TravelBean

GTL...oh, and reverse culture shock

2010-01-17T22:46:00.000-08:00

There is this mysterious thing called reverse culture shock. It's when you're not used to what you naturally should be used to. Having ice in your drink, people speaking a familiar language, and sleeping in your own bed....this sounds absolutely beautiful... but for me, it seems so difficult to simply 'adjust'. Instead of sipping Guinness at a pub, you're taking tequilia shots before you hit all the annex fraternity houses. Conversations change from "how did you end up in Austria from Vietnam? What are you doing here and why are you all alone?" to "so..what's your major? have you seen the new business building? GTL?" You're not traveling to a different country every weekend and you aren't meeting people from all over the world. Alcohol isn't allowed on the streets and it sure as hell isn't cheap. Fraternity parties are just as crowded as they have always been and your clothes somehow have beer stains all over them when you leave a bar.

Even though you have only been gone a semester, people seem to have forgotten your name and how to communicate with you. Okay. It's not that bad but nothing seems to be the same. It seems like an awkward limbo that you're stuck in... where you want things to go back to the way they were when you first left but you, as well as everyone around you, seem to have changed too drastically to put your life in rewind.

It is a Sunday night. There is no class tomorrow because it's Martin Luther King Day and my entire house is out partying while I sit here writing in my blog. I actually attempted to go to a Sig Ep party around midnight but I just ended up coming back home, snuggling in bed and cruising the channels to find reruns of the Golden Globes. There were too many people at this party that I didn't know and since it was a party dedicated to the new freshman pledge class, I definitely had a hard time having fun. So I handed my liquid acid shot to some random girl with a peacock headband and shuffled my way out of the party. I quickly walked back home , took off my make-up, put my hair in a ponytail, and put my limes back in the frig.

The past two nights had been a little too rough and I thought that I should probably give my body a break. Seeing as how I have a bruise on my entire right leg from tripping over the sidewalk last night, I wouldn't say that it was the best decision to go out tonight. I ended up tripping over the sidewalk, falling, recovering, then falling again on my right leg/arm. Not only do I have insanely large bruise on my thigh but I can't bend my leg because it is so swollen.

On a peppier note, I now know what GTL is. And I am also in love with all of my house mates and our new pledge class. The girls that I live with are the most driven, intelligent, beautiful girls I have ever met at Miami and I am so honored to call them my close friends and sisters. They're not just a dime piece, they're a damn silver dollar. Even though this bullshit reverse culture shock is happening, I think it's easier because I have these amazing girls to talk to all the time and go out with. Being with them always guarantees a phenomenal night and amazing memories so I think it will be an easier transition that I originally thought.

And...most importantly... I have noticed this guy who always pulls up in the house next to ours. He drives this yellow mustang and has white sunglasses and always revs his engine because he thinks he's hot shit. Little does he know that everyone thinks he's a major tool/doucher. He should rethink his career path...perhaps try out for Jersey Shore 2?

You thought I was done with this travelblog but I am most definitely not. Next destination? Teaching English with my friend Joan in South Korea. Until then, I'll be writing small updates about my life in Oxford, OH.

J.

O'Hare

2009-12-18T14:52:00.000-08:00

Currently at the airport in Chicago O'Hare after traveling for 38 hours. I have officially become delusional and my vision has become quite blurred from the lack of sleep and lack of food. Even though I am sitting at an airport food court, I am too exhausted to stand up and carry all my things to get food and then carry everything back to the table. My flight was delayed two hours and all I want to do right now is shower and sleep. I have a backpack full of four glass boots (Christmas presents), laptop (that is 9 pounds because it's old and useless), two huge books that I thought I would read on the plane, and all these other delicate ornaments that I couldn't risk putting in my checked luggage. It looks like I have just stepped OUT of a shower because my hair is that greasy and I am pretty sure I smell like a rubbish bin. People seem to be talking but I cannot really hear anything and it just looks like their mouths are moving and this airport music is way too festive for me right now. BUT what I love is how the entire airport smells like cinnamon apple, even the bathrooms.

I want to shower. So badly. And sleep.

Some updates since the last time I posted: MUDEC Prom, Last days at MUDEC, Christmas markets.

MUDEC Prom

That would be my date and I at Prom, round 2. Hahah This photo always makes me laugh because it is my only legitimate photo from that night. Oh and I just realized that I have never written about the two greatest guys that I have met at MUDEC. It's funny how the two guys that I hang out with the most aren't properly described in my travel blog.

Well, hope this isn't too late.
Meet Shugs. He's the sharp looking gentleman in the photo above. He's 6'4", business major, and reads ESPN News like it is his job. He's become my closest male friend while studying abroad and he is just the sweetest, most hilarious guy you will ever meet. It's funny because when I first met him at the Chicago airport the first day, I thought "oh bother. jock asshole with no heart. doubtful we'll ever become friends" but he is the furthest from that description. He's just a big cuddly bear who makes random, incredibly inappropriate, remarks all the time (and yes, those inappropriate remarks always comes with inappropriate hand gestures and sound effects). He says things as they are and he's probably one of the most honest guys I have ever met. Oh and the best thing about Shugah is that it is impossible to be awkward around him...which is great because as everyone knows, I make everything awkward. I have traveled to Ireland, London, Nice, and Lyon with this big bear and I think one of the main reasons why I, and everyone else on the trip, enjoyed it so much was because of him. He's not the craziest partier and it's easier to get to know him in a smaller setting because he won't get wasted, then get naked and dance on tables like some other guys I know. .... Uhm, Ante? Hahahah (just kidding. kind of?) I have nothing but great things to say about Shugs because I honestly believe that he is one of the most kind, thoughtful, and funny guys I have met and there is not ever a dull moment with him.

Anyway, on to his lover, Jrod.

And when I say lover, I don't mean it literally. They are just the perfect set of friends that you could never imagine them without each other. They are absolutely hysterical together and I am slightly, quite obviously, obsessed with them.

Let's get to business now. Jared is about 5'11'' (I never asked so I really hope that's accurate... ) with dark brown bushy hair and black Burberry plastic framed glasses that make him look like the studious history buff that he is. What is funny about Jrod is how he could initially be intimidating because of the way he is when he is in the zone--it's all about his ipod and Zoolander facial expression. But once he opens his mouth and yells "Oh Shugs!" or "Jmoney, let's get real for a second" it's hard not to burst out laughing. His good humor and pleasant demeanor is so contagious that it is a guaranteed fun time when you're with the Jbomb. In fact, when Tristan (previously described as Mr. Darcy in my older posts), Kens, Jared, and I went to the Christmas markets in Luxembourg City,... Jared and I decided to get some stew. Jrod made some little twat remark about me and my overeating habits that I ended up laughing so hard that I got a piece of carrot from the stew lodged uncomfortably in the nose. I know, I do the most attractive things.

Random photo from the Boot after they got their new sign on the windows!

Anyway, I should probably be logical and wait at my gate so that I end up coming home for Christmas. I can't wait to be in my own bed!!!

Oh and a nice little photo for the holidays...

Found a group of festive Santas. Thought the photo was necessary.

Felix & Marie's

2009-12-03T04:30:00.000-08:00

Poulet avec Champignons

Matching aprons!

The table that Felix and Marie set up!

Going to work with the potatoes

Felix helping Courtney with the tats

B and Adrienne working on the taters

B being a pro and opening the champagne bottle

Anna opening the champagne bottle like a boss

Adrienne and I ready to cook with our matching aprons

Rob going to work

Emily stirring the mushrooms

table set-up

Marie...needs her own tv show on Food Network

A couple of days ago, I got an e-mail from our activities coordinator, Kelley, asking for a replacement for an upcoming cooking class in Luxembourg City. I jumped on the opportunity like a cougar and got the solo spot available. It was a group of 10 students who wanted to learn how to cook a traditional Luxembourgish meal. We all met up at the train station around 6:15pm and headed to this hidden house in the middle of the city. It's sad that I cannot describe the house properly because it was probably beautiful but it was too dark to see anything. It was also raining which means I was running for cover like a corpulent child running after an ice cream truck since I am prone to getting sick.

