Ketchup

So. Here's what you missed/I was too lazy to update about:

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

Um, what?

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.

Stop...Jackie Time!

I get to see this face in t-18 hours:

I made the picture extra-large for full effect.

Three Jolly Fishermen

As part of my Get Out of Dodge-enburg campaign last week, I headed south-ish to Amsterdam to visit Claire. The trip there was quite stressful, to be honest. As previously mentioned, I got into Gothenburg from Stockholm at 1:30, and then had to unpack, do laundry, and repack before leaving at 9:30 the next morning. If you've spoken to me for more than two seconds, you know how much I dislike, nay, LOATHE packing; so, I was struggling with packing, and then I woke up early to get my laundry from the dryer only to find the dryer had never turned on and was in fact broken, which was a total bummer, and this combined with a lingering cold from Stockholm and the subsequent remedy of chugging paracetamol tea (actually drinking some right now- is this stuff addictive?) left me frazzled and extremely drowsy and loopy. All of the worries and the tea-daze disappeared as soon as I saw this smiling face:

CLAIRE!!!!!

The stay in Amsterdam was amazing. The city itself is extremely picturesque, and much quainter (gezellige in Dutch, as Claire taught me) than I expected. While there are quite a few bars and neon signs that line the busier parts of the streets, most of Amsterdam was canals lined with brick townhouses and cobblestone streets. No seediness at all; after spending three days there, I still hadn't been in the Red Light District. I think the homey feel I got from the city came from the fact we stayed in an actual home. Claire's abroad program arranges a home stay for them with a Dutch family, and her host parents, Erica and Viktor, were so great. Apparently they've been lamenting the fact that Claire has only cooked for them once during the semester (which she described as "disastrous"), so we whipped up some dinner one night, and chatted about Dutch culture and Sarah Palin over some mighty fine quiche and tomato soup.

Most of the time spent in Amsterdam was in museums, trying to complete The Quest; students get a discount on museum cards, which give you free admission to 37 museums in Amsterdam, as well as museums outside the city. Claire had set a goal for herself to go to every single museum before she left, and I was more than happy to help her complete her task. Over the next few days, we hit eight museums which I think is pretty impressive. Included in that number are the canal houses, which are just old townhouses where wealthy Dutch families used to live, and everything has been preserved exactly as it was back in the day. The best part of those were the geriatric tour guides and desk workers who obviously didn't see a lot of visitors, and they were overly enthusiastic to show us around the place. The houses were quite a sight to see, though; if only I could live in a place with blue velvet wallpaper, fake cats, and French-inspired tranquility gardens:

Also great/confusing was hanging out with Claire's friends, all of whom are named Sarah. We went out to a Belgian bar the first night, and every time Claire said "Sarah," four people turned around. Yay, 1990.

By the third day, Claire had to buckle down and get to work on a 40-page research paper (yikes, whatever happened to abroad wonking?), so I hopped a train to Leiden to see Thomas for a few fabulous days. I loved biking along the snowy canals, watching Christmas movies and drinking white Russians with his friends, getting ambushed by snowballs, going to a hockey game (!!!!):

