If you haven't heard of Capri, it's like the Martha's Vineyard of Italy. It's a small island off the coast of Naples where they make juice boxes and shants. Just kidding, but really it is a gorgeous place. One of the attractions is the Blue Grotto. It's an opening in the cliffs that border the island which opens up into a huge grotto. In ancient times, it was the personal swimming pool of Some Roman Emperor Whose Name Is Escaping Me. It's pitch black swimming in, and the cavernous size and deep water are pretty intimidating when you swim-turn around to look at the tiny opening you just swam through. As in pee your pants intimidating...which I did. When you look, though, your jaw drops. The five o'clock sun cuts through the water making it the purest turquoise I've ever seen. It was beautiful, but our attention was almost immediately taken hold of by the medusa i spotted in the lit up water. A medusa in Italian is a jelly fish. Earlier that day some TAD (Typical American Doucebag) warned us that someone had been stung a few days ago by the jellyfish swept into the grotto by the tide. Nothing happened to us except paralyzing fear, panic and swimming so fast it can only be described as fleeing.
We watched the World Cup games at a bar in town. We ordered an iced coffee* to drink during the first two minutes of the game and then linger over until it ended. Enter creepy Romanian whose had too much to drink and orders Sophie and I a drink without our knowledge. His name is Ben and while he claims to speak Italian, English and French, I am unconvinced he had a firm grasp on any of them, including his own. Even the bartenders are practically in tears laughing at him as he holds a conversation in French with Sophie while I'm sitting in between them. I have no idea how to speak any French. This lasts for around ten minutes when Sophie finally pinches me, hard, taking my attention awy from the game and on to saving her from this mondo dufus.
Sophie: wanna know what I got out of that conversation? He once went to a store and tried to pay for something that was 60 euro with a card. No go. So he grabs something that costs 40 euro and tries to pay for them together with a card. No go. So he goes to the atm, comes back and pays for both things. The end.
Ben is smiling and nodding.
We stayed in Anacapri, another town on the island, with Sophie's family friend, Eunice. She's in her 70s and lives in a beautiful home with a gorgeous and well kept garden. Different flowers line every walkway, with ponds and tortoises and lizards walking freely. It is wonderful except with a great garden come great big bug-monsters who find their way into your room at night and surprise you in your shower just to say hi. She has a guard dog for her tortoises, a ten year old doberman named Dobie. Where she came up with the name we'll never know. She doesn't really guard though, more she just lies in the kitchen, lying on her back waiting to be fondled (as in petted, you perverts) and farting conspicuously at awkward times, like when we're meeting Eunice for the first time.
Anyways, Eunice is a huge nature buff. Her bedroom is made up of the sitting room and the living room. It's all marble, sprawling and fabulous. Almost as fabulous as the woman herself. A large TV sits in one corner with Eunice's comfy chair and a small couch. In the other corner of the large room is her compouter. One night, Sophie and I were on the computers, looking at flights, arranging travel and writing emails. Suddenly, Eunice urgently and firmly shushes us from across the room. She is glued to the TV. I can't even see her behind the comfy chair because the back is taller than her. It startled us pretty bad and we both turned around to see what on the television is so important, so monumental as to repreimand guests for talking softly in the corner.
BBC News: So tell me about this new species of palm frond you've found in Laos borderlands?
Yep...Then began an interview with a dual title holding scholar: Worlds Most Trusted Voice on Obscure Botany and World's Oldest Virgin.
Capri was overall a really great time, though. We snuck into an outdoor hotel pool. It took a couple of tries, but we managed to pull it off. Our plan was to walk in all confident so no one would question that we were staying at the hotel. So we casually strut into the first decent looking place we see. We can see the pool from the entrance and we make our way towards the "terrace opening" in the corner across from reception. We are walking tall like imbuciles and the receptionist is just staring at us. The pool entrance we were walking towards ends up being floor to ceiling windows that look out to the pool and are so well maintained that they appear not to be there at all. So effectively Sophie and I strool into this place and beeline it for a corner of the hotel where we linger for a wihle, pretending we had purposely come back to our hotel to chat in the hotel lobby behind a giant plastic fern. We called it quits on that place. We ended up finding a hotel whose pool was a little less illusive. Only when we got in the swimming pool did the attendant ask for our room number. I would love to say that we pulled our aliby off smoothly, but it was more like us pretending to wrack our brains for our room number, spitting out number/letter combinations, while we gathered our clothes and "walked" "calmly" as far away as we could and then dressed in shame on the main street.
Also, we met a cat that day. It was black and brown. Sophie named it Black Brownie.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Bonjourno from Itary!
Okay, so a lot has happened since I las published an entry, I realize that. Namely, we are in Italy now, namely on the island of Capri. How did we come to be here? The tale is long, but the sequence of travel goes like this:
January 27th: Taxi --> ferry --> metro --> hostel
January 28th: Bus --> different bus --> ferry --> VW Van
January 29th: VW Van --> train --> different train --> bus --> ferry --> car
The trip here was quite an adventure to say the least. After our stay in Athens, we boarded a ferry that was supposed to bring us to Ancona, in northern Italy, in 16 hours time. It ended up leaving an hour late and arriving about nine hours late, making it more of a 24 hour ride. This was frustrating, and made more so by the fact that Sophie and I must have been the first decent looking humans ever to step foot on that vessel. Honestly, attention is nice, but this friendly and talkative attitude from everyone on the boat bordered on all out social harrassment. While I was on the computers I had a man next to me turn to me out of the blue.
Man: Hullo. (Shakes my hand. I give him the dead fish, of course.) Would you like to be friends on facebook?
I'm already on facebook so I can't pretend I don't have one, so I agree knowing I can just defriend him right after. This man's name was Haras, which was extremely appropriate. On three separate occasions he found us on the boat, asking us to come have a drink. Sophie had a severly intoxicated man named Daniel literally begging her for her number in really broken English. After numerous tries, he was reduced to ''please, please, please, please!''
When we finally came to a stop at Ancona, Sophie and I dismbarked and found ourselves faced with a problem: This very moment was as far as we had planned on our Eurotrip. Ancona, if you haven't been, is an industrail village with more traffic than anything else. It's slogan should be Just Passin' Through! because no vegitation or human activity suggests that anything actually lives there. It's just building after building, traffic intersection after traffic intersection, suspicious dock worker after suspicious dock worker. Sophie and I find some shade and try and decide what to do. After a few minutes, we've still got nothing. Then we spot four guys coming off the ferry, who we'd spoken to a bit on the ferry. We make the call to follow them. They are walking like they know where they're going. We sort of lurk sketchily behind them, acting like we were already headed that way. After they made their way past the crowds and toards town, Sophie finally called out to them.
Sophie: How do you know where you're going already?
We look extremely lost. It turns out that these fellas are Eurotripping with a car they bought in the UK. There were three Aussies and an American who they'd met during their travels. We must have looked so pathetically lost that we didn't even have to ask for a ride to the bus station, they just offered.
We walked in a line through town (well, they walked in a line. I had a luggage crisis that no one seemed to notice because I was last. First my shoe broke, so I had the pimp limp going for me. Then the bag I had resting on top of my rolling suitcase kept falling off the side so it would dangle off and drag on the street. This would happen every 10 or so feet, usually in the middle of a crosswalk when a 18 wheeler had just gotten a green light.) Finally we came upon a Volkswagen Van whose color they designated as ''poop brown.'' I probably would've called it burnt orange, but I wasn't about to get into the finer details of shades of shit with these guys so I kept quiet.
Sophie and I took spots on the floor while the boys tried to navigate through the hustle and bustle of Ancona traffic. This bus station had to have had a secret keeper or something, because it was nowhere to be found. As the boys had no immediate obligations, the question finally arose as to whether they should simply drive us as far as they could to a legitimate bus station. There was silence. The van chugged at the red light and one by one the boys agreed. Danny, the driver, was the last to respond. 'Fuck it,' he said, and turned to get on the highway to Firenze (Florence).
Rarely in my life have I felt so badass. We legitimately hitchhiked to Florence, and got an awesome roadtrip out of it too. We accidentally took the country roads, which snaked through a gorgeous mountain rainge. This added around 5.5 hours to the trip and did some serious damage to their clutch with all the hairpin turns, but it gave us a chance to stop in Bumfuck, Italy, and have probably the most authentic Italian meal I'll ever eat. The only iffy part was the car itself. Every time we stopped, the car would refuse to start up again. Three of the guys would have to push it so the driver could start it in gear and then the pushers would jump in as we pulled away. This unfortunately happend in Florence, beside the river during rush hour. I learned a few new Italian explitives that day.
We found out when we got to Florence that the next train wouldn't come until 6:40 the next morning, and there were no open hostels that we could find. The guys offered us a space on the beds in their van (yes, this van had two double beds) which we pretended to debate for about ten seconds and then accepted. We parked the van in a parking space along a road, pitched the top up to make room for the double bed and set up shop. Essentially, we went camping in the middle of an Italian City.
And the rest is pretty much history, we took two trains, a bus and a ferry and got into Capri at around 4:00 p.m. the next day.
Things I've Noticed:
1. The effects of The Stab are persistent. About once a day, Sophie will hallucinate me saying something and ask me about it. Also, on the ferry, we were browsing through a magazine when I see a snapshopt of Kristin Davis. I ''remember'' that Sophie and I were trying to name the actresses on Sex and the City, so I inform her triumphantly, ''Ohhhhh, it's Kristin Davis, Soph!'' I spend the next five minutes trying to remind her of this conversation until I realize that it took place three days ago at her summer camp and was therefore probably a dream.