Kelley rings the door bell and the it slowly opens to a smiling European face. She was about 5'5", light brown hair, blue eyeshadow, with a white button up shirt and black pants. Marie, that was her name. Around 55 years old, this woman was probably the most friendly person I had ever met. I entered her house with my arms open to give this woman a hug and she laughed and said "Oh! We are giving hugs today?!" and gave me the warmest hug amidst the cold wind. To her right, her husband waited to give me a hug and two European kisses. Felix. He was my favorite. About 5'11", with a checkered blue button up and a periwinkle cashmere sweater on top. White hair, frameless glasses and a smile that took up half of his face...this man did not know English but somehow I knew everything that he was trying to say. He would mumble to get your attention and then the rest was charades.

Felix gave us all mathcing lime green aprons to wear for our kitchen adventure. We made potato pancakes, something that resembled a chicken pot pie, and two apple pies. While I was mincing apples for our pie, Felix would come up next to feed me apples while making sounds similar to Kermit the muppet. Oh he was great.

Marie would begin to teach us how to create this chicken dish as Felix would be in the background cleaning up the knives, spoons, and bowls. She would go on about Luxembourg culture and he would randomly come up, look at her, tap his wristwatch and look at us with a big smile and say "I teach time management and organization", implying that she needed to speed up so we could have dessert in time to catch the last train.

We spent four hours having dinner with this phenomenal couple. There is something that I will miss about Europe--there are no microwaveable meals, instead families and couples cook together and drink together; they can spend hours over a meal, getting to know the ins and outs of a person's life. It all makes complete sense. And that would probably be one of the most beautiful things about European culture that I want to bring back to the states. It's funny how the smallest thing like a cooking class could completely change your outlook on your culture.

Side note:

There will be no more crazy posts about me getting lost in foreign countries or dancing around in 7 story discotechs since I will be coming home in two weeks and finals are in one week. I have decided to stay in Luxembourg for the next two weekends for two primary reasons 1) I am broke 2) my life is a mess and projects are piling up. This doesn't mean that my posts will be insipid and grueling to read but the majority of the photos will be around Luxembourg, or neighboring cities in Germany/France, and more analysis on the difference of cultures since this trip is coming to an end. Pumpkin and I will be going to the Christmas market in Trier, Germany this Saturday for a day trip to purchase some hand-made ornaments and sip on some hard cider. Yay! I cannot wait until Christmas!

Bottom of the U Curve

2009-11-30T10:58:00.000-08:00

I miss routine and normalcy in my life. There is nothing like sitting in front of the tv and popping in Peppermint Patties into your mouth while watching Elf or Mary Poppins on repeat. I have reached a point in my trip where I feel the need to immediately find a trip back to America instead grabbing the next train to Belgium. People wonder why I am being such a sap but the truth is, is that places are not the same if you don't have great people to experience them with. I have been taking trips with my best friend Kens but we both talked about how there are so many times when we travel, see phenomenal things and the only thing that comes into our minds is "man, i wish mom/dad/sister/brother were here to see this...". Home is where the heart is.

I cruised photos and I thought I'd have an entry dedicated to things, people, times that I miss. Ugh.

Doing absolutely nothing with my best friend Steph

My mom and Steph

The parentals

Taking silly photos in stores

My mom giving steph a massage. Standard.

My favorite picture of my dad. This is so him.

My three closest/most amazing friends from home. Ante, Lilli, Steph, Yash

My beautiful parents again... :)

My sister. What a dime piece.

My mom hiking on our trip to Alaska

Just cruising around glaciers... no big deal.

My family doesn't really take "normal" family photos. They're always in the most random places...like on glaciers.

The Grove!!! during CHRISTMASTIME!!!!

Oh I miss you...

Trip to Hawaii with Lilli

I miss creeping on random tanners with you Lilli!!!

The standard pic with Ante

My companion. I miss you. :(

Walking along the beach at night

My two best friends from home :(

Dan man and his solemn self

MY SISTER!!!

Korean food... :(

Hanging out on the deck at my sister's house

Reading with Monster and watching boats pass by

My adorable mom with her precious polka-dot dresses

Dessert/ Cafe hunting around LA. (sorry for the solo shot... I thought it was completely necessary.)

Persian food.

Party Until 6 in the Morninggg

2009-11-30T09:31:00.000-08:00

Barcelona, Spain (travel scale: 7)

So take a look at the apartment we snagged right on La Rambla. I mean, no big deal.

Our king sized bed that had some major theta spooning going on

Our kitchen and some more beds

The other side of our apartment

A terrace all to ourselves!

My big being cute and Jared playing an intense session of chess

Popping that bottle of champagne at 10 in the morning

Time for mimosas!!!

Adding more champagne to drown the taste of orange juice.

Starting off the day right

J-rod is such a pimp

Standard best friend picture!

I mean, who doesn't sell roosters on the side of the street?

Outdoor market that I was obsessed with

Nice legs?

I think I just died and came to heaven.

Fresh fruits and veggies!

So much candy.

Anyone need some peppers?

Fresh fish

The delicious fruit smoothies

The crepe stand

Making his masterpiece

Brie and ham on a crepe!

I've missed fresh fruit

Choosing wine for the fam

Nice, France

2009-11-30T08:48:00.000-08:00

Nice, France (travel scale: 7.5)

Voila!

2009-11-29T13:40:00.000-08:00

Lyon,

France

(travel scale: 9)

At a children's park in Lyon on Sunday!

The girls at the park

Lyon on a Sunday

City view

Silk printing workshop

Demonstration

Paints, glue and such

The cathedral at the top of the city

Roman ruins

Crepe stand in Old Lyon

The famous building in Lyon...notice it's all painted.

Biennale de Lyon

Artwork at the exhibition

Interactive art piece

Whoa

My favorite work at the Biennale

Yes. I have changed the format of this wretched thing because it will not let me post photos with better image quality on my previous format so ... here we are.

Beside the minute fact that my hands feel like a museum of foreign French bacteria from all the public transportation, Lyon was a success.

There is something transcendental about this city. The gentle glances that people give when you pass them in the streets, the peaceful wind that grazes your face as you walk around the avenues, and the sound of heels clicking on the cobblestone streets. The alleyways are peppered with well-dressed and poised women holding on to their shopping bags and men. The men are probably the best of the best. Most of them are approximately six feet tall, with lean bodies and leather shoes. No clothes, just leather shoes.

Just kidding.

Lyon, out of the 16 cities that I have visited in Europe has had the best dressed men. The top four cities with the fine dimes? Vienna, Paris, London, and Lyon. And of course, with the good looking men and women, this means gorgeous babies and proper, well-trained dogs. There is a sophisticated aurora that surrounds these cities. Paris has the hustle and bustle of the city with businessmen that line the metro but many of them have a swagger of a man looking for another man …so that is a game I just cannot win. Therefore, I would have to say that even though the men are wonderful and gorgeous, it’s a city for Perez Hilton but not me.

Vienna has the striking older men in their 30’s to their 50’s (age is only a number…) and cookie-cut families with well-behaved children. Everything is fancy. From the strollers to the dog leashes, it was the best of the best.

Lyon has the men from 15 to 50 with their button-up shirts, tie, and sweaters. The perfectly pressed dress pants, leather belt and leather shoes. Then there is the occasional velvet blazer with leather elbow pads that make the outfit. From plaid to simple khaki, whatever they wear, it only adds character to their lean, European bodies. They smile, open doors, and hold conversations for no reason.

I went into a pharmacy to purchase some more Pepcid AC (to take before I drink to get rid of my "asian glow" or me looking like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka) and tried my best at my broken French. The few phrases that I knew, I said. The pharmacist smiled at my attempts, helped me learn a couple new words, and spoke to me for a while as he helped me find what I needed.

