reunited and it feels so good.

first of all. abby visited my home in paris before she visited my home in lexington. just wanted to put that out there.

so if you don't know, it is extremely rare that a homestay lets you have guests over, and if they do, you're lucky. because my homestay is very laid back... no meals prepared, i basically rent a room from carmen, i assumed it would be okay.

i asked weeks in advance. tuesday before i left i bought carmen macaroons from laduree just to show my appreciation for her agreeing to let abby stay. and on saturday evening we arrived to my lovely home. carmen greeted us, met abby, and everything went supah well.

as we prepared to go out for the night, i took my comforter off the bed and used it as a mattress for myself on the floor, putting my pillow on top with a fitted sheet as a cover. it wasn't the ritz, but it worked. i gave abby my other blanket to use on the regular bed and the additional pillow. and we headed out.

we were meeting dana's friend from GW (nicole) and nicole's friend for dinner. and later michal would join us to go out. we were a little crew.

we found a bistro near school, convenient for everyone to see the eiffel tower at night. we met nicole at the metro stop, walked to the tower, took pics, and found the dinner spot.

nicole's friend was no where to be found. 30 mins later dana gets a call. she is on some street we have never heard of. standing between the tower and the river. we direct her. 20 minutes and michal shows up. still no sign of jess. interesting. FINALLY jess gets there. we are paying the bill. we have finished our wine. and she is panting. l'oops.

we talk for a bit before heading out. we discuss our trip to london, when we stayed at michal's. i mention how NO ONE told us about the different plugs. we laugh. jess looks worried.

"no one told me about the plugs... I AM GOING TO LONDON TOMORROW." wow. talk about bad luck. we pause. and burst into laughter. whatyagonnado.

we head to the metro. as we are walking the eiffel tower begins to sparkle. abby and nicole gasp. jess sighs "that is the fourth time i have seen that tonight" jess has been using a quarter of a map, and guessing where the streets go to navigate her way around. the tower sparkles once on the hour, i believe.

we hop on the metro and figure we will bring our friends to cafe oz, its safe and an easy crowd pleaser. while waiting in line we meet some british folk who we agree to help get in. i go with jess to get her a crepe so she has something in her stomach. and eventually we get in.

the british boys separate. one is fluent in french and studying at the sorbonne, the others are visiting. one will NOT leave abbs alone. like take a hint bro. he keeps calling her julie. we are not sure how that happened. he pays her admission. buys her drinks. like. cool it bucko.

we buy drinks, dance on tables, sing loudly, buy drinks. the usual.

as i go to buy me jess and abbs another round of drinks the bouncer pushes through the crowd. all of a sudden we cannot breathe. we are hacking and coughing. no words are exchanged but people are following him out. we do the same.

we get outside. its hectic. and french. i have no idea whats going on. all i can think is this is how people died in rhode island. we are getting pushed, and attempting to clear the doorway but nicole gets shoved. she hits the girl in front of her. FML.

the girl turns around. shouts, and shoves nicole hard and on PURPOSE. nicole loses it and shoves her back, screaming that she didn't push her. cue fight #1. first in shock, then reality kicks in. we pull nicole away and push her to the side, where we find a quieter place to stand. the british sorbonne boy joins us. he explains there was a gas leak. COOL.

michal lights a ciggy. thanks michal. gas leak. you light a cigarette. good thinking.

we stand around. unsure of what to do next. abby looks up, "aren't those the girls from before?" OY. yes they are. and they are coming our way. bleh.

they start running their trashy mouths in french. "we dont speak french" nicole states. "GOOD. we speak english..." oh great. yaddda yadda. trash trash. yadda. BAM.

fists are in the air. WTF. ughh. get nicole OUT OF HERE. we great a wall and push nicole towards the street we are just going to catch the bus home. abby's flat falls off as we walk. she backtracks to grab it. FIGHT NUMBER TWO.

all of a sudden abby cannot stand up. a feisty little trashy french girl has grabbed her hair and is pulling. um NO. i grab abby's hair too (not the best move, l'oops) and shout "THAT'S HERS" (not the best fighting words). i am grabbing abby's hair back, trying to push the girl away. jess see's what is happening and begins kicking the girl. GO AWAY. finally a man separates us all and we sprint to the bus.

once on board we are loud americans. l'oops. we recall the night. cannot believe what just happened. and head home. i am bbm'ing and whatsapp'ing up a storm. nothing is coherent. i am starting convos and not finishing them. i call my mom. i tell her everything. it is just too ridic. finally we get home.

