Customer Quote of the Day:
"The blue squares are the available seats, the gray have been sold."
"What are these?" as she touches the computer screen.
"Those are gray, they've been sold."
"Can I get those?"
"No, no, someone else has already purchased them."
"I'm friends with the Mayor. If I bring his little boy can I get those seats?"
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
A Cluster-Fuck of Introductions
Nice: I'd arrived in Nice on a Sunday night. I had managed to make all my trains with no hassles and the hostel arranges for pickups- which was phenominal with my pack. Ville Saint Exubary I believe the name was. For anyone who's planning to spend any time at all in the south of france, this is the place to be. I quickly met people Monday morning at breakfast (which is free) and spent the day touring around- ending up on the beach with water so blue and clear it may have been a Walt Disney creation. Van Gogh couldn't have chosen a better color for the sea. At dinner that night I met a mess of Australians and Canadians. We ended up drinking the cheap wine and beer at the hostel and eating all night. (1€ beers, 4€ bottles of wine) The next day was spent walking around the markets in Nice, going to the port with million dollar yahts, and eating a posh lunch in a small cafe. I really can't remember every detail of everything because it all meshed into one image of the best city I've been in. Aix-En-Provence was cheaper, and had better food, but the family atmosphere of the hostel in Nice was beyond comparison. After only a day or two, one could wander back from the day's adventures into the warmth of a million friendly faces. Granted, there were a few stereotypical Americans- frat boys with grand misconceptions of traveling, and sullen-faced girls who dressed above the occasion and never seemed to have a moment of fun. But, avoiding that, it was amazing. I went skiing with two Ozzies, a three hour bus trip. Daemon, an older Australian with kids my age, and Caitlin- a 22 year old nurse and I went up to the mountain. After a few days, we began to refer to Daemon as "dad" and he stayed as that until we left. I ended up meeting a girl from Orange County named Amanda- whom after a day of hanging out casually mentioned that she'd been on a TV show with her twin sister. This 6 foot, 20 year old had been fourth place in America's Next Top Model. She was a celebrity, but because I've never seen the program and I know nothing of things of this nature, it was lost on me. We just had a good time. One night, after drinking or "pre-gaming" at the hostel we wandered down to an Irish Pub with quite a large crowd. One of the hostel workers had given us a ride, and with a slue of Canadian boys (from Winnipeg, home of The Weakerthans!) and Amanda and Caitlin and I were escorted by "Dad" because he jokingly thought that 3 girls and 10 boys in their early twenties needed to be guarded. About 15 of us crammed into a Van meant for 8. We ended up missing the last Tram back up, and had to walk an hour and a half uphill back to the hostel. Fucking insane.
It's a small fucking world, because in Wayne's, the pub in Nice, as I was exiting and being pushed out by all the canadian boys, a girl grabbed my arm and asked me, "Did you go to The University of Vermont?" I stared at her, "uhh, yes. How did you know that?"
"You used to date Danny." she said, matter-of-factly. "I'm friends with him and Lauren. You lived in Living and Learning, I remember because you were always changing your hair." I'd been used to this in Burlington, and sometimes Hutington, but to be in Nice, France and for someone to know you when you have no idea who they are is fucking mind-blowing. I was decently drunk, as was she, and although I gave her my email- I never saw her after that.
Another mention on my list of people would have to be Sam, 41 years of age and a British nurse. Upon meeting her you'd think that she couldn't be any older than 28, 30 max. As it turns out, she had grown up with Led Zeppelin's kids and was best friends with Robert Plant's daughter! Apparently she used to go into the recording studio with them all the time. Minorly, she'd also partied with Duran Duran in college.
On the way to Monaco, Cait and I met an ex-pro-tennis player from Australia.
It's insane how many people you meet in travel. I can't say that it was like that in every hostel, this was exceptional. Perhaps we all just had good luck that week with all the people we met.