2. Cheese toasties (grilled cheese) are suddenly extinct in Greece. These have been our staple diet while in Greece ever since the first time we came when we were in eighth grade and refused to try anything that seemed foreign. When Sophie and I come off the bus and are waiting for our 24 hour ferry, we decide to eat while we wait and to go with the cheap option, cheese toasts. It went a little like this:
a) The place has no menu, but the waitress says they have toast. We order our cheese toasts, making it very clear that we want only cheese in our toasts, and no ham.
b) Waitress deams this possible.
c) Waitress bring us ham and cheese toasts.
d) I don't mind ham. I am starving. I nom away. Sophie doesn't eat ham, and reminds the waitress that she ordered no ham.
e) The waitress tries to convince Sophie that it is turkey, not ham. Pink, ham flavored turkey. She says it is impossible to not include ham in the sandwhich, even when it hasn't been made yet.
f) Sophie politely asks that it be taken off the bill because it's not what the fuck she ordered.
g) This is also impossible because, as the waitress says, then she would have to pay for it. The waitress asks Sophie if she wants to order something else (which Sophie will have to pay for) so that she does not ''starve.''
h) I question this woman's mental capacities. We take all the trash out of our purses, put it on the table with exact change and leave. Passive aggressive revenge is sweet.
SOPHIE AND I ARE SAFE MOM AND DAD AND JANIE AND JOHN. LOVE YOU ALL.
January 27th: Taxi --> ferry --> metro --> hostel
January 28th: Bus --> different bus --> ferry --> VW Van
January 29th: VW Van --> train --> different train --> bus --> ferry --> car
The trip here was quite an adventure to say the least. After our stay in Athens, we boarded a ferry that was supposed to bring us to Ancona, in northern Italy, in 16 hours time. It ended up leaving an hour late and arriving about nine hours late, making it more of a 24 hour ride. This was frustrating, and made more so by the fact that Sophie and I must have been the first decent looking humans ever to step foot on that vessel. Honestly, attention is nice, but this friendly and talkative attitude from everyone on the boat bordered on all out social harrassment. While I was on the computers I had a man next to me turn to me out of the blue.
Man: Hullo. (Shakes my hand. I give him the dead fish, of course.) Would you like to be friends on facebook?
I'm already on facebook so I can't pretend I don't have one, so I agree knowing I can just defriend him right after. This man's name was Haras, which was extremely appropriate. On three separate occasions he found us on the boat, asking us to come have a drink. Sophie had a severly intoxicated man named Daniel literally begging her for her number in really broken English. After numerous tries, he was reduced to ''please, please, please, please!''
When we finally came to a stop at Ancona, Sophie and I dismbarked and found ourselves faced with a problem: This very moment was as far as we had planned on our Eurotrip. Ancona, if you haven't been, is an industrail village with more traffic than anything else. It's slogan should be Just Passin' Through! because no vegitation or human activity suggests that anything actually lives there. It's just building after building, traffic intersection after traffic intersection, suspicious dock worker after suspicious dock worker. Sophie and I find some shade and try and decide what to do. After a few minutes, we've still got nothing. Then we spot four guys coming off the ferry, who we'd spoken to a bit on the ferry. We make the call to follow them. They are walking like they know where they're going. We sort of lurk sketchily behind them, acting like we were already headed that way. After they made their way past the crowds and toards town, Sophie finally called out to them.
Sophie: How do you know where you're going already?
We look extremely lost. It turns out that these fellas are Eurotripping with a car they bought in the UK. There were three Aussies and an American who they'd met during their travels. We must have looked so pathetically lost that we didn't even have to ask for a ride to the bus station, they just offered.
We walked in a line through town (well, they walked in a line. I had a luggage crisis that no one seemed to notice because I was last. First my shoe broke, so I had the pimp limp going for me. Then the bag I had resting on top of my rolling suitcase kept falling off the side so it would dangle off and drag on the street. This would happen every 10 or so feet, usually in the middle of a crosswalk when a 18 wheeler had just gotten a green light.) Finally we came upon a Volkswagen Van whose color they designated as ''poop brown.'' I probably would've called it burnt orange, but I wasn't about to get into the finer details of shades of shit with these guys so I kept quiet.
Sophie and I took spots on the floor while the boys tried to navigate through the hustle and bustle of Ancona traffic. This bus station had to have had a secret keeper or something, because it was nowhere to be found. As the boys had no immediate obligations, the question finally arose as to whether they should simply drive us as far as they could to a legitimate bus station. There was silence. The van chugged at the red light and one by one the boys agreed. Danny, the driver, was the last to respond. 'Fuck it,' he said, and turned to get on the highway to Firenze (Florence).
Rarely in my life have I felt so badass. We legitimately hitchhiked to Florence, and got an awesome roadtrip out of it too. We accidentally took the country roads, which snaked through a gorgeous mountain rainge. This added around 5.5 hours to the trip and did some serious damage to their clutch with all the hairpin turns, but it gave us a chance to stop in Bumfuck, Italy, and have probably the most authentic Italian meal I'll ever eat. The only iffy part was the car itself. Every time we stopped, the car would refuse to start up again. Three of the guys would have to push it so the driver could start it in gear and then the pushers would jump in as we pulled away. This unfortunately happend in Florence, beside the river during rush hour. I learned a few new Italian explitives that day.
We found out when we got to Florence that the next train wouldn't come until 6:40 the next morning, and there were no open hostels that we could find. The guys offered us a space on the beds in their van (yes, this van had two double beds) which we pretended to debate for about ten seconds and then accepted. We parked the van in a parking space along a road, pitched the top up to make room for the double bed and set up shop. Essentially, we went camping in the middle of an Italian City.
And the rest is pretty much history, we took two trains, a bus and a ferry and got into Capri at around 4:00 p.m. the next day.
Things I've Noticed:
1. The effects of The Stab are persistent. About once a day, Sophie will hallucinate me saying something and ask me about it. Also, on the ferry, we were browsing through a magazine when I see a snapshopt of Kristin Davis. I ''remember'' that Sophie and I were trying to name the actresses on Sex and the City, so I inform her triumphantly, ''Ohhhhh, it's Kristin Davis, Soph!'' I spend the next five minutes trying to remind her of this conversation until I realize that it took place three days ago at her summer camp and was therefore probably a dream.
2. Cheese toasties (grilled cheese) are suddenly extinct in Greece. These have been our staple diet while in Greece ever since the first time we came when we were in eighth grade and refused to try anything that seemed foreign. When Sophie and I come off the bus and are waiting for our 24 hour ferry, we decide to eat while we wait and to go with the cheap option, cheese toasts. It went a little like this:
a) The place has no menu, but the waitress says they have toast. We order our cheese toasts, making it very clear that we want only cheese in our toasts, and no ham.
b) Waitress deams this possible.
c) Waitress bring us ham and cheese toasts.
d) I don't mind ham. I am starving. I nom away. Sophie doesn't eat ham, and reminds the waitress that she ordered no ham.
e) The waitress tries to convince Sophie that it is turkey, not ham. Pink, ham flavored turkey. She says it is impossible to not include ham in the sandwhich, even when it hasn't been made yet.
f) Sophie politely asks that it be taken off the bill because it's not what the fuck she ordered.
g) This is also impossible because, as the waitress says, then she would have to pay for it. The waitress asks Sophie if she wants to order something else (which Sophie will have to pay for) so that she does not ''starve.''
h) I question this woman's mental capacities. We take all the trash out of our purses, put it on the table with exact change and leave. Passive aggressive revenge is sweet.
SOPHIE AND I ARE SAFE MOM AND DAD AND JANIE AND JOHN. LOVE YOU ALL.
Bye Ios
Or last day in Ios was extremely fun. We finally got a chance to head down to the other (younger) end of the beach with the boys who worked at the watersport company around the sunbeds I tended to. Two of them got the day off because one showed up extremely intoxicated from the previous night, and the other had no voice from the night before. At the far side of the beach, there is a hostel called Far Out with a pool, basketball court, a bar and alot of sunbeds. We hung there for the day, had some day-quiris, played some basketball* and then had dinner and buckets** at a Mexican eatery up the road. It was muy bueno.
* I am good at basketball. Some might call me the next Lebron James, or Lisa Leslie.
**A bucket is an alcoholic beveraged mixed to the brim in a child's beach sand pale. The drink consists of gin, Red Bull and Coca-Cola. The serving size is one bucket per person.
Things we learned about New Zealand/Australian culture over dinner:
1. Heaps (part of speach unknown) - favorite vocab word of theirs. (Ex. This bucket is heaps good., I am heaps keen to nom this enchilada.) Comparable to wicked. Pronounced heaps.
2. The kiwi bird is, in fact, not the size of a kiwi fruit. It is at least five times larger.
3. In Australia, our friend Mel's actual occupation was ''prodder'' for the Sydney Harbor Bridge. A prodder is always paired up with a ''catcher.'' The catcher is the Robin to the prodder's Batman. They are paid to propel along the bridge removing koala bears that hang on to it. Mel prods them and his partner catches them before they plummet to a watery death. This is astonishing and if you don't think so, you are sad and boring.
On our way down to Far Out, we walked on the street in a line that stretched five people across. The whole walk down, lasting about five to ten minutes, there is a young boy walking literally at my heels. If you know me at all, you know that I have a huge issue with being chased, and being followed is just like being chased but in slow motion. It turns out that the boy is the son of a customer at the watersports hut, and the guys had been charged with entertaining him for the day. I was unaware of this however, so I started getting really freaked out. I ask myself all the logical questions: Does this child want to hurt me? Where am I most vulnerable? What do I have that could double as a weapon? I start sweating profusely (well, more profusely) and moving over every once in a while, giving him plenty of room to overtake us, but no dice. When we finally arrive at Far Out and I deduce that he's actually with us, I am angry and embarassed.
A little later on, Sophie and I go to the bar to get the Far Out special. The Far Out special is some daquiri that has blue in it. When we get back to our sunbeds, Tom and Mack are smoking a cig. This does not phase me, until I spot the eleven year old with a half smoked cigarrette in his hand.