we enter the house. we get quiet. we proceed upstairs. there. on my floor. carmen has made up a real bed. with a real mattress.

what more could i ask for?

amsterdam.

one, this is becoming a trend. but i am SO sorry. to my loyal following of .5.

two. AMSTERDAM.

so years ago, on march 17th. i departed from my lovely maison around 6:45 am to head to gare du nord and hope a THALYS train to amsterdam to meet abby. yayayayaya.

i got up, did not sleep a bit, headed to gare du nord. got there over an hour early. over zealous? chilled. on a bench. in the cold open air train station. waiting.

tick tick tick tick tick. the old school departure board. tick tick tick. changing every few minutes. i repeat. over an hour.

tick tick tick tick. FINALLY. my train. i head to the gate and board the train, and so the usual shenanigans begin. cue couple not speaking english. awkard look at tickets, look at seat, look at tickets, look at other seat. i know the maneuver. puh-lease. let me guess. you two THINK you booked your tickets side by side. you are seats 35 and 36, but it turns out 36 and 37 are adjacent. i am seat 37. interesting predicament. two can play this game muchacho. i read my book. reading. reading. CAVE. i can't. i feel too bad. i get up. gesture to my seat.... he speaks!

"ah, thank you so much".... come again? you speak english. and you wouldn't ask me. as i sat. reading my english book. oy. so i move. settle in my new seat. and pass out.

tap tap. mumbles in french, gestures to seat. no. no one is sitting there buddy. ALL YOU. i go back to sleep. tap tap. conductor needs my ticket. go back to sleep. an hour or so later i wake up. it is now a reasonable hour in europe and i have some emails and bbms awaiting. i begin to respond. i feel eyes on me. i turn. the business man who had asked me for my seat has his eyes GLUED on my bberry. glued.

i look up. smile. i know. so NOT french. whatever.

he is still looking. not blinking. finally. he speaks. "your hands so strong" he types harshly on a fake blackberry in the air. i laugh. unsure of how to respond. and continue. l'oops.

as the train nears amsterdam i get an email. from abby. her blackberry doesn't work. she has found a computer in baggage claim. will i be getting off at the airport or in central station.

i have no idea. announcements are in dutch, french, and english. the english is in an accent i can't quite grasp. and i know the final stop is central station but have no idea what the airport is called. FML.

we email back and forth. i try to get some information. not sure where to start. finally we figure out i can get off in the airport. i do. emails continue.

what gate are you. where will you be coming from. she cannot leave the computer to ask because she will lose contact with me. she can not walk out of baggage claim to check because there will be no other computer. predicament. i scramble to figure out where she is. finally we conclude she will exit via arrival gate 3. we decide to meet there.

final email: under no circumstances can you leave arrival gate 3 until you find me.

like duh abbs. i wait. i linger. i wait. every time the sliding doors open i perk up. nope. not abbs. FINALLY. she exits through the doors and we reunite love actually style.

we head to the center of town. find our hotel. drop bags off and embark on the beginning of what turns out to be the most junk food i have ever consumed in two days. no complaints. we walk the whole city without knowing it. up and down, weaving in and out of canals. we try french fries, waffles, anything they're selling.

over the weekend we see anne frank's house, museums, heineken factory, i am amsterdam. we see and walk it all. as we head to the train station on the last day i am run over by a bicycle. the woman assures me it was my fault. i am in complete shock, unable to speak aside from incessant apologies. abby is stunned. we catch an afternoon train back to paris. and the real fun begins...

spring time in paris.

so it is beginning to get warmer. and sunnier. and yay.

so this week marks my halfway point. gasp. i know.

for all you thinking what i am thinking... i know. i didn't think i'd make it either.

i know that this half will FLY by comparatively. AH.

on thursday i meet abby in amsterdam. saturday she comes back to paris with me. tuesday she leaves. wah.

wednesday the p-unit arrives. i stay with them a leur hotel for the week, they leave wednesday. wah.

cue saturday. i meet jared at CDG for o'sharfin eurotrip 2011. prague-vienna-paris. YAYAYAY.

sigh, he leaves on sunday. and then. it is april 11th. APRIL 11th. its already spring. i have already enrolled in courses for SENIOR YEAR. ely has already turned 21. SO MANY THINGS HAVE HAPPENED BY APRIL 11th.

with all that ahead. lets focus on the immediate past, shall we?

friday was a lazy day. and by lazy day i mean great. i did all the stuff i needed to do. read. did laundry. made study guide. watched a movie. yay.

saturday was slightly more interesting. the plan was to go to les puces with amelia and hannah. i text amelia when i get up to verify times and locations etc. change of plans. we are gonna meet at breakfast in america. YAYAYAY. the famous american diner in paris. i meet amelia at st. paul, the stop in le marais. we head over to the line. yes the line. that has formed down the block for this poppin spot. hannah calls. she is line. where are we.

we are in line.

hmmm. then it occurs to us there are two locations. l'oops. we ask for status on her line, it sounds shorter. we jump back on the metro. meet arielle at the stop. transfer. arrive at the OTHER breakfast in america. and by the time we arrive we are the next party. talkaboutconvenient.