Another encounter with a Lyonaisse man was when I was at the metro trying to purchase a ticket. Every student in our class received three metro tickets but only two of mine worked. I went to go and pay for a new one but I was unsure of how to use the machine so I dumbly stood there and began to press all the buttons. I looked over at this man next to me buying his ticket and gave him my most helpless look. This French college student with a tethered black leather over-the-shoulder book bag, dark-wash jeans, and black wool sweater leaned over to help me purchase my ticket. I was frantically putting in all of my credit cards in to the slot but unfortunately none of them wanted to work. So he looked at me as I began to sweat like a whore in a confessional, smiled, and gave me his metro pass. I held it and kind of stared at him thinking he wanted me to hold his pass while he figured it out but he just laughed and said “se bon! Se bon!” And I just could not stop laughing and saying “merci beaucoup!”

This brings me to the beautiful French receptionist that worked the night shift at our hotel. Now believe me when I say that this man was by far the filet mignon out of all the beefy men out there in the world. Grade A quality man—that’s all I have to say. The first night our class got into Lyon, I had on my black sweat pants, black northface, tennis shoes, and my hair was like Deb from Napoleon Dynamite. Needless to say, I was not looking my best. So of course when the majority of girls began to talk about the hot guy running around the hotel, I tried to hide in the sea of girls fawning over him. I was too focused on what I wanted to eat for dinner that night to really pay attention to him at the front desk. He was getting trained by one of the owners of the hotel to work the night shift for the weekend. He passed by me and the initial thought that crossed my mind was “I wonder if he could direct me to the nearest restaurant that serves grilled chicken”. Then I slowly began to realize that the girls were all looking in one direction—whatever direction the receptionist was standing. So of course I took a couple steps back from the scene and gave him a quick analysis. He was about 6’2”, brunette with wildly messy but stylish hair (kind of like Ashton Kutcher during his cute phase in The 70’s Show), brown eyes, razor-sharp cheek bones, lean build, and the most perfect smile. Outfit? Light blue collared button-up with a navy blue tie, grey long-sleeve sweater that tucked into his grey corduroy pants with a black leather belt and silver buckle, and dark brown leather dress shoes. It probably sounds like a really awkward outfit but he was just so Euro and good looking that he pulled it off fashionably.

Anyway, a group of us went to dinner and came back around 11pm to see his lovely face welcoming us at the front desk. Then I understood why the girls couldn’t stop giggling over him—he was the definition of what every American girl has been looking for on their semester abroad—a handsome, well-dressed French man with broken English that just happens to be a phenomenal lover. I was spoke to him a couple times that night to get my internet working but the real story is in the second night. It is, to say the least, embarrassing.

The second night, a couple of the girls from our art class decided to try out Lyon’s night life and hit the clubs. We bought some wine, beer, and vodka from the market across the street and started to slowly sip on our beverages as we got to know each other. We went out to the main square, went into a bar that was composed of 16 year old students smoking and pretending like they were far older than they really were. I became too annoyed with the scene so I decided to head back to the hotel.

Well, when we were at the bar, I told one of my fellow art students about the fortunate looking receptionist that was working at the hotel and how it would be lovely to talk to him again. She is just the sweetest girl so she began to teach me multiple phrases in French to say to him. It wasn’t the best thing to do when you’re several drinks in and nervous as a 5 year old child on her first date. We arrive at the hotel and I flew past the front desk and into the lobby since I completely forgot all the French phrases that I just learned. To sum it up…I looked like a fool. Oh and who can forget all of the cameras that are located in and around the hotel premises. Not the best thing to forget when you’re walking up and down the stairs debating the French words that you had just learned 2 minutes ago.

Eventually we talked again and I offered him a place to stay in Los Angeles if he ever visited the states and he asked for my name so he could add me on to facebook (pure jackpot baby). And you know that I sprinted upstairs to check the FB to see if he actually requested me as a friend…which he did immediately afterwards. I think the most endearing thing about this French man was his demeanor—he would look at you, look down, smile, and then look back up. Meek isn’t the best word to describe it but it is the closest adjective I have as of now. Every five words he would say “voila!” and “se bon!” with the adorable French accent and begin to say things in broken English and wander off quickly into his native tongue. I know that there is an insanely small chance that he will come to Los Angeles or I will ever see him again but I always find it fun to make new friends with absolute strangers. What can you lose? Absolutely nothing.

Oh but one thing that I would recommend not doing on your trip to Lyon? Eating at the "taco" stand in the main square. From their description, it sounds delicious but it is actually just a burrito with French fries and cheese and a midget amount of chicken—disgusting. Also, we ended up going to the Biennale de Lyon (a contemporary art exhibition that questions the meaning of everyday objects) which were multiple buildings around Lyon. The only one that I really enjoyed was located at the Museum of Contemporary Art. It was a simple granite table with a wavering river in the middle with fresh carnations in multiple vases. Each visitor was allowed to take one and give it to a stranger that they met in the city…it was supposed to represent the idea of giving something to someone without expecting anything in return. The act of simple gestures that could enlighten an entire city.

…the only problem is, is when you attempt to give an 85 year old stranger on the streets of Lyon and they think you’re attempting to sell it to you so they say vulgar things to you in French and shoo you away. Yes, it happened to me. Rejected and left heartbroken.

Lyon is a city that seems to be the epitome of the French stereotypes that Hollywood has imprinted in to our minds. I obviously don’t say this in a negative way because I gave this city a 9 but what I mean to say is that it is absolutely nothing like Paris. Lyon is more traditional and conservative while Paris is more upbeat and liberal. They are both beautiful cities but if you’re looking for a true French city…Lyon would definitely be more fitting, hands down.

THANKSgiving!

2009-11-20T00:34:00.000-08:00

Spending Thanksgiving in Barcelona with my best friend (Kens, obviously...if you haven't noticed from all the entries/photos with me and the girl with the firey red hair) in an apartment with 12 other people...when it is only supposed to fit 8? oops? All I can say is that this Thanksgiving will not be like any other previous Thanksgivings I have ever had. I was actually supposed to come back to Luxembourg and spend Thanksgiving by myself because there were no cheap flights to Edinburgh but the dean had heard about my situation, called me in, and we spent a good hour and a half figuring out the cheapest, most efficient way for me to be with my friends on Thanksgiving day. I could not be more thankful for such an amazing dean. WHO DOES THAT??? He was looking through a thousand french websites with his ancient computer, cursing in French and finally finding a quick and cheap route to Barcelona on an overnight train with a couple other people from my art class. He said that he understands that Americans really value Thanksgiving and he did not want to take that away from me. It wasn't a big deal that I would be spending Thanksgiving by myself because I have already been able to travel to so many places around Europe and I was so thankful for my parents and my sister for funding my trip but now I am simply speechless. People are so gracious and wonderful... ah, what a great way to start off my class trip to Lyon! I cannot wait to make a homemade Thanksgiving dinner next Thursday!

Celebrating a very merry Thanksgiving,
J.

Think About It

2009-11-19T01:26:00.000-08:00

when two people claim to have the exact same taste in music, the uglier one is lying.

What.. the hell?

2009-11-18T00:42:00.001-08:00

So I was cruising around the internet during my ITS class today and I realized two things--a) people are crazy b) people need to find better ways of investing their money.

And why does this come to my mind? Because I just read about people paying $250 to add veneers for the Twilight premiere and people getting breast implants for frequent flier miles. Because of course I would rather want to increase my mosquito bites appropriately sized woman features instead of using my FFM to travel to Aruba. Really??? Why???

J.

Welcome...to the Dome

2009-11-17T11:44:00.000-08:00

I have never thought I would 1) go to a rave 2) watch a youtube video about how to dance at a rave 3) be followed by a Viennese man in a black hoodie down an alley 4) have 13 shots of tequila/absinth/rum/vodka shots, 2 cups of beer, and a glass of champagne in one night

...but then again, life is always full of surprises.

