Wednesday, March 11, 2009

When in Africa...

I hate these retarded keyboards.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Where are my keys, I lost my camera

On our first night in Madrid, my camera with over 100 pictures from Portugal was stolen right out of my pocket. FML. The millions of pictures will simply have to be developed through ORAL TRDITION, ala the cavemen or the disciples. The silver lining ist hat my favorite person in the world, Alyssa Glykokokalos, will sent the camera that was recently regurgitated by Madeline Sayet´s bed over to Florence for me to have for the rest of my stay abroad. Great successes abound.

In other news, Lisbon and Madrid are absolutely gorgeous (and not just the scenery). I am quasi-journaling, but here are a few key points regarding recent happenings on this excursion:
1. You really get what you pay for with Ryanair. And you pay for near death; I seriously was saying my prayers and thinking what my last thoughts owuld be thousands of miles in the air in the worst turbulence I´ve ever felt.
2. I have seen Carmen Pistachio´s favorite painting, that earthly delights one. Quite beastial.
3. I have chosen not to check Facebook throughout the duration of my stay abroad. LEAVE MESSAGES!
4. Madrid ha molto non-normale if you catch my drift.

So it´s another day in Madrid, then off to Valencia, Casablanca, Marrakech, and Barcelona, then MEETING UP WITH MOMMY AND KUYA IN VENICE!!!! Skeet skeet motherfucker.

ADIOS MUCHACHOS burrito burro guacamole y tu mama tambien

Thursday, March 5, 2009


OK! I am off on my week and a half long Spring Break. I will be either in Pisa, Porto, Lisbon, Madrid, Casablanca, Marrakech, Barcelona, Venice, or Rome. So expect to not recieve any updates till I get back (not that there were very many anyways). But I PROMISE i will write and journal so I'll have something to throw on here when I get back. If you need to reach me please call, all my contact info is on my Facebook.

Until then, here's a little present of our current excursions, at the Florence chocolate fair in San Marco. ARRIVEDERCI!

Milano, more than just a cookie

Milano cookies are incomparable. I bite into one of those delicious little things and I am immediately reminded of cuddling into bed and pulling a bag out of my pillowcase and... well, thats too much information. And wow, I'm a fucking fat ass.

Milan the city is equally scrumptious, only a tad more wet and rainy. Imagine if Florence and New York both got incredibly disgustingly drunk one right and had painful, regrettable unprotected sex (for the purposes of the story, New York is male and Florence is female). They create a baby and try numerous ways to abort it to no avail (Florence pulls a Kate Winslet without, you know... dying.) Out pops Milan, a nice hybrid of the old school beauty of Florence and a hustle-and-bustle of New York City, without quite being either.

Our Hostel was a nice little place, complete with kitten bedspread, a bide (sp?) without an adjacent toilet, a bunny-ear television, and a life-size porcelin Snow Leopard. (We would soon find out that Milan is not the city of lights or shopping but rather of quite large porcelin creatures) Little did we know that the Snow Leopard would be one of the highlights of our visit (our visit was by no means bad but the Snow Leopard was just that fucking amazing).

And so our Milanese journey began. In Centro was the Duomo which, to be honest, kicked the sweet little ass of Florence's duomo. It was not only huge but incredibly ornate... After an incredibly long hike, we were treated to the roof of one of the most beautiful Catholic structures I have seen in my life. Statues of saints every two steps, pillars, marble... Words cannot describe, not even rain could dampen this sight. Definitely one of the highlights of my trip abroad so far. (also there was a billboard of our dear friend ScarJo)

Then we got hunted down by African imports trying to sell us bracelets. They do a silly little thing where they run up to you, shove seed in your hand, and wait until the birds come and ravage you. Then expect you to give them money. Yeah right, I will not pay you to get shat on so you can buy your wives in your home country fare from the Amistad.

What else? We went to this huge castle with like, 40 million museums. While they were all interesting in their own ways, one particular highlight was the enormous porcelin crab. Once again, the procelin animals reveal themselves.

That night, we went to the best resturaunt ever in the entire world. 4 euro Margherita pizza with no cover charge. Success. Food in general was just wonderful in Milan. We also went to a bakery that had CHOCOLATE CHIP MUFFINS that you had to eat with a spoon! What a concept.

Yes, Milano was fabulous. It was like cramming two together and making a super Milano sandwich... yes, I am a fatass.

This was written two weeks ago.

Ok, I haven’t updated this in a while, I know… But I have an excuse. I usually do these blogs in Accounting class (the most boring class in the history of the universe) and I haven’t had the class in two weeks. But now I’m here. And you’d think I should be paying attention, because I have my first midterm in this class (already?) next week. And I’m gonna fail. Stupid Stern curve. Anways, Venice…

Hold on. Pause: No one in our class understands anything and we’re all going to fail the test so I may need to pay attention if only for a bit…

A couple weekends ago, Jess and I took a wonderful trek to Venezia, Italia. It was the perfect day for the perfect city: as soon as I steppe off the train I knew I’d fall in love with it. I was born and raised a mere 2 minute walk from the Pacific Ocean, and I could see it from my bedroom window. I’ve always been obsessed with water: I love streams through forests and rivers through canyons and sunsets on beaches.

And I think that’s why I loved Venice so much—no streets, just canals running through the city, with boats replacing cars and bridges replacing crosswalks. Instead of tripping and falling off a sidewalk into the street, you ran the risk of plummeting into a huge body of water with no form of barricade protecting you.

As I said earlier, the day we got to Venice was probably the most gorgeous day I’ve seen so far in Italy. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the weather was a perfect 65 degrees F, and the sun was almost setting, reflecting a gorgeous orange on the faces of all the surrounding bodies of water. The walk from the train station to our hostel was about 30 minutes (contrary to the directions they gave us, which said it was 15), but it really was a great walk, and the more of the city I saw the more I fell in love with it. Bridges, gondolas, and cobblestone paths merged perfectly with Lush and McDonalds; Little shops and stands selling souvenirs stood perfectly situated outside of The Disney Store and United Colors. There was even a huge, old style church that had “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam” etched across it’s front; the first Jesuit anything I’ve seen in an extremely Catholic country. It was, honestly, extremely exciting.

After our 30 minute self-touring of the city, we finally got to our Hostel, called The Venice Museum, which was a lot like a museum: busts on the wall, huge paintings abound, and ornate vases and tables everywhere. We met up with dear Holley and Brooks, who came down to Prague for Jess’s birthday, and walked around the city even more.

The first memorable locale in which we found ourselves was at the Ponte Rialto, the Rialto bridge. It sits above a primary river, and because the day was absolutely gorgeous it was quite a sight to behold. Gondolas going up and down the river against a postcard backdrop…. Beautiful.

Then everything is a haze, because it happened like a month ago. DAMN this stupid blog! But we went into this gorgeous palace, which is where my newfound love for ceilings originated. That palace whose name slips my mind is definitely one of the highlights of Venice… what is it called? The Doge Palace? Anyways, it was beautiful. I believe a masquerade ball in its main hall is in order, ala Gossip Girl.

Another highlight was the main cathedral, Catedrale San Marco.