Sunday - October 2nd 2005

I spent almost five minutes on the drive to Ventura contemplating dying my hair black.

Sam and David both brought cheesecake to dance team practice, which meant that after the break everyone was too loopy to accomplish anything meaningful. Matt and I would space out in the middle of the routine and then dissolve into fits of laughter, which is unusual since Matt is usually serious about screwing up. Louise finally put together the ending poses, though was unhappy with the dip she had chosen for us couples in the back row. Jill suggested this dip where the lady ends up with her feet in the air, but after a few near-death experiences we all decided to figure it out on Tuesday.

Laura and I supervised childcare for the six o’clock service. I took some of the older kids to the park across the street, where a seven year old named Vera kind of freaked me out. “My dad can’t come to church, because he has to work he works in a car wash and it pays good money. It pays good money cause he’s the manager, he’s the manager of two carwashes and since it pays so good he can’t come to church, or see me very often. Only three days a week. So it’s good for the money but not for me cause I miss him. It’s been like this since I was in preschool.” What kind of kid says the phrase “It pays good money”? I would have responded to all this with sympathy, but she just kept going, talking about how she lived on a ranch and what horses she liked and so on. I’m used to dealing with younger kids I guess, because it struck me that before this age, kids are just little balls of chub, who sometimes resemble human beings, but around seven, you can tell just what kind of person they are going to be in high school, in college, and beyond.
As it started to get dark, I told the kids that we’d have to go in soon. Sierra called back from the sandbox that she wanted to finish something first. I said “OK,” thinking I was being a kind and magnanimous, but Vera was on my case. “Actually, you don’t have to let her finish, cause you are in charge. When you say it’s time to go, you can make us, cause you’re older.” Nothing like having your authority undermined twice on a Sunday evening.

As I wrap up an AIM conversation with Zulu, Sarah, sitting at her desk putting ointment on her tattoo, looks up and asks, “Abbey, have you ever been in love?”

the weekend was a flurry of familiar things... friday we had a game night at the barn, saturday rachel and charlie came down and we all saw colin do an admirable job in the monologue festival, followed by liana's surprise party at the barn (more games and laughing). i'm coming to discover that the couples are inescapable... kate and byng, liana and capra, sarah and keaton all are adorable and always together. it was in some ways comforting to play games with the normal crew, but ultimately scary, as i feel a bit like i've entered back into a world with fewer dimensions than the one i left in london... like my world view shrank back to the way it was, and my life has been once again whittled down to games and alias dvds. seeing rachel and charlie made me nostalgic for the past, but seeing them changed and talking about all the other changes made by our highschool peers left me with the same eerie feeling that has accompanied all aspects of my return to school.

i talked with ferdi online today and it was great to hear him share some of my feelings from when i was in london, and for me to understand his formerly being here without me. we're taking turns coming to the same conclusions, which is comforting. i miss him a lot, and am anxious to try out our relationship while we are both in the same location... to figure out how affectionate we'll be around friends, how often he'll come hang out at the barn, how we'll deal with the lack of privacy that plagues college living, how we'll interact on such a constant basis, learning to be civil and encouraging and whatever. i want not only to start to know him, but to start to know how to live with him... there is only so much one can gain from long distance coupleness.

aside from the subtle feeling of suspence that's been following me like a haze, i am doing okay... considering.  but really, when does one not consider? 

the latest from the barn is our new roommate, whose presence has been smelt for a few days now, but last night was made pungently apparent.  after hearing squeaking, knocking and the like from behind the wall (not to mention the debilitating smell) laura, kristin and i held an impromtu meeting at 5:30 am, where we reached an important conclusion about the matter:  "there's gotta be a skunk and/or something that has died hanging around in the utility closet."  pest control: called.  skunk trap: set.  in it's nest next to our water tank: ammonia poured and a radio that plays 90s alternative rock both set to deter our intruder.  it's nice, cause now when we use our bathroom, we can hear green day or whoever while peeing.  it makes me feel posh--like we have our own bathroom music.

so i've decided the postal service (the band not the federal institution) has magical powers, cause it is just that good.  sadly, i can't even get past the first four songs because i just keep repeating them over and over while i ride to campus or before i go to bed.  i love the thrill of new music that you get each new time you hear it... your body reacts just like it would before a first kiss, the anticipation, the compression in your chest, a moment shared in which you know what's going to happen next.  the postal service has it all: quick addicting beats, eerie beautiful male and female voices, poignant lyrics.  i really like the ideas in 'sleeping in,' especially as they relate to this short story by dave eggers.  both deal with a whimsically improved world in a really moving way. 

ok, so maybe i haven't been keeping up to date with this journal... it's kind of ironic yet inherently logical that the more stuff is happening the less time i'll have to write about it, but the more i'll get behind... it's quite dizzying really. did you know that i was recently told by two of my closest friends that i sound completely different when i'm writing compared to when i'm speaking? i knew this already, and it wouldn't have been so disconcerting if they hadn't been laughing uncontainably and making snide comments about how i get 'all profound and deep and stuff' when i express things on paper. oh well... i've accepted my verbal/social ineptness even if they still think it's funny.

wow... where to even start. okay, i'll start with laura. as was the plan, i picked her up from heathrow last monday (the one right before turkey day). she brought me banana bread and pictures and it was just so delightful to see her! i introduced her to whetherspoons and we saw st pauls together (aka the oldest stairmaster i've ever been on). i had to go to class on wednesday, so laura had made a plan to see westminster and big ben while i was making myself stupider in CORE. i got back home at 4:30 feeling less sick but nonetheless a little deteriorated. i open the door and am tempted to call 'honey i'm home!' instead laura calls from downstairs 'is that megan?' i confirm this and trudge down after losing a few layers and shoes in my room. as i walk into the kitchen i see laura on the closest couch, and on the further one a boy is sitting there.... it isn't one of my housemates.... he's wearing american eagle.... he looks a lot like.... it was ferdi. both he and laura had big smug grins on their faces. laura snapped a picture as my brain caught up and continued reeling in shock. i gave him a big hug and couldn't speak properly for the next few days. i have never been so surprised in my life. the three of us were generally lazy but still saw some london sights, like the tower of london and covent garden over the next few days. while i was worried about not neglecting either laura or ferdi, we had a great time and i was so glad to see them both. i think i'll be able to make it till christmas now.