Now, I'm in Paris for the next couple of days. Last night I went out with the Sweet Canadians that I'd met in Nice, and their two fellow Torontians. Got back to the hostel around 6am, and slept until 3pm. Pure exhaustion.
I'll be in London on Tuesday, and New York late Wednesday night. It'll be good to be home. The consant motion of travel is sheer exhaustion and beyond expensive here, and in the end it's weeeeell worth it, but I'm about ready to sleep in my own bed.
While being away has gotten easier as each day passes in the past 3 weeks, there're still some days (mostly at night, when I'm ready to crawl into bed) when I can't seem to get the color of Mike's eyes out of my mind. The scent of him follows me in my sleep, and I wake from dreams to find that he's not beside me. I think that if he were here, I'd never go home! I know it sounds boring, but I can't wait to settle into the comfort of my simple routines and familiarity. I probably won't work for a little while, and I hope that I can take a trip to Boston to see Lauren for a few days. I think differently of traveling within the U.S. now- it's so CHEAP!
Well, I'm taking it easy tonight, and tomorrow I'll do some touring around Paris.
Gros Bisous mes amies!
It's a small fucking world, because in Wayne's, the pub in Nice, as I was exiting and being pushed out by all the canadian boys, a girl grabbed my arm and asked me, "Did you go to The University of Vermont?" I stared at her, "uhh, yes. How did you know that?"
"You used to date Danny." she said, matter-of-factly. "I'm friends with him and Lauren. You lived in Living and Learning, I remember because you were always changing your hair." I'd been used to this in Burlington, and sometimes Hutington, but to be in Nice, France and for someone to know you when you have no idea who they are is fucking mind-blowing. I was decently drunk, as was she, and although I gave her my email- I never saw her after that.
Another mention on my list of people would have to be Sam, 41 years of age and a British nurse. Upon meeting her you'd think that she couldn't be any older than 28, 30 max. As it turns out, she had grown up with Led Zeppelin's kids and was best friends with Robert Plant's daughter! Apparently she used to go into the recording studio with them all the time. Minorly, she'd also partied with Duran Duran in college.
On the way to Monaco, Cait and I met an ex-pro-tennis player from Australia.
It's insane how many people you meet in travel. I can't say that it was like that in every hostel, this was exceptional. Perhaps we all just had good luck that week with all the people we met.
Now, I'm in Paris for the next couple of days. Last night I went out with the Sweet Canadians that I'd met in Nice, and their two fellow Torontians. Got back to the hostel around 6am, and slept until 3pm. Pure exhaustion.
I'll be in London on Tuesday, and New York late Wednesday night. It'll be good to be home. The consant motion of travel is sheer exhaustion and beyond expensive here, and in the end it's weeeeell worth it, but I'm about ready to sleep in my own bed.
While being away has gotten easier as each day passes in the past 3 weeks, there're still some days (mostly at night, when I'm ready to crawl into bed) when I can't seem to get the color of Mike's eyes out of my mind. The scent of him follows me in my sleep, and I wake from dreams to find that he's not beside me. I think that if he were here, I'd never go home! I know it sounds boring, but I can't wait to settle into the comfort of my simple routines and familiarity. I probably won't work for a little while, and I hope that I can take a trip to Boston to see Lauren for a few days. I think differently of traveling within the U.S. now- it's so CHEAP!
Well, I'm taking it easy tonight, and tomorrow I'll do some touring around Paris.
Gros Bisous mes amies!
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Insanity insanity
alright, so I said I'd update this frequently, but that became a little diffult. What with paying out the ass at hostels and internet cafes and the difficult foreign keyboards its been hard to actually sit down and write. Internet is free here. So, I guess I'll start with Barcelona.