Me: Guys! You can't give cigarettes to an twelve year old! (At this point I actually have no idea how old he is)
Them: He's the one that gave us them!
I'm sorry, but if you're young enough to be wearing Paul Frank swim shorts, you should not be holding a Marlboro Gold. This kid and I are not going to be friends. I plan on never seeing him again...which is probable.
* I am good at basketball. Some might call me the next Lebron James, or Lisa Leslie.
**A bucket is an alcoholic beveraged mixed to the brim in a child's beach sand pale. The drink consists of gin, Red Bull and Coca-Cola. The serving size is one bucket per person.
Things we learned about New Zealand/Australian culture over dinner:
1. Heaps (part of speach unknown) - favorite vocab word of theirs. (Ex. This bucket is heaps good., I am heaps keen to nom this enchilada.) Comparable to wicked. Pronounced heaps.
2. The kiwi bird is, in fact, not the size of a kiwi fruit. It is at least five times larger.
3. In Australia, our friend Mel's actual occupation was ''prodder'' for the Sydney Harbor Bridge. A prodder is always paired up with a ''catcher.'' The catcher is the Robin to the prodder's Batman. They are paid to propel along the bridge removing koala bears that hang on to it. Mel prods them and his partner catches them before they plummet to a watery death. This is astonishing and if you don't think so, you are sad and boring.
On our way down to Far Out, we walked on the street in a line that stretched five people across. The whole walk down, lasting about five to ten minutes, there is a young boy walking literally at my heels. If you know me at all, you know that I have a huge issue with being chased, and being followed is just like being chased but in slow motion. It turns out that the boy is the son of a customer at the watersports hut, and the guys had been charged with entertaining him for the day. I was unaware of this however, so I started getting really freaked out. I ask myself all the logical questions: Does this child want to hurt me? Where am I most vulnerable? What do I have that could double as a weapon? I start sweating profusely (well, more profusely) and moving over every once in a while, giving him plenty of room to overtake us, but no dice. When we finally arrive at Far Out and I deduce that he's actually with us, I am angry and embarassed.
A little later on, Sophie and I go to the bar to get the Far Out special. The Far Out special is some daquiri that has blue in it. When we get back to our sunbeds, Tom and Mack are smoking a cig. This does not phase me, until I spot the eleven year old with a half smoked cigarrette in his hand.
Me: Guys! You can't give cigarettes to an twelve year old! (At this point I actually have no idea how old he is)
Them: He's the one that gave us them!
I'm sorry, but if you're young enough to be wearing Paul Frank swim shorts, you should not be holding a Marlboro Gold. This kid and I are not going to be friends. I plan on never seeing him again...which is probable.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
It Is My Half Birthday.
Today the health people are coming to inspect the restaurant so our boss (my ex-boss) asked Sophie to work for a couple more days, because she has all the documents filled out and such (aka the HIV incident) and she agreed because she is nice. Therefore, I am not allowed to hang out with Sophie at work just in case the health people think I work there, So I'm just kind of bumming around, reading and writing this blog and staring off into the distance when I realize I don't have the attention span for either. This internet is costing me a pretty penny right now so you're welcome, people, you betta read this.
Two nights ago, we went out, and around that time - I-need-delicious-fried-food-or-I-am-just-going-to-lose-it-o'clock - Sophie and I made our way to our favorite drunk eatery: Mezza. (PSYCH, sorry dubliners, I wish) It's actually called Porky's. It is a small hole in the wall gyro place that offers way too much food with staggering variety to be any good. They specialize in gyros and fries. Their logo is on the wall opposite the restaurant, separated by an alley that opens up into the main square. The logo is a jolly pig cooking up, well, himself wearing an apron with 'Porky' written on it. Inside, amidst the pictures of the food that sit below the menu is another pig eating. This pig drawing is much more realistic, with defined eyes instead of just pupils and an actual snout instead of just two vertical ovals. The pig on the outside logo looks like what Porky from inside the restaurant would see were he were to eat psychadelic mushrooms and take a peek in the mirror. Anyway, when we arrive Sophie immediately begins calculating all the visible ingredients and prices, deciding what she wants. To call her a kid in a candy store would be a gross understatement.
Sophie: That - I want that.
Lady: Turkey?
Sophie: No, that - egg.
The woman is confused. Sophie is adamant. She wants the hard boiled egg and is poking at the glass in front of if vigorously. The woman takes issue with this. This egg is raw. She cannot communicate this through her broken English. Sohpie points again. The lady holds up the egg. Sophie rolls her eyes in exasperation and relief. Yes, she says, that. Give me that, please. At this point I start to wonder whether the egg is cooked of not, so I snatch it from the lady real quick and try and spin it on the counter, which is a way to tell if an egg is hard boiled or not judging by how it spins. Another lady, older and probably the manager, does not approve of my "wreckless" egg spinning and grabs it from the counter, yelling in Greek and glaring at me before I am able to read the test results. I actually don't even remember which spin means it's hard boiled, but I thought I did at the time. I was indignant at this woman's lack of faith in me and glare back at her. Then comes an angry and confused silence. The two ladies are stock still, staring at us. Sophie and I are both swaying a little, exchanging glances at each other and back at the ladies.
Old Lady: Raw. It's raw.
Lady: I cook?
Sophie nods. While we wait a line forms just in time to see Sophie's fried egg delivered in a french fry container and watch her devour it. Success.
After work yesterday, Sophie and I went back up to the village to watch the USA World Cup game at Fun Pub. Fun Pub is a Pub that is Fun. There were about 100 or so people there and seven screens. Both big screens were playing the England game, along with four of the small screens, leaving the 20-25 Americans to crowd around one television to watch the United States vs. Algeria. There were mostly England supporters but a good amount of Americans came out to watch the game, especially considering how unimportant soccer is to us in the States. Honestly, it was such a great time. There were collective gasps and cheers happening the whole time, coming from both the England spectators and us. All of us were so giddy when we scored, and since it happened so late in the game, we were basically on our feet hugging and chanting 'USA!' until the game ended. It was obnoxiously American, but hey, it's what we do. Plus it was a win in soccer, which is rare enough to freak out about it. Now we're top seeded in the group. These Aussies and Greeks better prepare themselves for relentless shit talking today, just saying.
Afterwards, we were trying to decide whether to stay af Fun Pub and watch the movie playing on the big screen, or go home and rest up to go out. We were informed that the movie playing was the new Karate Kid. This was an obvious choice. The copy ended up being bootleg, but it didn't stop us or the other three people who sat down for the movie from sticking it out and watching. For all of you wondering, that movie is the shit. I fell asleep for the middle of it, so I didn't get to watch Will Smith's son grow as a Kung Fu athlete or into a responsible young man, but I got to watch some kick ass martial arts performed by 12 year olds. It was righteous.
When the movie ended, we headed home to nap before going out. What ended up happening was that we went to bed at 10:30, sleeping through our midnight alarm. I am well rested.
Things I've Noticed:
1. A full grown Pitbull running towards you after a small toy looks identical and as equally terrifying as a Pitbull, teeth bared and frothy mouthed, charging to maul you to death. Either one of these scenarios produces the same reaction from a human.
Two nights ago, we went out, and around that time - I-need-delicious-fried-food-or-I-am-just-going-to-lose-it-o'clock - Sophie and I made our way to our favorite drunk eatery: Mezza. (PSYCH, sorry dubliners, I wish) It's actually called Porky's. It is a small hole in the wall gyro place that offers way too much food with staggering variety to be any good. They specialize in gyros and fries. Their logo is on the wall opposite the restaurant, separated by an alley that opens up into the main square. The logo is a jolly pig cooking up, well, himself wearing an apron with 'Porky' written on it. Inside, amidst the pictures of the food that sit below the menu is another pig eating. This pig drawing is much more realistic, with defined eyes instead of just pupils and an actual snout instead of just two vertical ovals. The pig on the outside logo looks like what Porky from inside the restaurant would see were he were to eat psychadelic mushrooms and take a peek in the mirror. Anyway, when we arrive Sophie immediately begins calculating all the visible ingredients and prices, deciding what she wants. To call her a kid in a candy store would be a gross understatement.
Sophie: That - I want that.
Lady: Turkey?
Sophie: No, that - egg.
The woman is confused. Sophie is adamant. She wants the hard boiled egg and is poking at the glass in front of if vigorously. The woman takes issue with this. This egg is raw. She cannot communicate this through her broken English. Sohpie points again. The lady holds up the egg. Sophie rolls her eyes in exasperation and relief. Yes, she says, that. Give me that, please. At this point I start to wonder whether the egg is cooked of not, so I snatch it from the lady real quick and try and spin it on the counter, which is a way to tell if an egg is hard boiled or not judging by how it spins. Another lady, older and probably the manager, does not approve of my "wreckless" egg spinning and grabs it from the counter, yelling in Greek and glaring at me before I am able to read the test results. I actually don't even remember which spin means it's hard boiled, but I thought I did at the time. I was indignant at this woman's lack of faith in me and glare back at her. Then comes an angry and confused silence. The two ladies are stock still, staring at us. Sophie and I are both swaying a little, exchanging glances at each other and back at the ladies.
Old Lady: Raw. It's raw.
Lady: I cook?
Sophie nods. While we wait a line forms just in time to see Sophie's fried egg delivered in a french fry container and watch her devour it. Success.
After work yesterday, Sophie and I went back up to the village to watch the USA World Cup game at Fun Pub. Fun Pub is a Pub that is Fun. There were about 100 or so people there and seven screens. Both big screens were playing the England game, along with four of the small screens, leaving the 20-25 Americans to crowd around one television to watch the United States vs. Algeria. There were mostly England supporters but a good amount of Americans came out to watch the game, especially considering how unimportant soccer is to us in the States. Honestly, it was such a great time. There were collective gasps and cheers happening the whole time, coming from both the England spectators and us. All of us were so giddy when we scored, and since it happened so late in the game, we were basically on our feet hugging and chanting 'USA!' until the game ended. It was obnoxiously American, but hey, it's what we do. Plus it was a win in soccer, which is rare enough to freak out about it. Now we're top seeded in the group. These Aussies and Greeks better prepare themselves for relentless shit talking today, just saying.