Unfortunately, I left my camera back at the chateau and was unable to take photos. Ironically, the one time I forget my camera, I go to the most enchanting city.

On a peppier note, I found the youtube videos that would probably make your life a little bit sweeter...enjoy!

The rave that we went to: PraterDome

And the rave tutorial that we watched/memorized before going to the discotech: Pick Those Apples

Praha, Czech Republic (Travel scale: 7)

The castles were gorgeous. It isn't as insanely cheap as people claim it is. The cobblestone walkways are the most difficult thing to walk on in 4 inch heels. The pub crawl, my first death crawl, ended up with Kirstie having to carry me through alleys in Prague. The marketplace has the most phenomenal food--fresh and fried.

Vienna, Austria (Travel scale: 10)

The cathedral. The Christmas market. Christmas lights. Little children prancing around in dresses and suits. Dog parks. Phenomenal shopping. Even better restaurants. Diversity. Cheap food stands with amazing food. Clean streets. Unbelievably great clubs. Romantic. Well dressed men.

Clearly, blog entries would be better with photos but I'll capture every moment for this weekend's trip--Nice, Lyon, and Edinburgh!

J.

Drink Guinness...like a boss

2009-11-10T11:33:00.000-08:00

London, United Kingdom

RyanAir! It only cost 1 euro for our flight to Shannon!

Because of course you would think to remove your earrings before jumping out of a plane...

Welcome to London.

I think I will put this vending machine in my registry when I get married. How GREAT would that be?

So embarrassing. We had to take this picture for the Michael Jackson poster.

Before watching WICKED at the Apollo Theater!!!

Watching WICKED on Halloween!

Going around the haunted parts of London on Halloween and Tristan trying to attack me. It's love.

MUSE!!! I've missed you!!!

Eating breakfast on the patio in London!

Take a right to see Peter Pan!

He's an entire midget taller than me.

So beautiful.

Of course. The standard best friend picture!

On the water in Hyde Park!

Perfect group photo in Hyde Park!

Me and my long lost brother! :)

Apple pie with ice cream and caramel sauce: heaven.

Ordered an entire pitcher of JuneBug for ourselves... then had two long islands...nbd.

Oh my god the beef stew was delicious!!!

Buckingham Palace!

Typical Jess pic.

In front of Harrods!

Cheers!

I wish I could live in London forever...

I got the red telephone booth AND Big Ben!

What a fairytale!

Before we went and watched Parliament!!! Sporting our poppys & supporting UK veterans!

Ireland

Drying our shoes/socks/clothes near the fire after getting caught in the hailstorm

... what is up with the signs in Ireland???

Typical Tristan pic.

Cliffs of Moher!!!!

Please do not jump off a cliff.

Majestic.

The insane winds at the Cliffs of Moher

The quaint sweater shop and pub that we went to in Doolin!!! Oh it was adorable!!!

My FAVORITE pub in Ireland!

The original Claddach shop!

I love Ireland and I would go there again in a heartbeat!

I am currently sitting in my room at 12:20am. I feel like a pregnant walrus. I just ate overcooked Easy Mac like a boss in the kitchen downstairs with Kens and Adrienne and I am almost positive that I have never felt sexier in my entire life. After coming back from Das Boot (a bar called Café Notre that everyone goes to after class to drink from glass bottles in the shape of a boot) around 11, I knocked on Adrienne’s door only to see Kens rolling around on the bed with one boot on her foot and Adrienne struggling to pull it off while trying to put on pajama pants at the same time. I love my housemates. Needless to say, I joined the party as we talked about the ridiculous things that had happened over Toussaint Break.

London: (Travel Scale: 9)

It’s Halloween. Our group of 6 is staying in a hostel in London. We are all stuffed into a room of 6 beds with only 4 lockers. The beds, sprinkled with love stains, are bunked and there is only enough room in the room for two girls to tip-toe around at a time. Hostel for ants? I think so. And how could I forget the awkward locks that refused to lock? Despite the awful hostel and losing my adapter/sandals/ umbrella, London was probably one of my favorite cities.

Golden leaves, mixed with morning dew, scattered the sidewalks of London. Every time you took a step, it felt like you were walking through mountains of Special K cereal that had been sprinkled with only a couple tablespoons of milk. Odd comparison, I know but that’s all I want for breakfast tomorrow so I can’t really think about anything else right now.

Men hustle around the city in their tweed vests, wool ties, hats, trench coats, and tortoise-colored framed glasses that reminded me of Johnny Depp in Secret Window. Of course they had a newspaper in one of their hands and briefcase in the other. The children are dressed to the 9s and the dogs frolic the streets but always stay loyally close to their owner. The metro system is one of the most simplistic yet efficient ways of getting from one part of London to the other. It’s called the Oyster. …I still don’t know why it’s called the Oyster, but it is. It’s a simple pre-paid card that you purchase and use for every time you get on and off the metro. The only problem with this great metro is that you sweat like a pregnant mama giving birth to her baby child every time you get down in the tunnels. 2 Seconds before the tube halts in front of you a strong, awkwardly moist gust of wind slaps you in the face yet you can only appreciate it because it’s the only form of “air conditioning” that they have. So you squeeze on this wet worm and hold your purse like you are in Rome. There are signs everywhere that warn you of all the pick-pocketers...only this time, I can actually read it because it’s in English! Such a relief to travel where people understand you and you do not have to spend hours trying to explain yourself over a pointless game of charades.

Out of the kindness of her heart, Adrienne bought me tickets to the musical called Wicked. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Perhaps. So we attend this wonderful musical while Kens, Tristan, Matt, and Brooke go on a haunted tour around London. We meet up in the city center only to see that there are so many people who are dressed up as goblins and murderers than sluts and naughty professors. I am completely serious. I was in shock when I saw these beautiful women in conservative vampire costumes (I…don’t know if there is such a thing as a “conservative vampire costume” but their tatas were not hanging out and their behinds were fully covered and the black knee-high boots did not come out to play that night) and a couple droplets of fake blood splattered across their face. Where are the playboy outfits? Whips and chains? Whip cream and chocolate syrup? ...wait, am I going overboard? Nonetheless, London women do not celebrate Halloween like American women...that's all I have to say about that.

Other highlights of London?...

We went to Parliament and saw politicians rip apart one another. They covered everything from Drug policies to Afghanistan yet nothing seemed to get accomplished. People took personal jabs and never thought to find solutions to these multiple problems that were brought up. Instead, they continued to blame one another and other countries for all the problems.
As I began to doze off to a much needed nap, I saw people leave from House of Commons and a new group of people come in. Then I remembered a face that I saw on the London newspaper. OH! HEY THERE GORDON BROWN. No big deal that we were sitting above the British Prime Minister as he spoke about Tony Blair as the next EU President... no big deal. All I kept thinking was... "is this real? no way jose would Obama mama be standing a couple feet away from me." I could not help but stand there in awe and watch this man get completely obliterated by all of his opponents and laugh at their witty remarks. It is absolutely baffling. These men would banter and then elbow their friends sitting next to them and encourage them to say more negative things to Papa Brown.

Ireland (Travel Scale: 7... only because I almost got blown off the Cliffs of Moher)

So I met a tall, dark, and handsome Italian man in Ireland. I mean, he's only 6'2" with an athetlic body and rock hard abs... but it's not like he's gorgeous with a killer smile or anything like that. He stayed at the same hostel as all of us but trying to find work in Dublin. He goes to the University of Pisa and is taking a year off to travel. Comes from a small town in Italy and his favorite team is Florence's futbol team. We exchanged numbers and were supposed to meet up at a later time because I had plans to come to Italy and he had plans to come to Los Angeles but unfortunately, ... because God probably wants me to become a bitter old cat woman, I realized when I was on the bus to Dublin that I forgot to give him my country code so now the only way he could ever find me is if he facebooked "Jessica, Los Angeles"...and I'm pretty sure that's a lost cause. So I am alone and my life is gloomy until I find my next possible European lover... (which I met in Prague during our pub crawl...he's from Aberdeen, Scotland...but we'll get to that in a later entry).