Barcelona: I arrived in Barcelona in the late evening just when the sun was setting and had a hellish time getting to the baggage claim. Not speaking Spanish also put me in an odd situation because NO ONE there speaks english. If they do, it's hello, goodbye, and thats pretty much it. I finally found my hostel, in which no one spoke english, and couldn't locate my friend Heather whom I had traveled so far to meet. I had a bit of a breakdown in The Ramblas and Catalunyas, pacing back and forth in hysterics and calling Mike in incomprehensible sobs. I ended up finding two Alaskan guys who calmed me down, took me out to find food, as I hadn't eaten in over 10 hours, and a beer. Getting back to the hostel I was planning on leaving the next morning to anywhere that I could speak English or French. Barcelona is also pretty sketchy at night. The next morning, I found Heather at breakfast. I showered, ate, and we met up with her friend Caitlin to tour around the city a little. That night, we ended up going out with a huge group of people from the hostel. 2 girls from Colorado, an Argentinian, 2 girls from SUNY New Paltz, a frnech guy, and the three of us. We went to dinner, bought cheap wine and pregamed at the hostel. After, we went to The Black Sheep and order some very large spanish beers. Sitting down, i ended up talking to a guy from France, a Mexican, and an Irish guy who were there together. At 3am the bar closed, and we all returned to the hostel in a drunken clusterfuck. I was locked in coversation with the french guy, Charles, and Heather had assumed that we were flirting. It was completely in French, because he spoke very little English, and when she listened closely she realized that I was talking passionately about Mike, and he about his girlfriend. We talked about love, romance, the difference in other countries, and what true affection was. We stayed up till 5h30 chain smoking and drinking. The next morning was hangover day. A little bittle of tourism and an early night to catch a train to Montpelier, a train to Marseilles, and a bus to Aix where our mutual friend Rebecca is studying and Heather's friend Misty met us there.
Aix En Provence: Our hostel was nearly a campsite, 20min from the town walking. After a night there we booked a hotel room for the three of us for the same price. Well, the first hotel, I lugged Mistys large suitcase and my Backpack up a flight of stairs and checked in under the pretense that it was just me. Im the most obvious looking. We had a method of going in and out that got the three of us sleeping in one bed. Aix En Provence was AMAZING. Its this small, beautiful little city in the south. Things were decently cheap, and everyone was so nice. Beautiful weather that prompted us to walk around for hours and for me to retire to a cafe in Place de Hotel de Ville to read and sip my espresso for hours. I was truely content. In the hotel the first, and only night, I climbed out the window for a cigarette and to call Mike. When I climbed back in, Heather and Misty had found free porn on TV. Naturally, we watched it. We were laughing hysterically, joking, goofing around, and we hadn't realized that it was past 1am and french hotels have walls that are paper thin. After turning off the TV, an hour at least of porn swelling in our heads as the three of us then had to sleep in one small bed, and turning off the lights we were still giggling. Then, a rapid knock on the door. We instantly quieted and froze in fear of being kicked out of our hotel. It was a woman staying there, who was trying to sleep. The next morning we knew we couldn't stay another night. Heather and Misty booked it with the large suitcase and I stayed behind for a few minutes. When I cooly emerged for checkout, the concierge glared at me and interogated me about how many people were staying in the room. As I attempted to lie, as its insanely difficult to do in a foreign language, she yelled at me for a few minutes and made me pay 10 Euros more. Phew. The next hotel room, Heather and I booked it for the two of us, a lesbian couple, and Misty played the role of our friend who WASNT staying with us. It all worked out just fine. We spent 2 nights there without a problem and came back each time when a different concierge was there. In Aix, at a bar, Heather and Misty picked up a group of guys for the soul purpose of flirting and free drinks. Not really my cup of tea, but I had to play along. Having talked about Mike fucking non stop they were worried I'd blurt something out and we'd lose out free drinks. I ended up saying something at the second bar, when a band was playing and I didn't want anyone to be under the pretense that I'd be going home with them. The guy I said something to sighed with relief because he was in the same situation and his friends were playing the same game with mine. That ended up being a 6h30 am night. The next day, I was inclined to just sit and read, as we'd woken up late. That night, they went to a bar and stayed till 4am while I slept soundly. After just an hours sleep for them, we woke up to catch a bus and two trains to Brussels where Heather had a friend we could stay with. In Lyon, where we caught the train to Brussels, my train was an hour earlier so I'd wait for them there. I waited in hour in Brussels till 8pm, and called them. Heather had texted me, which didn't go through, that their train never showed up and that they were in Paris on the way to Le Mans where they're studying. 8h30 at this point, and I was FUCKED. I had no where to stay, no idea where anything was, and it was getting to be really late. I could only think of one place to go. Ann's. I had no number to call her with, and no internet. I just hopped on a train to Paris.
