The bubonic plague

So I am becoming notoriously terrible at the blogging. My irregularity it just terrible. My bad. But in my defensive, I almost died. Ok total exaggeration. But this is the story, ahem:

So last Thursday, me, Krista, Tyler, Dani, and John, went to this little town that is full of ruins called Ostia Anteca. Now in my mind we were going to go there, hang out see some things, and peace. But! To my surprise, YOU CAN ACTUALLY CLIMB ALL OVER THE RUINS! Like no joke, it is like a giant play ground. You can jump off on things and crawl into holes and climb all over and on top of things, all while seeing some sights! I mean, are you SUPPOSED to climb on them? Probably no....But is there anyone there to regulate/ stop you? Nope, so we all got buck wild. It was literally, so much fun! The boys were trying to do hardcore parkour, which was funny to watch. And Krista and I got really close because we found out that we have really similar personalities. So it was a huge success.
Later that same day we all decided that we wanted to go to the Hard Rock Cafe, Roma. So all of us went, plus Giuliano, Alex, and Sam. Which seemed like a good idea at the time. And at the time, it was sooooo amazing. I had the biggest, juiciest burger ever. And I had been wanting that for so long, so I was so happy. But the happiness was so momentary...

Later that night, as I was getting ready to pack for florence, which I was leaving for at 8am with API, I started to feel less than great. Pretty soon I started to feel so sick and nauseous that I could barely stand up. I felt dizzy and weak, and I said screw it to packing, and went straight to bed. At around 1am, shit got real, and I proceeded to violently vomit until 5:45am. It was just awesome.
Needless to say packing didnt go well. As a matter of fact, I only brought the shoes I wore there (sneakers...Im ashamed) and NO ACCESSORIES! YA! That's how sick I was. I looked horrible. I wore no make up on the bus, had a sallow, pale face, and looked dead. I slept the whole way there, and even when I thought that maybe I would be ok to walk around and see things, I wasnt. I ended up sleeping the entire first day of florence. I was just buried under a huge layer of blankets, being miserable. And it was extra crappy because I felt like I was missing out on so much (which I hate) and I was all by myself (which I hate more). But I wanted to be alone, I didnt want to drag anyone down in my bubonic plague death ridden hotel room.
Im really lucky though. Dani and John magically nursed me back to health. Dani gave me her blankets (though our room was freezing) and John managed to find me magic medicine that brought me back to life, and bought me crackers (all I could keep down) and a Sprite. To be honest, I wasnt really alive, but I can vaguely remember them coming in and out of the room to check up on me and take care of me. And each time John found it necessary to call me a different type of mexican food haha it varied between "little burrito" "taco salad" and "little taco". I was comatose, so I didnt complain. But I wouldnt complain anyways, I was being taken care of, and it was  out of the kindness of there own hearts. I love them. And Im so grateful for that because the next day I was an entirely new person!
Florence was really nice. But really small. I liked it, but I honestly didnt get to see as much because I missed a whole day and only had another day to catch up. BUT! I went shopppppiiimnnnnnggggg! Yeaaah Boy, I did work at the leather market. Florence is famous for its leather market, and I indulged. New coat, new travel bag, jewelery, scarf, holla holla. No shoes though! Be proud of me! Because I sure am.
I also got to see The David. And it is the most immense thing you will ever see. Like you dont understand its grandeur in a picture. He is just so big and perfect and you see something different every time you see him at a different angle. I suggest seeing it. It will change your life. Seriously, it's one of the most impressive, beautiful things you will ever see.
I also took a cooking class! And I made tiramissu! And Crepes! AND I FLIPPED THE CREPE IN THE PAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was so proud of myself you dont even understand. I even made whipped creme and chopped onions (my first time for both). I am basically going to come back a culinary genius. Nbd. Meaning it's the biggest deal! Seeing as when I came here I could barely boil water. Get. At. Me.
Oh, and I went to a vineyard and got a tour of the cellar and then got a wine tasting, but seeing as I dont drink, I wasnt really interested. And it was fricked snowing. Snowing! What is that?! I was not impressed. But I got a lot of cheese at the wine tasting so I was content. And the guys got all my wine, so they were content hahaha.

I love the guys, I really do. They're so funny. I spend more time at there place then my own, I just like to listen to the absurd things they say.

But ya, that was Florence. It probably would have been more epic if I wasnt dying a slow painful death, puking my life away. But it was still a win over all.

I'm going to Venice tomorrow for Carnivale, which is super exciting, I have a mask and everything, so Im ready to party. Bouts to get buck wild. And Krista's dad sprung for all of us to get a hotel room, which is BALLIN. Im excited.

But now I have to hop off the computer, because this isnt mine. But I'm going to write more often, now that I've survived my near death experience. Hallelujah.

It's a pandemic!

