B-Land

Berlin, Germany

Still in Luxembourg, waiting for our train to Berlin!

At the Kohn, Germany train station

Looking through the Berlin wall from the east

Veggie market

3 carrots, 1 apple, chunk of ginger, and half an orange!

East Side Gallery

My favorite mural: Amnesty International

Olympic Stadium

Streets of Berlin

In front of the Parliament building

White long sleeve thermal. Chestnut colored corduroy pants. Mahogany colored leather shoes with elastic straps instead of shoe laces. Watch with brown leather straps and silver plate watch. Chiseled cheekbones. Slightly tan and cleanly shaved. Half-rimmed black D&G glasses. Brown hair with piercing, richly brown eyes. Reading the German newspaper and twiddling his Mont Blanc pen with his right hand. No ring on his left.

Decided against reading Time Traveler's Wife for a while and entertained the idea of having a European lover for my train ride to Berlin. Brooke and I switched trains in Cologne, Germany and found ourselves two seats for our long ride to Berlin. As I struggled get situated in my seat (clearly made for midgets), I accidentally whacked someone in the face with my boulder of a backpack. Oops. I turned around to apologize...only to see this beautiful man smiling at me and saying 'no no no problem' in a heavy German accent. Hello future father of my mixed, beautiful children. Who are you and where have you been my entire life? He looked like he was about 27, graduate student. Future lawyer, perhaps? All I knew was that I was sitting in the aisle seat and so was he. I hadn't arrived in Berlin but I knew this weekend was off to a good start.

I must sound like such a creep describing this man. But in Luxembourg, there is no need to look around because all the men have dirty, greased hair with over-sized jeans and tight graphic t-shirts...not to mention they smell like cheap cologne. Simply put—they’re not aesthetically pleasing. So when you see a man at a train station who is looking absolutely divine, it is only necessary that you take it all in, right? It's like finding a four-leafed clover... you have to pick it when you see it because you never know if you'll ever find another one.

So Brooke and I arrive in B-land. Her friend Nina drives us to her house in her silver Golf Volkswagon through the streets of Berlin. We arrive in the Turkish district where her apartment was located and I am pretty sure I have never seen so many döner (kebab) shops in my entire life. Granted, they’re around two euro and taste a thousand times better than the ones in Luxembourg but you still feel like you’re about to have a heart attack with every bite you take.

Unload our things at her apartment. Look at ourselves in the mirror and damn do I look good. No. I’m kidding. It was exactly like after my train ride to Amsterdam…a mess. But I was far too tired to care because of my busy week of exams/papers/projects that I put my tennis shoes back on and headed out to discotech-it up. So Nina had a phone call earlier in the night telling her that there was this raging party that night and her friend was hosting so of course it wasn’t even a question—we were finding ourselves some local Germs for the night.

Nina, Brooke, and I set off in a brisk walk towards the dark streets Berlin where men in blonde dreadlocks were peeing Nile rivers in the middle of the street. So bizarre. By the way, the Caucasian dreadlock population inBerlin is surprisingly high…and I find it so incredibly awkward. It’s like looking at Michael Jackson—something just isn’t right.

There is this rowdy group of young men stumbling down the street and yelling things in German and I automatically think—oh yea, this is where the party’s at. And it was. There was a huge group of people in their twenties hanging out this large brick arch that led to another alley that led to a massive labyrinth of apartments. The crowd was composed of German film school students that just wanted to have a good time. They were aggressively liberal, chain smokers, alcoholics, and insanely good looking. Everyone was dressed so different and trendy but in the oddest way. They all looked like they were wearing a compilation of what you would find in a thrift store but it was okay that they were wearing it because they were liberal film students. Oh and let me tell you—wearing a black Norht face jacket with black sweatpants, tennis shoes, pearl earrings, and a perky green scarf wasn’t the attire for fitting in. I feel like I should have showed up with my birthday suit and red patent leather boots…at least I would gain some street cred.

Besides not fitting in at all, the party turned out to be a bunch of kids yelling over each other in their Willy Wonka attire and smoking clouds of nicotine in each other’s faces. So we left and found this gorgeous bar. It was tiny and perfect after a stressful day of traveling. The walls were brick and cement and the entire bar was lit by candlelight. There was jazz music playing in the background and the crowd seemed to be locals from the ages 25-45. I ordered whatever beer was on tap and I drank my stress away. Gulp gulp gulp. Then I was suddenly between the sheets and fast asleep.