NOT TO MENTION. this breakfast in america is located all of 20 feet away from the hotel i will be staying in with jared. yay.

we sit, the menu is everything we have hoped for and more. american diner food. egg whites. bottomless coffee. an obama milkshake (vanillla ice cream, peanut butter, chocolate sauce). sam adams is an option for beer. a signed friends poster adorns the wall. sigh.

we stuff ourselves, duh. and head to les puces, the flea market.

the flea market is the LAST STOP on the four. it is on the city periphery for sure. we arrive. it does not feel like paris. we walk. it is overwhelming. mike meets us. we wander. in and out of booths. antiques, beads, random clothes. wander wander. its misting but whatever. wander wander.

after some time we hop the metro back. i take a quick nap. and at 7:00 head over to meet dana and her parents for dinner near school.

dinner is amaze. so tasty. so cute. dana's parents are tres nice. its so nice to be around family.

after dinner i hop the bus. run run run. get ready. meet felicity and alex at the opera stop. we are heading to footsie, a stock exchange bar. amelia and hannah had mentioned they were going so why not mix crowds. we arrive. every 240 seconds the prices of drinks change based on demand. the music is good, loud, not a lot of dancing but the place is fun. amelia and hannah arrive. mike and sam arrive. rachel and a friend from home. we are a group. we stay for a bit, we sneakily aquire a table by surrounding and moving in. duh. what are groups good for. in a bit we head out and hop the metro yet again.

we head to the marais, felicity knows a bar there. we go in. i stay for a few, then find out amelia and mike have found a falafel place closing that GAVE them falafel balls. amelia agrees to help me look. mike joins.

everyone stays, the three of us head out. we stumble upon a hotdog place. order hotdogs, drinks, frites. my hotdog comes with onion strings and mayo-ketchup on it. gross. and obviously. i eat the fries. and the hotdog, leave bun onion mayo-ketchup. we make friends with the guy working there. he tells us he is a rapper. we ask him to rap. he does.

if you are thinking we have been here forever. we have. amelia and i cannot finish our fries. i get them to go. he lets us know he is performing tomorrow. we should come. kk. amelia takes the paper.

we head back.

people are ready to go. they love us. we brought fries.

we locate the nuit bus. obviously.

mike and amelia are on the same one.

me and hannah are on the same one.

parfait.

alex and fel hop the metro home and successfully make their transfer before it closes. clutch.

and there it is. one more night in paris. one of my sixty-something left. AH.

catacombs. i see dead people. then also cafe charlot.

thursday. catacomb day. woo.

thank you wikipedia:

The Catacombs of Paris or Catacombes de Paris are a famous underground ossuary in Paris, France. Located south of the former city gate, the "Barrière d'Enfer", at today's Place Denfert-Rochereau), the ossuary holds the remains of about 6 million people^[1] and fills a renovated section of caverns and tunnels that are the remains of Paris' stone mines. Opened in the late 18th century, the underground cemetery became a tourist attraction on a small scale from the early 19th century, and has been open to the public on a regular basis from 1867.

we arrive at the catacombs, no line. we head downstairs. long long spiral staircase. dark. keep walking. walk through all these tunnels every corner i keep stopping. slash baby-stepping. slash being terrified. so amelia agrees to lead the way. i have NO idea what to expect. i assume dead bodies will just be there. around the corner.

we walk. and walk. and walk. it slopes down. we go deeper and deeper underground. the ceilings get so low. and after what feels like ages. we are there. the entrance to the bones. we walk in. and at first i am in shock. so many bodies. they are all completely taken apart. walls have been created using large bones as bricks. with skulls dispersed throughout creating patterns and crosses. behind these walls of bones other bones are literally thrown. just piled up.

the catacombs were made a result of a common problem. there used to be a tendency to build cemeteries on hills. which lead to health issues with run-off and what not. cemeteries were dug up, and all the bodies were transported to the catacombs. the process was extremely long, and many body parts were lost. not that you'd be able to tell since all the bodies have been taken apart bone by bone.