on a more boring note i have two papers to write so i need to go do that. one is comparing the two movies 'my beautiful laundrette' with 'bend it like beckham' focusing on race and gender depictions in each film. the other is for literature and it is going to focus on relgions in london. so yeah, these ones will actually be fun.

so, working kind of backwards, monday i got back from my trip and tuesday morning i started and finished a 2000 word term paper due at 2pm that day. then i was pretty much out of it, and ended up falling asleep in my bed with my clothes on. today i had class, and spent more time on facebook and looking up lyrics online than i'd like to admit to.

but LAST monday, i left on my trip to switzerland. i was just sure that my planning had been inadequate or that something would be unaccounted for, but i made it to geneva without any fuss. at the airport, however, i had to come to terms with something i knew was coming. i went to the tourist counter and asked the lady there about train times. 'the next train for interlaken doesn't leave until tomorrow morning... you'll have to stay the night here in geneva.' luckily i had figured this out over the weekend and cancelled my first night at my hostel. i ended up staying at a cheap hotel upon her advice--a driver gave me a ride to the hotel and then back to the train station the next morning. the room that night was small... a double bed, a television, a framed picasso poster on the wall, a sink, thin walls... it was the best room i had ever seen! after living with between 2 and 7 people all the time, solitude was new and liberating. after grabbing dinner, i retreated to my room and wrote on my laptop and listened to the garden soundtrack in my underwear. every so often i'd get up and do a little dance, or raise my arms into a V for Victory.

the next morning i woke up at five and got to the train station by six. i caught the first train to interlaken. the announcements on swiss trains are amazing, because they have at least three languages spoken at every stop! and the languages change from region to region... french first in geneva, swiss-german first in interlaken, italian first in lugano, most times english was one of the languages, which made for less guess work when it came to stops. my first day in interlaken i checked into my hostel and then had a look around the town. it was pretty cold outside, which encouraged me to duck into shops more often. i bought a nice sweater, walked by the river, dubiously checked a mexican restaurant menu, and visited a shop that sold really nice cukoo clocks and swiss watches. i ate lunch and read my book, and then returned to the hostel room for a quick nap. the room had eight beds, some lockers, and a sink. on set of beds was so close to the door when it opened that i was sure the two would hit. as i slept some people came in to unpack their stuff. i rolled over and out of the corner of my eye saw a backpack with an austrailian flag on it, and its owner who was unpacking his stuff. later i went down to the restaurant/bar that was part of the hostel, but also apparently a 'hotspot' in the town for locals too. it had a separate name (the hostel was 'happy inn lodge') which was brassiere 17. i had dinner and was reading a book when i saw the austrailian guy at the bar. i smiled and he came over to sit with me. his name was daniel and he (like many austrailians i've met) is travelling for a few months, and in december is going to settle in london for two years, use his temporary work visa that austrailians get and make some good money before doing more travelling. we talked about where we'd been and different stuff, until two guys came up to the table with a question for daniel, who they had met earlier that day. both their names started with J (jacob? jason?) and they were both from texas. then a girl named melissa from florida who was travelling by herself came over and introduced herself. she had graduated college in the spring and had been travelling since september or something. she had been everywhere, and told some really great stories. that night all of us (the two guys, daniel, and melissa) all went out in search of a pool hall, but ended up at a 'nightclub' instead. this place was small, underground, and had star-patterned carpeted walls. we talked and they drank and it was a pretty fun time.

wednesday... paragliding day. i woke up and got ready, wearing three pairs of pants and a comprable number of shirts, and out of haste and lack of other options, went to mcdonalds for breakfast. while i was waiting for my chicken nuggets, the song 'cannonball' by damien rice came on the in the background. since it is a song that reminds me of ferdi, he was my first thought. my second thought was something menial, like 'i like the other version better than this radio version.' my third thought was, after listening to lyrics like, 'stones taught me to fly' and 'it's not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball' that this wasn't the best song to listen to before going up in the air. i get back to the hostel and learn that they want to go early, and have come by to pick me up. i pile into a professional looking van feeling like my breakfast is not in line with the Xtreme sports vibe, and looked around. there was a couple from austrailia and three instructors. they prepared us on the way up, by which i mean they provided us with extra clothes (for me, boots, and extra jacket, and ski pants), and had me sign a dinky waiver in pencil. when we got to the place where we were to take off from, we walked from the road over behind a farm house to a steep grassy hill. on either side of an assumed 'runway' were sticks with streamers attached to them for reading the wind. they rolled the parachutes out, and my guy turned to me and said, 'so you ready to go first?' i put on a contraption like a backpack meets portable seat, which was secured around me. then i got hooked up to the parachute, which my instructor hooked up behind me. his instructions were these: 'when i say so, run as fast as you can down this hill, and don't stop running till we're in the air. then sit down.' could it really be that simple? after waiting for the wind to be right, i found out that it was. the wind was really good, which meant we caught updrafts that took us about 300 meters above where we took off from. the wind was freezing against my face and hands, even though i had thick gloves on. the view was beautiful... the city was there at the foot of the mountains, a turquoise river weaving through it and the peaches and grays of the buildings appeared microscopic. the city ended at the huge lake, and the mountains loomed everywhere. turning back, we could see the beautiful green hills from which we took off, dotted with farmhouses and tall green and copper trees. we made our way up first, then back and forth over the hills, before drifting left and down so that we were over the city. as be slowly decended my instructor pointed out my hostel and his home,and even at one point took a call on his cell phone! right before the end we did some tricks and such, but my stomach was getting weak by that point, so we just prepared to land in a big grassy field about five minutes walking from the hostel. 'so how do we land?' i asked. 'when i say so, stand up.'

that night after a nap i had dinner with melissa, daniel, and a guy who daniel had met at oktober fest who was studying in switerland somewhere. after dinner we went out and successfully found a pool hall, where we played pool all night with a bunch of locals. i was out of practice but got better as the night went on.

the next day i was feeling a little off, so i mostly just stayed indoors, typing or reading. i only ventured out to eat lunch and to find a present for ferdi's dad and stepmom. i ended up in an italian store that sold wine, pastas, and other italian delicacies. after staring hopelessly at the wines on the wall, the guy who was working there suggested a white dessert wine, and then offered for me to try it. so i had a glass of it with one of these cookie/cake type desserts that he recommended with it. he said that there was a certain type of cake that was traditionally made this time of year in italy, and that this was the wine that went with it. i ended up buying the wine and the cookies, feeling relieved to have found something. at night daniel and i (we were the only two left) stayed at brassiere 17 and listened to a blues band play. the place was packed with locals and smoke, and it was so funny to hear the singer talk in german and then sing in english. at one point he declared (in english) 'this song goes out to president bush... it's called 'asshole.'' the next morning i got up and boarded my second swiss train... to lugano.