Or an epidemic.. or maybe just my roommate is sick and I'm being dramatic.
Ya, that's probably it.
Regardless, my actual roommate, the one I share a room with has the flu and Bronchitis. So me, being the germaphobe that I am, and staying far far far away from her. I love her and all, but I dont have time to be sick. I'm a busy girl. This weekend I'm off to Florence, next weekend I'm off to Venice, the following weekend I'm going to Palermo, the weekend following that I'm going to Pompei and then it's spring break and I'm off to London, Scotland, and Dublin. You think I would come back and chill but the next weekend, the first of April (yikes) I'm going to Greece. So I mean, there is zero time for illness. Not that I ever have time for illness, but now more than ever, I need to be healthy and well so that I can walk everywhere and be alert and attentive.

Speaking of attentive....I have zero attention span. It's getting worse by the minute. I literally cant pay attention to anything my Art History teacher says, even though she is wicked cool and is teaching me things I want to know. The minute she opens he mouth, I want to nap. I should have her come over on the nights I have insomnia and have her lull me to sleep.
Today we went to the Church of St. Augustine and saw a painting of the Madonna by Caravaggio. The priest that was in the church was talking to our teacher in italian and was saying that this painting was the most beautiful painting in the world, and that this church was the second most important church in Italy (second to St. Peters, duh). The painting was very impressive, but only because Caravaggio is such a dark artist. He saw things in a way most painters didnt. And portrayed them in ways you werent expecting. He was also a runaway, seeking refuge because he killed a man, but the Cardinals loved him and his art, so they kept him safe. He was called "A damned artist", which makes him sound like a badass.
I started to pay attention towards the end of this because I was interested and I learned that during the baroque period, the put skulls all over churches as "Momento Morti" which basically is a reminder that we're all going to die. And it seems a little redundant because most of us dont really forget that little fact, but they were trying to reinforce the idea that you shouldnt dote on the fleeting and focus on the things that truly matter (in the case of the church, God) and live everyday as if you were dying tomorrow. And I love that. I think if you use that mentality you'll take more risks and live more open. Which is crucial to a full life. Being open to things. So I'm learning anyways. I learn so much here. Not just about culture or the world, but about myself. And it makes everything worth it. Because knowing who you are makes life easier. It enables you to make decisions to better suit YOU and the future you're trying to create. It's power.
Also, if I ever get the Mexican Sugar Skull tattoo, I'll get momento morti under it. or in it. But I doubt I'll get it. I'm running out of places to hide things hahaha.

Today was actually a great day I spent the day with my roommate Krista, getting gelato, going to the Vatican post office, and adventuring to Villa Borghese (the biggest park here) where we took impromptu photos and did our homework. Now we're off to make dinner with the boys and then to a wine bar. We're also going to book Greece and plan out things we want to do here. We both like to plan and write things down. And be clean. So basically, I love her haha.
OH! Today was my first time reading a map. And though I LOATHED looking like a tourist, I was proud that I didnt get us lost! Holla at ya gurrrl.

Weekend Update with Meghan Goodine

Remember that time I was talking about a sleep schedule? bahahahaha what a silly idea. Just the fact that I thought that I could create and stick to any kind of sleep pattern is hilarious.
So, the weekend. Now, in my not-so-real-life in Rome, I have a 4 day weekend. Thursday through sunday. I have a longer weekend than school week. Which just further proves my "This isnt real life" theory.
This week was my roommate Krista's Birthday, and we had already gone out for dinner on the actual day of, but like all birthday girls, she wanted to go out and party. Clearly I was down, because I love to dance. And do anything social. And any excuse to dress up and wear things with sequence and glitter.
So we find out through a friend of a friend that there is the club called Akab, and it gets on and poppin in the Trastevere area. Which is way south from where we live. But we figure out the buses, and get ourselves to Akab (after stopping at BK for both french fries and directions, dont judge me).
Pretty much Trastereve is a ditch with several clubs in a circle around it. And I would be lying if I said it wasnt one of the seediest places I had ever been too, and I'm from Springfield, so I mean...
But regardless, we were going to make this work. So we stood outside of the club waiting for our other friends who were taking a cab to meet us there. While we waited, I noticed a guy making his way directly to us, and proceeded to come over and ask me if I had a lighter. I politely said no and returned to playing bejeweled on my cellphone. But apparently homeboy was looking for a friend so proceeded to ask for our names and such. His name was Johnny, a soccer player from Roma, with a tattoo of a gecko on his neck. He kept telling me in a very thick italian accent that it was pronounced Jecko in english, and I was just like hmmmmm welp, if anyone is going to know how to pronounce things in english, brochacho, it's me, the english speaking party of this convo.
He said he was waiting for his friends too, and I didnt feel too creeped out by him so I didnt junk punch him and make him leave.
His friends finally got there, and there were about 6 of them, all dressed very nice, all looking a little bit too fancy for gecko Johnny. So Johnny said his goodbyes after a failed attempt at trying to get me to leave my girls.
Flash forward to 15 minutes from now when our friends show up and there is a huge line to get in. I'm thinking, great now we have to pay a cover and wait forever. Except just kidding, because Johnny and his friends were apparently VIP and grabbed me and said, "They're with us" and proceeded to let myself and all of my friends in for free, cutting all the people waiting in the cold. Oh worrrdddd??
Now I'm not stupid. Boys dont do nice things for girls they dont know, at a club, for free. They're expecting something. Maybe something as innocent as a dance partner, but something more vulgar, like a sex partner. Either way, I wasnt down for either outcome, so te minute we were in, I threw up the deuces, and split from GJ (gecko Johnny) and Co.
I'm glad I did, because GJ decided to go snort some coke in the bathroom, and come back a little more jazzed up than before, and a little more aggressive. And maybe every guy in the club was snorting coke, because they were all trying to have sex on the dance floor. Luckily, I had a protective barrier, and had my bitch face on, so I didnt have any issues. Other girls, not so lucky.
Now this place probably has you thinking I was scared for my life, seeing as everyone was about 7 feet tall, and white was the minority by a lot. But I felt right at home, I knew who to NOT talk to, and how not to act, which is really the key to everything in life. And they were BUMPIN the jams, so I just got my dance on and ignored how hood rich the environment was. Years of Springfield public schools prepared me well.