the piles of bones go on forever. winding paths lead to sign after sign of different cemeteries. we take photos. touch the bones. water drips from the ceiling creating an eerie environment and fuzzy bones in some places.

we eventually exit through an endless and steep winding spiral staircase. we find ourselves in the 14th. we walk for a bit. and hop on a metro. head first to the first arrondissement then split to go home.

i shower (dead people), nap, and eventually get up to meet sophie greg fel and ben for dinner at cafe charlot in the fourth.

sophie greg felicity and i meet at the metro, ben has arrived at cafe charlot early (well, rather, he has arrived on time and we are late) and gotten a great round booth table. we arrive by 8:30, happy our ends at 9:00. parfait.

this place is know for its burgers. we order drinks. we order food. we enjoy the atmosphere. schmooze. the cafe is tres francais in decor. we then also notice it bares striking resemblance to the cafes of soho. haha.

we ultimately had burgers in soho. no big deal. we all split. ben is heading to barca in the am. i am l'tired. greg sophie and fel head to the social club for a DJ performance. concert? show? whatever a verb a DJ is associated with.

les halles. etc.

every wednesday for my glorious history of france through architecture class we field trip it up. occasionally we have a DOUBLE in class period. in which i die. 3 hrs of lectures on slides. monotone. dark. dead.

this wednesday je suis alle aux halles. is that right? if jared read my blog. he'd prob correct me. rude. like i KNOW you are basically fluent you butt, i'm trying. (not bitter over corrections sent over family email chain. not at all.) les halles is the historical market place of paris. like back in the day... all the food came in to les halles, and all the distributors bought it wholesale in les halles and then sold it to the people of paris from their stores/bodegas/carts/whatever.

interesting tid bit. it is pronounced LAY ALLS. not laysalls. like most words starting in vowels. just a tid bit. in this CASE. the s from the les does not carry over. yes i learned that in architecture class. yes the class is full of random tid bits. yes. its hard.

anyway. per usual. amelia and i meet by school then head over to the field trip destination to find lunch then meet at the destination. we wander around. find a cafe with seating in the sun. my salad comes with some home fries atop it. as well as a protein i cannot pronounce in french and have refused to look up. i am pretty sure i don't want to know what it is. i ate it. my new philosophy is if they eat i am fine. french people live for so long.

side note (promise its related): on saturday night i stayed in bed taking a personal day. catching up with bensinger. watching movies. reading. snoozing. personal day. at night dana decided it was probably healthy for me to remove the wooden panels from my windows. let light in. and get outside for dinner and fresh air. we headed over to indiana cafe, on circle over from our lovely pereire. i wanted a burger. they had them. so parfait. i order my burger. she asks how i want it done. i say medium well because i am in france. and raw is the norm. it comes. ALIVE. the burger was breathing. it was seared on the outside. the disguise of being cooked. but alive on the inside. note my new mentality above. if they do it i can. so i ate it. that was saturday. its friday. i'm alive. but you should probably all pray for me anyway. thanks in advance.

back to les halles. after lunch we head over to the church of st eustache to learn about architecture and history. duh. the class. duh.

we arrive. wanklyn. our professor. says he saw me and amelia. shouted to us. and we didnt answer. 2 hours ago. awk. we were getting lunch. more awk. we were mo def talking about him. his class is so hard WAH.

well you win some you lose some. after the church we head over to the fountain of the innocents. yes the innocents. like the cemetery of the innocents. have some culture people. as we are chilling. discussing how the fountain has been greatly modified. how one of the sides was carved by a different sculptor. how there used to be basically no water that came from it. yadda yadda. it becomes quite evident we are in the equivalent of what some may say the "paris hood". wanklyn alludes to a time when he was harassed while lecturing here and was forced to leave. he told us if this happens again our grades will reflect what we did to protect him. hi. yeah. i'll take that f. when in danger. run.

while sitting there the catacombs comes up. i say i wanna go. amelia said she tried to go, 2.5 hour wait. i say we should go tomorrow.

count it. plans made. tomorrow is catacomb day.

whoa. désolé.

so i'm sorry, i am so delayed. oopsies.

letmecatchyouup. so.

last weekend jess alyssa and flagg visited from prague. yaya. friday i was super tour guide. saturday not so much. and i apologize. but in the past. SEE YOU IN AMSTERDAM.