Wake up, get ready, and out the door. It’s foggy out and the leaves are all yellow and falling of the trees. The streets are so quiet and the only thing you can hear are the dogs barking in the distance. Berlin, at that moment in time, reminded me of Edgar Allen Poe and all of his depressing yet beautiful poems. I kept walking in the crisp and refreshing air thinking ‘oh I love this place! I could see myself moving here’ …and that’s when I stepped in dog shit. Then it started to rain and the puddle of man-piss from the drunk college student stumbling away (mind you, it’s around 10am) started to mix in with the shit. Who is the clumsyfuck that double dipped in the party puddle? That’d be me. I had shat all over my pants, literally. Brooke kept asking why it smelled so bad but I was just too embarrassed to tell her that I stepped in dog dumplings twice so I just casually acted as if it was the person standing next to us that smelled like ass and started up a new conversation.

Alexander plaz, Berlin Wall Museum, Parliament building, Olympic stadium,... all historical sites covered. Job accomplished.

J.

Brain-Raped.

Excuse me while I get brain-raped by all these papers/midterms/quizzes/projects this week. What is going on here? I am surprisingly not stressed but I am absolutely exhausted... approximately 20 hours on a train only to come back to 2 projects, a midterm, and a paper due on Monday. I have not had time to write about Lake Como or talk to my parents. Berlin this weekend. Midterms next week. Oh ho ho and I think my dear friend Double-chin is coming out to play... all these fried foods cannot be good for me. I can feel it in the donut that seems to be growing around my waist. Save me. I need to start running/ replacing chocolate bars with vegetables. Oh boy.

Current Song? From Where You Are, Lifehouse.

This song has been on repeat for the past couple hours because it is the one song that has been able to keep me relaxed.

Oh George...

I am currently sitting at my desk popping vita-gummies into my mouth like candy. Unfortunately, I am still drunk and very much aware of how cold it is in my room. I have my tie-dye Disneyworld t-shirt on, sweatpants, wool socks (that make your toes all moist if you wear them for more than 40 minutes), and my hair up in a Mulan bun writing about today because it was that phenomenal. There were three things that made my day—1) talked to Ante on skype because he finally got a webcam 2) vocab-raped my French quiz 3) went to my music professor’s house for dinner and wine. I know, my life is sweet… it shouldn’t take you long to be jealous.

So after my International Studies class this morning, I get a little ring on skype from my good friend from home—Ante Zlomislic. He is this tall, dark, and handsome Croatian that will probably make you weak in the knees if you ever met him. Insanely courteous (I don’t really like to surround myself with rude assholes so most of the guys I write about are quite polite), bio major, 6’1”, soccer soccer soccer, and has so much Croatian pride that I wouldn’t be surprised if one day he showed me the Croatian flag he had tattooed on his ass. I would consider him my best guy friend and confidant. No. I haven’t “tapped that” if you were wondering. We’re on a completely friendly basis so let’s get that clear. The description seems bias but this is what girls think of him when they first meet him so I’m going off of that. Anyway, I wasn’t able to meet up with him before I left to Luxembourg so you could imagine my excitement when I saw him calling me on skype! I basically introduced him to everyone at the chateau who was getting coffee in the morning and I talked to him for about an hour. We covered everything from his drunken hook ups to my adventures abroad… talking to him made me miss the beach, the weather, and burritos. It made me miss being completely relaxed in the comfort of my home. I can’t wait to come back home and grab a scolding hot apple cider with Zlomface and read on a comfortable couch at Beantown.

I surprise raped my French quiz. I love it when that happens. Next.