Now, we peaced out at around 3 am. And I wont put anyone on blast, but I will say this, shit got real. Some things were said that never should have been said to me, or to anyone, and my hoodrat creeped out and got the best of me. It's only happened once before this in all of my 20 years, but both times I got loud. Really loud. And if you know me at all, you're probably so confused because I'm generally so level headed and trying to be the peace maker. But be warned, I'm still mexican. From Springfield. And every now and then, I cant keep that as locked up as I'd like too. everything is fine now, and I'm not proud of how of my actions, but I am proud that I defended myself. It wont happen again though. Losing my cool ruins my make up haha
Ps, thanks Dad and Crystal for being there and calming me down. I love you.

The following day I slept til around 1:30pm because I went to bed around 5:30am trying to get my blood pressure to lower. Me and the guys were going to try and go on a day trip, but that just wasnt going to happen waking up so late. So we decided to have our first chill day since we arrived in Rome and made dinner at their place and watched The Gladiator (I know, we're corny,but I had never seen it).
Later that night we got invited to go to a place called Art Cafe by some of our other friends from school. And by the name it seemed like a pretty chill way to spend the night, which would be a nice change up from the night before. SIKE! We roll up to this place and it is BUMPIN! Everyone is dressed to impress. Girls are in heels that make their legs look never ending. Guys are all rockin the sweet line ups, tight pants, button-ups, sweet shoes, etc. And everyone, everyone has their bitch face on. When you think of a typical european night club, with strobes and techno and bounces and a guest list, that was Art Cafe. Now due to extenuating circumstances, I didnt have any make up on. Shocking, I know. And I wouldnt go so far as to say I thought I looked ugly but with all the Ardianna Lima's everywhere, I wasnt feeling top notch. But hey, I'm an actress, so I pushed my shoulders back, chin up, shook up my hair, and applied a little extra bitch and lip gloss.
But after all was said and done, me and the boys turned around and decided to go eat and watch Hannibal. Which, now thinking about it, makes us sound really sick hahahaha we only ate cookies, not people. Promise.

Yesterday as a whole was pretty good. We went on a hunt for this little Sicilian Bakery that was known for Canoli's (delicious), went for a walk, went grocery shopping, got fresh strawberries and pineapple at the open air market, and then went to La Vie Bohemian for aperitivo, which is probably the best cafe in Rome. $8 for aperitivo, with really delicious food, and a really great atmosphere. Really eclectic, and LDM students get a discount. Holla.
Afterwards we all went out to Campo Di Fiori and met Dani's friends from school that were visiting. We chilled at Sloppy Sam's for a bit because Studio 18, the club we were going to go to, was infested with children, and we all felt creepy. hahaha guess that's what happens when there's no age limit.

Now it is Sunday, the day of rest, the day to do all the homework we ignore during our extra long weekend. But more importantly, the day to meet the Pope. Ya, THE POPE. I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned that I can see St. Peters Basilica from my apartment, and it is about a 10 minute walk from me. So this morning we woke up to go hear the Pope address the people. The entire square was filled with people. Some clearly catholic, some clearly not. People had banners and flags and were waiting for the Pope like he was a boy band in the 90's. The devotion was overwhelming, but in a good way.
He spoke on loving your enemy, praying for the trespassers, and loving your friends, family, and God. All of which sounds pretty reasonable to me. He also spoke to the crowd in 6 different languages. Italian (duh), Spanish, French, English, German (duh), and Polish, along with reciting things in Latin. He even said hello to certain groups he knew would be there, like the Carnivale Singers from London, and a group from Colombia. And every time he did, the people went wild. Not only is the leader of your faith speaking, but he knows you're there, and in a crowd of hundreds, maybe thousands, he acknowledges you. That's amazing. I got goosebumps. And I'm Mormon haha.