again, I didn't take this

See, people? Proof that I went to a sporting event! HYS Den Haag v. THE SMOKE EATERS. It was a bloodbath of epic proportions, 13-1. The players on the losing team lost hope and instead of trying to score goals, they just started brawls. I really felt like a bro, drinking beer out of a plastic cup while rooting on sports-related violence. Anyways, this brings me to what I wanted to say earlier. The Netherlands (and Belgium too, I think) separates their Christmas festivities; you celebrate the religious part of it on, well, Christmas, and then all of the secular going-ons occur on Sinter Klaas Day, December 6. Sinter Klaas is the Dutch Santa Claus, who comes in on a boat and fills children's shoes with candy if they're good and beats them and ships them to Spain if they're bad. Sounds pretty innocent, right? Oh, so, so not right. While Santa Claus comes armed with elves to help him with his toy delivery, Sinter Klaas has Zwart Piets, or Black Petes, for assistance. While the Dutch will tell you that Piet is zwart because he went down a chimney to deliver toys to kids and now he is covered in soot, there's no escaping the fact that everywhere you go, there are people in blackface dressed in jester's costumes walking around. It's terrifying. At the hockey game, there were Zwart Piets dancing on the zamboni (spellcheck does not recognize this as a word but I am calling bullshit). Michel, Tara (who are from the Netherlands and Belgium, respectively), and I had a discussion about this Christmas tradition last night, and they explained that, while Zwart Piet surely has some racist undertones, there's no historical context in their countries that would make blackface taboo. Fair enough. Claire showed me this video of David Sedaris' take on Zwart Piet, and it's definitely worth a watch. Begins at 0:30 mark:



So, seeing Claire was amazing, and seeing Thomas was fantastic, but seeing both of them AT THE SAME TIME was the best. We went up to Amsterdam for a bit and hit up the Dutch Resistance Museum and all hung out at a coffee shop for a while together. It was just like old times, awwww. Except, you know, in Europe instead of in Bender library or a frat house. Details, schmetails.

Headies, The Prequel

In the words of Liz Lemon, things are happening! I got a little antsy with the blog and decided to switch up the layout, let me know if you dig it. I still need to post about last week's trip to Amsterdam and Leiden, but I'm currently stuck writing a paper on the etymology of Greek and Latin scientific terms (marry me, Oxford English Dictionary), plus there are Christmas cards to write and hotels to book and couches to locate and a Swedish exam to study for and parties to be attended and flea markets to be shopped and hockey games to be watched and laundry to be done and all that jazz. Here's a teaser, though:

To answer your questions: no, I did not take this picture (thanks, Thomas!) because it was really cold outside and I'm delicate and a Temperature Princess and I didn't want to take my mittens off long enough to fish a camera out of my pocket; yes, I know it looks like I was photoshopped into it; no, that is not the Pope; yes, that Dutch person on the left is indeed in blackface because the Netherlands is terrifying and oh yeah, he's (or she, let's not be exclusive here) totally drinking a Heineken at 1 PM.

EuroTrip

November 27-29: Stockholm

So excited to see Drottningholms slott and the rest of the royal grounds, even if King Carl XVI has allegedly had massive orgies in celebration of successful elk hunts and Mafia-run sex parties. I feel like that just comes with the territory of being both a king and King.

November 30-December 6: Amsterdam

Speaking of kings, Amsterdam itself might be great, but the main attractions here are Claire and Thomas. Shenanigans will prevail.

January 6-11: Barcelona

Average temperature in January: 55 degrees Fahrenheit. This is an exponentially better choice than Norway, the original destination.

Christmas and New Year's in Gothenburg

I'm also hoping to fit in a quick trip to Berlin and Wittenberg in December for a bit of a religious pilgrimage. Luther and I go way back. I played him in our church's rendition of the history of the Reformation (still waiting for my Oscar, that "so help me God" speech was powerful stuff, especially when paired with the imitation bowl cut), and when our confirmation class went to see LUTHER: THE MOVIE (okay, it's just called Luther but it's way more effective in all caps and with a colon), Colin Keyser dumped an entire jumbo tub of popcorn on my head. 14-year-old boys are AWESOME.

Looking good, you portly iconoclast, you.

Be Back Soon

Visitors! Exams! Stabbings! Parties! I've been, and continue to be, a busy bee these past couple of weeks, but I promise I'll have lots to talk about soon. But for now, studying. Contingent valuation: least interesting topic ever?