George. Love of my life. If he were only a couple decades younger and didn’t live in Luxembourg, I would pounce on him like a lioness pouncing on her prey. Oh yea I would. Unfortunately, under these circumstances, he is a tad bit older than my usual pool of men and my music professor so I would have to take him out of my “to pounce” category. On a peppier note—he invited some students to come to his suh-weet apartment outside of Luxembourg to wine and dine. It was a group of 9 students from our class. Conor, Kens, Andrew, Nick, Ider, Deyo, Zach, John, and I. We all caught the same train and ended up walking to this random apartment complex in what seemed to be Arctic weather. We finally found George’s apartment. All of us stood around the mailbox like a pack of hyenas buzzing the ringer and laughing uncontrollably when all of a sudden we hear "...well I'm glad you found my apartment...." from the speakers on the ceiling. Jesus? No. Backes. We all burst out laughing because his booming voice vibrates off the walls around us and we ask him "GEORGGGGGE!!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!?! HOW DO WE GET IN???" and he replies in his German accent "well my dears, hold on. go to the first floor" so we book it up the stairs to his door, similar to children going to their first day of class, and hurry inside to slip off our shoes and coat. We leave our shoes, backpacks, and jackets in his study room and rapid-fire up the stairs to his dining room. George is wearing his black Lacoste polo with a pair of dark-wash jeans and black leather slippers with black socks. What a G. His apartment, being a bachelor, is exactly how I imagined it. A-frame ceiling. Spotless. Modern. And of course, his walls are speckled with abstract art. Oh George, you’re so cultured. In his living room, he has a beautiful piano that has two sleek speakers on both sides and this random ladder that leads up to a secret room (hollerrrrr that’s probably where he hides all the ladies). He has his black, long dining table set up for 10 people with wine glasses sitting next to each plate. Everyone takes a glass and he pours Feiderweisen into our cups. This drink is only made during a certain time of the year in Luxembourg and only lasts for approximately three weeks during the fall. To put it simply, it’s a fresh wine straight from a Luxembourg winery. It smells like pears, apples, and cider…has a milky, beige color to it, and tastes like pear juice. It’s delicious! J Only problem: the incredibly high alcohol content. So I sipped two glasses as I munched on BBQ Pringles (George says all his American students love them so he thought they would be great appetizers) and got to know the other 7 students and our remarkable professor. Then he proceeded to tell us that he had made dinner for us and will be serving more wine, duh. Fettuccini pasta with ham—so good! We all downed our plate, had seconds, and kept drinking our wine. Everyone looked like they were about to puke from over-eating but then George brought out two cherry pies. I just about rolled over and died. I had too much to drink, too much to eat and now my professor just brought out cherry pie so of course I had to eat that too. Oh my god, I might as well be pregnant…then I’ll at least have an excuse to eat as much as I do. Oh and it was so hard to act entirely sober during our conversation after my third glass of wine when I easily get completely tipsy off of one! I felt like the Pepto Bismol commercial when they sing the song about having an upset stomach—only if I could have some Pepto, I would die happy. Ugh. But I kept eating and drinking. Everyone else looked absolutely fine but I was wobbling here and there and chugging the bottles of water that George had put out on the table so that I would hurry and sober up. We discussed everything from Green Beer Day (where Ider will spend 10 days enjoying life of a Miami college student) to George’s experience at a Pink Floyd concert. Damn, my music teacher is such a badass. AND he invites us over to his bachelor pad to wine and dine us… I am just obsessed with today.

It’s 1:06 in the morning and I need to write my parents an e-mail telling them I’m still alive. Adios for now…

J.

Gimme Some Brownies

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

So... Amsterdam...

Oh there are so many things that happened this weekend that I would have never thought, in my wildest dreams, I would do.

The first night doing legal things.

Group picture in our swanky room

Doing touristy things; Heineken Brewery

Caro! One of our many boyfriend pictures

The "I AMsterdam" sign

At one of the many "coffeeshops"

Traveled with a different group this week so I'll give you a little background info...well, what I can get from spending the weekend with them.

The Girls:

Caro-- my big in theta who is probably one of the most sarcastic girls I have ever met. She's insanely laid back and is drawn to tequila shots. She has an incredibly thin figure that makes you wonder 'how the HELL did you just finish that cheeseburger, fries, milkshake, beer tower, and bagel?' You think I'm joking? No. This girl is amazing. And that's why she's my big.

Molly--bubbly, vivacious, and a boy magnet. She has a sweet voice that always sounds like she's asking a question for some reason. She has bright blue eyes and has a permanent smile stamped on her cheery face and she seems to have a different facial expression for everything, it's hilarious.

The Boys:

Tristan: Really good posture, dirty blond hair, and is probably the best dressed guy at MUDEC. He is incredibly polite, funny, mature and ...reminds me of Mr. Darcy, not gonna lie. He says jokes and then looks at you with a stoic face ...and that face in it of itself makes you burst out laughing. He's a hoot.