Now I have to buckle down and do work, because homework is the only thing that makes living here anything real. For crying out loud, I eat all day long, pastries and pasta, and I'm LOSING weight. You tell me this is real life. Because it's not.

The catch up

Due to the fact that Paris zapped me of all my brain power, I have been a little behind on all the other things I have been up to.

First of all, Valentines Day happened. And It was perfect. I went to a very fancy restaurant with a very handsome gentleman who pulled out my chair and treated me like a lady for the entire evening. This place was actually known for the fact that all the Popes and Cardinals come to eat there. Which is a little bit of a big deal.
Prior to my fancy Vday dinner, LDM (my university, if you can even call it that) set up what they were calling a "Cultural Exchange" meaning we all go to apperitivo at a bar and meet up with Italian students and practice our italian and hopefully make some friends along the way.
I met a couple cool people, but the ages were actually really randomly spread out. There were some middle aged lawyers and balding engineers, so it was a little awkward at some points. Also, they were all there to practice their english, so the whole speaking italian thing, wasnt going according to plan.
But in all honesty, I really do think I'm improving. I got my nails done the other day, and my manicurist didnt really speak english very well, so we relied on my italian to get us by. And she didnt hack off my fingers, so I guess I did alright.

Wednesday night I went with my study abroad program, API, to go see Swan Lake. I was so excited I thought I was gonna pass out (funny, until you realize I faint all the time, haha).
Now here is the thing about API; there are two schools, JCU and LDM. JCU has around 200 students, LDM has well, ummm 27. How that dynamic works out I have no idea. But regardless, only three of us from LDM decided we wanted to go see the Ballet, so we were out numbered by around 60. We kept calling each other the red-headed step children of API because we were so outnumbered and all kind of felt a little awkward.
Thankfully, I got to meet up with two of my really good friends from school, who go to JCU so I was happy as a clam (not too sure why clams are happy, but I roll with it).
Swan Lake was absolutely beautiful. From the moment it started I had goose bumps. There was just so much elegance to the way the dancers moved their bodies. It was like they were weightless. The guys picked them up and swung them around like they were stuffed animals. But I mean, they were probably some of the skinniest women I have ever seen second to Crystal, so I'm sure it wasnt too hard of a task.
As I watched in complete amazement it hit me why I love dance so much. All my life I've loved language, and have always had the good fortune of being bilingual and being able to relate and communicate with lots of different people, even more so now that I am solidifying my knowledge of a third language. But dance is universal. There were no words, because it's a ballet, but yet everyone around me (with an IQ over 60 and an attention span) knew what was going on, what the characters were feeling, and felt the emotion. The audience's emotions swayed with the movements of the dancers. And that is beautiful. That is a universal language.

Side note: i just watched John test the sharpness of a knife by sliding it against his finger tips. Thankfully neither were too sharp. Only a boy would do that.

In other news, I've been making myself meals. YEAH I KNOW. You almost thought it could happen huh? Ya, me too. I mean they havent been grand four course meals or anything, but it is a grand step above ramen with lemon and hot sauce (as delicious as that may be).

Today we're taking a little adventure to Orvieto, or at least I think we are. I'm going with the boys, and boys need to eat around 50 times before they go anywhere. But I'm not complaining, I get to enjoy the spoils.

la vie est magnifique!

Ok, so I went to Paris and didnt have the internet for four days (yes, and I lived, which means you all can too! hazza!) so I didnt get to keep a daily blog of what was happening. To be honest though, I probably wouldnt have been able to. By the time my days were over my brain had just shut off. No amount of redbull or coffee could save me ha.
But I will do my best to accurately depict what happened. This will probably be really long...guess we'll find out how much you really like my blog if you read the whole thing or not hahaha