Doolin, Ireland. If I were to ever go back to Ireland, it would be to revisit that beautiful town. You have to walk a couple miles to get to the nearest pub but it is absolutely worth it. On your walk to the pub (which serves Guinness on tap and makes the BEST stew and apple pie) there are endless green hills and cows staring you in the face. Matt and I counted the number of rainbows on our way from Ennis to Doolin--8. Absolutely magnificent. This town is what you imagine when you first think of Ireland. I wish I could go back. Dublin was far too developed and Galway was mediocre and not aesthetically pleasing. Speaking of Dublin, the first sight that we see when we get out of the train station? A women and a man beating another man on the side of the street. They beat him so ferociously that you could hear the man's fist crunch his bones... then you walk a couple more blocks to run into a worker's protest with angry middle-class men and women with their charcoal-tinted teeth complaining with their homemade posters. It could be that Dublin didn't make the best first impression and my thoughts are forever tainted or it could have been that I was unbelievably hungry when I got off the train ride so I could not think of anything but my next meal but either way, unless you are going to Dublin to take the Guinness Brewery tour, it is not worth it--go to the quaint Irish towns instead.

One beautiful thing that I learned about the people of Ireland--not only do they have gorgeous dogs with long, ruby-colored hair but they are uncommonly kind. They go out of their way for you to be comfortable and never have I ever been somewhere in Europe where I could have a relaxing time the way that I did in Ireland.

I still have postcards that I have not mailed from my trip to Berlin... I have to go finish those. Hm. I will leave you with this adorable quote from my mom.

"did you have lots of fun at Vienna and Prague? you didn't get hurt or stolen? you are my prayer. did you update your blog yet? Love Mommy"

She's the cutest.

Missing home,

B-Land

2009-10-27T01:34:00.000-07:00

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.

Brain-Raped.

2009-10-20T11:22:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-10-15T04:06:00.000-07:00

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…

Gimme Some Brownies

2009-10-13T07:39:00.000-07:00

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! :)

Construction

2009-10-05T04:34:00.000-07:00

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.

Nutella On My Hands

2009-09-27T11:16:00.001-07:00

Photos first.

Battlefield of Verdun

HUGE canon, nbd.

Memorial for the unknown soldiers.

Champagne tasting in Champagne!

I would have gladly become an alcholic for this.

Champagne since 1874!!!

Oh hey french cutie pouring the bubbly. I totally took this photo for you Lilli.

SO... there was a contemporary art exhibit... that had this huge stash of Nutella so of course I had to make love to it. obvi.

Group picture!

In Reims, France!! Oh it was gorgeous!

The stained glass.. I could have sat inside and stared at it forever...

The angels...

I am in my room on a Sunday morning skyping my dear friend Mitch who is getting over the swine flu while hearing whispers in Adrienne's room. Whispers do not make friends. Kidding, Adrienne and Pumpkin are making day plans while I'm in my room being anti-social. But most importantly, I'm here on a Sunday morning. I have missed sleeping in, rolling over to see that my alarm clock will not go off in an annoying buzz because I have nothing significantly important to wake up for. There is this apple festival that Pumpkin and I were supposed to go to but we decided that buying a baguette, shampoo, and turkey at the nearest market was far more important than binge eating on apple pie. I think there is a point in your life when you feel like you have ballooned up like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and you have the need for a serious detox... or is that just me?

Paris?

Here is the update:

I am in love. Who needs a man when you have a sea of beautiful men walking the streets in their leather shoes, dress suits, and suave hair? Staring into their hazel eyes when you're standing almost too close to them on the metro... well, there is no such thing as being "too close" when you're in Paris. People used to tell me that I shouldn't visit Paris because it was over-rated--thank god I didn't listen because I have never had more fun in my life. Not only is it a gorgeous city but the people are insanely nice, considerate, and... I just love the craziness of the city. I was standing at the market in front of the sandwich section trying to figure out what was in the mystery sandwiches... when I looked to my right to see a woman in her twenties reading the labels on the pasta... so of course I crept over and tried my best at the little French I did know. I told her it was a pleasure to meet her (she looked so confused and a bit scared) and then I asked her to help me in the bread (yeap. That’s what I said). She looked at me, giggled, and told me she spoke a little bit of English but I really should stop trying to speak French because I definitely said a couple derogatory words. Oops. So we stood there as she told me about the store, the sandwiches, desserts, the fact that there was flan in the store, where she worked, where I could get some cute shoes in Paris, and after our conversation next to the sandwich section, she plopped a seat next to me and we ate lunch together. I introduced her to my wonderful friends that I was with and she began to tell me about her life. Her name was Valerie, but it sounded so much cooler because she said it with a french accent. She explained the train and metro system to me and said that I made a good decision on the flan (obvi.). I think the most beautiful thing about meeting new people is the never ending exchange of smiles and polite jokes.

So yes, people are trendy, nice, and gorgeous. However, they are only polite and friendly if you make the effort to smile at them and give them the time of day... but isn't that the same with every person? You make time for what you think is important.

Which brings me to relationships. I know, I'm supposed to be talking about Paris but I'll get to it, I swear. If you don’t want to read it, just skip this paragraph. Anyway, I was at a pub with my dear Pumpkin and Switz when we had this heart to heart about relationships. Of course. And it dawned on me that men will pursue you and take time of out of their busy day if they want to. If they don't, they're not worth thinking about. Harsh? Oh hell no, I was being gentle. (hah that's what he said. whoops) I remember meeting this guy, let's call him george for now,...so I met George at orientation freshman year in our small groups and I remember thinking, oh my god what a cutie. But of course, I never talked to him because he made me nervous. Most guys I have a crush on make me nervous and I somehow become insanely quiet. Why do I do this? No idea. Anyway, he was nice, quiet, and very handsome. And quiet men always intimidate me for some reason. I think it's because they reminds me of my dad--he's absolutely hilarious once you get to know him but he only opens up to the few people he trusts and building up his trust takes a while. Hm. That's probably why men who are too loud and crazy are not attractive to me. They only speak to hear themselves talk but they never seem to have anything significant to say. They never have the wit or intelligence to keep an ongoing conversation after the second or third time. Ouch. Buzz kill. Anyway, George. We hung out several times and since all of my friends were friends of his, I would always run into him on the weekends. I remember it was about two weeks before school was about to end and he had multiple projects due on Thursday and he was in a competitive sport so he had to practice as well. And I thought, well, I guess this is it. Nice knowing you, I'll see you when I get back from Lux. But I got a text in the afternoon and asked to meet later that night. (Sober/afternoon texts are oh so sexy) It was actually at the library because in Oxford, that's my main hangout spot--pathetic, but I've come to accept it. So he came to hang out for a second while I was studying. His eyes were absolutely bloodshot and he was wearing the same clothes from the day before because he had been working on these projects for days straight. He smiled and said it was okay because he took a Five Hour Energy. He hadn't eaten dinner and it was 10pm. I probably would have shot a turkey if I hadn't eaten a meal for as long as he did. But I couldn't help but appreciate him because he could have easily gone home and slept instead of walking over to King. I just find it so funny because guys always say "sorry I couldn't call you babe, I was busy" but the truth is that there was something more important than you that he had to do. Whether it be another girl or a project, same difference. I think girls have this romantic idea in their head that they can change a guy they are dating. Try and find their prince charming within this less-than-mediocre guy. When in reality, you should probably stop wasting your time and find someone who you don't have to change. You should want to play mario cart with him and binge eat on gummy bears with him, you shouldn't reprimand him for being a sloth and always staying in and eating sugary foods. You should find a good balance with the guy you're with. Women in college always lower their standards because they think there isn't anything better out there. But there is. I was always so embarrassed for never having had a boyfriend in my life but then I thought about it and realized that if I tried to begin a relationship with them for the sake of being in a relationship, I would have been in one by now and it definitely wouldn't have been worth it. Guys will make time for you if they think you're important enough and if you're not then you really need to move on. Don't stand around waiting for a text message that he'll never send, go out and meet new people because in reality, the guy that you meet by chance because you went out to get your mind off of this other pompous ass guy will probably be the one that you end being in a phenomenal relationship with. Life is always about taking chances and random encounters and if you don't put yourself out there then you'll live a life without excitement... and that's just boring.