okay... more to come... and eventually i'll get back to that other trip i went on :0)

so i'm not done relaying my fabulous italian vacation, but i'd rather relate the last week that i've been back. so i will. cause this is my livejournal. and i'll do as i please :0)

ever since i've been back i've been recuperating. tuesday we had art history class, which is made fun by guy-chris' boyfriend curt. curt is the sweetest funniest guy you'll ever meet in your life. he and girl-chris and i just make jokes and are 'those people' who mutter the answers to our prof's questions under our breaths until he gets so annoyed at no one answering and says to us in frustration, 'well don't keep it to yourself!' i made my first substative contribution in that class when i analyzed a Hogarth history painting entitled 'the roast beef of (somethingorother)' and said that it depicted corruption in the catholic church. in that class i also learned, while looking at a politically symbolic portrait of an english maid plucking a turkey around 1776 that ben franklin wanted the turkey to be america's 'bird of choice' over the eagle... which is quite a remarkable thing to ponder! i mean, 'gobble-gobble' does have that american-capitolism ring to it, and can we really trust a bird (eagle) which does not have a generic equivalent of the noise it makes? chickens (cluck cluck)--trustworthy. emu (----)--unsettling.

wednesday we had a lot of class. 10-12:15... CORE CLASS! we got back our papers, mine ended with the line "We [women] still love to shop!" making it officially the cheesiest, worst essay ever written. i got a B equivalent. at two was section, where i was encouraged to write my term paper on the movie 'Bend it like Beckham' instead of on a (probably more intelligent) book dealing with the subject. then i had a makeup film class because our prof wont be there next week, and that lasted from six to nine. when i got home hanami coaxed me out and we joined skyler, nate, and aaron at a pub on GT Sutton street. hanami and aaron both ordered mushy peas (cause they were cheap?) and they were actually pretty good.

thursday the only thing of note is that a bunch of people were going to an 80s party, and so i ended up dressing curt in my jeans and a hot-pink shirt i got for a euro in a french thrift store, and he wore my blue rockport glasses to finish off the look. i stayed in to stare at my ceili---i mean, be productive.

friday i went to hammersmith and got a ride with ed to brookwood for paul's class. i found out that he is only teaching two more weeks after this, and then is moving on to toher things, which means he may be in london teaching, but who knows? i got to be his assistant for the intermediate class, where he taught hook whips and pivot whips, which were fun. we had some awesome dances as usual... so much fun!

saturday... is today! oh! some out of order things: monday night when i got back, i walked through the park on my way to the computer lab, and a bum started yelling at me that they had locked the gate on the other side. i believed him, but i kept walking, and so did this thirty-ish hugh grant-ish (i'm stretching it with the ish) businessman guy. so we both get to the gate and it is locked. we look at each other, and then we decide to jump the fence. he goes first, and then he helps me on the landing (this was funny in that it related to a story from paris which i will tell you someday). so now i can say i've had a notting hill moment, though without the whoopsy-daisies. that monday i talked to ferdi online, which made my week. i heard all about halloween, where courtney came up to party with my friends, and had a (good) talk with ferdi. okay, costumes: courtney was a cowgirl, laura was a detective, and ferdi (bless him) was richard simmons. later that week (wed?) i called the house early in the morning my time to see if ferdi was there, figuring there are plenty of people to talk to if he wasn't. capra answered and told me ferdi was out, but that laura was there. so i talked to laura, heard from keaton and redford, and that was nice.

okay... i'm tired! i'm true of heart! i'll write more later!!!

sunday we took a train to florence. we saw the David in all his marble glory (chris wouldn't stop talking about his cute ass). we parused a street market and wandered the city, before meeting up with kaaren's friend who is studying there. she took us to a restaurant where three of them tried 'Bruno's Special' named after a local priest. it consisted of family style three choices of pasta and then a platter of meat and potatoes for the second course. after dinner we went to the oldest standing bridge in... florence? italy? the entire universe? well anyways, it's old, and it survived a war, at which point the king? government official? heavenly messenger? declared that it should no longer be lined with venues for meat (which it was... there are little houselike structures all along it, making it look really cool from down the river), that now it should be a place where gold and jewelry is sold, and it still is today. we ate gelato and listened to a guy with a guitar who sang everything from Bob Dylan to 'Stand by Me' by whoever wrote that originally.

monday we got on another train to go to cinque terra. i had been told while getting ready that there would be mild hiking and that it would be probably raining. i packed my bathing suit (the girls all wore theirs but i'm not so much a triangle bikini top wearer, so my bulky tankini stayed in the bag.) when we got there it was absolutely stunning. the platform for the train was on the edge of a cliff,and right there at the bottom of the cliff was the mediterranean. on either side green hills sloped sharply towards the sea, and dirt paths wound up on either side in between the green of the grape vinyards. stone steps lead gently to the sea, and small boats were resting at every port. since there were five different towns that we hiked between, we came up with slogans for each one.

the first one, Riomaggorie (crap... i don't have the names or the slogans with me, so there will be butchering of both), had the slogan of 'vorrei un pezo di quello' (probably not spelled right) which means, 'i want a piece of that' in italian. i thought i would have been better if it could have meant 'break me off a piece of that,' but whatever.

the second, Ma_____, had the slogan 'slippery when wet.' after we wandered through the town (beautiful colorful houses and shops!) we went towards the water, where a cement incline allowed boats be to pulled in and out. julie says to me, 'megan, let's go touch the mediterranean... tee hee hee.' i think it's a super idea. i approach the water, keeping my eye on the green algie formed on the cement below the water. as i am eyeing it, i suddenly slip on what i thought was just wet concrete, and go down in the algie on the left butt cheek. i am laughing and one side of me is wet and aglified, but when i get up i realize that julie has fallen too, in fact, according to witnesses, we fell at exactly the same moment.

the third one (i'm giving up on names) has the slogan, 'Salute Bruno!' Kaaren's goal for this trip was to go wine tasting. while she had imagined large vinyards and facilites, we ended up in a tiny wine store testing three glasses from a guy named Bruno. the local wine was excellent (even i liked it), and he was great company.

okay... my head is telling me to write more later, cause i'm spent!