So the night before I attempted watching the Duke v. North Carolina game, which started at 3am...Italian time. Needless to say, that didnt really go as planned, but I still only got around 2 1/2 hours of sleep because our taxi was coming at 4:15 to bring us to the bus station. The bus station that would then bring us to the airport. So at 4 am the four of us, Erika, Ashley, John and myself head out on our first trip out of italy. So after one taxi ride, one bus ride, and a 2 and a 1/2 hour plane ride, we arrive in an airport an hour out of paris, so we take yet another bus into Paris!
Paris really is beautiful. Right off the bat I knew I liked the city. And right off the bat I knew I did NOT like the people. They kind of suck. And smell. Which is a pretty shitty combo. Apparently deodorant is not a country favorite in Paris. Womp womp.
My whole life I wanted to go to Paris to see all the fashionistas. To look at everyone's chic style. And to eat a baguette wearing stripes. So I obviously packed accordingly. I put together the chicest outfits I could fit into a backpack, and prayed it would suffice.
It did. There was no one too fashionable that blew my mind in Paris, which was almost a let down. I was looking for inspiration I guess.
Anyways, day one began at 11:30am. And right away I remembered "Damn, I dont speak french" and right away, that became a problem. The french dont take kindly to people who dont speak french, and really dont care to speak english, which causes quite the communication barrier. Something I havent ever really had a problem with, because my italian is better than I thought, and Spanish always comes in handy. So I felt like a fish out of water. But instead of panicking in true Meghan fashion, I chilled out and let myself be a tourist.
We had to find our hostel from the metro station, which thankfully was easier than I had expected. And speaking of expectations, I literally had none for this hostel. I just prayed that it wasnt like the movie Hostel. I could deal with everything else. I was prepared for the worse. But was pleasantly surprised. Peace and Love Hostel was perfect for us. The minute we walked in we met Nyema (sp?) who was probably the coolest most outrageous foreign woman I have met that isnt my mom. She was so fun and made us feel right at home. Now this place wasnt the Ritz Carlton or anything, but it was all we needed, and we were happy.
So the first order of business was eating. We all had stank faces on, and our conversational skills were lacking because we were all hungry. So Nyema recommended Chez Papa, a restaurant down the street from the hostel.
The french are fricken weird. Everything was duck, innards, snails, basically the shit you pull out of the turkey and throw away. It doesnt help that I'm super picky and that everything makes me sick, so I was having some issues with the cuisine.
I thought I played it safe and ordered steak. False! It was almost raw, so I almost puked everywhere, because I could almost hear the cow mooing on my plate. Not ok.
But after the food fail, we did what you're assuming we did and hit up the Eiffel Tower. And it's funny because we were making jokes on the metro saying things like "I'll pay you to go up to someone when we get there and ask where the Eiffel tower is" and then we get off the metro and we're looking around and looking on the map as to where to go, and over the trees I see this metal thing and I go "Hey guys isnt that it?" and they all chuckle and little and are like "pshhh nah it's like a cell phone tower thing, thats too ugly." Welp. Guess verizon has an Eiffel shaped cell phone tower, because I was right! hahahahaha On a scale from one to dumb ass we were all feeling a little on the 's' side.
We climbed all 669 stairs to get to the top, which wasnt as tiring as I was expecting it to be on 2 and 1/2 hours of sleep. And the view was worth every step.
And from that view I saw a Ferris Wheel. And because I'm 5, I begged everyone to let me go to it. Also because I'm five I didnt realize that my distance perception was wayyyyy off from what I was expecting. But everyone played nice and let me go.
It was Johns first time on a Ferris Wheel, and I got candy after, so it was totally worth it in the end, if you ask me.
On our way back we passed the fancy shopping area, that had both street break dancers, a massive H&M, and a starbucks, so I could've stayed there all night. Expect no one else was feelin it but me, so we left abruptly. But not before I found 5 euro, which compensated me for the candy I bought earlier. Score.
We wearily made our way back to the hostel and quickly found out that our bar gets bumpin at night. So bumpin in fact, that Ashley said "I'm so happy there's a hostel in our bar" hahaha
We met the coolest people. Right away the bar tender was talking to me, and I received my first round of free shots. To which I quickly informed him that I didnt drink. He looked at me for a minute, shook his head, looked again and said "An American that doesnt drink?? I didnt think those existed?!" bahaha But luckily for me, he stayed cool and supplied me with free pineapple juice the rest of the night! Score again!
I made friends with a boy named Matt, from Brazil, who was just in france to kill time before going to spain for school. We talked for a bit in spanish, and everyone socialized. Around 11:30 Matt invited us to a party. And for some reason, I said yes, which I never ever do. But we all hopped on the metro, and hoped for the best.
But then the po-po messed everything up. And I got arrested.

haha jk

But they did ruin everything. Erika forgot her metro pass in the hostel, and just slid through with John. We were not aware that the cops would be down by the trains checking metro passes. Because she didnt have hers, they fined her 40 euros. Yeah. It was a total buzz kill, and it made Erika want to do an immediate U turn back to the hostel. Which we ended up doing. But it was for the better! Because I had redbull! And bumpin music! But eventually exhaustion got the best of us and we called it a night. Saying goodnight to our new friends Brenda, Travis, Matt, and Chris.