friday night, after our crazy amount of walking, sightseeing, and eating. duh. we hit up cafe oz. double duh. we made it a large affair. dana and i. greg sophie fel. jess, alyssa flagg. started at sophies, moved to cafe oz. somehow i ended up talking on a banana phone on the metro. and came home with some souvenir shot glasses. sorry cafe oz. the night was fun. dana and i have mastered the night bus home from cafe oz. all in all a solid night.

on our way out i happened to see my TA, ines. chillin. turns out she is a cool 21 year old girl TA, and she likes cafe oz too. not a huge deal, because i only see ines thursdays, so i didnt sweat it. walk into my oral exam on monday morning. madame thaib. ines. cool. hey. it happens.

oral exam over. architecture exam returned. eeps. and the week is cruising RIGHT ALONG.

tuesday night is mardi gras. yayaya.

greg and sophie find a bar in the republique area that is having a "new orleans style" mardi gras fête. (shout out to the internship.) we start at sophie's once again. the website informs us its free entry with costume. sophie and fel get ish done, buying feathers, masks, and colorful shoes. we get ready at sophies, head out around nine. and arrive at favela chic.

we get in free, duh, with our amazingggg costumes. dance. get drinks. dance. socialize. meet men from boston. and london. duh. dance dance. socialize. sophie and greg leave. fel and i hang outside. go back in. dance. HUNGRY.

favela chic is a bar slash restaurant slash whoknowswhat. we head over to "kitchen area" and ask for food. kitchen is closed. interesting.

this is quite the predicament.

felicity speaks french well, i am praying she can finagle this. no. no food. we keep asking. keep looking. finally she takes pity on us. hands us a plate of... bread balls. and white sauce. interesting.

we sit. they are cheesy bread balls. size of a swedish meatball. and the sauce is. i have no idea. in some crazy and glorious moment of clarity i take a lactaid pill. don't ask. but TG.

we're sitting. schmoozing with guys around us. fel asks for a bite of their chocolate cake. i am confused as to where my mask has gone. and still confused by the cheese bread ball things.

then the waiter comes. finally. no. wait. he is not offering us food. he is charging us. 23 euros. 23 euros for our plate of swedish-meatball-cheese-bread-balls. NO. LIKE no.

fel explains the woman gave them to us. he explains she didn't. we tell him to go ask. he goes to ask. we leave.

like judge me fine. but she GAVE THEM TO US OUT OF PITY PEOPLE. she was not like. here take these he will charge you in five. or here this will be 23 euros. or fine what would you like. she HANDED US PLATE OF MYSTERIOUS BREAD BALLS. and that was that. like sorry i'm not sorry. lost in translation?

by some great miracle, it is early enough to take the metro home. and the metro stop is on the 3. i separate from fel and alex (her roomie), take the metro home. turn on love actually. go to sleep. SO GOOD.

then wednesday class happened. up at nine. home at six. surprisingly successful.

yayay MARDI GRAS.

things i forgot slash life back in paris.

first, things i forgot.

CANDY. madrid, barcelona, and london. ALL ABOUT THE CANDY. like i am not sure how it was left out of every single post. but like. candy. everywhere. always. bad news. oye.

so back in paris. chillin. we got back sunday at 6. flight got in circa 3:30. after everything. and the RER. and whatever. we got in to our apt around 6.

i showered stat. got in bed. made dinner. got back in bed. awoke for my double period french. oy.

madame thaib has gotten nicer. we walk into french class and she informs us that in 5 minutes we will partir. that is. we will leave.

ITS FIELD TRIP TIME.

we hop the 62 bus. and one bus trip later arrive in saint germain. yaya. we go to chocolate place that made chocolate for the king. we go to the eugene delacroix museum. we go to le procope cafe, one of the oldest cafes in paris. and we sit down to lunch.

me and hannah bail. est tres expensive. we go to a little cafe, cafe BB that dana and i have been to and enjoy a super tasty cheaper lunch. tres bon.

after lunch, hannah has class, i have drawing hdubbs to do and an architecture exam to study for. i head to the louvre to go sketch a sculpture for homework. after that is done i google "louvre starbucks" and find a starbucks eight minutes away. judge me. whatever. shh.

i head there. crack open my architecture notes. strategically place my oh-so-american-venti-coffee on one side of the notebook. and proceed to plug in blackberry and reconnect. read some nytimes. bbm some people. hit up whatsapp. check my email. peep my notes. sip my coffee. chill.

i head home around 8. kind of having studied. definitely having gotten my caffeine fix. make dinner. study some more. catch up on greek. off to bed.

cue tuesday. wake up. french class. back to the grind. the room has been rearranged. its disorienting. i deal. i can now sit in the back. yay. its normal french class. questions are being asked. i am confused, but more with it than most kids in the class. i am attempting to study for architecture while not being completely tuned out. we get our french tests back. turns out i can write in french despite what my blog implies. we have to sign up for our oral exams on next monday.