Okay. Paris. Kait, Pumpkin, and Phoenix took the entire day visiting the Arc de Triumphe, Louvre, Eiffel Tower, and shopping. It was brilliant. We found this hole-in-the-wall vintage shop with the most gorgeous belts, boots, coats, and dresses! Oh Paris! You make my life. And then when we got back to Kait's apartment exhausted and ready for a nap. But of course, we had a couple bottles of wine and champagne ready for us. So instead of napping, what did we do? Opened up all the bottles and had ourselves a party. Then headed out to a discotech in the beautiful city of Paris. I wore the skankiest, tightest, black dress with the new black shoes I had bought and I thought to myself... how nice, I won't see anyone I know and I could have myself a ball tonight. Oh the freedom. :) We never really made it to the discotech but the journey was a blast. There isn't anything/anyone to dress up for in Luxembourg so I wear my sandals everyday and I feel like sasquatch going to class. I can never wear dresses when I travel on the weekends because my backpack always makes my dress ride up and before I know it, there is a panty-preview showing for the public. I guess that's another reason why I loved Paris. I was never rushed to get ready because it was a group of girls, taking their time to look nice and get ready. Dresses, heels, and curled hair... oh I loved it.

Pumpkin just came downstairs from her room and moon walked across my floor. Hahaha I love her.

Speaking of Pumpkin, she recorded this video on her camera of sautrday night in Paris when I was passed out on the bed and she was washing my face and taking the Nutella off my hands/face. Because of course, we had a conversation over Nutella and pretzels that I vaguely remember and I was so frustrated with Pumpkin that I stuck my entire fist with my miniature pretzel in the bottle of Nutella and I ended up having Nutella on my hands and face. Being the great friend that she is...she took a good 20 minutes to take off the nutella from every crevice I managed to put on my body. She’s the best.

Reims, France

Instead of going to Oktoberfest, we decided to go with the school to Reims, France. We went from the battlefield of Verdun to champagne tasting to a brewery at an abbey to a citadel. I was absolutely exhausted. Highlight? New friends, as always. At the last bar we went to, there was a group of three people sitting at the table next to us from Belgium. This woman named Virginie scooted on over and introduced herself and I instantly knew I was going to have a great night from there on. I mean, at the first pub there was a table to men sitting next to us that I began talking to but after about an hour the man sitting next to me was whispering French things into my ear and I got an awful feeling that if Kensie and I did let him and his friends buy us the drinks they insisted on getting us, it would not end up being a good night. At first, the girls thought it would be a good idea to make some new friends with the locals and I was all for it until the local started to get all up in my grill. The two men that sat at our table said they were 19 and 21. Booshit. The guy with the man satchel was probably telling the truth but the man sitting next to me with the aftershave that smelled like evergreen trees was most definitely in his 30's. Ugh. Kensie and I had a couple laughs while they taught me French and I played Charades. But it was at the last bar where I met my new facebook friend Virginie! She is in her early twenties, a psychologist, and lives in Belgium. She has these large, piercing blue eyes that become enormous when she gets excited. She was fabulous. We got along so well that we exchanged information and promised each other that we would meet up again if she ever came to Ohio or Los Angeles and if I ever went to Belgium again. Apparently there is supposed to be a huge festival coming up? Is it time for the party pants to come out of the closet again? Oh yea. ;)

Now I’m listening to the Postal Service thanks to Phoenix for letting me steal her music. J Our classical music class is flying to Venice on Wednesday until Sunday to explore the tranquil city. We learn about it in class and go on class trips to the places we’ve learned about. I know, it’s awesome. Why Venice? Because it’s the heart of music during the Baroque period. Not to mention our professors here are so sweet. We spent Saturday night getting one of the business professors hammered because it was his birthday. By the end of the night he was slurring his words and smoking a cigar. It was classic. Then there were other nights when I went out to dinner with my American Studies professors and had a beer or two. Oh but my music professor is the best. He made me this great cd with 20 of his favorite piano concertos and I just laughed because only in Luxembourg will your professor call you “sweetheart” and say “oh I will keel you” if you start talking when he is lecturing. Oh he’s great. Shoot, I have to start my AMS paper. Au Revior mon cheri!

Nutella On My Hands

2009-09-27T01:32:00.000-07:00

Paris?

Here is the update:

Pumpkin just came downstairs from her room and moon walked across my floor. Hahaha I love her.

Reims, France

Instead of going to Oktoberfest, we decided to go with the school to Reims, France. We went from the battlefield of Verdun to champagne tasting to a brewery at an abbey to a citadel. I was absolutely exhausted. Highlight? New friends, as always. At the last bar we went to, there was a group of three people sitting at the table next to us from Belgium. This woman named Virganee scooted on over and introduced herself and I instantly knew I was going to have a great night from there on. I mean, at the first pub there was a table to men sitting next to us that I began talking to but after about an hour the man sitting next to me was whispering French things into my ear and I got an awful feeling that if Kensie and I did let him and his friends buy us the drinks they insisted on getting us, it would not end up being a good night. At first, the girls thought it would be a good idea to make some new friends with the locals and I was all for it until the local started to get all up in my grill. The two men that sat at our table said they were 19 and 21. Booshit. The guy with the man satchel was probably telling the truth but the man sitting next to me with the aftershave that smelled like evergreen trees was most definitely in his 30's. Ugh. Kensie and I had a couple laughs while they taught me French and I played Charades. But it was at the last bar where I met my new facebook friend Virganee! She is in her early twenties, a psychologist, and lives in Belgium. She has these large, piercing blue eyes that become enormous when she gets excited. She was fabulous. We got along so well that we exchanged information and promised each other that we would meet up again if she ever came to Ohio or Los Angeles and if I ever went to Belgium again. Apparently there is supposed to be a huge festival coming up? Is it time for the party pants to come out of the closet again? Oh yea. ;)

Paris, France!

2009-09-23T02:20:00.000-07:00

I should be studying for a french quiz and finishing my photocollage for my art class but... my mom sent me the cutest e-mail and asked me to put up photos so she could look at them with my dad so of course I had to put down my notecards for a second and post these... I'll write about my many adventures at a later time. :)

SO after traveling from train to train and city to city after 10 hours of confusion and frustration, we finally get to Kait's apt... and she opens the blinds... and we see this. I just about cried. How beautiful is that??? It sparkles every hour and we arrived exactly at 11pm. Thank you so much Kait, you made my experience in Paris absolutely amazing. :)

The Eiffel Tower at night from our room!

Waking up to this view... gorgeous.

Picture in front of the ET with my pumpkin!

Po. hahah So glad we all have such cute nicknames ;)

Kait!!! Only the most beautiful girl I know...

In front of the Eiffel Tower!!

Hey there, thetas at the Eiffel Tower!

Group pic in front of Arc de Triumphe

Climbing up the stairs of Arc de Triumphe.

Group pic with the Eiffel Tower in the background. standard.

At the Louvre!

Oh hey there Venus

In front of the Louvre!

Shopping in Paris!

Our bff Leslie.

If only people knew what we were looking at...

Walking to the discotech... the view of the Eiffel Tower from the bridge!!!!! BEAUTIFUL!!!!

The reflection of the lights on the river... perfect. I want to live here.

Notre Dame!!! So sweet

You know, just hanging out.

I have so many awkward single pictures... this is one of many.

The rose <3

Adios!

