For whatever reason, right now when I try to type a title for my blog it is coming out in some sort of curly-looking language. I have no idea what that shit is. Good thing I didn´t have any good idea for a title anyway.

Kristen and I are in Madrid after a long couple of days of travel. On Tuesday, I went with Kristen to visit one of her English classes and it was really fun. Believe it or not, I get along pretty okay with French children. I sat in the back of the room in a shared desk with a boy named Hugo while Kristen sang songs and talked in French. I sort of, mostly understood what was going on. Then the kids, about 10-11 years old, asked me questions including, but not limited to, my favorite color, whether or not I play volleyball and my phone number. The same boy who asked me what my phone number was also yelled "I love you" as I walked out the door. So, if all else fails, I can bank on an 11 year old French boyfriend. Awesome.

That night we went to the train station to get tickets to go to Paris and Madrid, but apparently there was/is a train strike and according to the man who worked at the SNCF, it just didn´t work. So, we went ahead and went to Bayeux to meet the Normandy Scholars at the Moulin Morin and made some dinner of asperagus and potatoes and had a nice time. Kristen taught me this phrase in France, "il n'a pas arrive" meaning, "it didn't arrive" and I think that pretty much explains our entire/my entire experience in France thus far. People say this when either they are too lazy to do something or it really just doesn't work out. Either way, it is really irritating. Lucky for us, Francoise figured out how to get us a ride from Bayeux to a big enough city that we could catch a train to Paris, in hopes of making it to Madrid the next day (Thursday). The bus driver for the group took us to some town where we spent an hour with surprisingly helpful and friendly Frenchmen that figured out the ABSOLUTE most ridiculous way to get us to Madrid, the next day, that also some how circumvented said train strikes. Although the plan "worked" we'd have to spend the night in Paris at a pretty expensive hotel and wake up early the next morning to catch a train to some place called Irún. I'd like to explain this all in more detail, but I am at an internet cafe now and have about two minutes left of time. Therefore, I will make this quasi-interesting and leave you hanging.

Until, most likely, Granada, be good! Also, I have to mention that the song "Time after Time" is playing on the radio and it makes this all slightly more surreal. Okay, bye.

Uh, France

Hi. Here I am in Caen, France, sitting in Kristen's room, while she reads a book...bookishly. I thought I might be more poetic with that last sentence but I wasn't, and I'm not, so there you are. I've been in Europe for almost exactly a week now and it's been fairly "jam-packed". Are those words hyphenated? I don't know. I've never really understood hyphens.

ANYWAY,Helki and I arrived in Frankfurt last Tuesday around noon. Our plane was supposed to land at 11 or so, but there was some sort of mechanical problem in Chicago and we were delayed an hour. This normally wouldn't have been such a big deal but we had planned ahead to do a ride share (Mitfahrgelegenheit) with a guy named Claus, who happened to work for Lufthansa. ANYWAY, it's less than half the price of taking the train from Frankfurt to Freiburg and the time it takes is just about the same. So Claus, although he had ended up already leaving the airport by the time we got there, because we were so late, was nice enough to come back and get us when we called. It was a pretty nice drive down the Autobahn in his Volkswagen. It was kind of exactly everything you might hope a rideshare with a German would be. Mostly what I mean by that was that he drove a Volkswagen and we drove on the Autobahn...ANYWAY, he was very nice and dropped us off right at the door of Alban Stolz. Once we got there, Mark and Carolin were waiting with some cake and coffee and we had a nice chat and then I honestly don't remember what we did after that. Not because I was drunk or something, but because I really don't remember. The next morning we got up and had some breakfast at Aspekt, a place that we liked to go when I was studying there and Helki and I spent the day in the city. We bought some cell phones to use while we're over here and lucky for us half of the words used in the realm of technology are the same in English, except that you have to say them with a German accent. So that's cool, I guess. We met Mark in the afternoon for some coffee and then I suppose we went home and made some dinner. That night they decided to go ahead and open the bar at the dormitory, which would not normally be open because Germany has a holiday right now for Pentacost (what this country won't take vacation for, I don't know) and they had karaoke. And that was of course hilarious, I guess. I don't know. Honestly, it was all pretty weird to be back at Alban, especially without my American friends. I was also kind of weirded out by how excited some people seemed to be to see me. People that I never necessarily thought about as being that great of friends, but that is definitely a nice thing. Although, a lot of people seemed to have some trouble realizing it was me because my hair is shorter and I guess there wouldn't be any reason for them to expect me to be there. Anyway, the whole first half of the week was really kind of crappy because I was sick from running my body too hard before I left (moving out and whatever), so I never really enjoyed myself as much or did as much as I really wanted to. C'est la vie...