the next day we visited the borgeise museum in roma before leaving for siena. it was built in a mansion-sized building, and had three beautiful bennini statues, one of david, and two images from greek myth, the rape of persephone and one with apollo and that nymph who turns into a tree. the statues were amazing... the detail and life in each piece was great. the whole museum was the perfect size, and we were out by late morning. we lugged out stuff to the train station and made for siena. when we got there, kaaren had her directions in hand and was ready to lead. we boldly started walking towards what was supposed to be the stop for bus 95. we walked about a kilometer uphill on sidewalks that were strangely un-pedestrian, and then another 800 meters on a road with no sidewalks at all. we reached a bus stop and reevaluated our directions. this was not the stop. were we on the right street? is there another bus further down? we start walking again, and just as i am about to comment that it's funny that that building is addressed number 95, just like the bus, kaaren stops. 'i think this is our hostel guys.' the bus stop was at the train station. we took the walking directions. we all had a good laugh (except for chris who was pissy cause her suitcase weighed a ton... and just cause she's an unhappy person), and then kaaren checked us in. to our surprise and delight, they made a mistake with our reservation, so instead of getting a room with four beds, we got two rooms with double beds. i roomed with kaaren... our room had a wonderfully big bed with a comforter, a tv, a nice shower... after rome's accomodations we didn't know what to do with ourselves! we took a bus (not #95) into siena, and found a pizzeria to eat dinner at. afterwards we got gelato and walked around the cobblestone streets. it was such a beautiful city... i was immediately in love. clothes were hanging from small balconies and windows, stone arched in every direction, vespas zoomed through the narrow alley-like streets, the streets conformed to the rolling hills sending us up and down. 'i could live here' i thought, it really was a magical town. at the hostel we got our first good nights sleep, and in the morning apparently there was an arguement. i say apparently because i read a book and waited with the luggage while the three girls revised our plans and duked it out in the internet room. finally it was decided that we'd leave that day for florence, and on monday we'd take a day trip to cinque terra. i'll write more later... gotta get food before class.

okay, so last time i left off with the cistine chapel. well, after that excursion, we all separated for a few hours and reconviened at the Vatican Church out in St Peter's Sq. as we were being hearded towards the entrance surrounded by tourists from all over the world, daniel (chris' ex-boyfriend) said, 'the first time i came here i just stood at the threshold like i was stuck or something. i mean, this is the center of christianity right here... it's kind of a scary place to be.' well i made it over the threshold okay, but once inside i was struck dumb. the ceilings curve and arch so high above you... the whole interior is ornately (but not gaudily) covered with molds and statues and gold patterns that make the building glow. over the alter is a gazibo-like covering held up by four tall pillars, a dark structure which seems like it shouldn't fit inside any building because of its size. the whole place radiated power and grandness. they really did make a building that would communicate the power of God. at first i wondered (as i am prone to do) how many people could have been fed by the money it took to build this, but then i stopped, because that argument is unproductive and i began to wonder if maybe this place was necessary for the unity and power of the church... not that the religion is dependent on architecture and 'bling' to make it appealing, but that this building reflects the great love for God that people must have had to concieve it and create it. i mean, all this because a man died. i didn't speak for half an hour.

i noticed a huge number of priests taking seats on one of the side areas of the church (it is in a cross shape like most catholic churches, with the alter at the short end, and room for sitting on all other legs. i asked a security guard, and he told me a service was taking place within the hour. i told the others i was staying and got a seat in the long rows facing the alter, near to the center aisle. the program for the mass was in latin and italian, but was fun to interpret as best i could. there were processions of priests and cardinals and alter boys and a choir, and finally the Pope himself came down the aisle. a lot of people had their cameras and were clicking away, which i felt disheartened about. the singing was beautiful and they read from a passage of one of paul's gospels (i've yet to translate it so i don't know what exactly the passage was). the Pope had a few parts in te dialogue, but is old and so someone else did most of the service. i took communion and prayed, which was nice because i haven't been to church since i got to england. i've never really had an appreciation for the Pope, not being catholic or a fan of big political establishments, but i was really touched by how much this man must have given and sacrificed... how devoted he is. i can't really explain it but i was just really touched by the whole thing.

a week ago on wednesday afternoon, kaaren, julie, girl-chris, and i set off on our 12 day long vacation to italy/paris. after one last snack at the airport whetherspoons we jumped on an easyjet flight to roma. by the first leg of the trip, we already had a nickname for my luggage. it is referred to as "the motherlode." i took the largest suitcase i had instead of a backpack and smaller suitcase duo because the motherlode a) fit my coat b) had wheels. while at first the motherlode was mocked by doubtful covacationers, it has proved to not only be lighter than chris' bag (i'm a little smug), but also very helpful for carrying posters and other items purchased by the girls.

we were bundled up as we stepped off the plane in roma, only to find wonderfully warm weather, especially for it being dark outside. we found our way to the roman accomodations, aka crashing with the kids in the uc program. little did i know that this was not as a convenient option as it sounds! the first person i saw within the apartment complex was this guy named adam who had lived on my hall freshman year. after meeting julie and kaaren's friends and chris' exboyfriend, i inquired about and sought out mark (faceoff!)who was in the building as well. mark was studying on the couch and at first didn't recognize me, but after he realized who and where i was, we had a cute little reunion, talking about SB and his girlfriend and i got to tell him i'm dating ferdi. it was so nice to see someone from home. after this i meet the guy kaaren and i are staying with named brandon. the whole group of americans went out, and i had my first and last long island iced tea. that night i slept on a couch bed in the living room, although i was woken up at several points due to a bit of an overcrowding situation accumulating in the apartment. besides kaaren and i, there were also two girls travelling from prague, and the musical blankets left me a bit chilled and unrested.

the first thing we did in rome was colosseum and roman forum. the architecture and sheer size of these ancient sites was simply amazing. we got ripped off taking a tour through the colosseum where everytime the tourguide talked about the vestal virgins he pointed at me. we wandered back through rome after this and saw the pantheon. one cool thing about rome is the drinking faucets they have on many street corners, where natural spring water flows out and back into the ground through metal faucets. if you plug the bottom hole, a smaller hole in the top of the tube acts as a drinking fountain. that night i went to dinner and watched gladiator with mark, and spent the rest of the evening being silly with kaaren and julie before attempting to get a good nights sleep. tonight we were renting a penthouse apartment in brandons building, due to the fact that the ra had found out he had been illegally harbouring college aged tourists. kaaren and i snuggled into a double bed. at some point during the night a guy i didnt know yanked the comforter off of us, leaving us with a thin sheet. later, brandon came back and talked kaaren into sleeping outside with a bunch of them who were having a slumber party on the patio outside. the next time i woke up, there was (i kidd you not!) a guy wearing only boxer briefs sleeping next to me (jimmy, a friend of brandons who is also visiting, i find out later). this turn of events confused me, this being the first time i had ever "woken up next to a underdressed stranger" before, but i was too tired and bitter about not having a blanket to do much except for laugh about it the next day.