Paris: Once I got to Paris I had to wait till 6h30, a total of 8 hours for a train to Bayeux. The station Gare St. Lazare is fucking sketchy as hell. I found an insanely expensive cafe and held out there for an hour, filthy, and exhausted after over 12 hours of non stop travel, and finally had to leave. I stayed in the station where all the cops were clustered. The station was clearing out, and I remembered that things actually close down in Paris. I'm a major target with all my shit out on the streets. When a group of cops approached me to tell me the station was closing, I began to cry hysterically. I explained, in sobs of broken French, that I had no where to go, what had happened, and they told me to wait a few minutes and they walked away. When they returned, I was still blubbering in fear when they asked me to come with them. They put my suitcase in security, and closed down the train station. They then explained to me that they were setting up an empty train in the station for me to sleep in. They found m a car with long benches, made sure I was safe, and that I wasn't hungry. The train was cold because the heat was off, no lights either, but I was safe and I'd packed a blanket. This was at 1am. At 5h30, a really nice guy woke me up and helped me get my things. He informed me that there wasn't a train till 9am. Then, he took me to an office that was warm and cozy and I could smoke inside. He made sure I was okay, and that I knew exactly where i was going. At 9h, I boarded a train to Bayeux.
Bayeux: I arrived, beaten, battered, exhausted and smelling so horrible that people leaned away. I remembered her address and took a taxi there. Knocked on the door, rang the doorbell. No answer. Again, with the water works. I sat on her stoop for an hour. Walked around to the place I thought she might bed. No where to be found. I lost it again. 30 hours of traveling chaos. Eventually, her neighbors across the street who had remembered me from last year, came to me. They took me inside, where I thanked them endlessly, and called Anns family, everyone in her family, to get in touch with her and her brother. Now, at this point Ann had returned home from a dance class to find a note from me taped on her door that I was looking for her. In shock, she was driving around town looking for me while I sat across the street. Finally, she found me. I showered, ate, did laundry, and was so relieved to be somewhere familiar where I'd spent a week last January. We spent the night talking, drinking, eating. It was so comforting. She had to leave this afternoon for her brothers motorbike race, so I took a train to Paris. Again. From Paris I took a train to Nice where I am now. I was ready to travel again, with fresh everything.
will update on Nice later.
Mike, I love you.