Bruges, Belgium

2009-09-14T02:15:00.000-07:00

I have not shown you a photo of my family in Lux yet so I thought this photo was necessary before all the other pictures from Belgium!

Kens, Phoenix, Jeanny, I!

Cherry Beer!

When we finally arrived at the Celtic Pub!

My lover and I skipping down the streets of Bruges

Adrienne's Birthday!!!

In the town square--Bruges, Belgium!!! I LOVE my housemates!

Our canal ride through Bruges!

Looking out at the bell tower in Bruges!

My first Belgium waffle!

The beautiful girls that we went with!

The gorgeous homes along the river :)

Haha The Baby and Papa Guinness

Our hostel room!

The guys of the wonderful group we went with!

Apparently Bruges, Belgium is the most romantic city in the world? And I'm single? nbd. nbd. One big thing I have noticed is that European couples are all about PDA. The couples remind me of my freshman year of college when I was coming home from Miami and I had not seen my parents in 3 months... the second the plane landed in LAX, I already had my backpack on, ready to go. I ran from my gate, pushing every child, senior citizen, and rolling backpack out of my way to slide down the escalator to find my parents waiting for me at the bottom with flowers and my best friend hiding behind a pillar to surprise me. I was SO happy that I started to cry. I feel like European couples act that way every time they see each other, whether it be for a coffee break or a sweet reunion. Make out sesh in the middle of the street? Traffic can wait but your hormones can't. Obviously.

So our group of 11 safetly found our way to the city of love. Lake of Love? Oh yea, they have one. Swans and all. I wish the photos could give the city justice, but there is so much more. The smell of Belgium waffles while you're on a boat flowing through the city. The flashing lights with the rave music at the European bar. The European men who slick back their dark, thick, black hair and lean their arms ever-so-gently on the railing while skimming the crowd of girls who are drunkenly swaying with the music at the club. The bells that chime every hour from the bell tower in the middle of the city square. The taste of a crispy waffle--a bit crispy on the outside but warm and doughy on the inside. The mist that grazes your face when you wake up in the morning and open the windows. Awkwardly trying to fit a party of 11 at a small, quiet, sit-down restaurant. And of course, the feeling of coming back into your room after a phenomenal night and smiling yourself to sleep.

Yes. I am homesick. But does that mean I will skimp out tonight at Das Boot to celebrate my friend's birthday? Oh no no no. I am putting on my party pants tonight, baby.

2009-09-13T11:13:00.001-07:00

I think there is grease spewing from every pore of my body. I have eaten fries with almost every meal and I am pretty sure that most of my meals are fried or made with 10 cups of butter. Yum.

Anyway, I am back from Bruges. I was starving and cranky so Kensie, Adrienne, and I went to (big surprise...) a kabob restaurant. I had a midget-sized bite of my fried chicken sandwich, came back to my new home and chugged water. Then I went on Blackboard to check my e-mails and facebook to untag all tagged photos of me from this weekend (my God I hope my group has pity on me and doesn't tag me). To sum everything up, I basically cried like a newborn baby when I started to read the messages from my friends and family. Even before I knew I was homesick, my friends and family knew wrote me insanely long letters/messages to comfort me because they knew it was coming. I know, I know I should be having fun and not being such a downer but I am so used to calling/ seeing/ texting/ talking them so often that when I can't update them on the best hot chocolate I have ever had in my life, it doesn't feel the same. I hate that Luxembourg is 9 hours ahead of California and that every time I go to sleep, everyone is just waking up. I purposefully stay online later than I should to talk to my best friends but it still doesn't seem like enough. I miss all the hugs, uncontrollable laughter, and eating until I need to be rolled off my bed and into my car to get more frozen yogurt. My parents, who are the funniest, cutest, and undoubtedly the most wonderful people on this Earth call me on skype just to say hello and hear my voice everyday. Ugh. I miss them.

I am sorry I am on a sap-trip right now but I feel like my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces... over and over and over again. This is enormously different in comparison to moving to Ohio. I could immediately call my friends and family any time of the day and it wouldn't matter because it would only be a three hour difference. I would constantly get surprise packages from my friends with letters and gifts and I would feel whole again. But here? There is no solution. I was talking to a couple friends on the train back from Bruges and we were discussing our family and parents. When they asked me what my parents were like I said "they're nice" and dazed off in to space ...oh, but there is so much more. I thought that if I told them all the funny little things they have done and how great they are then I would start to cry because I miss them so much. And that would be awkward. Especially when it's three guys. super awk.

Now on to the personalized dedications... because I know you guys are probably the only ones who read my blog <3>

Patti- You're the best sister that anyone could ever ask for. I used to think you were brutal because I was such a dreamer but your honesty has helped me see things in a new light--things are attainable, never impossible if I take the right steps and do the hard work to accomplish them. You are always here to talk and make jokes, even when you're always thousands of miles away. I know we don't talk about our feelings because you're not "gushy" but I LOVE YOU!!! oh and I got you the sweetest lace bookmark ever. :) I'll mail it to you asap.

Steph--I love you so much. It makes me so sad when I read your messages and realize that I cannot call you and leave 7 minute voice messages about Jim's horchatas. 21 choices? Beach trips? Going to depressing Holocaust museums together? Hahha I miss it already. I can tell you everything and trust that I will never be judged. I am confident that I never have to try and be someone else because I already have people like you who have accepted me exactly as I am. Moist toes and all. :) I cannot wait to see you during Christmas break and eat cake with black dye so we look like zombies and then binge eat some more with greg while he gives us financial advice. HA! I cannot wait to see you again! Please don't cry!!!!!!!!!! It'll be like the time when I first left to Miami and we had a cry fest at the airport when I was leaving and people thought we were lesbian lovers (they wish) and my parents got really awkward because we were making it seem like I was leaving forever to South Africa. :) I love you dawgy dawg :)

Lilli- Uhm. Your awkward hugs are the best!!!!!!!!!!!! Hahahah I laughed out loud when you left because I thought "I can tell her anything about everything but when it comes to hugs, ... no." I MISS YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!! You are hilarious. People meet you and think you are quiet and meek but GIRRRRRRRRRRRL I know how you really are and I love it. I wish I could visit you every day and have some more fun and rowdy nights at USC ;)You are so thoughtful and I love that over the years we have only gotten closer. :) I hate that I can't text you every second of the day. Do you know how depressing it is that I get out my phone on the train to text you but realize that I cant send 9-page long text messages? Real depressing. I bought you a little surprise in Bruges and I want to mail it to you but I feel like it's going to be a thousand dollars to ship it slash it's REALLY heavy. I hate that we can't mail each other packages all the time, it's no fun. I am creeping you on facebook right now...expected. i love you! :) hehe

Now on to my trip to Bruges, Belgium!!!

Absolutely beautiful.

Just kidding. My sister is on skype so I am going to creep and call her. I'll update this asap.

Settling In

2009-09-06T13:51:00.000-07:00

Finally getting settled in Bettembourg, Luxembourg. I am still a little jet lagged but trying so desperately to hide it. So many things have happened in the past couple days I don't think I have enough time to write them all before I go to bed (first day of class tomorrow and I have to catch an early train). 1) french guy puked in front of me and it splashed all over my jeans 2) tripped over myself and almost fell off a castle 3) water has been replaced with beer and wine... i don't know how I feel about that 4) planning our weekend trip (Kensie, Adrienne and I)... trier, Paris, or cologne? depends

Too tired. Here are some photos. I want a burrito and no more damn sausages and fries.

