. It's so weird, I feel like I was just with them, saying, "Bye! Good luck on your final piece!" Then a month later - bam! They're done with their final pieces. Last time I saw them, they didn't even know what they were going to do, and now each of them have created a 15 minute piece representing the culmination of the work and time a Teatro Dimitri. To me it seems like they made them overnight. David said he had a much different perspective.

at the hospital

Speaking of David, I need to learn to drive stick shift. Sorry, confusing jump. Last night David hit his head and was bleeding. Right above the eye, like when people get in a fight in a movie and they have that one wound in the corner just above the eye that slowly drips blood until the protagonist's woman gingerly bandages it. But that didn't happen. Instead, we went to the hospital to see if he needed stitches (he didn't. He's totally fine. Yay David!). But to GET to the hospital, someone needed to drive. I was completely useless because we're in Europe and there are no automatic cars. Point being: I need to learn to drive stick in case I need to ever drive someone to the hospital and there's no one else around to do it. Or - and this is a scenario I've thought of before - if I'm being chased/attacked and I need to jump into someone's car to get away, and the only ones around are stick.

I'd be screwed.

So, yes, I will be learning to drive stick shift when I get home. . . but my car is automatic. Any volunteers willing to let me learn on their car?

In other news. . . I don't really have an "in other news." I think that's all my news. There are a couple things I could talk about, but nothing super exciting or adventurous. . .

I was sitting here for a minute trying to figure out what to do, when I realized that what I really, really want to do deep down inside is make coffee. So I'm going to do that. And shower. Then take the pie out. Then go watch the final pieces of David & his friends again. For 5 hours.

from David's piece

 Yep, yep. Life is good.

Love you all.

(a bit later)

Showered. Coffee is brewing. I just realized the pie was cooking at a much too low temperature, so I turned it up. . . I really will be interested to see how this pie turns out. Maybe I've stumbled onto something. . . or maybe it'll be gross. I guess we'll see.

So now until I'm just kind of twiddling my thumbs until it looks like I can take the pie out of the oven. Drinking Italian coffee, which I'm sure I'll be reminded about it's strength in a bit, and eating an apple.

Hannah with a heart-shaped stop light in BCN

Oh! Questions for you:

1) A lot of the cool people I've met that blog have fitting urls. For example, Hannah Hart (Hart is her middle name) has www.hart-beat.com , so that's cool. Check it out if you get the chance! She's the expert on all things romantic. She's also going to have a shop in NY someday, so maybe if you can tell her that you've been a loyal reader for years, she'll give you a discount. But here's the question: do you have any ideas for a cleaver url for me?

2) Shoot dang. Forgot the second question.

3) The pie looks done! Yay. Perfect timing. K, bye!

(later)

It's later! And this is me remembering how strong Italian coffee is. Woooooooo!

The pie turned out okay. People liked it, and I feel like my bones are stronger, too, so that's good. I wish I could stay up and write emails to you all, but alas, I have no internet, remember?

Speaking of remembering, I just remembered that I'm reading an excellent book right now. So I think I'll go brush my teeth and read that. (Everyone else is brushing their teeth and going to sleep. They didn't have an American sized coffee cup of Italian espresso.)

Night all. Sleep well. Chooz. (That's not how you actually spell it. I'll ask David how to spell it. He says it's Swiss-German, so I can spell it however I want. No rules.)

Okay, cool.

Chooz!

Blades

Hey! Guess what I did today! You'll never guess. Okay, I'll tell you. I went ROLLERBLADING! (which I learned just now is one word).

You: You mean like in a padded room wearing lots of protective gear?
Me: No! Outside! In the open!
You: What?! No. Lila, don't you know that's for coordinated people?
Me: I know! I was just as surprised as you are!

So, ya. Today I went rollerblading. Outside. It was great fun. I learned very quickly, though, that I had absolutely no idea how to brake on roller blades (what? now spell check is telling me it's two words. . . whatever). So that was a little problematic. The only times I have roller bladed before were quite a long time ago and I was just going in circles at the Santa Cruz Roller Rink. I stopped by running into a wall, which proves difficult when you're outside with no walls.

So I had to learn to stop. Which I did! Kinda. Mostly. Good enough. But not super good. At first I realized that to slow down, I was putting my toes together like you do in skiing. Hint: that doesn't work. Duh.