Brendan: Dark brown hair with Edward Cullen-ish golden eyes and light brown freckles that are scattered on his nose and under his eyes. Reserved, but not quiet. He'll throw these offhand comments that make you laugh until you feel like you got a legit ab-workout...but you just don't expect it. Swift kick in the face when it happens so you have to pay attention. He's one of those guys you have to wait a while to get to know and understand because he doesn't tell you his life story at the first 'hello'. It's refreshing.

Greg: buzz cut hair, beaming smile, and enough sarcastic remarks to last you a lifetime. You really have to pay attention or you'll end up looking at him confused and dazed while everyone around you looks at you laughing. Yea, it happened. His intelligence exudes from his pores when you first meet him and then you chuckle to yourself when you find out he's an engineering major. Of course.

Connor: Oh my god this guy is friendly. He went to school in Santa Barbara, but you already know that. He's a quadruplet but you probably know that too. He's a sweetheart and he was definitely the one who found me at the construction site in Venice so I can't really give him shit... ever.

I tried to keep the descriptions concise. Kens looked over the descriptions and gave it a head nod so I would say they're pretty accurate.

Friday-- Tristan, Brendan, Greg, Connor, and I hopped on a train to Amsterdam. Molly and Caro hadn't packed so they got on a later train. 6 hours pass. We get off the train in Amsterdam and it smells like weed. Cool. We rushed to the Marriot to drop off our bags and grab a drink with Connor's friend from 4th grade and his wife (what?!). I get into our room, 356, and I immediately jumped on what is probably the most comfortable bed, ever. Then I looked in the mirror and realized that the guys were too nice to tell me that I looked like hell. My hair didn't even look like hair anymore... it was more of a nest for all all of the damn pigeons of Amsterdam to chill in. And my face? Oh Jesus. Sweatfest '09. That's all I have to say.

So we meet Connor's long lost friend and try these fried bitterballs that were crispy on the outside but nice and cheesy on the inside with little pieces of mystery meat. yum. :)

Then we go and purchase this magical cigarette at "the Bulldog" and go into this discotech where we take a couple puffs. Tristan and Brendan had given me info sessions about what I should do and how I should do it. They also said that I wouldn't get high the first time...so I huffed and puffed and I started to laugh. The skin under my eyes felt puffy and all I could do was smile. My face was permanently smiling and I couldn't do anything about it! So I stood there awkwardly in a club laughing at nothing and being the most awkward person ever.

Molly and Carolyn arrive. They have a couple puffs of this magical cigarette and we all stand there laughing hugging. The rest of the night is a blur because I got thirsty and decided to drink champagne and straight gin.

Day two.

I wake up refreshed and happy as ever. I roll over to see Caro and Molly bouncing off the walls--they're morning people and I'm not. We all get ready, grab coffee, and go to the Pancake Corner where we stuff our faces with all sorts of delicious things. Then we decide to venture off to the "I AMsterdam" sign and smoke in the beautiful park. Puff Puff. We're ready for the Van Gogh Museum.

OH MY GOD Van Gogh is a genius and if I could have little Van Gogh babies, I would. I don't even know how long I was in the museum but it seemed like five seconds. There is a part in Mary Poppins where the kids jump into a chalk painting... that's how I felt. Youtube it. There was one painting that I remember standing in front of for a while and there was a woman at the end of the road who offered to take me in to her house and give me a slice of pumpkin pie. I'm not joking. And I just remember reaching out to the painting to take the woman's hand and being ferociously grabbed by a security guard who was yelling at me in some foreign language... but all of her words were combined into one long blur. Oh man I love Van Gogh. I love Van Gogh so much that I bought a poster when I was ...not in the right state of mind. I kept thinking " Oh it's so pretty, I could stare at this forever and ever and ever and ever...". Funny thing is, five hours later when I looked down at my hand, I had no idea which poster I had bought.

Brendan, Caro, Greg, Connor, and Molly decided to go on the Heineken Brewery tour after eating a couple really special brownies while I chose to go with Tristan to stuff my face with the most delicious BLT and apple pie with butterscotch ice cream. I almost died from happiness.

Fast forward a couple hours. We're in the red light district.