Barcelona: I arrived in Barcelona in the late evening just when the sun was setting and had a hellish time getting to the baggage claim. Not speaking Spanish also put me in an odd situation because NO ONE there speaks english. If they do, it's hello, goodbye, and thats pretty much it. I finally found my hostel, in which no one spoke english, and couldn't locate my friend Heather whom I had traveled so far to meet. I had a bit of a breakdown in The Ramblas and Catalunyas, pacing back and forth in hysterics and calling Mike in incomprehensible sobs. I ended up finding two Alaskan guys who calmed me down, took me out to find food, as I hadn't eaten in over 10 hours, and a beer. Getting back to the hostel I was planning on leaving the next morning to anywhere that I could speak English or French. Barcelona is also pretty sketchy at night. The next morning, I found Heather at breakfast. I showered, ate, and we met up with her friend Caitlin to tour around the city a little. That night, we ended up going out with a huge group of people from the hostel. 2 girls from Colorado, an Argentinian, 2 girls from SUNY New Paltz, a frnech guy, and the three of us. We went to dinner, bought cheap wine and pregamed at the hostel. After, we went to The Black Sheep and order some very large spanish beers. Sitting down, i ended up talking to a guy from France, a Mexican, and an Irish guy who were there together. At 3am the bar closed, and we all returned to the hostel in a drunken clusterfuck. I was locked in coversation with the french guy, Charles, and Heather had assumed that we were flirting. It was completely in French, because he spoke very little English, and when she listened closely she realized that I was talking passionately about Mike, and he about his girlfriend. We talked about love, romance, the difference in other countries, and what true affection was. We stayed up till 5h30 chain smoking and drinking. The next morning was hangover day. A little bittle of tourism and an early night to catch a train to Montpelier, a train to Marseilles, and a bus to Aix where our mutual friend Rebecca is studying and Heather's friend Misty met us there.
Aix En Provence: Our hostel was nearly a campsite, 20min from the town walking. After a night there we booked a hotel room for the three of us for the same price. Well, the first hotel, I lugged Mistys large suitcase and my Backpack up a flight of stairs and checked in under the pretense that it was just me. Im the most obvious looking. We had a method of going in and out that got the three of us sleeping in one bed. Aix En Provence was AMAZING. Its this small, beautiful little city in the south. Things were decently cheap, and everyone was so nice. Beautiful weather that prompted us to walk around for hours and for me to retire to a cafe in Place de Hotel de Ville to read and sip my espresso for hours. I was truely content. In the hotel the first, and only night, I climbed out the window for a cigarette and to call Mike. When I climbed back in, Heather and Misty had found free porn on TV. Naturally, we watched it. We were laughing hysterically, joking, goofing around, and we hadn't realized that it was past 1am and french hotels have walls that are paper thin. After turning off the TV, an hour at least of porn swelling in our heads as the three of us then had to sleep in one small bed, and turning off the lights we were still giggling. Then, a rapid knock on the door. We instantly quieted and froze in fear of being kicked out of our hotel. It was a woman staying there, who was trying to sleep. The next morning we knew we couldn't stay another night. Heather and Misty booked it with the large suitcase and I stayed behind for a few minutes. When I cooly emerged for checkout, the concierge glared at me and interogated me about how many people were staying in the room. As I attempted to lie, as its insanely difficult to do in a foreign language, she yelled at me for a few minutes and made me pay 10 Euros more. Phew. The next hotel room, Heather and I booked it for the two of us, a lesbian couple, and Misty played the role of our friend who WASNT staying with us. It all worked out just fine. We spent 2 nights there without a problem and came back each time when a different concierge was there. In Aix, at a bar, Heather and Misty picked up a group of guys for the soul purpose of flirting and free drinks. Not really my cup of tea, but I had to play along. Having talked about Mike fucking non stop they were worried I'd blurt something out and we'd lose out free drinks. I ended up saying something at the second bar, when a band was playing and I didn't want anyone to be under the pretense that I'd be going home with them. The guy I said something to sighed with relief because he was in the same situation and his friends were playing the same game with mine. That ended up being a 6h30 am night. The next day, I was inclined to just sit and read, as we'd woken up late. That night, they went to a bar and stayed till 4am while I slept soundly. After just an hours sleep for them, we woke up to catch a bus and two trains to Brussels where Heather had a friend we could stay with. In Lyon, where we caught the train to Brussels, my train was an hour earlier so I'd wait for them there. I waited in hour in Brussels till 8pm, and called them. Heather had texted me, which didn't go through, that their train never showed up and that they were in Paris on the way to Le Mans where they're studying. 8h30 at this point, and I was FUCKED. I had no where to stay, no idea where anything was, and it was getting to be really late. I could only think of one place to go. Ann's. I had no number to call her with, and no internet. I just hopped on a train to Paris.