But eventually, I got it! At least well enough to feel mostly safe and like I wasn't going to accidentally roll myself into the lake or run over a small child. So that was great fun. I roller bladed down by the lake and around the town a bit. There was one hill that I was like, "screw that" because at the end of the slope, it had nothing for me to run into but the lake.Or fall and die/break something. So I took off my skates and walked. Dad would have been proud (avoid the big disaster!), Stuart, not so much. Whatever. I went up it later, so that still counts.

So, ya. Today was super fun. I roller bladed for quite awhile. I only came back because a) I was hungry and food is expensive here, and b) I was getting sunburned, which I usually don't mind too much, but not with awkward tank top and back pack burn lines.

Plus I think this may be my last blog entry for awhile. I've been super lucky to have wi-fi in residence for the past couple days, but I don't know when the next time I'll have that is.

So...

I want to say a major THANK YOU to my excellent hosts Lili and Ludo. I know that Lili said she'd stop reading this, but I'm hoping that she secretly still does so that she'll see this. Lili and Ludo have been really, really awesome hosts. They're just awesome in general. Their that top tier of normal people. You know, first tier holds the Mother Teresas, Nelson Mandellas, MLK Jrs, Gandhis of the world, then the second tier has the best people that maybe haven't saved a whole country. The Kelly Kurtenbachs, Kim & Blake Carpenters, Jazmin Aguileras of the world. Lili & Ludo are in that tier.

Last night we went to fondu! It was super delicious. On the way there, we made Ludo stop the car so we could take pictures with the field of sunflowers we passed by. . . We actually made him turn around and then stop the car. He's a very gracious host. Then we went to fondu! But first at the fondu place, we went on a little walk up the the top of the canyon, and Lili took a "I'm king of the world!" picture for me. It looks like I'm powerful and mysterious. I like it. Then delicious, cheesy, thick, yummy fondu! On the way home, he stopped the car to touch a cow. 

Then we came home and watched Zombieland and ate apple pie. The apple pie didn't turn out too bad. I think I'll made it again for the rest of my hosts. Bring them a little bit of America. Maybe by the time I come back, I'll be an expert apple pie maker, like my dad. 

In other news, I think I want to get a pet rabbit. They're awesome. Depending on where I live next year, this is a serious possibility. . . I may start with a fish, though. Just to make sure I can handle it.


Here's me looking powerful & mysterious:

Neuchatel Makes Me Think of Chocolate

I don't know why Neuchatel makes me think of chocolate, but it does. Not the town, the name. Is there a chocolate called Neuchatel? 10 points to whoever can help me figure out why Neuchatel makes me think of chocolate.

In other news (well, I guess it's not super other. It's actually rather closely related), I love Neuchatel. It's cute and small and has a lovely lake. I was expecting to take day trips, but I don't really see that happening any more. There's just no point. Why would I pay money to leave somewhere I'm enjoying?

Lili and Ludo (her boyfriend) are really excellent hosts. I know Lili said she was going to stop reading the blog so that I could write whatever I wanted about them, but I'm still going to write about how wonderful they are, because it's the truth. Ludo is Canadian (from Quebec. Apparently, according to Lili, there's quite a distinction from people from Quebec and people from normal Canada. "Normal" isn't the right word there, but hopefully you understand) and Lili is French. They met each other when Lili was in Montreal, and I met Lili in a theater class at Cal two years ago. Now we're all in Switzerland. It's funny how small the world feels sometimes.

Anyways, they're both great. They have two bunnies that they love: Pumpernickle & Kartoffel. I had no idea that rabbits were the coolest pets in the world. They're clean and cute and run (well, hop. They're rabbits) around the apartment. They're trained to use a litter box, and Lili taught them tricks. It's awesome. I want a rabbit.

Last night Ludo cooked a delicious dinner. Salad with duck something (neck? I think that's what Lili said) and cheese and bread and nuts and just all around delicious. Seriously, they've been great hosts. I have a whole room to myself! The last time that happened I was in Dado's room (ha! Who is now in my room in California. Funny.).

Anyways, yesterday I spent most my time down at the lake. Reading, writing, swimming, doing nothing. Then last night we had the aforementioned delicious dinner and then went on a drive through the country side.