Day 2 The Louvre. Ya, I chilled with the Mono Lisa, nbd. Except it totally is! But you cant do it all in a day. There is just so much to see. And you want to let everything soak in, because it is all so beautiful. Some of it is even haunting. If you ever get a chance to go, do it.
Besides that, the next eventful thing to happen that afternoon was the shammered guy on the metro back that grabbed on to Erika's neck. It wasnt funny when it happened, but as I type this I'm cracking myself up because he just kept telling us he wanted to introduce us to his good friend, in spanish. He was clearly and couple bottles and needles deep. You cant cry. So you just gotta laugh. Right? Well I did, Erika, clearly didnt.
That night we decided we wanted a little taste of the Parisian night life, and I had found me some cheap redbull. So I was ready to shake my groove thang. Ya I said it.
We ended up find a bar called Charlotte Bar, which THRILLED John because that the name of his home town in NC, and it thrilled me because I heard reggaeton bumpin from the inside. So I mean, it couldve been called "The worst bar of all time" and I still wouldve gone in because it had spanish music. So it got on and poppin. I danced like it was my job, and we all seemed to have a great time. Especially when I found 5 euro... again! I also got deep fried chinese food after at like 2 am, which was awesome. Chinese food is always exciting because you're almost playing Russian Roulette, you're taking the chance that this food could possibly give you some crazy disease because they mixed too many cat intestines together. But it tastes so good that the fat kid inside you blocks out your logic.
Tragically enough, after all of the festivities, ALL OF MY PICTURES GOT DELETED.
Ya. I almost cried. Actually, I'd being lying if I didnt tell you that I teared up a little bit. But worse things have happened to better people. So I sucked it up and proceeded with Erika's 21st bday celebration the next day.

Now, 21 is nothing special to europeans. So whenever we would excitedly tell people it was her 21st, people just kind of looked at us like we were stupid haha
We didnt know what to do during the day to make Erika's Bday memorable. So we clearly made the obvious decision of going to the Red Light district of Paris, and seeing maybe 50 sex shops in a row, followed by a visit to the sex museum. If you're ever looking for a way to completely abstain from sex, go to the sex museum and look at the plethora of pictures of women who havent shaved their gine since they came out of the womb. Or better yet, just look at all the creepy versions of the devil and his dick. You'll become a nun after that.
We saw Moulin Rouge as well, and we wouldve seen a show, if it wasnt hella expensive. And I mean why pay 150 euro for a Burlesque show when down the street you can go into a little booth and get your own private little show for like 20 euro. I mean, a little less class and a little more herpes, but you win some you lose some.
We went to Chez Papa for dinner again, because we didnt know anywhere else, and we were too scared to be in the red light district at night hahaha
Shortly after dinner we started getting ready for out night life adventures.
Now by this time somethings had happened here and there that hadnt put me in the greatest of moods. but I shrugged it off and played nice.
We were invited to this underground club at a friend of a friends place. No cover, cheap beer, and everyone's happy right? ha. It was actually pretty rad. It was in an abandoned train station, and there were a bunch of french punks and hipsters everywhere. I can have a good time anywhere, so I was content with chillin there, talking, getting to know people, etc.
Tragically, it was smokers paradise in there, and I was getting the black lung, and the bday girl wasnt exactly feelin it. So we said our goodbyes and went on our merry way back to Charlotte Bar, only this time some more things had happened that had kind of peeved me a little more, and it was getting harder and harder to shrug it off. But again, I played nice.
It wasnt nearly as bumpin as the first time we went, and this time around, it was like highschool night because there was a slew of shit faced little girls everywhere. And it was then that I realized that because of girls like that, dancing on the tables, and falling off them, there is a drinking age in the US. So to avoid feeling like pedophiles, we decided to go to a huge dance club. The strobe light, fog machine, E poppin kind of club. And generally I wouldve been ecstatic to being going to such a huge club, especially one with no cover for girls, but more things had gone down, and it was now around 12:30am, so I was too tired to just shrug it off. So the team split up. Because I was a hop skip and a jump away from being Satan.
But that didnt stop me from dancing like it was my business until 3 in the morning. It did however stopped me from breathing out of my nostrils because the french dont believe in showers apparently? Idk, but it was smelling like something rank in that place. Luckily I was high off of dancing, or else I might have died.
Now it is three am and it's time to go home, and like I said, somethings have gone down that have me a little more fierce than festive, everyone is exhausted, we cant get a cab, and bday girl is not in a good mood anymore. So we start walking back to where we think our hostel is. And all hope is lost, until, while waiting at a crosswalk, a man comes up to me and asks me where I'm from. Now, I dont talk to strangers generally, but I look over and the very drunk woman he had come out of a restaurant with was smoking with Erika, so I responded that I was from the states and he said me too and proceeded to brag about how much money he and his wife had just spent on this fabulous bagillion course meal. So, to politely get him to stfu, I said "oh man you have to stop talking like that, I'm starving". He looks at me and says "oh, well then come on we're all getting pizza" and proceeds to make the fancy ass restaurant open up and let all 6 of us inside to eat. Normally I would never accept such an offer, but I was pissed, hungry, tired cold, and hungry (oh I said it twice? I meant to). This man bought all six of us Pizza, and the biggest beers ever. Which I poured into his drunk wife's mug while no one was watching, so that she could get even more hammered, and I wouldnt look rude. He also paid, and then went over to his hotel at 5am and called us a cab. I couldnt make this up if I tried. This guy was ridiculous, but hilarious, and probably more so because we were all deliriously tired. He told me that if it wasnt for my cute knee high socks he wouldve never talked to us. How nice? hahaha
It was kind of like duex es machina, because if it hadnt been for this divine intervention, the night probably wouldve ended shitty.