There were alleys upon alleys of glass doors that had brilliantly neon red lights bordering each and every door. The women would stand there in their lace/bikini/lingerie trying to seduce the men into sleeping with them. Some of them were straight out a magazine...and the others? Well, lets just say that they looked like could have been named Stephen or Stephanie. I couldn't help but stare at them and want to take them home to make them a nice home cooked meal. I don't know. Then there were the girls who had lines of men waiting for them outside their door. Literally, lines of men. Really? I feel like if I went after someone, I would bring a nice bottle of Mr. Clean with me and some sanitation wipes. These girls had been sexed. Sexed to a point of no return. I was just speechless.

..............

Then we made a group decision to attend a sex show. Yes. A sex show. It was more like a magic show... but I'll get to that later. I don't know what we were thinking but our logical reasoning was "we could never do this in America"... what were we thinking???

So we all pay this sketchy man standing on a corner and walk into this janky theater with a mural of multiple men, women, and animals having sex in multiple positions on the walls. The stage was about the size of a pool table and the curtains were a light lavender sprinkled with glitter. Classy. The crowd? People of all sorts. Wives, creepy old men, and college students. I kept thinking to myself "what are you doing here? HOW did that woman just do that? Is her leg really supposed to move like that? Did a glow-in-the-dark string REALLY just magically come out of her vagina?" And yes. These magicians pulled all sorts of items (another one? handkerchief.) from their vag and I really felt like I was watching Chriss Angel than a sex show. I have never in my life had a desire to do drugs... but that moment in time, I was SO glad that I was under the influence. On that note, I would like to explain that 1) no I'm not a drug addict now 2) I'm not smoking when i come back home. Why? Because it's done and over with. I always wanted to test the waters but now that I've tried it, I have no desire to spend my money on something that makes me more awkward than I already am. No thank you sir, I can do that all on my own.

Sunday? Went to the Anne Frank House.

SO glad to walk around and have it smell like fresh air instead of weed.

I'm hungry. Lake Como this weekend and Berlin next weekend! :)

J.

Construction

Venice, Italy

Always making new friends in foreign countries. nbd.

With Carolyn in front of St. Mark's!

Connor, Mike, Carolyn, and I in front of St. Mark's!

Oh my god. Our first scoop of gelato in Italy!

Basically my favorite picture of the day. Couldn't stop making fun of Brendan for awkwardly putting his hands on my shoulder for the group picture so we decided to do a solo prom shot. SO perfect.

Riding on the Grand Canal!

Carolyn and I on a gondola!

Group picture!

Venice at sunset :)

Venice at night... beautiful!

I thought this man had bicep and peck implants...so of course attempted to take a picture of him...

Kens, Connor and I at dinner!

My two favorites in Murano!

Glass sculpting demonstration in Murano!

Kensie and I always wearing matching outfits. And no, it's not planned.

Lauren and I on the boat taxi!

Murano!

Exploring Venice

Pat with the thetas :)

Absolutely no cars in Venice. Taxis? Ambulance? Police? Oh yea, all on boats. So sweet.

The night of our wine tasting... uh oh...

Please do not let me mix wine and gin&tonic.

Because then I'll end up in a construction site, running away from three middle aged Italian men in a suburb of Venice by myself. Slow clap for me because I'm a dumbass. I run into things, trip over myself, but I usually make decent life decisions.

NOPE, not Saturday night. The classical music course that I am taking this semester went on a mini study tour to Venice (the heart of the music during the Baroque Period, as my professor would say) and I had a marvelous time riding gondolas, eating gelato every second of the day, people watching, shopping, etc. So the entire trip was smooth sailing until Saturday night. Our group went to a restaurant for wine tasting and I was pretty sure it was going to be an educational experience with a tiny sampler of wine... I WAS WRONG. Bottomless wine the entire night because our professor knows us too well.