Then today I did some more nothing. Slept in late, walked to the train station to get train stuff figured out, walked to the post office, walked down to the lake, more reading, writing, and nothing. Took some pictures of swans. (They're everywhere!). Then it started to rain a bit, so I started meandering back. Stopped by Coop (i.e. Safeway) to pick up some food to make my wonderful hosts a dish from my motherland. Do you know what's hard? Picking out spices when you can't read OR smell them.

Then I came home and made said dish (while listening to One Direction. Don't judge). Apple pie. I don't really know how it turned out. . . I guess we'll see. It could be good, or it could be really not good. Instead of using measurements, it was more just, "umm, some of this and a little of this and some of this." So, it could very easily go either way.

You can't really tell from the picture, but the top is made out of hearts and stars. Hearts 'cause I'm a girl. Stars 'cause I'm American. Also, it's not as burnt as it looks. Or maybe it is. But in my defense, I only cooked it for 35 minutes, when it's supposed to cook 40-50. So not my fault.

Now it's thunder & lightening (sp??) outside, and I'm warm and cozy inside. I think I'll eat some bread and cheese.

Eating bread and cheese.

Cheese is one thing America needs to get better at. . . or maybe I just never knew that we have good cheese because I've just been eating cheddar for 22 years. Do we have good cheese?

Tonight we were going to do 2 out of these 3 things: fondu (even though it's summer and it's a winter thing to do/eat. Like baking Christmas cookies in July), go to the movie festival, or go hiking in the canyon. With the weather, I guess the decision was made for us. Which is nice, because decisions can be tricky.

Okay, I'm going to go reply to some emails, drink some water, and do other normal things. Today has been a very normal day. I keep smiling every time I remember I'm in Switzerland.

Free Internet

(I wrote this earlier today. Now I'm copy & pasting it for you)

I was planning to sleep on this train, but then I saw that it had free internet. But THEN it turned out that  it's free interenet after you pay. Ya, riddle me that. And I don't want to pay for internet, but I got all in the mood to write to you guys, so here I am - on a word document. Again. I'll copy and paste it later.

I was hoping to feel all better this morning, but that's unfortunately not the case. I bought another liter of oj. This one was 4.95 euros. Still totally worth it.

I'm on a train to Switzerland. One of 4. Some people don't like big travel days, but I do. Usually. If there are a million connections and little half hour train rides, it can be annoying. But a couple long train rides, I find that pretty pleasant. I like seeing everything. And it's nice to just sit without feeling like I should be out doing stuff.

It's raining outside. It looks. . . dreary. But the kind of dreary that would be quite pleasant if you were inside with a book and some tea. I'm hoping the rain will let up between 17:32-18:00 (when I have to walk outside), but other than that, it can rain as much as it wants.

It's funny this is summer.

No more hostels for a month (ish), so that's exciting. Switzerland with Lili, Switzerland with David, Amsterdam with Kat, Berlin with Nadja, Poland with Marta (may or may not need a hostel, tbd), Czech (hostel needed), Austria (hostel needed), California (no hostel needed).

Quite exciting.

I don't know what else to tell you. Umm. . . went to Bruges yesterday. Rented a bike and rode it around. Saw some windmills. The whole town looks like it's frozen in medieval times.

Okay, I'm ready to be done writing. Who knows, maybe I'll even fall asleep. Night/bye.

(much later)

It’s a couple hours later, and I’m sitting in the cockpit of the train. Do trains even have cockpits? I guess that’s a rater silly question. They must. I’m in one.

Or at least right near one. I’m at the front of the train, and I can see where the conductor would be if, in fact, we had a conductor instead of just being hooked to another train nose-to-nose. I wonder if the other train has a conductor, or if it’s all automated?

I think I’m in Germany, but I’m not quite sure. I’m on my way to Switzerland. I think I mentioned that earlier. It’s really beautiful outside. No longer rainy. Just big, white fluffy clouds and blue skies. I have a great view from here in the cockpit. PLUS there are only 10 seats. No crying babies. At first when I got in here, I thought I had stumbled into first class. But the number on the door said 2, so I figured I would just stay until they came around, checked tickets, and kicked me out. But that didn’t happen! So I get to chill here n the cockpit for another hour.

This is awesome.

And just think, if my original train plan had worked without delays or missed connections, I wouldn’t be having this awesome ride. Funny how things have a way of working out for the best.