Afterwards, we were trying to decide whether to stay af Fun Pub and watch the movie playing on the big screen, or go home and rest up to go out. We were informed that the movie playing was the new Karate Kid. This was an obvious choice. The copy ended up being bootleg, but it didn't stop us or the other three people who sat down for the movie from sticking it out and watching. For all of you wondering, that movie is the shit. I fell asleep for the middle of it, so I didn't get to watch Will Smith's son grow as a Kung Fu athlete or into a responsible young man, but I got to watch some kick ass martial arts performed by 12 year olds. It was righteous.
When the movie ended, we headed home to nap before going out. What ended up happening was that we went to bed at 10:30, sleeping through our midnight alarm. I am well rested.
Things I've Noticed:
1. A full grown Pitbull running towards you after a small toy looks identical and as equally terrifying as a Pitbull, teeth bared and frothy mouthed, charging to maul you to death. Either one of these scenarios produces the same reaction from a human.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Hello millions of fans...
I realize it's been a long time since I've posted anything. Here is my excuse: I work at ten in the morning and I have a twenty two minute walk down what can only be described as a vast and cascading precipice to work. When I arrive, I walk the beach all day until 6 p.m. collecting money for beach chairs like a god forsaken meter maid and bringing refreshing drinks and spaghetti bolognaise to hungry beach goers. I don't really know who wants piping hot spaghetti in 100 degree heat, but to each their own. All day I sweat more calories than a one ton man giving a round of applause, and to be honest, the last thing I want to do after work it is handwrite anything. Or think at all for that matter. But today I can write because I am not working.
Why aren't I working, you ask? Well, Sophie and I have had a change of heart - a big one. We've decided to sell all our material possessions we brought with us and move to India to do charity work with the untouchables. You know, Slumdog Millionaire bullshit. Just kidding. It's a much more selfish change of heart. We've met so many people throughout our time in Ios - most of whom are visiting in the midst of a Eurotrip. And, well, we're jealous. we're starting to get the travelers itch here. So we gave our 1 weeks notice a few days ago and on Sunday we're starting a Eurtrip of our own.
I must pause and take this time to worship four people: our parents. We debated so long about how to tell them, thinking they would be disappointed with us for not sticking to our guns, but their response was beyond amazing. They are completely supportive and excited for us. This is making us much more excited and honestly we could not be more grateful to have been born to such special people. Luh ewe guyz.
We are obviously wicked excited and are open to suggestions as to where to go. Bare (sp?) in mind that neither of us packed any clothing that reaches past our mid-thighs, so places like the Swiss Alps or Everest might be a no-go.
Important Things to Note About Today:
1. Today is the day after Finnegan's second birthday.
2. Today is Catherine's half birthday.
3. It's two days away from Jesus' half birthday.
4. My birthday is one month from tomorrow. This is the most important of the four.
Last night Sophie and I went out after a couple days of much needed rest. Here are some highlights:
1. Sophie and I developed a new policy of introducing ourselves to people we don't want to know as Deborah and Sylvia. I'm Deborah. Sophie's Sylvia. Tonight I might be Gladys. I have to consult with Sylvia on this one, I don't know how she feels about consistency.
2. This new bar we went to was pumping some classic hits. Sophie and I were singing, grooving and photobombing pictures that groups of completely shithoused Scandinavians are taking when Kid Rock's, "All Summer Long," comes on the stereo. Say what you will about the song, but we eat this shit up. I take a sip of my Sex on the Beach and observe the scene. People are generally just drunkenly jumping and swaying, save Sophie and my friend Christo. They are standing in the middle of the dancefloor, but not dancing. Christo is looking extremely confused and Sophie has him by both shoulders, shaking him, saying "Are you kidding me? You don't know this song? You don't know 'Sweet Home Alabama'???" I am in disbelief. Then I am laughing. Then I am wiping Sex on the Beach from my nostrils. Then I just watch as the third chorus comes around and it dawns on Sophie. We are both laughing. Christo remains confused.
3. That is all.
Things I've Noticed:
1. The milk here is delicious. Seriously. I don't know what it is, but it is the most delicious thing ever, here. Those two sentences were pretty circular, but I'm gonna go with it. They used to sell small cartons of it at the grocery store, but it appears I bought out the entire island. Not to be deprived of this udderly (ha.) scrumptious beverage, I have gotten into the habit of buying litre bottles and drinking them on the way to work. It's like a gallon challenge. Ron Burgundy is quoted as saying, "It's so hot, milk was a bad choice." I say nay. It is the most glorious drink on God's green earth, despite the temperature being so hot that I get cleave sweat despite my complete lack of cleavage whatsoever.
2. Greece's World Cup offender, number seven, looks like Jesus Christ would had he vacationed for a few months in your run-of-the-mill concentration camp. Only he didn't die for our sins, he blew it and cost Greece their chances in the final. Damn you, Jesus.
3. When Sophie and I wake up late, we take the bus to work. Not because it gets us there faster. Actually it usually gets us there slower. It is because it means we're too hung over and ill to survive the walk down to work. Yesterday, the bus driver put the bus in park after we get on and went over to a telephone poll next to the bus stop and removed tacks from it. For about ten minutes. For no apparent reason. He picks the day of the epic hangover to dawdle when Sophie and I are five minutes late for work and counting and viciously battling to keep our insides inside us.
4. We have determined that the Serbian Chefs at our restaurants were dweebs in their youths. The more we interact with them, the more obvious it becomes. Sometimes they are lovable dweebs. Sometimes there are dweebs you want to give dangerously long swirlies to. It varies. Usually with the severity of our hangovers or exhaustion.
Sophie and I went to a bar-b-q hosted by the failing watersports company whose station is on the beach where I waitress...or used to waitress...There are about 100 people there, all aged 20-25, frolicking in the pool, swimming and basking in the pool chairs. Give someone a microphone and it would've been MTV Spring Break 2010. Sophie and I, having nulled our sexual desiribility by doing cannon balls and playing WhoCanSwimUnderTheWaterFarther and Let'sThrowABallAtSomeoneJumpingOffTheEdgeOfThePoolAndTryAndCatchIt and LetsTryAndDrownEachother, remove ourselves to take up pool chairs and calm down. Then, up behind this group of girls with their feet in the pool comes this kid, no older than three, with his orange speedo at his ankles. He is peeing with no hands. This goes unnoticed by most as Sophie and I try not to wet our already soaking bikinis when his Babooshka or whatever notices. Having been caught red handed - or no-handed I should say - he scampers away. Actually he waddles considering his suit is suit is still on the ground. I shall call him Willy.
America plays today! Down with Algeria! Wooooooooooo.
Why aren't I working, you ask? Well, Sophie and I have had a change of heart - a big one. We've decided to sell all our material possessions we brought with us and move to India to do charity work with the untouchables. You know, Slumdog Millionaire bullshit. Just kidding. It's a much more selfish change of heart. We've met so many people throughout our time in Ios - most of whom are visiting in the midst of a Eurotrip. And, well, we're jealous. we're starting to get the travelers itch here. So we gave our 1 weeks notice a few days ago and on Sunday we're starting a Eurtrip of our own.
I must pause and take this time to worship four people: our parents. We debated so long about how to tell them, thinking they would be disappointed with us for not sticking to our guns, but their response was beyond amazing. They are completely supportive and excited for us. This is making us much more excited and honestly we could not be more grateful to have been born to such special people. Luh ewe guyz.
We are obviously wicked excited and are open to suggestions as to where to go. Bare (sp?) in mind that neither of us packed any clothing that reaches past our mid-thighs, so places like the Swiss Alps or Everest might be a no-go.
Important Things to Note About Today:
1. Today is the day after Finnegan's second birthday.
2. Today is Catherine's half birthday.
3. It's two days away from Jesus' half birthday.
4. My birthday is one month from tomorrow. This is the most important of the four.
Last night Sophie and I went out after a couple days of much needed rest. Here are some highlights:
1. Sophie and I developed a new policy of introducing ourselves to people we don't want to know as Deborah and Sylvia. I'm Deborah. Sophie's Sylvia. Tonight I might be Gladys. I have to consult with Sylvia on this one, I don't know how she feels about consistency.
2. This new bar we went to was pumping some classic hits. Sophie and I were singing, grooving and photobombing pictures that groups of completely shithoused Scandinavians are taking when Kid Rock's, "All Summer Long," comes on the stereo. Say what you will about the song, but we eat this shit up. I take a sip of my Sex on the Beach and observe the scene. People are generally just drunkenly jumping and swaying, save Sophie and my friend Christo. They are standing in the middle of the dancefloor, but not dancing. Christo is looking extremely confused and Sophie has him by both shoulders, shaking him, saying "Are you kidding me? You don't know this song? You don't know 'Sweet Home Alabama'???" I am in disbelief. Then I am laughing. Then I am wiping Sex on the Beach from my nostrils. Then I just watch as the third chorus comes around and it dawns on Sophie. We are both laughing. Christo remains confused.
3. That is all.
Things I've Noticed:
1. The milk here is delicious. Seriously. I don't know what it is, but it is the most delicious thing ever, here. Those two sentences were pretty circular, but I'm gonna go with it. They used to sell small cartons of it at the grocery store, but it appears I bought out the entire island. Not to be deprived of this udderly (ha.) scrumptious beverage, I have gotten into the habit of buying litre bottles and drinking them on the way to work. It's like a gallon challenge. Ron Burgundy is quoted as saying, "It's so hot, milk was a bad choice." I say nay. It is the most glorious drink on God's green earth, despite the temperature being so hot that I get cleave sweat despite my complete lack of cleavage whatsoever.