friday we went to the vatican museum and saw the cistine chapel, and maybe even more impressively, a hallway leading to it that had maps on the walls and the most ornate ceiling, painted and covered with gold moulding and statues... just astonishing. okay... this is where i have to stop the journaling for now... i am writing from an internet cafe in venice, and have to get back to some sight seeing! more later, you can count on it.

friday night i took matt dancing. he caught on ok for having no dance experience. paul thought he was hot. paul and i had a good dance to 'naughty girl' and matt and i had some good conversations on the way home--i told him about ferdi and he told me about frank. it's always nice to get to talk to people one on one and get to know them a little better.

saturday i went shopping for the ideal sweater but was unsuccessful. i did find a TGIFridays however and had jack daniel's chicken strips. saturday night i did nothing important, and ended up falling asleep downstairs listening to aaron practice guitar.

sunday aaron and i ventured out to find the ever elusive Safeway supermarket that was said to be around bedford somewhere. as we approached Woburn Ave, we could see a roudy parade of protesters carrying banners and signs and rainbow flags proclaiming PEACE. this was london's Anti-Bush protest that was organized out of Trafalgar Square. over 75,000 people had gathered with signs that said "Bush Out" "Troops Out" or "Blair Out" with a red splotch radiating from the signs center to symbolize blood, all of whom were against the war in iraq and concerned with the upcoming election. people had come from countries all over europe, and you could hear chants in every language blaring out of speakerphones and echoed by the marchers. it's scary that America's election is so important to people all over the world... it made me realize more than ever what a responsibility each one of us american's have in our vote and in our opinions. that night i went with aaron and annika to see Motorcycle Diaries, since we were the only three between our two flats who hadn't been. it was a good movie... it made me think about travel in a whole new way, and reminded me how much i should be doing to not just think of myself and those in my society, but to look to those who have lost the power to earn a living or even have dignity.

today i went to literature class and home again. i edited chris' essay for him, and now should ideally start on my own. i talked to ferdi, who is feeling down after a lousy week. i'm starting to feel sick, which i've been fighting for awhile. i leave on wednesday for italy, and am on the whole totally unprepared, but after stressing out tonight and tomorrow, i'll be on the plane one way or another!

'A long december, and there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last. i can remember the last thing that you said was you were leavin and the days go by so fast. and it's one more day up in the canyon and it's one more night in hollywood. if you think that i could be forgiven, i wish you would. the smell of hospitals in winter, and the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters but no pearl. all at once you look across a crowded room and see the way that light attaches to a girl. and it's one more day up in the canyon, and it's one more night in hollywood. if you think you might come to california, i think you should. drove up the hillside met her sometime after 2 am and talked a little while about the year. i guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower, makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her and it's been a long december and there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last. i can't remember all the times i tried to tell myself to hold onto these moments as they pass. and it's one more day up in the canyon, and it's one more night in hollywood. it's been so long since i've seen the ocean... i guess i should.'

i had an epiphany about the influence of other peoples reactions when i walked out into the rain last night. most people react negatively to rain, complain about it, or just don't enjoy being in it. and i was thinking 'aw, it's raining,' and then i stopped, and realized that that's stupid, because i really enjoy it! the rain was perfect last night--the drops weren't too heavy that they made you flinch or so light that they tickled your face. if you are lucky enough to have a waterproof jacket and waterproof shoes (thanks, rockport!) then it's actually quite a pleasant walk from school to the flats, most of you dry and cozy. it's great to feel the rain hit your face, best if you tilt it up a little to look at the sky. nighttime rain is the best, because you cant see it until you look at a streetlight or the headlight of a car. last night i was walking back and listening to gospel music on my ipod and was just in such a great mood that i started doing something uncommon in london--i started smiling at people. a few smiled back, and one even greeted me. i still got a lot of averted eyes but it's nice to connect with people in such an anonymous city.

when i got home last night people were acting silly. sarah's mom had sent her two yo-yo's in a gift package, and chris and aaron were playing with them. aaron actually knew tricks, which chris just got tangled in the string. at one point we made them have a yo-yo-off to catwalk music, which was quite funny. afterwards i learned how to 'sleep' a yo-yo and then i taught chris how to waltz to disney tunes. later that night skyler and hanami and aaron and tiffany and i went out to a club called metro that played rock music. it was ok... but we had a good time anyway.

today on my film class break aaron and i each got a pack of 5 fresh baked sainsbury white chocolate chip cookies (a staple in my diet) and small containers of milk (only £1.29 altogether!), and i sat through the movie feeling happier than usual for so early on a friday. i keep feeling inspired to write, but at a loss for where to begin when it comes to my novel. it's lame actually, i spend so much time thinking in typable sentances to include either here or in my novel... everything i do, i'm recording in my head with the specific purpose of finding the correct turn of phrase or way to describe something. i need a new hobby!

by monday night the whole group of us were back together (people had been off in dublin) and we all went to wagamama's to celebrate ashley's 21st. the food was good and i tried sake for the first time. after dinner we went to topshop (picture a four-story department store filled with trendy and even vintage clothes for people around our age), where they were having a night of free drinks and 20% off the entire store. ironically, the girls and aaron sat around playing drinking games while chris, matt, and dan all bought stuff. we continued on to walkabout, but this time it wasn't as much fun for me. there were so many creepy guys and it was just plain stressful to be there the way they stalked around our group of girls. i left early with matt, because i had an art history midterm the next day (oops.). on the bus we ended up talking about dancing, and matt said he wants to come with me this friday to paul's west coast thing. it'll be fun to take him so he can learn the dance, and sally and i on tuesday already talked about playing matchmaker between matt and paul.