Love you. 

(Now we're in current time as I'm posting this)

The day/night ended up being really, really great. I'm tired and it's late, so I'm not quite sure how much I'll write, but I'll go until I can't do anymore. Okay?

My friend Aur Elie (Lili) from Cal picked me up at the train station in Neuchatel, Switzerland. Technically, the "a" is wearing a little hat thing, but I don't know how to do that. It's a really adorable town. She said that all Switzerland towns are the same: cute old town, big lake, Alps in the background. All beautiful, but all the same. Definitely nothing to complain about. 

So when we met up, one of the first things she said was, "I hope it's okay, but we were thinking of going out on the boat." This after I had been drooling at the sight of the lake the whole way in, trying to figure out how I could bribe someone to take me out, or make friends with someone at the harbor or something. It was perfect! Just what I needed after a day of trains.

So we (Lili, her boyfriend, her friend, and I) went out on the lake, and it felt fresh and cool and breezy and fun. I think tomorrow I will walk down and go swimming. It really was quite perfect. When the sun started to set, we went back to the harbor and had a delicious dinner in the . . . boat kitchen. Crap, I was going to impress you with my boat lingo, but I forgot it. GALLEY! The galley! Haha! Got it. It was delicious.

Then when we were driving back from the harbor, we stopped for McFlurrys and ate them next to a castle.

Life is good. 

One thing that makes me laugh, though, is that Lili reads the blog (hi Lili!). It's funny writing about people and knowing they're going to read it. Or hanging out with people and having them think I'm going to write about it later, that happened with Fran too. She kept saying, "You're going to put this on your blog, aren't you?" (Hi Fran!). I feel like that must be how it's like to date Taylor Swift. Just wondering, "I wonder how this is going to sound in a song." I wonder if the whole time Taylor Swift is dating someone, she's constantly writing the song. Or maybe she just waits 'till the end when it all goes to crap. . . I don't know. I'd be interested to ask her. . . Actually, that might be rude, so I'd be interested to have someone else ask her, so I could learn the answer without being the rude one. Anyways, the point being, it's funny having overlap between the people I travel and stay with and the people that read my blog. That never happened when they didn't speak English (i.e. Central/South America). So. . . yep. To all of you that I'm traveling/hang out/staying with, if you feel like I leave something important out, let me know. And maybe I'll add it.

Okay, sleep for me. Love you all. 

Sicko

You know you're sick when. . .

• You dream about phlegm.
• In the middle of the night, you wake up shivering and go around collecting your roommates blankets that they discarded because they're all sweating. And you use them.
• Your first thought when you wake up at 11:30am is "only 8 more hours and I get to go to sleep." 
• You pay 4.70 euro for a big thing of fresh squeezed orange juice, and can't possibly think of a better way to spend that money.

Yep, so there's that. I can't decide what to do today. Staying here sounds unappealing, but so does going somewhere else. I think I'll take a train to Bruges and wander around there for a bit, and then come back and go to sleep. Yep, that sounds like a good plan.

Being safe. I'll be healthy by tomorrow. Love you all. 

Do's & Don't's of Taking a Picture for a Fellow Tourist

Let's be honest for a second - I don't know anything about photography. I've never taken a class. I've never had instructions. I don't know anything about shutter speed or any of the numbers that you look at when you buy a camera, except for how many stars it has. But as a tourist, I feel like I DO know a couple things about how to take a picture for a fellow tourist. So here we go.

The Do's & Don't's of Taking a Picture for a Fellow Tourist
1. DO consider what you're trying to take a picture of. DO NOT have a statue coming out of someone's head.

2. DO try and make the person look pretty. DO NOT take the picture from unnecessarily low and unflattering angles. Nobody will like you. 

3. DO notice what's going on in the background. DO NOT take a picture when there's a tourist with a bright blue t-shirt in the frame.

3. DO try and take a half way decent photo. DO NOT hand the camera back with a crap picture and say, "I think it's good."

4. DO take multiple pictures so they can have options. DO NOT just take only one where it looks like they're awkwardly flexing because their hands on on their backpack strings.