Paris: Once I got to Paris I had to wait till 6h30, a total of 8 hours for a train to Bayeux. The station Gare St. Lazare is fucking sketchy as hell. I found an insanely expensive cafe and held out there for an hour, filthy, and exhausted after over 12 hours of non stop travel, and finally had to leave. I stayed in the station where all the cops were clustered. The station was clearing out, and I remembered that things actually close down in Paris. I'm a major target with all my shit out on the streets. When a group of cops approached me to tell me the station was closing, I began to cry hysterically. I explained, in sobs of broken French, that I had no where to go, what had happened, and they told me to wait a few minutes and they walked away. When they returned, I was still blubbering in fear when they asked me to come with them. They put my suitcase in security, and closed down the train station. They then explained to me that they were setting up an empty train in the station for me to sleep in. They found m a car with long benches, made sure I was safe, and that I wasn't hungry. The train was cold because the heat was off, no lights either, but I was safe and I'd packed a blanket. This was at 1am. At 5h30, a really nice guy woke me up and helped me get my things. He informed me that there wasn't a train till 9am. Then, he took me to an office that was warm and cozy and I could smoke inside. He made sure I was okay, and that I knew exactly where i was going. At 9h, I boarded a train to Bayeux.
Bayeux: I arrived, beaten, battered, exhausted and smelling so horrible that people leaned away. I remembered her address and took a taxi there. Knocked on the door, rang the doorbell. No answer. Again, with the water works. I sat on her stoop for an hour. Walked around to the place I thought she might bed. No where to be found. I lost it again. 30 hours of traveling chaos. Eventually, her neighbors across the street who had remembered me from last year, came to me. They took me inside, where I thanked them endlessly, and called Anns family, everyone in her family, to get in touch with her and her brother. Now, at this point Ann had returned home from a dance class to find a note from me taped on her door that I was looking for her. In shock, she was driving around town looking for me while I sat across the street. Finally, she found me. I showered, ate, did laundry, and was so relieved to be somewhere familiar where I'd spent a week last January. We spent the night talking, drinking, eating. It was so comforting. She had to leave this afternoon for her brothers motorbike race, so I took a train to Paris. Again. From Paris I took a train to Nice where I am now. I was ready to travel again, with fresh everything.
will update on Nice later.
Mike, I love you.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Not much time left after my emails to update, so I'll do it quick. I found an awesome cafe about 5 blocks from the hostel. Pretty hippy-dippy with a taste of punk like most of Camden Town. This area is like a mix between St. Marks Street and China Town. It's cool. Bought myself a nice little shoulder bag for £10 which has done me a great deal of good. Jet lag wore off, and I got a somewhat proper shower this morning. Beds are decent too, I'm on the top-bunk in an 8bed room. Girls giggling and loudly "whispering" in spanish last night kept me up later than I'd like, until some old brit began to whisper yell at them and suggestively cough loudly. I'm going to make my reservation for Paris in a few, and from Paris tomorrow morning I'll head down to Barcelona to meet up with Heather. Should be nice. 3 Minutes left! Damnit.
Well, love and kisses to you all. Mike, read your email and I love you. Tammy, they've got the coolest clothes here, you'd love it!
Time's up! Bye
Well, love and kisses to you all. Mike, read your email and I love you. Tammy, they've got the coolest clothes here, you'd love it!