"hayley, you are always early, can you be the first slot?"

oy. fine. i am the first slot. bad news i have to be there at the normal 10:35, i arrive around 10:15 each day. good news i get to leave at 10:45. and then i am FREE. yeeeeeee.

after french class comes drawing. we met at musee branly today, a 15 minute walk from school. it is polynesian art (i believe, don't quote me. google it). and it is architecturally really cool. filled with tons of tiny children. not sure why. we sketched totem poles and masks. it was a break from "studying" so i enjoyed. then it was off to my test.

i am the first to arrive. gasp. wanklyn comes next (professor). we chat about vacay. i am nonchalantly studying. more students enter. questions begin to fly. terms are being tossed around. all i can think of is that i pray there is a word bank i cannot spell ANY of these terms. oy.

test comes. no word bank. 10 multiple choice based on slides. 10 multiple choice written out. four answers under each question. there may be more than one right answer, circle all that apply. wrong answers will be penalized. that is 50 points. the next 50 points. a sketch of an interior wall of notre dame.

tell me what you see. use terminology from class. 50 points. oy.

finish THAT. skype the madre. head back to my new fave sbucks. grab my american sized coffee and read/bbm/do french homework for 1.5 hrs.

here is where i begin to analyze some things that have happened thus far in france.

one. soy chai latte. that is the same. exact same in french and english. like even with an accent. the EXACT SAME. why. all i want is coffee. plain coffee. and it is SO difficult. wah.

two. headphones. my mom has always told me not to wear my headphones while i commute. she is always like: you are gonna be hit by a car, someone is going to jump you, YOU CANNOT HEAR WHAT IS AROUND YOU. like i know. okay. its a risk i take. oye. however. i have had several headphone situations. HPS if you will.

first HPS: meeting dana at the musee louvre metro stop i get out. and helplessly wandering. ipod in. staring at map, walking to all corners of the plaza. wandering aimlessly. someone attacks me. slash someone pokes me. dana. i jump. freak. scream. oops. haha. headphones. oye.

second HPS: on metro. headed downstairs on route i always take. here the headphone saved me. HAHAH MOM. man starts hootin' and hollerin' chatting me up and what not. yes. i can hear him. no. he doesn't know that. so i listen. pretending i cannot hear. and ignore him. count it.

third HPS: this is indirect, but happened to a friend. she is riding the metro in barcelona. sitting there. chillin. looking all european and what not. cue douche-y american boy. sits directly in front of her. looks at her. once again. her headphones are in BUT SHE CAN HEAR SURROUNDINGS. his friend calls to him. in english. "hey man come here." "nah bro, i'm gonna sit here and watch the show." the show. gag. like ew. slash TG for headphones.

last analysis completed while sitting outside at sbucks. my free map of the arrondissements. like yes dana bought hers at monoprix. no. they are not really free and i should be happy. yes. i got mine for free the first week i was here from BNP so i shouldn't complain. HOWEVER. they gave it to me for free because they were sending poor american me to the MIDDLE OF NO WHERE to ask the bank for something they KNEW they would not do. so like. they had to give me something in return. they were basically just getting rid of me. the jury is still out on whether or not i am mad. but i have a map. so like. i am pretttttyy surree i won. right?

regardless. i am back. 11 more weeks of paris. let's go.

mind the gap.

'ello. we arrive in london via easy jet round deux. this time i know to check my luggage. whatever. haters. catching the airport shuttle from barca was an experience. but we make it with some minutes to spare. i grab a bag of crispy m and ms in the duty free shop. i am informed if i buy another 330 gram bag, i get a free mug. tempting. i have no room for the mug however.

in case you are wondering. slash doing a double take. yes. i did say crispy m and ms. no. the pretzel m and m has not made its way across the atlantic yet and you are able to purchase these vintage m and ms on the reg. i know. gasp.

we get to london. take a train similar to metro north into the city. michal (dana's friend from GW who now studies in london full-time meets us at the tube). wooo. the tube.

we ride the tube, buy our oyster (5 pound metro card that you can sell back and get your 5 pounds back. yeah i kept it. hi. memories). and we are offish in london.

michal lives in the equivalent of the BK in london. it was compared to williamsburg by some, however it is in the air whether we will call the neighborhood hipster. or ethnic. either way. it was great. shadwell stop on the DLR tube line. right near brick lane. right near a 24-hour walk through mcdonalds. so like. its all good.