On Saturday morning Helki and I got up REALLY early in order to make our way to Herrenberg, outside of Stuttgart, for her cousin Leonie's wedding. I think this whole experience, wedding and all, would've been 1,000x more enjoyable if I hadn't (really fucking foolishly) decided to match drinks with a hearty, twenty-two year old Hungarian boy (on his birthday, no less) the night before. Suffice to say, I will NEVER drink Kirschwasser again or fall into bushes. The wedding was pretty neat though and Helki's family was incredibly nice and I met my German doppelgaenger. She was an incredibly tiny German granny who was wearing more or less the same outfit as I was for the wedding. When I say tiny, I mean that when I was sitting down in a chair, we were the same height. She could hug Very hard. The next morning, feeling slightly to mostly better, Helki and I went into Stuttgart and met Christoph. He showed us around the city some and we had a little food. Unfortunately it was raining pretty hard, so we mostly just hung inside and Christoph and I watched this show called "Tat/Ort" which is apparently pretty popular and comes on every Sunday night for an hour and a half. Christoph really enjoys this show so...yea, I watched it with him and although I haven't really watched CSI or something like that, I think you could say it's like those shows but with slighly more humor. For example, a little person plays one of the main characters, and although I realize that isn't supposed to be funny, I think it brings a certain sense of lightness or something. Christoph's roommate Philliip came home while we were watching the show (in Phillip's) room, which wasn't a big deal and sat and watched it with us. And I think Phillip is also the biggest German that I have seen since being in Germany. No joke. I think my shoe could probably fit inside of his. A gentle giant from Bavaria....I guess he wasn't that huge.

ANYWAY, I left Stuttgart this morning and some how managed to get myself all the way to Caen to see Kristen. I know very little French and incredibly it works for me everytime. I guess I just know exactly the right words. It was a little strange while I was waiting in line for a ticket because there was a couple near me from Midland, Texas, but I didn't dare talk to them because I most certainly didn't want to give it away that I was Texan too... Something about France makes me suddenly slightly more ashamed of where I am from. I don't think I could ever pass for being French, but I think I can pass for German, so I guess it's just based on a general uncomfortablness (that's for sure not a word) of so obviously not fitting in. Another of example of this would be tonight when Kristen's french friends met us for a drink. Her male friend Manu very nicely gave me the French kisses on my cheeks and frankly I just couldn't handle it. I don't think it is a secret that I am fiercely protective of my personal space bubble and I'm sure he could feel how tense I became..besides the fact that I offered him my hand and he went for the cheek. Again, c'est la vie. I don't think anyone really gives a shit but me. SO ANYWAY, there we are. Tomorrow I am going to visit Kristen's English class and try to teach some french children bad words. Then in the afternoon/evening we are going to meet the Normandy Scholars in Bayeux and stay with them for the night before we go to Paris to take an overnight train to Madrid. Despite all the wishes of sun and fun from my German friends, it looks like it'll be raining the entire time we are there. Boo. At least I've figured out how to say "I am a strict vegetarian" in Spanish. Also, there seems to be no such thing in France.

So that's it. I'm here and doing my thing and feeling weird about the fact that I have no real home when I come home.

the Chaparosa

OMG.. moving sucks. I wish I had the balls to throw all my stuff away. I guess I can do that when I come back in June. I'm feeling a lot better about the trip. It's less than a week away now and we have places to stay (more or less) everywhere but Paris. But, you know, it's PARIS! There will be a place to sleep, perhaps on a bench with a baguette for a pillow, under the Eiffel Tower, c'est la vie or something. Yeah...

This is not a thing to worry about. However, crazy lady at the Chap is.

I think she called the cops on me and Helki tonight. We were moving some stuff out of my place and this plastic set of drawers EXPLODED all over the second floor stairs and office supplies went everywhere (plus my iPOD and some camera memory cards and my social security card and it'snotabigdealwhateverbecauseIfoundeverything). But it WAS a real-life Home Alone, Kevin-style boobie trap. Not on purpose, obviously, but Helki ended up with a thumb tack in her shoe. Anyway, when it fell, it made a really loud noise (I heard it from inside the closet in my apartment) and multiple neighbors either came outside or locked their doors because I guess you lock your door when you hear loud noises these days and Crazy McOldlady who shouldn't be living in our apartment complex called the cops. Of course we didn't get in trouble or anything because they only had to talk to her for 30 seconds to realize that she is totally insane. But ANYWAY, she yelled at Ellen the other day, saying that she was throwing beer bottles off the second floor (not true). Another time she yelled at one of our neighbors telling him to go back to India with his Indian penis and to stop making babies and blah blah blah (wtf?). She just sits by the pool and pretends to talk on the pay phone and RUINS MY LIFE.

ANYWAY, I think she thinks that we spend our time trying to think how to fuck with her and really I sort of wish we did because it would just be awesome.

So that was my cultural experience for today.