Time's up! Bye
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Jet lag and the tube
Here I am in London. I didn't sleep well the night before, but it was def. worth it to wake up with those baby blues. The flight was long, and being in a space smaller than the box office without a smoke break and unable to sleep was a little less than enjoyable. I arrived in London at about 6am, 1am our time, into an immense fog. Getting out into the fresh air to smoke one, it felt like when I arrived in Paris last year. But I suppose all airports are pretty much the same. It's nice to arrive and hear english, very nice, even if I can't understand them all the time. It's funny because I was so intent on listening to the accents on the plane, and I realized that it's because I've never been so bombarded with the british, and I guess I feel like I'm watching a movie and have the right to listen in on whatever they my be saying. I met an Australian kid on the tube when I got on from the airport. We both had big backpacks, so I guess it warented a conversation. I couldn't understand half of what he was saying and ended up staring, doe-eyed and confused when he looked to me for coversational cues. I was offered weed right out of the tube in Camden Town, which my brother had warned me about.
I have Tammy's charms looped through my belt loop and tucked in my pocket. They play well as worry stones.
After passing my hostel a few times, I finally had a very nice fruit vendor point out that I was standing in front of it. I bought a pear for 20 pence, and ate it ravenously like eve straight out of Eden. I couldn't check in (meaning for me the one thought which was sleep, should be delayed) but the girl at the front showed me to a couch downstairs. I slept for hours, but not uninterupted. I slept with my travel pillow/blanket and my pack under my head. People ate around me, talked loudly, a man swept the room and knocked the couch a good number of times. I eventually passed through some good rest when another girl found the other couch and camped out as well. When one of the guys (mr. sweepy-sweepy-knock the couch) touched the bottom of my foot to tell me I could check in, it was 2pm and I couldn't possibly go to sleep then. Thus far, I've wandered around and come here, to this little internet place. 1£ an hour- not bad.
I miss mike so much it's hard to breathe just thinking about it, and his email made me tear up in front of complete strangers. I could go on listing all the things I miss about him, but to make it short: everything.
I wish Tammy, Tanya, Lauren or Ann were here for a cup of coffee and a smoke. I'd like a real friend right now.
To anyone that reads, love you all.
Will update frequently. Going to Paris either tomorrow night, or Friday morning, and straight on to Barcelona via train from there.
In the frequently heard words of the brits, "cheers"
I have Tammy's charms looped through my belt loop and tucked in my pocket. They play well as worry stones.
After passing my hostel a few times, I finally had a very nice fruit vendor point out that I was standing in front of it. I bought a pear for 20 pence, and ate it ravenously like eve straight out of Eden. I couldn't check in (meaning for me the one thought which was sleep, should be delayed) but the girl at the front showed me to a couch downstairs. I slept for hours, but not uninterupted. I slept with my travel pillow/blanket and my pack under my head. People ate around me, talked loudly, a man swept the room and knocked the couch a good number of times. I eventually passed through some good rest when another girl found the other couch and camped out as well. When one of the guys (mr. sweepy-sweepy-knock the couch) touched the bottom of my foot to tell me I could check in, it was 2pm and I couldn't possibly go to sleep then. Thus far, I've wandered around and come here, to this little internet place. 1£ an hour- not bad.
I miss mike so much it's hard to breathe just thinking about it, and his email made me tear up in front of complete strangers. I could go on listing all the things I miss about him, but to make it short: everything.
I wish Tammy, Tanya, Lauren or Ann were here for a cup of coffee and a smoke. I'd like a real friend right now.
To anyone that reads, love you all.
Will update frequently. Going to Paris either tomorrow night, or Friday morning, and straight on to Barcelona via train from there.
In the frequently heard words of the brits, "cheers"
Friday, February 8, 2008
Cage lining and toilet paper money
I might as well wipe my ass with the US Dollar. I'm dizzy from the exchange rate when ordering my pounds and euros. Euros weren't half as bad as Sterling. For 75 pounds it came to 155 USD! 200 Euros came to 307 USD. When I said pounds, the girl on the phone (citibank) asked me which country the currency was for. Curious.
All I have to say is, Fuck Bush- our money is now worth NOTHING.
If I had a bird, I'd line its cage with my paychecks.
All I have to say is, Fuck Bush- our money is now worth NOTHING.
If I had a bird, I'd line its cage with my paychecks.
The time before the beginning, the end of the first part.
