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.
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