Fast forward to 5 hours later to me running around like a crazy person trying to get pictures of the Eiffel Tower before we left. Luckily John was down to go with me, because the bitties definitely werent. AND I got to get a Venti Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks, which was a huge mood changer because coffee in Italy is served in a thimble.
The rest of the day consisted of shopping for me and John, and then taking a metro to get to the bus to get to to the plane to get to the bus to get to the taxi that finally brought us to Rome.

It has taken me almost 4 days to write this out, so if my thoughts seem a little more spastic than usual, that's why. Paris was amazing, but I am definitely suffering the consequences of too much travel and not enough sleep. I'm almost back to normal, but as I finish this up it's coming up on 2am, so I'll probably mess up my sleep pattern again. If I ever even had one. C'est la vie. Right?

I'M IN LOVE!!!!!

With Rome of course. hahaha Gotcha.

Love. It's probably the strangest thing the human race deals with. It makes some people so uncomfortable! Some people literally cant stomach the idea of love. Just the word freaks people out. They can only show love to "things" you know like, "I love my car", "I love my iPod", but never "I love you". Because it's far to vulnerable. Too real. Too raw. Love is love. Once you say it you're established a level in your relationship, and some people just cant handle it.
I love love. I really do. I love everyone. Some people tell me that if I love everyone it isnt real or special. But dont be fooled. If I tell you I love you, I mean it. And I have a heart that has room for everyone. Love doesnt have a limit. It's not like you say it 10 times in your life and on your 11th time you get an electric shock that doesnt let you say it. My family and friends make fun of me all the time because I say I love you like a hundred times before I hang up the phone. But I mean, what if that's our last phone call, ever, and I didnt tell you I love you. How horrible. I mean God willing that doesnt happen any time soon, but gotta  cover  your bases.
Dont be fooled again though. I love you, and I'm IN love with you, are as different as night and day. Black and white. Peace and war. Cats and Dogs! Seriously, they have nothing in common except the word love is in the sentence. And thats where I get tripped up. Because I love to love people. And I love to make people feel special. But it can make people think things that arent so. Because everyone else is so scared of the big "L", that when someone says it, it is a HUGE deal. And theyre reading it wrong. Which makes me sad. I would love to just tell everyone that I love how much I love them all the time. But not everyone is as sappy as I am, and not everyone responds well.
It's tragic that we've become so scared of something so good, because for the most part most of us have no qualms saying "I hate you" and other mean things. But thats because it's so much easier to be mean. To put up a wall. To shut people out. That to put yourself out there. To be real. Because if they dont like you for who you are, you'll fall apart.
Dont do that. Be real. Be raw. Love freely. Love often. Love everyone. It's the only way to be. Not everyone will deserve it, and you'll know them when they come. But for those who do, share the love. You're life will be better. I promise.

Ps I'm going to Paris in a few hours.

It's never goodbye, it's see you later...

Said my farewells via phone today to some very special people in my life. I bet you're confused because I left at the end of January, but they're off to boot camp, then will be stationed in Hawaii before I even make it back to the US. So it was a pretty sappy, snot filled, tear jerking phone call. Luckily no one was home so no one had to see me lookin a mess. Or worse... Showing weakness. Ew.

So one of my previous posts I mentioned that I was going to watch the Super Bowl and an Irish Pub. Well we did, and it was so much fun! Here's the thing though, it was like we were going to a speak easy during the prohibition era... How so you ask? I'll tell you. There were several entrances to this place (called Abbey Theater) but only one door was open, and they were only letting chunks of people in at a time. With this big burly italian man in charge of keeping everyone in order. But I mean, that doesnt really sound like anything out of the ordinary right? It wasnt, until we got inside and saw the capital letter signs everywhere that told us we couldnt cheer, clap, shout, basically be rowdy in any sense of the word. And you're thinking to yourself, "Arent you in a pub? And Irish pub to be exact?" And I was thinking the same thing. I was always under the impression that pubs were the place to get rowdy for sports. Every time Green Bay scored and we would clap and man would come over and say "SHHHHHHH" and no one argued because this man looked like he would not hesitate to pistol whip you.
So after a half time show that was only salvaged by the appearance of Usher, we decided that Green Bay had it in the bag (which they did) and we were going to go home.
Except all the doors were shut down with a metal door (like the kid you have for a garage) and we were like ummmm whats going on...
Turns out this pub wasnt allowed to be open past one, but they decided to be rebels and stay open til five. Which is why we couldnt make any noise.
So we found the bald burly man, and he opened one of the doors and made sure that there was no one coming and let us out. But quickly shut the door behind us. haha
It was actually pretty funny. I mean, an incredible fire hazard, but funny.