I'm not going to lie, it was a blast. People were getting tipsy as the night progressed and I thought, as I sipped on my third glass of wine, 'oh this night is going to be pretty chill... no big'. That's when the waiter brought a little specialty jug with sparkling wine. I got a little too excited, chugged my third glass of white wine to get a refill of the bubbly which was when I knew the night was going to take a turn for the worst. Dinner was phenomenal--mushroom pasta, veal with tomato sauce, and tiramisu with endless jugs of wine... so my life was absolutely perfect at that moment in time. Then our class dispersed. Kensie and I ended up sneaking away to another bar with our friends Conor, Andrew, Rudy, and Kirsty where Kens had another glass of white wine (always classy, my girl) and I ordered a gin and tonic. I turned around to see this 65ish old man curiously looking at me and creepily smiling so I smiled girlishly because I thought--oh! nice old man. Then he gave me the one-finger-bend 'come over here' which was when I grabbed Kensie's arm and whispered in her ear about this cradle robber...'is there something wrong with my eyes or is he really giving me the pedosmile?' Oh and he was. He gave Kensie a nice look up and down and did the half smile. Thank you Italy for breeding such fine wine and aged douches. Always appreciated.

Anyway, we walked away. Conflict avoided. As we were walking away to find ourselves some more wine, this woman in a black coat in front of a bar grabbed my arm and asked me where I was from. So I smiled and told her, Los Angeles!!! Which was when I proceeded to yank Kensie's arm and introduce her to the pair of couples that were casually sipping on their wine. We spoke to them for a bit when they insisted on buying us a drink, one of the men (who seemed to be around 45) asked me what I wanted and my automatic response was gin&tonic. He gave me a disapproving look and said 'no no no, small glass of wine'. I guess he knew I shouldn't be drinking anymore of that gin. whoops!

I wish I could be more detailed but it just gets a little blurry after that bar. Hm. But Kens and I got to our hotel room safely, which was all that mattered. She felt a little sick so I waited until she fell asleep to go on round two of my night in Venice. Bad idea.

I heard Kirsty talking to Rudy and Andrew outside of my room so I opened my door to see what the game plan was but when I heard Kens hacking up a lung, I rushed back to make sure she was alive. After she had fallen asleep, I thought it was time to go out again. I mean, it couldn't have been that long since the threesome had left, right? Time passes by so quickly when you're not thinking clearly. So I put on my sandals, coat, and ran outside of my hotel. I saw three figures walking down the street and I started to jog after them.

You do not understand. Andrew is the tallest, most distinct human being on this Earth. He is about... 11 feet tall and towers over all Europeans... so when I saw a decently tall man walking with two other people, I immediately thought 'oh Andrew!!! wait!!!'

The three musketeers went through little alleyways and opened the door to their apartment.

Not Andrew. Not Rudy. And not Kirsty. Shit. I immediately thought... it'll be fine, just find a hotel and they can help me find my way back! I found a small hotel a couple blocks away and went to the nearest bar to grab myself a diet coke which was when a darling couple waved me over. I thought, well I'm lost ...might as well make the best of this situation. So I sat down and I chatted for a while to this Italian couple in their mid 30's. After I found out their life story, they offered to buy me a drink. Diet Coke. That's what a logical person would have ordered if they were parched, lost, and among a group of strangers. No no no, I ordered a gin and tonic.

They didn't speak English, Spanish, French, or Korean so I honestly do not know how I communicated with them ...but I guess it worked. By this time, I remembered my original plan and I left the bar with directions back to my hotel.

Again, I got lost. I begin to get scared because now I cannot see things clearly and all I can identify around me are long, dark alleys. Great. So I stumble upon a construction site. I stay in the garage and attempt to call all of the two people in my phone book from the Venice group trip. Brendan picks up his phone after being asleep and tells me to call Connor. I give Connor a ring and he picks up but I am too disoriented and emotional so he gives the phone to my other friend Carolyn who tells me to go to a hotel and call a taxi back to the hotel. Brilliant! So I walk out of the construction site to the nearby hotel where three Italian men in their late 30's start to harass me--'where do you live? Bella, we can walk you home. Where are you from? How old are you? You lost? Come in with us...'

All I could do was run away. So I run. Run away crying because I am scared shitless. I am lost, inebriated, and in a foreign country. COOL. I find the construction site where I call Connor again and ask him to find me. I don't remember how he found me but I do remember walking back into my room, seeing Kensie's brilliantly red hair sticking out from under the bedsheets and sighing with relief.

Apparently, I was only a couple blocks away from the hotel I was staying in and the next day when our class was safely cruising back to the airport, I passed the construction site where I hid. Now my friends poke fun at me and ask me if I need help on my way to class or if I'll get on the way. Hah. Thank you Venice for all these memorable moments.