2. Greece's World Cup offender, number seven, looks like Jesus Christ would had he vacationed for a few months in your run-of-the-mill concentration camp. Only he didn't die for our sins, he blew it and cost Greece their chances in the final. Damn you, Jesus.
3. When Sophie and I wake up late, we take the bus to work. Not because it gets us there faster. Actually it usually gets us there slower. It is because it means we're too hung over and ill to survive the walk down to work. Yesterday, the bus driver put the bus in park after we get on and went over to a telephone poll next to the bus stop and removed tacks from it. For about ten minutes. For no apparent reason. He picks the day of the epic hangover to dawdle when Sophie and I are five minutes late for work and counting and viciously battling to keep our insides inside us.
4. We have determined that the Serbian Chefs at our restaurants were dweebs in their youths. The more we interact with them, the more obvious it becomes. Sometimes they are lovable dweebs. Sometimes there are dweebs you want to give dangerously long swirlies to. It varies. Usually with the severity of our hangovers or exhaustion.
Sophie and I went to a bar-b-q hosted by the failing watersports company whose station is on the beach where I waitress...or used to waitress...There are about 100 people there, all aged 20-25, frolicking in the pool, swimming and basking in the pool chairs. Give someone a microphone and it would've been MTV Spring Break 2010. Sophie and I, having nulled our sexual desiribility by doing cannon balls and playing WhoCanSwimUnderTheWaterFarther and Let'sThrowABallAtSomeoneJumpingOffTheEdgeOfThePoolAndTryAndCatchIt and LetsTryAndDrownEachother, remove ourselves to take up pool chairs and calm down. Then, up behind this group of girls with their feet in the pool comes this kid, no older than three, with his orange speedo at his ankles. He is peeing with no hands. This goes unnoticed by most as Sophie and I try not to wet our already soaking bikinis when his Babooshka or whatever notices. Having been caught red handed - or no-handed I should say - he scampers away. Actually he waddles considering his suit is suit is still on the ground. I shall call him Willy.
America plays today! Down with Algeria! Wooooooooooo.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Good news.
Sophie and I both officially have jobs muthafuckazzz! Not only do we both have jobs, but we get to work at the same place. Nikos, the owner, noted that I would come in every day and get something to eat and offered me a job after the third or fourth day. Woo! I guess the Eeyore effect worked out for me. I'm a waitress for the restaurant down at the beach so people who need a nice refreshing cocktails while they sunbathe can get it. Although a couple of times I've brought spaghetti or lasagna down which is pretty baffling to me because the last thing I want when it's one hundred degrees is piping hot pasta dishes. But to each their own.
It's a really good job, I'm enjoying it a lot so far, except I've never seen so many topless women (who have no business being topless) in my life. Sorry, but if your chest area is malformed, keep your bikini on. Maybe even invest in a tankini. Or a moo-moo.
Our roommate Carmen moved out. She was offered staff housing where she works, and it's hard to pass up getting the hell out of where we live. She quit the job she had with our landlord for one with better hours. And since none of his employees are staying at our place anymore, Frankie's moving us to an apartment on the other side of the square. At first we were pissed because we thought it was going to be on top of the bar where he worked which is in the center of all the partying, but it turns out it's in a much quieter. The whole day before we figured out that it was actually a better location we were talking loads of shit about our landlord. Seriously we were planning on burning his place to the ground. Now, though, instead of waking up in the morning to drunken partiers coming home, I wake up to a bustling Greek neighborhood. Today I'm pretty sure I witnessed (with my ears) a domestic abuse incident. Lots of child crying and mother yelling and hand hitting skin. Not the best alarm I've ever woken up to.
Thing's I've Noticed:
1. I have a job. I have to go and tell people that if they need any drinks I can bring some down for them. However, I am simultaneously forbidden from mentioning the fact that I work at my restaurant in case any of the fat ladies with topless melons or the wrinkly old guys in neon zebra speedos are from the tax agency. This is confusing to me.
2. Sophie and I frequent a bar called Circus at night where there is acoustic music. Every night Sophie and I get drunk we attempt sing louder than the speakers, instruments and singer.
3. The singer at Circus may or may not want Sophie and I removed from his life.
Our chefs at the restaruant are Serbian so watching their worldcup game was a sad day for them, expecially since the big rush came while the game was being played so they really only got to catch glimses of it. Half the island is Austrailian at the moment, so it was a sad day for them too. But America, on the other hand, rules. It's refreshing being able to talk shit when it comes to soccer. Sophie said she saw a British man who said "The only way that (english) goalie's hands could've been any more slippery would be if he washed them in the Gulf of Mexico." Too soon? I'm worried about the animals.
It's a really good job, I'm enjoying it a lot so far, except I've never seen so many topless women (who have no business being topless) in my life. Sorry, but if your chest area is malformed, keep your bikini on. Maybe even invest in a tankini. Or a moo-moo.
Our roommate Carmen moved out. She was offered staff housing where she works, and it's hard to pass up getting the hell out of where we live. She quit the job she had with our landlord for one with better hours. And since none of his employees are staying at our place anymore, Frankie's moving us to an apartment on the other side of the square. At first we were pissed because we thought it was going to be on top of the bar where he worked which is in the center of all the partying, but it turns out it's in a much quieter. The whole day before we figured out that it was actually a better location we were talking loads of shit about our landlord. Seriously we were planning on burning his place to the ground. Now, though, instead of waking up in the morning to drunken partiers coming home, I wake up to a bustling Greek neighborhood. Today I'm pretty sure I witnessed (with my ears) a domestic abuse incident. Lots of child crying and mother yelling and hand hitting skin. Not the best alarm I've ever woken up to.
Thing's I've Noticed:
1. I have a job. I have to go and tell people that if they need any drinks I can bring some down for them. However, I am simultaneously forbidden from mentioning the fact that I work at my restaurant in case any of the fat ladies with topless melons or the wrinkly old guys in neon zebra speedos are from the tax agency. This is confusing to me.
2. Sophie and I frequent a bar called Circus at night where there is acoustic music. Every night Sophie and I get drunk we attempt sing louder than the speakers, instruments and singer.
3. The singer at Circus may or may not want Sophie and I removed from his life.
Our chefs at the restaruant are Serbian so watching their worldcup game was a sad day for them, expecially since the big rush came while the game was being played so they really only got to catch glimses of it. Half the island is Austrailian at the moment, so it was a sad day for them too. But America, on the other hand, rules. It's refreshing being able to talk shit when it comes to soccer. Sophie said she saw a British man who said "The only way that (english) goalie's hands could've been any more slippery would be if he washed them in the Gulf of Mexico." Too soon? I'm worried about the animals.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Another day, another Euro
Apartment hunting yesterday was sort of a let down. I found some nice places, but none of them are available after early July. Since it's not the high season yet, the rent is cheap, especially for those staying to work for the season. But when it picks up, they jack up the prices because there will be tourists here who will be willing to pay that much. Right now we have a fixed price for the season, and it's a little too risky to give up such a cheap place with no guarantee of a place to stay for the entire month of July. Boo.
Two nights ago, Sophie and I pregamed alone in our apartment and got a chance to talk and get to know our fourth roommate. She's from Seattle and has a real modern family. Her parents have six marriages between them, so she's got half/step siblings up the yin yang, and also a ten year old niece she calls her sister. Well it is her sister now, I think. I'm a little confused, but the story was really interesting I remember. She'll be spending the whole year in Ireland after which she wants to join the Peace Core. It was really awesome getting to know her more, because up until this point we were living with a stranger basically. All this converstaion happened from about midnight to 2:30 when we decided to hit the town finally. Sophie walks out and I follow her, closing the door and saying goodnight: "Alrighty, sweet dreams Carmen!" Her name is Erica.
Before coming to Greece, I went to great lengths (spent an afternoon) stacking my iPod with as much new music as possible. They play a lot of house music here, so I wanted to have something other than bass thumping techno with ten words per song to listen to while we pregamed at least. Since a couple nights ago was the first time we pregamed in our "permanent" apartment, and we had no new friends places to go to, we saw it as the perfect opportunity to break out Sophie's speakers and bump some American rap about drinkin' and slayin' females. I had the playlist ready. Sophie placed the speakers at optimum locations for raging and I attatched the adapter.
Me: Should we use the converter? Probably not, right?
Sophie: Nah, I think it will be fine.
Plug goes it. Horrible stench of burning tecnhology. Goodbye speakers. That's going on the list of bad decisions. The next day Sophie's iTouch got stolen.
Yesterday, Sophie and I decided to take the night off so we could save our energy. Instead we went to hookah and chat about apartments, job hunting and the stress of getting only one customer in an eight hour shift.
After about 45 minutes of this, a small Spanish looking guy with a French accent invited us to have a drink with him and his friends. Enter Genevan highschool graduates saga. One hundred kids who all went to the same highschool were celebrating their recent graduation and were dropping maddddd dollaz. I got to see my first 100 Euro bill, which is bright green, by the way. I cradled it like a baby as a joke. They didn't get it. Rich people aint got no sense of humor. They paid for our meal which we'd already eaten as well as another pizza (Sophie and I initaially resfused it, because we'd just eaten a whole one, but then took one bite and then the whole thing was gone.) We ended up hanging with them for the night and let them buy us 2 meals, x drinks and then when we all went to the village to party, Sophie and I snuck off and went to bed. The next day was their last, and they seemed to have forgotten us ditchintg them pretty blatantly, so we got the same treatment again. We like to call those two days Moochstock '10.
Things I've Noticed:
1. Genevans think having 8,000 + rap songs on their iTunes makes them amateur rap fans. We told them the word they were looking for was probably closer to savant, but they disagreed.
2. The towel Margot and Pam left us is supposed to be fast drying so as to make it more convenient to travel with. Two days after showering, it is still not dry. We live in the sewers.