5. DO try and get the person in the photo. DO NOT obstruct their head with a giant thing of nutella.

Napoleon

Napole-dead

Complete Thoughts/Peace

7/3/2012 20:24

Okay, I'm back in my sink hole of a hostel that has a lock, bright colors, a roof, and not much else going for it. I'm writing on a word document, and later I'll use a flash drive to move this and whatever photos I decide to give you over to their computers so that I can upload this for you. Or maybe I'll just go to McDonald's in the morning. . . We'll see.

Anyways, I think I had just finished talking about the war museum. I'd check to make sure, but I don't have internet. So let's just assume that's where I left off. More on-and-off with the bus. Which means get off, walk around for an hour or two, get on, ride ten minutes, repeat. I went to the Arch du (de? di? ??) Triumph again, because I wanted to walk through it triumphantly. But then I learned that you could go UP it. So I did. Climbed some stairs. Quite a lot of stairs. But it was super cool. It's right in the middle of the city, int he center of a round-about that has twelve main streets feeding into it. The only round about in France where the cars entering the circle have the right away. Insurance companies don't even deal with it. Any accidents that happen in that circle, they split 50/50. It's impossible to figure out whose fault it was.

When I got on the bus again, I met some guys that seemed cool. Then I learned that HIS housemate is dating MY housemate by in Berkeley. Well, I actually don't know if they're still dating. So that's potentially awkward. Woops. Whatever. Dated? Anyways, super small wold. I rode to on-off bus with them to the Eiffle Tower. They decided to go up it, but I wanted to wait to go up with Fran. So we parted. But I'm continuously amazed with how small the world is. Cal is everywhere. Go Bears.

Then I went exploring, and I was potentially going to meet up with the guys again that night but our only way to communicate was via internet, which you well know, I only have at McDonald's. So I was going to go home and grab my comptuer and go to Mickey D's. BUT, on my way home, I took the wrong metro and ended up at Notre Dame. Not a bad mistake. So I got out to see if it was still opened. It wasn't, BUT there WAS a concert going on that night! So I got in line and WATCHED A CONCERT IN NOTRE DAME! Feelin' pretty cool. Not gunna lie.

The concert was great. 4 singers, 4 musicians. Oh my gosh. I've never heard anything like it before. It was. . . I have no idea how to describe it. You know (uhh, sorry, only some of you will know this refernce, I realize) in the Bible where there's that scene when that one guy goes to heaven and there are the angels all around singing? I always thought that was kinda weird, and I couldn't picture what their voices might sound like. I can now! I think it was especially cool because I didn't know what they were saying. So it was just pretty noises that I knew meant something. Really, really pretty noises. I can't describe it. Super cool. I considered taking a video, but then I didn't because I knew it wouldn't be nearly as good as the real thing. So just imagine it. Really pretty.

AND while I was there, I met my new friend E-Han. I'm making up the spelling of her name. Her English name is Angela, but she prefers her Tiwanese name E-Han. She's AWESOME. We ended up going to dinner after and she had avocado for the first time, and I had french onion soup (which they just call onion soup here), and we talked about boys and other girl things and it was great. So good to have a girl night! Then I walked her home and took the metro back and went to sleep.

Which brings us to. . .

TODAY:

Today, I went to the lines. Crap, sorry, fingers slipped. I mean the crowds. Dang it, did it again. What I meant to say is that I went to the money hole. Wow, why do I keep doing that? Clearly I mean the tourist trap. Ugghh, so frustrating. Let me go slowly now: V-E-R-S-A-I-L-L-E-S. Versailles. I went to Versailles.

There we go.

It was pretty. Big. Gold. Grand. Fancy.

I wouldn't recommend it.

I was a little disappointed. Not going to lie. The reason why I went was because of the room of mirrors.

(Now it's 7/5/2012 at 12:22. I am in the train station waiting for my train to Brussles. I'm really excited, because I think that between my train rides and waiting for my train rides, I should be able to catch up on my Paris blog. Especially since I don't have internet. And I don't have the stress/privilege of having a million other things to do. I really have three options of what I can do: 1) read, 2) journal, 3) blog. Well, blog in a word document. I read the whole time standing in line for my reservation/ticket, and that was a long line. I journaled a lot at Versailles, which I'll talk about in a sec, and so I get to BLOG! Yay! Love blogging. Anyways. . .)