tuesday i started studying at 11 for the test at 2. while i hadn't known a thing about our course before that time, i learned a substancial amount and think i did reasonably well on the exam. tuesday night i went dancing at a new venue in ealing, and while i didn't breach the issue of compensation for teaching (i felt a bit underqualified and unsure of my place) i did manage to secure a position as teaching assistant for the next week's wc swing class with the teacher david. i also learned modern jive, which is dancing without footwork. my friend ed who gives me rides to london was super-good at it, even though he keeps a humble front (he competes advanced and he'll tell me 'i'm not very good'... sheesh!). later that night hanami and i had some good roommate bonding and just talked about a lot of things including religion and relationships. she is such a cool girl... passionate about things, but really easy going and super nice. i also realized yesterday that aaron is a combination of zulu and oreck in personality... which makes so much more sense as to why he seemed familiar to me.

wednesday means CORE class! we had another speaker who fed us a lot of bs about modernity, which is starting to get tedious. after his talk, hanami asked a question that was more like a rant and went off on how pointless and stupid the lecture was. it was painful to witness but a true sentiment. in the afternoon we had a walk around the city for the same class in the pouring rain, which was informative, but after awhile the dampness seeps to the bone and it's nice to be inside.

during my lecture today i wrote five haiku's about london as a submission to a newsletter (there's a chance to win a £25 certificate to wagamama's if you bring stuff in). here they are for your enjoyment:

ALWAYS COME PREPARED
Suddenly, rain! and
Oxford is New; in my hand--
umbrella and map.

THE TUBE
Down, up, tunnels, stairs,
change at King's Cross. It's so nice--
not having to walk!

IT'S HARD TO BE HAPPY AT LUNCHTIME
Buying a sandwich
isn't fun, when converting
dollars into pounds.

PROPER PROCEDURE
The boil must be
furious for a perfect
cup of Earl Gray.

STREET SAFETY
Curbs tell you which way
to look, but they don't mention
the Royal Mail Vans.

maybe they're not as poignant if you haven't been here, but just to explain references Oxford Street changes names like 5 or more times, including changing to New Oxford Street. also, the Royal Mail Vans are bright red and the drivers drive like they're out for blood. zebra crossings, human decency, these things mean nothing in the face of an efficient mail service!

i've had an emotionally hectic weekend... it feels like the pace of life here was altered upon my return. i had a literature midterm today, where i rocked an in class paper comparing excerpts from TS Eliot's The Wasteland with Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway. it was fun and refreshing to get to write a literary analysis (sick, i know), but now i have to get down to the nasty stuff: an art history midterm tomorrow and a cinema summary collection for thursday. i booked a final trip to switzerland today, but despite my being on top of things i feel like i'm about to fall apart at the seams. i'm stressed about money for one thing, and in general feel overwhelmed here. it's ashley's bday today, and we had a good talk after lit about how she's doing with her boyfriend... it was nice to be able to discuss the 'christian relationship' aspects that few people relate to. even though i got to talk online with ferdi a lot this past week and got a phone call from courtney which was a highlight of the weekend, i still miss everyone a lot, and am starting to look forward to settling back into the normalcy of life in SB... getting a job, getting involved in church, hanging out at AGO, and of course spending time with laura and sarah and everyone.

friday night we had a girls night out, where i drank more than i have previously at a place i had never been to--Walkabout, which is an austrailian themed nightclub. most of us girls are dating someone back home, so we all just danced in a group trying to protect our herd against the guys who prowled around us (it was bizarre!), but two girls were single and going off to meet guys. we tried to keep tabs on them, and megan was always in sight, but we soon lost annika, and when we wanted to leave did a thorough search for her but couldn't find her. we went home hoping she was there but she wasn't. her roommate was freaking out and everyone was emotional and tipsy and we ended up waiting with the RA until she finally got home at 8:30, having slept at the other program apartments after getting her purse stolen at the club and not having a way to get back in. i slept til noon but was off the whole day. i came to the lab to do some work and ended up finishing A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, which was emotional for me becasue of the story and the brilliant writing and the fact that i had finished it and finally becasue it made me sad i could never top that with my writing. it's a great book. then as if my day isn't turning out to be wierd enough, my sister robin sends me an email which contains the most communication we've ever had into under a page typed. i had made a joking comment about my brother and recorded it in the journal and she took it the worst way possible, which i think is actually good in the long run because it caused her to put some things out there and gave me a chance to reply with all sorts of pent up emotions and sentiments about our family and our places in it. i was literally sitting there crying (so embarassing) in the computer lab as i realized how much i had been ignoring any issues our family had or that i had within that. it was both painful and relieving at the same time. i sent the email but robin hasn't written me back... i hope she got it. thankfully right after all this i got to talk with ferdi and cc on AIM, who were both a comfort. the rest of the weekend was lazy... sunday i worked in the morning and relaxed in the evening, spending most of my time sitting in my bed doing a quiet time with God and writing in my journal and listening to music and working on an outline for my midterm. it was nice to have such a cozy sunday, complete with jasmine tea and pajamas! on an unrelated note i am getting along better with skyler which is good because i don't like being 'off' with people. in general i am going ot try and be as loving as i can to my roommates and friends here, and to serve them as best i can.

that's it for now i think... i'm not sure when this feeling of dizzy stress will leave me, but i hope it does soon.

Older chests reveal themselves
Like a crack in a wall
Starting small, and grow in time
And we always seem to need the help
Of someone else
To mend that shelf
Too many books
Read me your favourite line

Papa went to other lands
And he found someone who understands
The ticking, and the western man's need to cry
He came back the other day, yeah you know
Some things in life may change
And some things
They stay the same

Like time, there's always time
On my mind
So pass me by, I'll be fine
Just give me time

Older gents sit on the fence
With their cap in hand
Looking grand
They watch their city change
Children scream, or so it seems,
Louder than before
Out of doors, into stores with bigger names
Mama tried to wash their faces
But these kids they lost their graces
And daddy lost at the races too many times

She broke down the other day, yeah you know
Some things in life may change
But some things they stay the same