we spend day one walking ALL over london. so fun, walk along the water, the london bridge, i snap photos of who knows what. we stop in like 80,000,000 boots. cause there is no such thing as CVS or Walgreens or Boots in france. so we are in heaven.

that night, michal has a promoter friend mo. we head to cielo for free three course dinner, then downstairs to the club Luxx where a table has been purchased for mo. we enjoy. the club is ultimately a catwalk. we catch the night-bus back. hit up mcdonalds. and call it a night.

friday we head to fashion week-end at the somerset house. lauren meets us there, she is also in london. designers from fashion week are selling clothes, accessories, shoes all at a discount. it is mostly cool to walk around. no major purchases but lots of looking.

we head to oxford crossing to hit up the flagship topshop. that takes hours within itself. i end up purchasing something from what i think is topshop but is actually a boutique inside. whatever. and walk all around oxford crossing. find a burger place for lunch. michal meets us. we walk more throughout the area and head home.

en route home we purchase 3 for 12 pounds white wine and head back to make some baked ziti.

i would like to take this time to note that while london is on the pound, rather than the euro. no one informed me that they had different outlets. and were an hour behind. like what. for real. whatever. we made it work. oy.

after dinner we head out to a house party of one of michal's friends. just our luck. it is majority french people. like we dont have enough of those where we are coming from. of course they tell me i can't speak french. i know. i told YOU that. then you INSISTED i say something. oy.

the party is fun. michal's friend james walks us back. he is from liverpool and therefore has a northern accent. dana asks him if people here "know he isn't from ireland". yes, yes theyd do know. good question though. we all hit up mcdonalds again. and we are in for the night.

the next day we head to portobello road. it is slightly misty-rainy, but it was so nice the days before we don't complain. we walk all around, google a fro-yo place. head to harrods to see the food court. duh. head to another department store i forget the name of. head to the victoria and albert museum. conclude the day by ordering in indian food. duh when in london. and head to brick lane for our final night.

while we weren't looking to do anything crazy, so we mostly just observed. brick lane is a culture of its own. super fun. glad i saw it. sat outside and drank beers. laur joined us. then we headed home for toast and some always sunny. clutch.

everything seemed normal. we got a suprise visit from a blacked-out james. as we lay in bed the buzzer rings. we figure it is not for michal's apt. it rings again. then there is an extreme attack on the door. i am talking non-stop banging. michal gets up. its james.

oy. coming from a rugby something or other. most definitely wearing a stolen jersey covered in signatures. he is hopping in and out of the bed. crying "me hand". his hand is bleeding. his takes of his pants. he takes of his shirt. he puts on michal's boxers. he shows us his cuts. he is ridiculous.

finally he falls asleep on the floor. we wake up for the airport, he is passed out. michal later informs us he woke up with no idea how he got there. and he buys her breakfast. silly brits.

barca.

barca. barcelona. woo. stop two. so warm. so yay.

basically i stepped of the renfe into every-man-is-gonna-steal-my-bag terror. oops. like i had legit been warned by everyone and their mom. so like. i held onto that thing like my child. and success. i have everything. or whatever they took--i have yet to notice. both good in my opinion.

we stayed in lauren's apt while in barca. straight out of ikea. love it. night one is monday night. aka lunes. aka loco lunes. we walk around laur's neighborhood. see sagrada familia. laur recites facts like wikipedia. we grab dinner at a tapas bar (when in spain) and siesta it up before the night.

while in barcelona we acted like americans studying abroad in barcelona, aka we followed promoters to where the american kids were going. we leave lauren's apt at 1:30 am. yes. you are reading that correctly. we get home at 4 something. we sleep. we rise. we tourist it up. no time for significant rest. this is vacay.

the day starts rough. i have breakfast at mcdonalds. the grease is a must. oye. then we shop around, walk up and down main street. walk down las ramblas. go to the boqueria. head down to the water. like. its great.

side note. spain has these AMAZING food markets. both in madrid and barcelona. needless to say... i'm jealous. wah.

tuesday night is more lax. we head to dinner with laur and another girl from cornell. we go to carpe diem. a restuarant/lounge on the beach. legit feels like we are in miami when we step of metro. apparently that area is supah sketch but we walk around all of us. all these clubs have like little doors along the beach and you enter and go downstairs to the full restaurant. tres chic. it was expensive (spanish standards. oy) but so worth it. so yum.