3. Genevan males are extremely affectionate towards each other. I consider myself culturally experienced and well exposed to the whole man on man affection between straight guys in Europe, but these dudes were a whole 'nother ball game - literally. At one point during the pregame, two of them were actually cuddling on a chaise lounge together. Very interesting.
4. The cheapest alcohol to buy here is called Ivanoff, and it's all we drink. (See mom, I am budgeting!) Anyway, they call it the stab because it gives you such wierd dreams. I don't know why that's a reason to call it the stab, but the Australians call it that so I just act like it makes sense. But if you drink it you will inevitably have the most realistic, fucked up dreams you will ever have. I wouldn't believe it if the morning before we found out, Sophie and I spent the morning getting ready talking about the trippy dreams we'd had. I wouldn't call them nightmares, but they're definitely so realistic that if something is off about your dreams, which there always is, it's a lot more jarring. Last night I had a dream that I gave the Romeo & Juliet potion to this baby polar bear which was the size of a puppy. It barfed like twenty five times and then died and when it came back to life, I was the first thing it saw so I became it's mother. It was awesome. Two days ago I had a dream that there was a boat crash and my shoulder got cut off so my arm was only hanging on by my armpit skin. You win some, you lose some.
Big shout out to my brotha and his lady for tying the knot! Slainte, AA and Linda.
Two nights ago, Sophie and I pregamed alone in our apartment and got a chance to talk and get to know our fourth roommate. She's from Seattle and has a real modern family. Her parents have six marriages between them, so she's got half/step siblings up the yin yang, and also a ten year old niece she calls her sister. Well it is her sister now, I think. I'm a little confused, but the story was really interesting I remember. She'll be spending the whole year in Ireland after which she wants to join the Peace Core. It was really awesome getting to know her more, because up until this point we were living with a stranger basically. All this converstaion happened from about midnight to 2:30 when we decided to hit the town finally. Sophie walks out and I follow her, closing the door and saying goodnight: "Alrighty, sweet dreams Carmen!" Her name is Erica.
Before coming to Greece, I went to great lengths (spent an afternoon) stacking my iPod with as much new music as possible. They play a lot of house music here, so I wanted to have something other than bass thumping techno with ten words per song to listen to while we pregamed at least. Since a couple nights ago was the first time we pregamed in our "permanent" apartment, and we had no new friends places to go to, we saw it as the perfect opportunity to break out Sophie's speakers and bump some American rap about drinkin' and slayin' females. I had the playlist ready. Sophie placed the speakers at optimum locations for raging and I attatched the adapter.
Me: Should we use the converter? Probably not, right?
Sophie: Nah, I think it will be fine.
Plug goes it. Horrible stench of burning tecnhology. Goodbye speakers. That's going on the list of bad decisions. The next day Sophie's iTouch got stolen.
Yesterday, Sophie and I decided to take the night off so we could save our energy. Instead we went to hookah and chat about apartments, job hunting and the stress of getting only one customer in an eight hour shift.
After about 45 minutes of this, a small Spanish looking guy with a French accent invited us to have a drink with him and his friends. Enter Genevan highschool graduates saga. One hundred kids who all went to the same highschool were celebrating their recent graduation and were dropping maddddd dollaz. I got to see my first 100 Euro bill, which is bright green, by the way. I cradled it like a baby as a joke. They didn't get it. Rich people aint got no sense of humor. They paid for our meal which we'd already eaten as well as another pizza (Sophie and I initaially resfused it, because we'd just eaten a whole one, but then took one bite and then the whole thing was gone.) We ended up hanging with them for the night and let them buy us 2 meals, x drinks and then when we all went to the village to party, Sophie and I snuck off and went to bed. The next day was their last, and they seemed to have forgotten us ditchintg them pretty blatantly, so we got the same treatment again. We like to call those two days Moochstock '10.
Things I've Noticed:
1. Genevans think having 8,000 + rap songs on their iTunes makes them amateur rap fans. We told them the word they were looking for was probably closer to savant, but they disagreed.
2. The towel Margot and Pam left us is supposed to be fast drying so as to make it more convenient to travel with. Two days after showering, it is still not dry. We live in the sewers.
3. Genevan males are extremely affectionate towards each other. I consider myself culturally experienced and well exposed to the whole man on man affection between straight guys in Europe, but these dudes were a whole 'nother ball game - literally. At one point during the pregame, two of them were actually cuddling on a chaise lounge together. Very interesting.
4. The cheapest alcohol to buy here is called Ivanoff, and it's all we drink. (See mom, I am budgeting!) Anyway, they call it the stab because it gives you such wierd dreams. I don't know why that's a reason to call it the stab, but the Australians call it that so I just act like it makes sense. But if you drink it you will inevitably have the most realistic, fucked up dreams you will ever have. I wouldn't believe it if the morning before we found out, Sophie and I spent the morning getting ready talking about the trippy dreams we'd had. I wouldn't call them nightmares, but they're definitely so realistic that if something is off about your dreams, which there always is, it's a lot more jarring. Last night I had a dream that I gave the Romeo & Juliet potion to this baby polar bear which was the size of a puppy. It barfed like twenty five times and then died and when it came back to life, I was the first thing it saw so I became it's mother. It was awesome. Two days ago I had a dream that there was a boat crash and my shoulder got cut off so my arm was only hanging on by my armpit skin. You win some, you lose some.
Big shout out to my brotha and his lady for tying the knot! Slainte, AA and Linda.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Getting Somewhere
Sophie and I are officially looking for a new apartment. We met Irish girls who are also staying for the season who stayed in the room next to us for a couple of nights. They found a place for one more euro a night with a kitchen and access to a hotel pool. Ours overlooks a pool that we were explicitly forbidden from using the minute we moved in. So as much as I love living in the slave's quarters, we're gonna keep looking.
I did a big job search yesterday and went to about ten different places asking for work. I got the typical come back next week thing, which is pretty depressing, but later I found out that the "tax man" will be leaving in five days which made me feel a lot more confident about getting a job. The tax man is reviewing the legitimate employment of all the restaurants to ensure that the wages earned here are kept within Greece's economy...I think... So once Big Brother gets off my back, I can finally get some good, honest, under the table illegal employment.
Breaking news, my book is FINALLY getting interesting. I broke the 100 page mark which i haven't done in a long, long time. I flipped back through the book to congratulate my progress so far, and every other page has been dog eared at least once. That means that up until now, I've been averaging about two pages at a time. But I'm past the set up of the plot, so it's getting more and more interesting by the second.
Sophie had her first day of work yesterday from 10-6, and after my fruitless job search I went down to visit her. The past couple of days, she'd had to get shots and tests to make sure she was healthy and to make sure she's not serving tuberculosis salads. So I get to the bar where she and the staff are shooting the shit because no customers are there. I walk up and Sophie looks at me completely straight faced.
Sophie: One of those tests was for AIDS.
I nearly died.
Sophie: I'm negative.
So that's something to celebrate, people, if you're looking for a reason. Sophie is AIDS free. Boo ya.
When Sophie got out of work we finally got to hit the beach. I was super excited because I decided to buy a volley ball that day so we could frolick in the water and get exercise. We lasted about ten minutes. We were two of the five people on the beach so we threw in the towel and caught the the bus home. This doesn't actually apply, as Sophie and I don't own towels to throw in, but it's just a saying so imma use it anyway. Also, the bus driver tried to leave without us when we were only three yards away. There was legitimately no other possible destination we could have been headed for BUT the bus, but he started to drive away anyway. So I went all Tiananmen Square on his ass, and made him stop for us.
It's opening ceremonies for the World Cup tonight, and the first match is tomorrow. I'm wicked pumped because since we're in Europe, we get to watch the games on time and not worry about Eastern/Central time blah, blah, blah. And we're also in a place which gives half a shit about soccer, so that's a plus.
Thing's I've Noticed:
1. If you call it Soccer, you will be mercilessly tooled on.
2. In Ios, if you don't have a tattoo, you are unique. There are stands by the beach set up like your average Rogan Slush Stand with tatted up guys just waitin' to ink ya.
3. Aussie slang is way more creative than ours. Cocksucker < Cocksmoker.
4. Malaka = Asshole in Greek. They use it a lot. Like a lot, a lot.
Right now I'm waiting for Carmen to get up so that she'll come apartment hunting with me because she's super friendly and I'm about as outgoing as a corpse compared to her. I did take an Adderall, though, so I might just hit the road solo. Our roommate Carmen may be the peppiest human on planet Earth. She's wicked outgoing to everyone she meets, even inanimate objects. She may not be the brightest bulb, but she is the friendliest bulb. Her theme song is ''Tik Tok" by Ke$ha. I say that not because she claims it, but because yesterday morning her headphones were up all the way and over the course of an hour and a half, Tik Tok was played five times. No exaggeration. I'm gonna try and sneak a peak at her iPod. I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't the only song on there. Seriously.
I did a big job search yesterday and went to about ten different places asking for work. I got the typical come back next week thing, which is pretty depressing, but later I found out that the "tax man" will be leaving in five days which made me feel a lot more confident about getting a job. The tax man is reviewing the legitimate employment of all the restaurants to ensure that the wages earned here are kept within Greece's economy...I think... So once Big Brother gets off my back, I can finally get some good, honest, under the table illegal employment.
Breaking news, my book is FINALLY getting interesting. I broke the 100 page mark which i haven't done in a long, long time. I flipped back through the book to congratulate my progress so far, and every other page has been dog eared at least once. That means that up until now, I've been averaging about two pages at a time. But I'm past the set up of the plot, so it's getting more and more interesting by the second.
Sophie had her first day of work yesterday from 10-6, and after my fruitless job search I went down to visit her. The past couple of days, she'd had to get shots and tests to make sure she was healthy and to make sure she's not serving tuberculosis salads. So I get to the bar where she and the staff are shooting the shit because no customers are there. I walk up and Sophie looks at me completely straight faced.