Like time, time, there's always time
On my mind
So pass me by, I'll be fine
Just give me time,
Time, there's always time
On my mind
Pass me by, I'll be fine
Just give me time

it's dark outside as we board our bus back to dublin airport. we all take separate seats again, and try to fall asleep. no in-bus movie, and more noticably no heat, make sarah and megan iritable, and me a little less so. mainly i'm just tired of thinking. i hadn't brought my ipod on the trip, had finished my book, and after many hours of thinking time due to travel, was no longer in the mood. the bus stopped infrequently, but soon there were many people on the bus. each time someone came aboard i feigned sleep and took up both seats in order to keep my space. with about an hour to go however, an older gentleman got on board and started making his way back. still feigning sleep i risked a glance at the only other availible seat--a guy across the aisle from me who was out for the count. begrudgingly urging myself to have mercy on the actually-sleeping stranger, i moved my bags and feet to let the man sit down.
"not sleeping i hope?"
"no, no, it's hard to sleep on a bus."
"ah, that it is."
he was a pleasant man, short but healthy, with a gray fidora and a blue overcoat. not to turn this into a cheesy hallmark moment, but the old man really made my day with his quips and wisdom which he imparted over the rest of the bus ride. he was heading to england only to return the next day with his daughter and her three year and eight day old children. "she'll be needing the help," he said, his expressive blue eyes widening as he raised his eyebrows. we talked about america and ireland, comparing them. he told me how everyone these days was investing in these "stupid big houses" where they couldn't possibly sleep in all the rooms. i would invest it differently, he said. education, research... people need a lot of fixing these days. we talked about technology, the american elections, and travel. "you're only young once" he intoned, "travel now before it becomes inconvenient like it is for me." when i told him how much i had enjoyed ireland, he said "well it's mainly the change of pace, i think... it's a hard speed to come back from. in london you'll be thinking, 'why am i rushing?' back in california too. this life style's hard to shake." when i told him how nice everyone was here, he replied, "yes, well i'm glad you've been so lucky to meet these individuals, you can't group all people in together. but i've found that if you have a reasonable attitude towards people, you won't be having any trouble. i've travelled all over and worked with all races--all races--and i've never been having any trouble, we always get along just fine. languge trouble, oh we'll have that sometimes, but never the other kind. you've just got to remember that they're individuals. no sense in punishing me for something you did, so in the same way if someone who talks like you is rude to me, well then it isn't fair for me to treat you differently because you were similar to that other fellow. but it all comes down to attitude really. reasonable attitude." he told me about the places he'd lived in england, and especially those places by the sea. he loved the sea more than anything else, and told me a story about it. "i was walking on the beach at brighton when i come across an old man standing with just his feet in the water. i asked him as a joke 'why don't you jump in? why just put in your feet?' and he replied, 'i'm seventy-six years old and i come here five times a year just to dip my feet.' then he asked, 'do your feet ache?' 'well yes,' i said, 'actually they do.' 'well come stand with me.' and so i took off my shoes and rolled up my knickers and we must have stood there talking for over an hour--two old men with our feet in the water. but he's right you know, it's good for your feet. won't give you any trouble if you stand them in salt water every once in awhile. an you can't just be taking water and puttin salt in it, no it has to be the real thing." i told him about tiffany's newborn emma, and we talked for awhile about babies and parenting. by the time we reached the airport i was sad to say goodbye, and encouraged immensely by our chat.

back in london and i'm a bit tired, a bit drained. i'm homesick and back to reality, but it will be nice to sleep in a familiar bed tonight. damien rice is in my head and i'm ready to eat some food and go to bed. i'll share more later, i'm sure, as memories and emotions come back to me.

after some unnecessary indecision (is there any other kind?) megan sarah and i ended up on a tour to connemara. the small coach took the windy roads at incredible speeds while the bus driver filled the air with background facts, which were received at an inconsistent rate while i mostly used the time to sort (ha!) my thoughts and watch the scenery. after a first anticlimactic stop in the middle of nowhere, we stopped again on the side of a hill to take pictures, and again at an abbey which is now a girls school. the abbey was beautiful in stone, and the gothic church was located down a green, tree laiden path from it. after admiring the lake and buildings, i settled happily in the restaurant for the ideal (they read my mind) cup of soup and cup of tea. i had been feeling a bit under the weather, and the hot nourishment did wonders to my energy level. back on the road however, the bumps and turns were starting to affect my stomach, and i was grateful when we stopped off at a craft store for a break from the road. at the store i ended up buying emma/tiffany the perfect gift, and taking another cup of tea (tea must have supernatural abilities to provide comfort and satisfaction) in the parlour room with sarah megan and our bus driver. we told him about our school program and had a pleasant conversation.

after the tour megan flirted with the desk attendant before we took our now traditional evening nap, and headed out to the king's head pub, where they advertized a live cover band. on the way we stopped in the music store, where i asked the man at the counter if he had any idea who i had heard on their soundsystem the other day (i hadn't asked then). he played a singer/songwriter albert niland, who was an up and coming irishman who could be put in a category with damien rice. he asked me if i knew who damien rice was, and i was proud to say i did (thanks ferdi!). we had a long talk about albert/damien, and he played me tracks off his album. since i don't have a cd player i'll have to wait till i'm on my laptop to listen, but i'm excited to do so. at the king's head, the band took awhile to set up, giving us ample conversation time, and in the end it was worth the wait. the band's lead singer was indescribably reminiscent of colin ferrell, and the covers were wonderful... nirvana, strokes, oasis, lenny kravitz, tom petty, and on and on. the two finale songs were ac dc's you shook me all night long and (by request) the darkness 'i believe in a thing called love.' we girls decided the bass player was the cutest, and that they were always the quiet, mysterious ones in a band. the band on the whole was fantastic, and they made a perfect finish to a great day.