Alive and Well

Greetings from Sweden! Sorry it's taken me so long to update; between settling in, galavanting across northern Europe, and meeting people and exploring Gothenburg, I've had very little downtime. My first week here has been great, though. Gothenburg is absolutely gorgeous. I did some superficial exploring the first two days here, but yesterday I saw the large majority of the city during an exchange student orientation activity. We were divided into teams and sent on a wild goose chase through Gothenburg, answering trivia questions and trying to barter useless items with locals, but it was good to see the western and northern parts of the city that are a bit further from the university. I also met some really cool people, and last night we went out to the bars in the more student-oriented part of town; I had no idea so many Swedes had mohawks.

                                  

(more pictures on Picasa)

On Monday, I made a trip to the Netherlands. Look who I found there!

Leiden was real swell. There were many canals, many bike rides along the Dutch countryside, many fine beers, and many many many servings of risotto and pasta from some very friendly Greeks we met at a bar.

The Greeks were very much into dancing, and very much into making Thomas join them. Anyways, I'll post pictures of my apartment once it's fully decorated. Major indecision regarding the placement of posters and pictures. I love love love having my own apartment, though. It's glorious. Like, right now I am wearing only a robe, sipping on some tea, and listening to Taylor Swift ad nauseum; that's actually a lot like dorm life, but still.

Cutting Room Floor

I totally forgot to mention that this summer I did yoga in Bryant Park,

yoga in the city: not very relaxing

watched fireworks from a rooftop party overlooking the Hudson on the Fourth of July,

by day

by night

"sarahs do it better." -sarah entwistle, woman of great wisdom and floppy hats

went to City Island in the Bronx,

and couldn't use my sidewalk, because apparently that's where people keep their recycling in Brooklyn.

Unfortunately, I'm not Moses, so would you mind, like, moving that?

Let Them Eat Cake

Caitlin, Jackie, and Marie all happened to be in New York on Saturday, so we hit the town and brought a little of the Dirty R to the big city. We strolled through a glorious 20-block street fair on the Upper East Side, where I almost purchased an owl-shaped clock necklace before I remembered Tracy Morgan's words of wisdom:

The voice of a generation. After hanging out in Bryant Park for a little, we grabbed some lunch and brainstormed ways we could keep cool, the best and most obvious choice being an ice bar. Duh. The only one we could find in the city, though, was Mehanata, a Bulgarian Ice Bar that, upon entering the premises, made you take six shots in two minutes while wearing a Russian military uniform. Among the FAQS: "'Do I get a chaser?' 'No.' 'What happens if I get sick?' 'Don't.'" You also were not allowed to take pictures. I couldn't make this up if I tried. We decided against giving Mehanta a visit; instead we had a great night in the Village involving fake identities (not fake IDs, but actual fake identities for when guys tried to talk to us. "Hi, Jane Richardson, nice to meet you."), real talk, and getting chased out of bars.

I also accomplished my Mad Men fantasy of drinking a Manhattan in Manhattan, Don Draper style. Marie and I are throwing a Mad Men premiere shindig, which we've pretty much accepted will only be attended by us, but we're dressing up and making 60s-inspired hors d'ouevres so it's going to be a blast. Almost as good as the time we watched Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and made Strawberry Fields brownies. Almost.

It's also worth a mention that we had dessert before our Greenwich Street adventre at Crumbs Bake Shop (this was a girls' night out, after all), which has quickly cemented its place as one of my favorite eateries in New York. Their cupcakes are spectacular, not to mention almost inedibly large, "almost" being the key word here. I had already been to the Greenwich Village location, sampling a very delicious vanilla coconut cupcake (vanilla cake with vanilla frosting and coconut shredded on top); the Upper East Side location was equally tasty. I decided to go all out with the cookie dough cupcake (vanilla cake, chocolate buttercream filling, and vanilla buttercream frosting with cookie pieces mixed in), which was equally delightful. Usually I'm not a huge chocolate fan, but this cupcake made a solid case for the cocoa bean.

nom nom nom

If you couldn't tell, I'm really hungry right now, because a) there is no food in the apartment since I'm leaving in four days, so why would I buy groceries, and b) I'm detoxing from this weekend. So much cupcake. So much Delirium Tremens. Must. Eat. Spinach.