Sophie: One of those tests was for AIDS.
I nearly died.
Sophie: I'm negative.
So that's something to celebrate, people, if you're looking for a reason. Sophie is AIDS free. Boo ya.
When Sophie got out of work we finally got to hit the beach. I was super excited because I decided to buy a volley ball that day so we could frolick in the water and get exercise. We lasted about ten minutes. We were two of the five people on the beach so we threw in the towel and caught the the bus home. This doesn't actually apply, as Sophie and I don't own towels to throw in, but it's just a saying so imma use it anyway. Also, the bus driver tried to leave without us when we were only three yards away. There was legitimately no other possible destination we could have been headed for BUT the bus, but he started to drive away anyway. So I went all Tiananmen Square on his ass, and made him stop for us.
It's opening ceremonies for the World Cup tonight, and the first match is tomorrow. I'm wicked pumped because since we're in Europe, we get to watch the games on time and not worry about Eastern/Central time blah, blah, blah. And we're also in a place which gives half a shit about soccer, so that's a plus.
Thing's I've Noticed:
1. If you call it Soccer, you will be mercilessly tooled on.
2. In Ios, if you don't have a tattoo, you are unique. There are stands by the beach set up like your average Rogan Slush Stand with tatted up guys just waitin' to ink ya.
3. Aussie slang is way more creative than ours. Cocksucker < Cocksmoker.
4. Malaka = Asshole in Greek. They use it a lot. Like a lot, a lot.
Right now I'm waiting for Carmen to get up so that she'll come apartment hunting with me because she's super friendly and I'm about as outgoing as a corpse compared to her. I did take an Adderall, though, so I might just hit the road solo. Our roommate Carmen may be the peppiest human on planet Earth. She's wicked outgoing to everyone she meets, even inanimate objects. She may not be the brightest bulb, but she is the friendliest bulb. Her theme song is ''Tik Tok" by Ke$ha. I say that not because she claims it, but because yesterday morning her headphones were up all the way and over the course of an hour and a half, Tik Tok was played five times. No exaggeration. I'm gonna try and sneak a peak at her iPod. I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't the only song on there. Seriously.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Pam and Ma STILL do Ios!
Hey everybody! Pam and Ma are here still woo! Our second night we were all exhuasted and when one of us suggested we stay in, we all jumped at the chace. We took Pam's laptop to the resort we'd stayed at which has free wireless. Our plan was to download a movie to watch that night from iTunes, but when we got to the hotel, Mike told us that he'd give us a bunch of movies off his harddrive. We were thrilled and after a half an hour of transferring files, etc., we took the laptop back to the apartment to settle in for our movie night. Only when we put the crib together, changed out of our suites and into pajamas and double clicked to watch that new romantic comedy, The Hurt Locker, did we realize our horrible mistake. We had decided against renting a movie from iTunes as well because we had the ones from Mike, which was another thing we put on our bad decisions list. Windows Media Player opened and the visualiser started, set to the audio of The Hurt Locker. The other file that came with it was a frame by frame picture of the movie. Like photosohop. The other three movies were the same. So that sucked.
Last night Sophie and I sadly put Pam and Ma on the bus down to the port so they could leave Ios and begin their journies back to Massachusetts. The village is midway between the beach and the port, and Sophie and I hugged goodbye as the bus pulled up packed with people coming up from the beach to go to the bars. We had brough our trash down to look for public barrels to throw them in, and the four bags sat beside us as we watched our friends board the bus. People getting off kept tripping over our waste and making comments about it, so we edged away from our spot on the stone wall and refused to claim the 10 lbs. of trash until the crowd completely dispersed. Embarassing.
At 1:00 a.m. our two friends rolled back in. Their ferry had been at 7:30, not midnight. Better luck next time, ladies.
Things I've noticed:
1. Our maid defines cleaning the bathroom as spraying the whole roomdown with the hose from our showerhead, and closing the door to let the dungeon ventilate our of a 1' x 1' window.
2. If you order fries at Pleasure, the local gyro place, the bowls they come in make for perfect cereal bowls. So far I've made off with three. I wonder what the employees think when they come to clear the table and there's nothing to clear...
Some Homeless Tendencies We've Developed:
1. Using rinsed out deodorant cups as shot glasses.
2. Using french fry holders as cereal bowls and chaser cups.
4. Taking our morning showers in the mediterranean.
5. Rinsing clothes in our sink. Getting ready makes me feel like Charlize Theron in the beginning of Monster. Only I'm not lesbian serial murderer. Not yet...
6. Freebasing cocaine and battling addictions to Methamphetamines.
The last one is a joke. Or is it? It is.
Last night Sophie and I sadly put Pam and Ma on the bus down to the port so they could leave Ios and begin their journies back to Massachusetts. The village is midway between the beach and the port, and Sophie and I hugged goodbye as the bus pulled up packed with people coming up from the beach to go to the bars. We had brough our trash down to look for public barrels to throw them in, and the four bags sat beside us as we watched our friends board the bus. People getting off kept tripping over our waste and making comments about it, so we edged away from our spot on the stone wall and refused to claim the 10 lbs. of trash until the crowd completely dispersed. Embarassing.
At 1:00 a.m. our two friends rolled back in. Their ferry had been at 7:30, not midnight. Better luck next time, ladies.
Things I've noticed:
1. Our maid defines cleaning the bathroom as spraying the whole roomdown with the hose from our showerhead, and closing the door to let the dungeon ventilate our of a 1' x 1' window.
2. If you order fries at Pleasure, the local gyro place, the bowls they come in make for perfect cereal bowls. So far I've made off with three. I wonder what the employees think when they come to clear the table and there's nothing to clear...
Some Homeless Tendencies We've Developed:
1. Using rinsed out deodorant cups as shot glasses.
2. Using french fry holders as cereal bowls and chaser cups.
4. Taking our morning showers in the mediterranean.
5. Rinsing clothes in our sink. Getting ready makes me feel like Charlize Theron in the beginning of Monster. Only I'm not lesbian serial murderer. Not yet...
6. Freebasing cocaine and battling addictions to Methamphetamines.
The last one is a joke. Or is it? It is.
PAM AND MA DO IOS
Pam and Margot are here! For those of you unfortunate enough not to know who these peeps are, they are our friends from high school, and they arrived the same day we moved into our apartment. This wasn't an issue, except that our landlord had to approach Carmen (his employee who got us the apartment in the first place) and clarify that there were only four, and not six of us living in the apartment. It's kind of funny because five out of the six people staying in the room are illegal immigrants cramped into a small room looking for work in a foreign country. Sound familiar?
I don't blame our landlord for asking, considering this aparmtment is in NO way capable of housing six people in its one room. There is no stove and no microwave (despite the fact that it was advertised to have both.) Behind the bathroom door are two steps that lead down to the shithole we like to refer to as the dungeon. It has one tiny window placed up high like it's a prison cell except that it doesn't close. The bathroom's position is underneath a set of outdoor stairs, so that there is a nook where Harry Potter could have been raised, or brooms could be kept. Instead it's where our toilet, shower and sink are. There's only one closet and three lights in the room. Only one of these lights works. There's one window in the main room above the only door which I swear to god is some secret portal that only giant disgusting moths can find. I'm not sure how the tarantulas get in though...We may be getting a hot plate, but we have to bring outselves to drop 67 Euro all at once, so that's gonna be tough. Also, our fridge is the size of a mini fridge you are typically given freshman year of college...And our game plan is to buy groceries...yeah...
Pam and Margot are here for five days, so we pushed our beds together and it actually makes for a pretty cuddly crib (Wurd to my Ireland peeps) but it's kind of a hassle having to dissasemble it every morning so our landlord Frankie doesn't catch us riding dirty.
Advantages to Pam and Ma being here:
1. Pam brought her computer. Pam has two seasons of The Office.
2. Pam brought her computer. Pam has two seasons of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
3. Pam brought her computer. Pam has Solitaire (which my Dad somehow removed from my computer when he wiped it for viruses. Love you, Dad.)
4. Pam brought her computer. Pam has Snood.
5. Pam and Ma are at the end of their travels, so we get all the stuff they're trying to jettison to make their bags lighter that we were too cheap to buy. These include one towel, 2,132,456,456 tampons and Ma's dank European blowdryer.
6. We get to remenisce CONSTANTLY about highschool and we have been. We've already pretty accurately equated B**S****** (name changed to protect identity) to Stephen Glandsberg and talked about how we can't wait for our five year reunion. Huge nostalgia trip, it's been wicked sweet.
7. Now that we're two more people, all our meals and alcohol are divided by four, which is much lighter on the wallet. Although we order twice as much food as when there's two of us...But i'm gonna just choose not to figure that equation. Since they've been here, the weather has been sort of iffy. This means 80 with a chilly (pleasant) wind (breeze) and not sunny (1-3 clouds in the sky.) Yesterday we were reading on the beach, and the weather got a little discouraging which means that I was covered in goosebumps which is just not cute. At this point we decided to go (Sophie had read thirty pages, I'd gotten through 9) and have a nice little lunch at this beachside restaurant. We ate bruschetta, hummus and a small pizza to split and then splurged on a hookah for the table. We ordered peach, but accidentally got brought "grandma's basement" flavor. It wasn't so bad though, and since we were so exhausted we got pretty giggly off of it. It was so relaxing getting to sit in hammocks with blankets given to us by the restaurant and smokin some hookah with my ladies. Pam claims it was "the chillest i've eva been."
Our first night out, we were pregaming in our room when a new friend (the term for stranger in Ios) named Eddie came in and we chatted. Then some stuff happened.
Some stuff that happened:
1. Eddie asks us where we're from. The next ten minutes (no exagerration) is spent all trying to do the best Boston accent. When he tries his words are absolutely incoherent. At THIS point, we should have registered that he was relatively intoxicated.