Yes, the room of mirrors. A disappointment. I should have google image-d it so I'd know what to expect, because let me describe what I was expecting: a room of mirrors. Like a fun house. Mirrors from floor to cieleing, and a maze that you have to walk through. But it'd be classy. No warped mirrors or anything. But lots and lots of mirrors. NOPE. It's a hall. One side has windows, the other side has old mirrors, and the top has some fancy chandeliers. Big deal.

BUT it did have a big piece of art in it. There's a whole bunch of modern art on display all throughout Versailles, which is a little odd if you ask me. The art in the hall of mirrors was a giant pair of heels made out of shiny pots and lids. It was titled "women" and ment to imply the purpose of a woman is to look attractive and cook food. I mean, it's a valid point. Women are very good at both those things. Good job women! Lookin' pretty in the kitchen like you're supposed to!

Oh my gosh, kidding. It was made to explore the contrast between women's roles. One as being domestic (thus the pots and lids) and the other of being a working woman of power (thus the power pumps). It was actually titled "Marlyn" after Marlyn Monroe. So, that was interesting.

There was some other interesting art in the house too. I got to see Lady Gaga's helicopter and this weird hair spike wood thing, that actually isn't modern art but I have no idea what the heck it is.

And, oh! There was the story of Captain Hook told through a series of pictures, which I thought was cool. It was the story of how he turned into Captain Hook, pre-Peter Pan. I know that everyone things that his arm got eaten by a crocodile,  but that's just a myth. This is the real story:

Captain Hook was originally named Billy. He lived with his parents in a very nice home, enjoyed fancy clothing and big hair, and dreamed of being on the sea. He even had pictures of ships up in his bedroom.

But one day, little Billy's parents' house was robbed. Billy didn't know what to do, so he just stood there saying, "Look at what's going on! This isn't right. This isn't right at all."

But Billy was a diplomat. So he said, "Hey, let's play for it." So they played for it the way you play for anything: with goakey races. Goakey races are races where a monkey rides on the back of a goat. You bet on your favorite pair, and spoils go to the victor. What the robbers didn't know, however, is that Billy had been giving his favorite goakey pair special goakey food to make them the best goakey racers. Obviously, they won. How could they not?

notice hand bottom right

So Billy won, but when the robbers found out about his wiley ways, they were furious. Even though they were, you know, robbers, and it was orginally, you know, Billy's stuff, they were still super pissed. They got into a scruffle, to say the least. , Barthalamus, one of the robbers, waved his sword wildly in effort to prove his masculinity. In the process, he cut off Billy's hand, but the rest of Billy got away.

Billy fled on horseback. A large horse, named Diablo-The-Magnificent, which is really only a shadow of the great Diablo that now walks (or trots) this earth. (Shout out to Big-D!! What what!!). It may look like Billy is holding something in his right hand, but don't be fooled. Billy doesn't have a right hand. Diablo is a unicorn.

Because Diablo was a unicorn, he, of course, knew the way to Never Never Land, where he adopted the name Captain Hook, played often with Peter Pan, and got to fulfill his long time dream of being a man of the sea.

The End!

Wait, what? Those weren't pictures of Captain  Hook? What do you mean they were Louis XIV? Gosh, there should be a sign or something. Huh. . .Sorry about that.

But the gardens there were lovely. I had to que up again for those, but it was worth it. I walked around a bit. Not as much as I would of had I not been exhausted from all the lining up and such earlier, but what I saw was quite lovely. And then I left. I don't plan on going back to Versailles again. If I do go back, I'll only go to the gardens, and I'll go with a friend so we can rent a boat.

After that, I was super beat. Like I would have slept in the gardens had they remembered to put benches in. (Seriously, no benches. What the heck, landscapers?). So I left, and I was headed to the trainstation but I saw a pharmacy (normal drug store) down the road, so I went there becasue I needed to. I was really tired and my feet hurt, so on the way back - I got my hair cut! Seems logical, right? So that was quite fun, and it gave me another gust of energy. As I left and walked back to the train station, I was singing the song you sing when you just got your hair cut (in case you're not familiar with it, it goes like this: "Got my hair cut. Got my hair cut." etc.). 

And my new energy expired by about the time I got to the train.

So I rode the train home. And then. . .

crap. I forgot. See! This is why I blog. Otherwise, I lose it all.