In front of Lux City

An alley in Lux City

The Grund

The view from the tower of a castle in Northern Luxembourg

Thetas in Luxembourg

I despise sausage and fries

Thoughtful Thursday

2009-08-27T11:25:00.000-07:00

I was packing for lux this morning (4 more days!!!!!!!!!) when I hear a knock on the door... I see my dad approach the door with a spoonful of rice in his mouth, drinking coffee (awfulcombination). It turns out to be the UPS man so my dad signs the electronic gadget, eyes the box to find that it has my name on it. He chucks the huge box at me and says "your sister buys you too many things" and goes back to drinking his coffee. Ah, I love packages! So I plop on the floor and rip the package open like it's Christmas to find 1) neck massager for the plane ride 2) fuzzy toe-socks 3) an intense voltage/converter 4) $500 in travelers checks. HOLY SHIT. My sister called me a couple days ago and told me to keep my eyes out for package but I seriously thought she was going to send me some underwear and peanut butter so this was far beyond anything I had imagined. My parents are right, my sister is way too nice to me and definitely buys me too many things. Thank you Patti, the package was honestly so so SO thoughtful and wonderful and I'll make sure to wear those toe socks on the plane and make good use of the neck massager!!!

Photos...

The "bon voyage" card my sister drew with highlighters

Classic Toe-socks

Close-up of the girl with the neck massager. Thought it was necessary.

$500 & 7-piece voltage /converter

I'm off to eat some Thai food for lunch! Yum!

SEND ME LETTERS!... please? :)

2009-08-24T23:38:00.000-07:00

I can't give you the address to my host family ...because she would probably be really annoyed and confused so I have to give you the address to my school! Please send me letters/ postcards /packages / love notes ;) And if you want me to send you letters/ postcards/ packages/ love notes then e-mail me your address and I will gladly send you some mail! :)

jeonjs@muohio.edu-- e-mail address

Address-- Do NOT shorten anything or it will not go to the right place!!!

Jessica Jeon

c/o Dolibois European Center

Chateau De Differdange

1, Impasse du Chateau

L-4524 Differdange

Grand Duchy of Luxembourg

Party Ponchos

2009-08-23T02:28:00.000-07:00

Spotted @ Target.

Really?? One size fits all? Highly doubtful.

Even though this raincoat is absolutely hideous, I feel like I would really love it if I was slightly inebriated/felt like being annoying and yelling "PARTAY PONCHOOOOooo TIME!!!!" the whole night.

I remember my mom bought me something like this in elementary school with matching yellow rainboots. Despite the fact that I would have to wear 3 layers of clothes underneath the raincoat... she still insisted that I "bundle up" in the 65 degree weather. Why not wear a wind/rainproof jacket? Hm, I don't know. Instead I sloshed around looking like an overfed canary in the rain. Always appreciated.

REI

2009-08-22T14:35:00.001-07:00

Went to REI to buy a couple things for Lux and I found my mom in the luggage section trying on several "passport pouches". hahah She's the best

Midnight munchies

2009-08-16T00:48:00.001-07:00

I saw my dad salivating over the take-out that I ordered tonight and I told him I already ate dinner so he would eat it without feeling guilty... now I'm here...12:19am, starving.

I thought, why not make this awful experience educational? I decided to translate a couple foods that I am craving... into french... you know, for later reference.

fried chicken- poulet frit

vanilla ice cream- vanille crème glacée

churros-...nothing

pizza- pizza (boring..)

steak- bifteck

milkshake- ...nothing, should have known.

wine- vin

peanut butter- beurre d'arachide

apple- pomme

sausage- saucisse

butter- beurre

olive oil- huile d'olive

bread- pain (whyyy is the translation for the most basic, beautiful food 'pain'?)

mango- mangue

crisp (if you're talking about a biscuit)- croustillant

cornbread- la farine de maïs

coffee with milk- cafe au lait

toast- paine grille

squid- calmar

spinach- épinard

soup- soupe

salmon- saumon

lobster- homard

fudge/toffee/caramel-caramel

Lilli: guys do not satisfy the way food does.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

I think my dad is making me a midnight snack. Goodnight!

Je veux du poulet frit et de la bière...

2009-08-15T20:12:00.000-07:00

Languages down? English. Korean. Conversational Spanish.

Problem: out of those three, neither of them are French nor German. The people of Luxembourg speak French, German and Luxembourgish (a mix of the two) and I know none of those three languages. In attempts to smoothly transition into a non-English speaking country, I thought I should try and teach myself French. I mean, that's the least I can do.

I bought a "french conversational" cd that I listen to in my car and a French and English Dictionary...but I cannot seem to properly pronounce anything. French seems to have such a throaty feeling to it... every time I try and say something, I feel like I'm coughing up a loogey. That sounds disgusting, I know. But that's how I sound trying to speak French. The only phrases that I have memorized so far are "hello", "sorry", "do you have fried chicken and beer?", and "bathroom?". I thought I should memorize the important phrases first.

Oh and the funniest thing about trying to teach yourself French? You get a variety of stares while you're stopped at a red light. I was repeating numbers 1-10 to myself when I looked to my right and saw this cute businessman (late 20's, perhaps) in his champagne-colored BMW wildly staring at me while I looked like I was talking to my radio.

Another awkward moment?

I was trying to order my McFlurry. The man on the friendly McDonalds speaker kept asking me to repeat my order... and I just thought to myself "really?? McFlurry with Reeses. Not that hard. You want me to crawl in there and make it for you?" Then I pulled up to the window and he seemed utterly confused/disappointed when the person who pulled up was a petite asian girl and not some smolerding blonde whispering sweet nothings to him in French. I know, I'm such a McTease. ;)

au revoir!

Side Note

2009-08-07T13:15:00.001-07:00

I saw this in a magazine then on a blog... men in NY wearing leggings. They're called "meggings". hahaha I thought it was so cute I just had to post it! In my opinion, they look absolutely awful but at least they're more comfortable than skinny jeans. And and and, at least they are wearing something OVER their little wa-hoo's so it's not awkward for all of us who are taking a gander. I know this has nothing to do with Lux... but I thought it would be a good laugh. :)

photo from StyleSightings

The Hooker, the Transvestite, and the Middle-aged Mother

2009-08-07T12:49:00.000-07:00

I wrote a letter to my host family telling them about Adrienne, Kensie, and I...letting her know that how we met and became such good friends. :) Unfortunately, I didn't have a picture that I could attach at the time... so I used the markers that I had near me and drew a photo of all of us. From the illustration, Adrienne is a hooker, I am a transvestite, and Kens is a middle-aged mother. Hopefully she will understand that I am not the best artist and does not revoke our stay at her house after viewing my letter.

Thus far... I have packed...

Nothing. I am in denial that Luxembourg is only in two weeks! I received my beautiful waterproof Northface black Borealis backpack in the mail last week and I have been finding excuses to use it...even though there is no need to wear it to the market, I have. I go to the library more than anyone on summer break should. And the people at the Starbucks near my house probably wonder why I wear a huge backpack when the only thing I take out are my car keys, journal, and a reading book ...three things that I could have easily carried in a mini tote.

I think people assume I am on a constant mission. Hah. Well, they're right.

Introductions are always necessary.

2009-08-04T01:55:00.000-07:00

Hello! Welcome to my blog dedicated to eating& traveling. I am a third year student at Miami University of Oxford, OH and my best friends and I are traveling Europe for approximately four months under a study abroad program. We will be living with a host family in Bettembourg, Lux., attending class from Monday-Friday, and traveling to different countries on the weekends. Classes will be held in a nearby chateau and the poppin parties will probably be in LuxCity (from what i've heard).

I primarily made this blog for my friends and family at home who wanted to keep up with my travels and long, drawn-out stories. Besides, scrolling down and viewing photos is far easier on a blog than clicking one-by-one on facebook! And because bad luck seems to follow me like food coma follows a huge meal, I will have many interesting stories for you to read.

The game plan? So far, my friends and I have made a list of countries... some of which include: Germany, France, Greece, Italy, Czech Republic, England, Croatia, Austria, Switzerland, and possibly Ireland. The events? Okoberfest, baby. Shopping in Paris and Prague. Wine tasting in Italy. I'm sure there are more but I cannot think of them off the top of my head.

Anyway, this entry is getting too long but I will land on European soil on Sept. 2nd so look forward to stories and photo journaling around that time! Goodbye!