I went to Belgium and visited old friends and drank a lot of beer and enjoyed the springtime sun and tried to sneak into the royal palace and was generally disappointed by Manneken and Jeanneke Pis. I mean, that's your national symbol? Really, Belgium? If I wanted to see someone peeing behind a beer-soaked building, I'd go to a frat party, AMIRIGHT? UP TOP.
Grote Markt. Fun fact: Grote means "grand" as in "big," not "great." Dutch is hard, wahhh.
Quadding in Leuven
HEH HEH HEH HEH
I repeat: ?????
They should make this one the national symbol instead because it is holding a giant gauffre, which totally detracts from how creepy this Pis statues are. IT IS A PEEING BABY. Filed under: weird comma things I am making a conscious decision to avoid in my life comma you couldn't think of anything better? You're welcome, Belgian Department of Tourism.
Also, Jackie came to Gothenburg! I don't have any pictures of her trip because pictures of us enabling each other's reemerging coffee addictions and conquering kanellbullar the size of small hubcaps would be unflattering and slightly voyeuristic. Anyways, it was fantastic see Jackay after an unbearably long separation. When we are reunited again in June, she's going to be tanner than me, which may very well be more depressing than this (no offense, Jackie!):
This is the view from my room circa mid-to-late March. My mood is so devastatingly dependent upon the weather here. This past Thursday, I woke up early to the sun peeking through my window, and I made myself a giant cup of coffee and put on a cute little outfit and walked, nay, STRUTTED to class in nary but a light fall jacket and some sunglasses (well, and mandatory clothing of course, but you get the idea), and I laughed and smiled and sat in the sun and simply radiated good vibes and felt a lot like Joseph Gordon-Levitt in 500 Days of Summer:
The next day, however, it was rainy and cold and gray and miserable and damp and dreary, and I literally sat in my bed and cried and couldn't even motivate myself to put on hot water for a cup of tea. I might be photosynthetic.
Fortunately, I escaped the cock tease that is Gothenburg's weather by heading to Antibes to a) visit Steph and b) turn 21! That's right, I can now drink anywhere my little heart desires. No more kids' table for me! I cannot emphasize enough how gorgeous Antibes was, though. Steph, you are one lucky abroad wonk:
We spent a fair amount of time on that beach, just sipping on Diet Cokes and enjoying the perfect weather. Sure, I was a verified lobster by the end of the weekend and couldn't wear jeans for a week, but it was absolutely worth it. I honestly could not have asked for a better birthday. Partying in Cannes? I feel like Paris Hilton. "That's hot." Also notable in Antibes: Billionaires' Dock,
and condom vending machines on the streets. Excuse me?
Actually, it's pretty brilliant. Brilliant, and so French, perhaps even more French than the hangover crêpes we made on Sunday morning. Although, um, "jeans" condoms? Could you be more specific? Are they blue? Denim? Hard to get on when you've just taken them out of the dryer? This aside is venturing dangerously close into double-entendre/sexual pun territory, so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead. Heh. A head*. OKAY OKAY I'm stopping now.
Things in Gothenburg have been fairly quiet. With less than two months left, I've been focusing on this summer and next semester, beginning my duties as APO Membership VP, registering for classes, coordinating my summer plans, and desperately trying to snag an internship or job of some kind. It's been hard to keep my head in the AU Abroad game, you know? Damnit, now all I can think of is High School Musical. GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA HEAD IN THE GAME.
* KA-SIKE I'm not 21, I'm actually 14.