Needless to say the next day we were all exhausted because we all got 5 or less hours of sleep. And I mean generally I can handle my "sleep is for the weak" mentality, as long as I am properly fed. BUT on the occasions when I am both over tired, AND hungry...well bad things happen.
I have an alter ego. She isnt a good person. I hide her as well as I can. And she can be tamed with cookies and a nap, but I need real sleep and real food to put her away. It's rather unfortunate really.
Luckily someone thinks I'm special, and decided they were going to take it upon themselves to make me happy, and bought me Sunflowers. Which is my favorite flower. You really cant be in an evil mood when someone buys you flowers. Unless you're actually evil. Or they're being put on your casket. That would be a bummer.

After I tamed the beast I met up with some of the girls in my Film and Mafia class to watch Scarface (the original, we watch the newer one soon). It wasnt the greatest movie I've ever seen, but it was fun to hang out with new people and watch a cinematic classic.
I really like that class. I think I might be the only one though. I'm convinced my teacher is actually in the Mafia. She has like a little spark behind her eye every time she talks about the Mafia. Like I feel like she feels so free to talk about something so secret because she's a part of it, and what a better disguise than to teach about it?! Brilliant! No one would suspect it. Except for me. Because I'm brilliant. Obviously.
Ha, but more so then that, she has just such an interesting manner of speaking and relaying information. She's also kind of a hot mess. But a very Vogue kind of hot mess. One of those women who isnt put together at all, but by not being put together, she manages to look chic? I hate those girls. So lucky. When I dont look put together, I look fugly. No one likes that. She is also like a lot of women in Rome, with very dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothes, and dark mouthes, stained from too many bottles of red wine and copious cartons of cigarettes.
Idk, I like people, so I study them. Makes me sound like a creep. But I do.

In other news, I had to walk to school today. Which is a 45 minute walk. And I mean, I eat a chocolate filled pastry everyday before school, that is the size of my head, so I can use a little extra cardio. But I didnt know how to walk to school...So that took a little bit of map reading. More like map guessing. Kind of hoping that we were looking at the right streets and what not. Luckily we were. The only mishap that we had was we happened to not notice the freshly painted street lines and stepped all up in it. Slipping (but not falling) and leaving little white foot prints everywhere. Oops.
But why did I have to make this walk you ask? Hmmm well no big deal, just a woman decided to kill herself this morning by jumping in front of the metro. And because the metro only runs two ways (annoying, yet so simple) it shuts down. Tragically, turns out this happens a lot here. I would never wanna take myself out that way. So messy. I'm all about clean. Even in death. And look at the inconvenience she caused! hahaha I am fully aware that I am going to hell for things like this, it's ok though, I like it hot.
We wouldve just taken a bus, but there were literally so many people jumping onto the bus that the police had to come regulate it, and the doors werent closing. So people were just smooshed together. I was willing to be late, over having a million strangers grab on me. I'm all set thanks.
There was also some sort of political demonstration near school and SWAT was just chillin there. Idk what was todays deal, but everyone was getting buck wild apparently.

I'm going to go see Much Ado About Nothing tonight! Which is exciting because I love Shakespeare and I love theater. I miss The Guild a lot. I miss being in a play. It's funny, whenever I'm not home the only time I feel totally fulfilled by life is when I'm in a play, doing what I love most. And when I'm not in one, there is this artistic void that I cant seem to fill with anything else.
But when I'm in Rome, I'm always full. My soul is always full. Idc if that sounds corny. Because it's so true.

I've been surviving off of toast and spreadable cheese because I REFUSE to spend money before going to Paris, and toast and cheese is all I have left of my groceries. We leave thursday at around 5 am, which will be rough because I will probably stay up and watch the Carolina Duke game. Because it's a BIG DEAL. In case you werent aware the Chapel Hill and Duke rivalry is the second largest competitive sport rivalry, second to, who else but the Yankees and the Redsox. So ya, shit gets real.

The only thing we have planned for Paris thus far is The Louvre and the Eiffel Tower, but I mean, come on! Those are both such big deals! I'm too excited. I might be getting a little too excited just because I downed two cups of coffee while writing this. Eh, all well.