wednesday night, dana and i embrace our american-side. laur has to "study" for a midterm. aka skype. aka sit in front of computer. we head over to the hard rock. a poppin' spot. letmetellyou. like its craycray. packed solid. 1 hour 20 min wait. we accept. head to bar. grab drink. chill. time passes. i check our buzzer. 10 to 20. time passes. dana checks our buzzer. 32 minutes. yes. thirty TWO. exactly. come again? i go right back. i ask to check. here is the woman's response:

i just told your friend... it was 32 minutes.

i know i was just double checking because before the woman said 10 to 20--

NO. i JUST told your FRIEND. 32 minutes.

like i know lady. i heard you. i am sorry that such an OBSCURE estimate made me come back to double check. MY BAD. oye.

whatever. totes worth it. food was yum. drinks were yum. all around good stuff.

as for sites. park guell was unreal. gaudi's architecture throughout the city is amazing. sagrada familia, while unfinished was spectacular. all around success and phase two was officially completey.

on to london.

YOU SOUND LIKE YOU'RE FROM LONDON.

welcome to espana. madrid.

madrid. okay, so this vacation got off to a good start. dana and i set out at a lovely 4:15 am for CDG. we called a cab, hustled over to the airport, and were on our way a lovely 1.5 hours early. we sat, chilled, sat, read, sat, dozed. then they called our flight. joy. we get in line, all ready to board. i need to check my bag.

i have been sitting here for over an hour, and now i realize i need to check one of my bags.

the woman looks at me.

"i am not sure if you'll have time". she is not sure if i'll have time. what does that mean? like time for what. cause i am getting on the plane. like. no questions. so the sprint begins.

run. run. one desk. run. second desk. run. pay at third desk. jump to front of line. she tells me to cut security, i just look at her. she takes me to front of security. i go through security round deux. this time they do not speculate in my voltage converter is a bomb. round one they did. i run, hustle, run. meet dana at line. miraculously we find two seats together. TG for dana. and we are off. phase one. madrid.

we get to madrid, hope an airport bus. arrive at atocha-renfe, take a cab to our hotel. the hotel is feet away. l'oops. bigger l'oops. we are called putas, and charged 9 euros. interesting. welcome to madrid. best part, he asks us if we understand. yes. we entiendo. no apology. we are still putas. that's just rude.

anyway. moving forward. the hotel was ama. like so nice. so great. so wow. also cheap. thanks expedia (plug. no i am not being paid by expedia or special k. yes. i think i should be as well).

view is great, sun is shining, people are speaking a language i understand.

we move out post-dropping bags. its breakfast time.

we stumble upon a hole in the wall, order some tortilla espanola (eggs and potatos. aka YUM). it was 2 euros. did i mention i love spain. my coffee cost more than 2 euros in paris. rude.

anna acts as our tour guide, our live in tour guide. our share-a-twin-bed-with-me tour guide. but an excellent tour guide. so like. whatevah.

the next few days are full of sunshine followed by rain followed by more sunshine. temps are in the 60s. we walk around. get tapas, get paella. get our culture on via the reina sophia, prado, and the palace. spend some time soaking up rays in the plaza de orient. like good time all around.

of course we locate an sbucks. chill there. meet a canadian woman. we chit chat. she is from ottowa. shout out to the padre. she studied in both madrid and paris. she is super nice. she is waiting for the bathroom. no judgment .i take english where i can get it.

the next day is slightly rainy, we museum it up, during our siesta i go back to anna's with her to grabs some belongings, here is where ish gets freaky. we walk into her homestay. NO POWER. and i see anna is nervous. so internally freak, externally remain calm. i know. so smart slash great of me. i bbm and whatsapp up the wazoo telling loved ones this may be the end. but on the exterior i am cool calm and collected. needless to say we grab ish and go, back to the hotel... aka safety. that night we (and by we i mean dana) find this great japanese place to go for dinner on saturday night. its in a business area, so it looks very diffrent from sol, but we eat a late dinner and relax and enjoy. so yum. and so much more affordable than paris. (see a trend?)

the next night anna has hdubbs. i know. homework abroad. gasp. but she's legit so we let her do her thang. dana, once again, finds us some food. we go to this cute italian place, teatriz, also in a business-y area, but also with shopping. and its in an old theater, hence name. and was ALSO so good. i approve of food in spain. please note, teatriz was discovered post-going to hard rock to find out it was closed for a private event. l'oops.

the next day we walk around, check-out, grab quick lunch at sbucks and board the renfe. shout out to 7th and 8th grade spanish with colombo. def researched the renfe and AVE trains. alto velocidad. or whatever.

next stop barca. wooooo.