up by 7, at city centre by 8, budget car rental at 8:29. we go in, sit down smugly, and are promptly asked if any of us is 21 or older. we reluctantly conclude that no, and this being ireland we don't have fake id's with us either, so at 8:31 we're walking out of the small office in a state of dejection. no road trip... no exciting pictures of us driving on the wrong side of the road... no fun! we hurry back to the tourist office and with the help of the lady at the desk we devise a plan. since galway seems to be the most desirable destination, we book a bus that will take us there and then drop us directly at the airport on wednesday. we stop at an offliscence for some snacks, our hopes of a fun vacation reborn, and wait for the bus on the cold and windy mcconnell st. the bus comes and we each take a pair of seats for ourselves. as soon as the wheels start turning, the driver puts on the movie 'The Fugative' which is the perfect (and frequently played) bus trip video. i contently let my eyes wander between harrison ford and the surprisingly ideal rolling green hills on either side of the road. there are stone fences, sheep, mist, rain... it's the ireland you hear about and now it's right outside the bus window! the ride went fast this way--beautiful scenery, another oddly eclectic radion station, and finally arrived in the quaint coastal town of galway. we make a brief stop in the tourist center, before going into the first hostel we find and getting a private room this time for all four of us, after being sold by the cute counter attendant on the 'fluffier pillows' and a free towel that the private room has to offer over a regular one. (tangent: there have been a string of clever desk attendants, starting with the Avalon house: me: 'is this where i inquire about a towel?' da: 'no.' moves over two feet. da: 'THIS is where you inquire about a towel.') we then set off across town (three minute's walk) to the cobblestone walkway lined equally with shops and pubs. at the end of the street is a bridge, under the bridge is a roaring river, and the river pours out into the atlantic ocean... an ocean i haven't seen in many years. we take a lot of pictures, some artsy ones of us sitting on a bench looking out at the view, and others of some photogenic swans that were being fed bread by people who obviously had a death wish and wanted to be swarmed and pecked at by all different sizes of birds. in a cd store anna got invited by an employee to come hear his traditional irish trio play at the spanish inn pub later that evening. we decided to eat first at a place famous for fish and chips... the greasy food made us sleepy, and so after watching people struggle through the rain through the restaurant window, we braved the weather ourselves, the once tolerable skies had turned gray and the rain was coming down almost as hard as the wind. thankfully it was a small town and we were at the hostel in no time, and we all had a nap before starting our night.

the first pub we went to was packed with young people and brimming with energy. we talked to a honeymooning couple from canada, as well as some irish folk. but mostly we just watched the youth of the town who were crowded around low wooden tables laughing and talking. i know i fell in love with the town then, and from the look of the others they did too. at around ten we ventured down to the spanish inn, and encountered a totally different but still pleasant atmosphere. the place was darker and emptier, more of a tourist pub. we all sat down to listen to the trio 'jam' when the bartender came and sat down with us to get our drink orders, claiming to be bored and rocking back and forth on the short stool. we ordered bailey's all around and moved to the bar to keep him company. we talked about ireland and galway and made jokes while he stood there rocking back and forth, his hands braced on the beer taps. we left him after awhile to go back to the original pub, where megan made some irish friends, and anna and i retired early, the greasy dinner still not agreeing with us.

sunday we went downstairs for our advertised 'FREE BREAKFAST' (toast, a banana, and a hot drink from a machine) before meeting anna for some serious tourism. because the guiness factory didn't open until 12 on sunday's, we ended up visiting an old prison, and taking a tour of the stoney encampment. our tour guide looked like colin deeb around the eyes and nose, and was pleasantly soft-spoken. while the tour wasn't the most uplifting, it was an interesting perspective on ireland's political history.

after the tour we visited sarah's great-aunt who lived about twenty minutes out of town. our taxi driver was a pleasant man who had spent the time he wasn't in ireland in austrailia, and was hoping to return soon after taking care of family business. he gave us some great ideas of where to visit in ireland, and planted the idea of renting a car in our heads, assuring us that it was possible considering our ages. we were elated with the idea, and spent the rest of the ride listening to an amusing collection of music and discussing the different yet appealing aspects of a road trip.

the driveway up to sarah's aunt's house was all green shrubbery--a welcome sight after weeks of gray cement. the house was quaint, and filled with family. sarah's great aunt, some first and second cousins, most unidentifiable but fun to meet nonetheless. there were about six kids ranging from just out of college to thirteen, who were fun to talk to and get ideas from about our travels. we had a gourmet lunch followed by a whole table of dessert, and listened while the famliy bantered and talked. the great aunt was a very active hostess, always offering more food and drink in the manner of a nun walking down a row of desks to see who is paying attention. one of the college kids, peter, got us a map and showed us where to go. 'galway' was his most insistent recommendation. we left the house feeling like we had recieved a little taste of home, not to mention the excellent free meal. we got back to dublin and reserved a car before retiring to Avalon for a rest.

for dinner we met megan's friend who was studying in dublin. we ended up at an italian cafe with good food and had some great conversations before making it an early night. thankfully this time sarah's bed was unoccupied.

i pack in a hurry and i leave with megan and sarah... farringdon, stamsted express, ryanair... landing in dublin in the evening. we take a bus downtown, acting very conspicuously american, and asking the bus driver more than once for the location of our hostel. the Avalon House was centrally located in downtown dublin. it was run down but fun, the couches draped with orange blankets and the walls painted in a variety of uncoordinated designs. the guys behind the dingy front desk were pleasant and funny, checking us in and then sending us to our room. the room held about eight bunk beds on the floor level, and maybe four more up the spiral staircase in the loft. we chose our beds, met some girls from canada, and went out to meet a girl from the program anna, who was also travelling in dublin, and get some drinks.

when we entered the first pub we were immediately assaulted by the sound of every person in the pub singing along to 'wonderwall,' which was blasting over the speakers. we all ordered ciders and sang along. one irish guy had purchased a touristy leprechaun hat with attached red beard, and was getting quite a few photo ops, including ones with us. then he put the hat on megan, which turned out to me one of the trips best pictures by far, since the beard matched her hair and in general made her look like a wee person. the next pub we went to had traditional irish music but was an older crowd. next we went to a pub where a guy with a guitar was singing 'bye bye miss american pie...' and so of course we joined in and enjoyed the american music. after that we got bailey's at yet another pub and talked to two irish guys who were helpful but not threatening with their semi-fliratious banter. ("if someone asks you 'do you have any irish in you?' just say 'no, and i don't want any' otherwise you'll have set yourself up"). in the evening's final pub, we ran into six or so people from our program, and sat with them for awhile talking about CORE and ireland. by this point i was a bit tipsy (for my first time no less!) having consumed the night's alcohol on an empty stomach. it just made me a bit dizzy/hazy and a little braver in the conversation instead of listening quietly like i normally would. i was encouraged however at various points during the evening that i was still capable of walking a straight line, which seemed to be a task too difficult for some of the other girls. on the way back to the hostel we stopped in a kebab/pizza place and ordered garlic chips (fries). after they disappeared, we didn't have too many moral apprehensions about ordering another.

when we got back to the room, a drunken/pmsing sarah was dismayed to find a guy in her assigned bed. she woke him up, and had a hard time communicating when he turned out to be italian. the night watchman came up to resolve the issue and ended up ruining our attempt at discretion (a lot of people were asleep) by talking incredibly loudly. sarah got new sheets and a new assigned place next to me; and as we ended our whirlwind of a night in creaky hostel beds, i was satisfied with our trip's beginning and so excited for the days to come.