I'm sitting here in the kitchen with maps spread around me, a full cup of coffee that's growing cold and marking possible rail-way paths with a sharpie in the gray morning light. It's strange, because I've been planning this trip (or planning on it rather) and catering to the idea of it for nearly a year now. My mentality was always that it was far on the horizon, untouchable almost. Now, it's a week and a half till my departure and it still doesn't seem real. People keep asking if I'm excited, which is sort of irritating really because I don't know if I am or not. I'll be excited when I'm on that plane hopping across the Atlantic- that's when my heart will catch in my throat with anxiety and anticipation of who knows what. I'm going into this without expecation or any clear form of a vision. When I'm asked what I'm expecting or what I'll do, it's like asking a blind person what their favorite color is. I'm quite fuzzy on all of this, like I'm groping in the dark.
As of late I've been "settling my affairs." Finishing up my reapplication to SUNY New Paltz, changing the oil in my car, cleaning through my room, and setting up my journey's finances.
I had a small moment of freedom when I took the stud out of my nose and replaced it with my old ring, something that isn't allowed at the theater I work at. Thursday is my last day of work and I'll be bleaching most of my head and dying it pink again. The bleach kit I bought is sitting on the backseat of my car, wrapped up in its paper bag. I stare at it from time to time, thinking I'll be back soon. Here comes Ashley, where has she been?
There're small creature comforts that I'll miss, the tiny little parts of everyday that we barely notice. Large cups of coffee, mmm. My bed, my shower, the smell of my house and the stacks of books filling my room. The larger things are a few friends, and Mike. Those blue eyes. Climbing into bed with him to watch a movie we've seen a million times. The way he smells. Things I can't take with me.
All of those things I'll return to, they'll be waiting for me when I come home with arms wide open- they're constant and there's no need to worry about all that.
You're going alone? people say with such disdain. Are you scared? they ask. That's a stupid question, of course I'm scared. But if I didn't do things because I was scared I may never have left the space between my sheets. Alone? Of course. If I had to wait for someone to go with me, I'd never leave the shores of Long Island. I'm going. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm tired and worn out and I need a change of scenery. I don't know what to expect. Here goes the great leap of adventure, the small step to new.
Wish me luck. I'll be updating this as I go, sort of a mass email to any of you who may actually read this. I'll miss you all!
Drink up baby, look at the stars.
As of late I've been "settling my affairs." Finishing up my reapplication to SUNY New Paltz, changing the oil in my car, cleaning through my room, and setting up my journey's finances.
I had a small moment of freedom when I took the stud out of my nose and replaced it with my old ring, something that isn't allowed at the theater I work at. Thursday is my last day of work and I'll be bleaching most of my head and dying it pink again. The bleach kit I bought is sitting on the backseat of my car, wrapped up in its paper bag. I stare at it from time to time, thinking I'll be back soon. Here comes Ashley, where has she been?
There're small creature comforts that I'll miss, the tiny little parts of everyday that we barely notice. Large cups of coffee, mmm. My bed, my shower, the smell of my house and the stacks of books filling my room. The larger things are a few friends, and Mike. Those blue eyes. Climbing into bed with him to watch a movie we've seen a million times. The way he smells. Things I can't take with me.
All of those things I'll return to, they'll be waiting for me when I come home with arms wide open- they're constant and there's no need to worry about all that.
You're going alone? people say with such disdain. Are you scared? they ask. That's a stupid question, of course I'm scared. But if I didn't do things because I was scared I may never have left the space between my sheets. Alone? Of course. If I had to wait for someone to go with me, I'd never leave the shores of Long Island. I'm going. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm tired and worn out and I need a change of scenery. I don't know what to expect. Here goes the great leap of adventure, the small step to new.
Wish me luck. I'll be updating this as I go, sort of a mass email to any of you who may actually read this. I'll miss you all!
Drink up baby, look at the stars.
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