I forget most of what happened the rest of the day, so it must not have been that important. Museums, probably. That night, I ended up with a hodgepodge group of people from my hostel. 2 San Diego kids, 2 Finland girls, 1 Denmark intellectual. We went and sat on the lawn in front of the Eiffle Tower. It was lovely. Then I went home and slept.

NEXT DAY:

(wow, sorry, this is quite long, isn't it?)

The next day, I tried to go to the catacombs again, but the line was two hours and I was all lined out from Versailles, so I was like "heck no" and went to the acquarium for free, where I wasn't eaten by a shark. So that, you know, good.

Then I met up with FRAN! My friend from Cal who is also traveling through Europe for the summer. She, her friend Jeanne, and I all had a picnic lunch in front of the Eiffle Tower, which was something I really, really wanted to do. Then Fran and I climbed it (what what!). Something like 1,453,532 stairs or something. To be exact. Then we went to a museum, which was really, really cool with Fran because she KNOWS STUFF! It added so much depth to paintings that before I'd just be like, "hmm, that's pretty." or "Oh, that's nice." I learned so much in one afternoon. I might even want to take an art history course. It was. . . awesome. I really, really enjoyed it. It was an enriching experience, and a blast too,because Fran is just wonderful.

THEN we met up with Jeanne again, and we all went out for burgers & fries to celebrate America. Then we went to the Eiffle Tower, took some failed jumping pictures (one that kinda worked, but looks a little scandalus, but it's NOT because I'm wearing shorts), then went down to the lawn to watch it get dark, see the lights turn on, and then watch the light show. I mean, it's no fireworks, but what are you going to do? Just kidding. It was lovely.  Then it started raining, as if to say, "Okay, I'm all done. Party's over." It was a perfect ending.

Then this morning I packed up and left.

Paris is a lovely city. There are things in it that are very pretty. But I don't know if/when I'll be back. I would say I enjoyed my time there, but I wouldn't say I loved the city. This probably had a lot of influencing factors: my hostel was crap, I can't speak the language, etc.  But I still don't think it's the place for me.

It's funny how that is. Some places just fit, and others don't. Kind of like clothes. It can be a lovely dress, and can honestly say, "yes, that's a very pretty dress," but that doens't mean I want to buy it. If it doesn't fit, it doesn't fit. It doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or with the dress, it's just not a match. I think that's me and Paris. I was definitely ready to go when I left this mornng.

Wow, I'm tired. I wasn't expecting to be this tired.

Okay, I think that's everything. You know everything I know. Now I'm going to Brussles, which is in Belgium which is where they have chocolate and waffles. So that's good. Long train ride. Too long for such a short distance, but I have to transfer because I got my ticket so late. Whatever. Such is life. I'm traveling through Europe. Complaints just sound stupid in comparison to how great this is.

Blah, I was going to write about so much other stuff. Including, but not limited to:

- The do's and don't's of taking a picture for someone else

- The do's and don't's of hostel etiquete

- How do you really spell don't's because there seems to be a lot of apostraphes?

- The do's and dont's of being a non-obnoxious-oblivious-dumb traveler

But now I don't want to bore you with those things. Maybe I'll bore you with them later. But for now, I'm tired. Let me know if there are any in particular you'd like me to bore you with. Or anything else you want me to talk about, really.

Also, sorry I've been so bad at email. I'll hopefully be better in the future. Maybe. Hopefully. Especially when I finally have internet. I hope it's raining when I get to Brussles (actually I hope it starts raining right AFTER I get to Brussles and am safely and warmly inside my hostel), because then I'll have an excellent reason to not do anything. And that sounds just about perfect.

Love you all.

(Now it's 19:51 and I'm at my hostel in Brussles. I really like Brussles. It's funny how you can tell immediately. Also, I should remember to be careful what I wish for. It DID start raining. And it DID start raining after I was safely and warmly inside my hostel. But it was after I had been inside my hostel, and then went OUT again to get food. Then it started raining. I walked home in the rain. In Toms. I thought we had learned this lesson, but apparently not. I think tomorrow, I will go shoe shopping. Yay. And for now, I am safe and warm in my hostel, and very much at peace.)

(Also, does the bad quality of the pictures bother you? It makes it much easier for me, but let me know. Maybe I can do a middle ground thing).

(This was really long. Sorry!!!)