2. Eddie spends the next ten minutes talking about what can only be described as nothing. Then the conversation slows.
3. Eddie asks where we are from. AT THIS POINT we start to realize he is extremely intoxicated.
4. Eddie says something that is probably in Elvish or some shit. No nationally recognized language anyways, and looks expectantly for a response from anyone. None come.
5. Eddie asks Sophie for a cuddle, and gets up to sit behind her. Sophie just looks around.
6. Commence 15 minute backrub for Sophie from Eddie. He asks for one in return. Sophie refuses. It was a gift, Eddie.
7. We decide to leave and Eddie think she's leading us to the club he works at called Pegasus. In reality he just happens to be in front because he's walking the fastest.
8. We arrive at Pegasus. Eddie's hands are up in the air like a triumphant bastart and he hops up the steps to the club. When he turns around, we are all gone.
We ended up seeing him two days later and calling him out. He remembered nothing.
I've been informed that Michael O'Neill now has the link to this blog. I love you Dad. I'm being safer than it seems here in this blog. Much more safe. I promise.
I don't blame our landlord for asking, considering this aparmtment is in NO way capable of housing six people in its one room. There is no stove and no microwave (despite the fact that it was advertised to have both.) Behind the bathroom door are two steps that lead down to the shithole we like to refer to as the dungeon. It has one tiny window placed up high like it's a prison cell except that it doesn't close. The bathroom's position is underneath a set of outdoor stairs, so that there is a nook where Harry Potter could have been raised, or brooms could be kept. Instead it's where our toilet, shower and sink are. There's only one closet and three lights in the room. Only one of these lights works. There's one window in the main room above the only door which I swear to god is some secret portal that only giant disgusting moths can find. I'm not sure how the tarantulas get in though...We may be getting a hot plate, but we have to bring outselves to drop 67 Euro all at once, so that's gonna be tough. Also, our fridge is the size of a mini fridge you are typically given freshman year of college...And our game plan is to buy groceries...yeah...
Pam and Margot are here for five days, so we pushed our beds together and it actually makes for a pretty cuddly crib (Wurd to my Ireland peeps) but it's kind of a hassle having to dissasemble it every morning so our landlord Frankie doesn't catch us riding dirty.
Advantages to Pam and Ma being here:
1. Pam brought her computer. Pam has two seasons of The Office.
2. Pam brought her computer. Pam has two seasons of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
3. Pam brought her computer. Pam has Solitaire (which my Dad somehow removed from my computer when he wiped it for viruses. Love you, Dad.)
4. Pam brought her computer. Pam has Snood.
5. Pam and Ma are at the end of their travels, so we get all the stuff they're trying to jettison to make their bags lighter that we were too cheap to buy. These include one towel, 2,132,456,456 tampons and Ma's dank European blowdryer.
6. We get to remenisce CONSTANTLY about highschool and we have been. We've already pretty accurately equated B**S****** (name changed to protect identity) to Stephen Glandsberg and talked about how we can't wait for our five year reunion. Huge nostalgia trip, it's been wicked sweet.
7. Now that we're two more people, all our meals and alcohol are divided by four, which is much lighter on the wallet. Although we order twice as much food as when there's two of us...But i'm gonna just choose not to figure that equation. Since they've been here, the weather has been sort of iffy. This means 80 with a chilly (pleasant) wind (breeze) and not sunny (1-3 clouds in the sky.) Yesterday we were reading on the beach, and the weather got a little discouraging which means that I was covered in goosebumps which is just not cute. At this point we decided to go (Sophie had read thirty pages, I'd gotten through 9) and have a nice little lunch at this beachside restaurant. We ate bruschetta, hummus and a small pizza to split and then splurged on a hookah for the table. We ordered peach, but accidentally got brought "grandma's basement" flavor. It wasn't so bad though, and since we were so exhausted we got pretty giggly off of it. It was so relaxing getting to sit in hammocks with blankets given to us by the restaurant and smokin some hookah with my ladies. Pam claims it was "the chillest i've eva been."
Our first night out, we were pregaming in our room when a new friend (the term for stranger in Ios) named Eddie came in and we chatted. Then some stuff happened.
Some stuff that happened:
1. Eddie asks us where we're from. The next ten minutes (no exagerration) is spent all trying to do the best Boston accent. When he tries his words are absolutely incoherent. At THIS point, we should have registered that he was relatively intoxicated.
2. Eddie spends the next ten minutes talking about what can only be described as nothing. Then the conversation slows.
3. Eddie asks where we are from. AT THIS POINT we start to realize he is extremely intoxicated.
4. Eddie says something that is probably in Elvish or some shit. No nationally recognized language anyways, and looks expectantly for a response from anyone. None come.
5. Eddie asks Sophie for a cuddle, and gets up to sit behind her. Sophie just looks around.
6. Commence 15 minute backrub for Sophie from Eddie. He asks for one in return. Sophie refuses. It was a gift, Eddie.
7. We decide to leave and Eddie think she's leading us to the club he works at called Pegasus. In reality he just happens to be in front because he's walking the fastest.
8. We arrive at Pegasus. Eddie's hands are up in the air like a triumphant bastart and he hops up the steps to the club. When he turns around, we are all gone.
We ended up seeing him two days later and calling him out. He remembered nothing.
I've been informed that Michael O'Neill now has the link to this blog. I love you Dad. I'm being safer than it seems here in this blog. Much more safe. I promise.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
It's boring, but it's a part of my life...
I am officially getting sick of writing this blog. This doesn't mean I'm going to stop, but I'm going to complain about it. It's mostly because I bought a journal before I came here. It has the Asian wave on it. Not a bunch of Asians doing the wave, but "The Great Wave," by Hokusai. It's not really me, but it was in the bargain bin at Barnes & Noble so whatevaaaz. I got it so I'd be encouraged to write, since it's what I want to do with my life, and I love it except that since I have this journal I have to write everything by hand first and it sucks to actually write. It's like writing an in class essay every day. Also, when we live in our apartment we won't have internet so easily available, but don't worry I am going to do the best I can to keep this thing going!
Our friends from Florida left. They hung by the pool with us after they checked out, as their ferry didn't leave until after dinner time. Sophie and I went inside for a bit to check Facebook and whatnot and when we came back out our friends who were still there asked us if we'd gotten said goodbye to the Florida guys. Oops. See you never.
Here there are little gypsies that go around selling 10 cent glow sticks for a Euro to all the party people. Sophie is pretty much best friends with this one girl selling them. I try to get them to like me, but kids have never really been my thing. Especially these ones who I try and make adult conversation with even though they don't exactly (at all) speak English. I won't give up! There is one who I've made pretty good head way with. She smiles a lot, but she keeps motioning to my jewelry. The jewelry that I wear every day that was my mom's and/or great aunt's. I made the mistake of trading these brand new, 20 Euro earrings, for a glow stick. Which means I paid 19 Euro for a 10 cent bracelet that breaks after one night. I won't be doing that again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me out of precious jewelry, I'm a fucking idiot.
Tomorrow, we move into our apartment and i am DETERMINED to keep it clean. Right now Sophie and I have unpacked...unloaded all our clothes and things in our hotel room. The floor literally has a rug made out of our clothes. New apartment = New leaf. It's the Alaskan's last night tonight, which is so depressing considering they are all so, so hilarious. We'll be celebrating tonight. This will be tough for Sophie, who was struggling against pure exhaustion this morning. I woke up and was absolutely parched, so I asked for the big bottle of water we'd bought in anticipation of our morning desert-mouths. Looking for it, Sophie says "Oh yeah, I chuuugged that last night," just as she finds it. Folks, there was half an inch missing, tops. These are the same big water bottles that we drank in Ireland. They're 1.5 Liters - no I can't convert that - and since everything in Europe is portioned smaller, it's the equivalent of a gallon of water in the states. So we'd always buy them, and bring them to class and get the same looks that an American would get if they were casually sippin' on a gallon jug in global.
Back to Greece. Last night was for some reason the most giddy night every. I laughed until my abs ached, minus the twenty minutes where we compared horror stories. Not like ghost stories, but like mass/fucked up murder/suicide stories about people we knew. One of our Alaskan friends was in the shower for this serious talk, so the soundtrack to the whole conversation was him singing "Empire State of Mind."
The night progressed and we got to the bars around 2:30 (Asian dentist appointment) and I have a nice little chat with a potential employer while Sophie climbed a tree in the middle of the square and then couldn't get down. She kept asking for help, but no one seemed to notice until this local actually climbed up the tree to help her down. I was oblivious to all of this.
We got pretty obnoxiously American with the Alaskans, and gave up going into bars in favor of sitting in the middle of the square just having good old fashioned conversation (shouting to try and talk over the four different club songs blasting all around us.)
Just as Sophie and I climbed into bed, our friend knocked on the door, having been sexiled. The two beds in our hotel room are pushed together (so there's more room for activities) so we took the heap of our belongings that had accumulated between us and just swept them onto the floor to make room for him. He started to thank us, to which Sophie immediately responded, "If you're gonna stay in here, shut the fuck up and fall asleep already." She's a gem.
Now we're napping before dinner time, and Sophie showed me this SNL short that is absolutely hilarious. It's about coke or drugs or something, I'm not quite sure but it's pants crapping funny and you should all watch it. She showed it to me on her iTouch, which takes forever to load because of the poor internet connection, and we had to try six billion times before it worked. On the 5,999,999,999th try, Sophie handed it to me, showing me how far we'd come (about 3/4 of the way.) I laid one finger on the screen and I froze the iPod. Very discouraging. This story pretty accurately characterizes my experiences with Sophie's iTouch so far. I'm thinking about breaking it in half.
I miss all of you! If you read this message me about your lives!
Our friends from Florida left. They hung by the pool with us after they checked out, as their ferry didn't leave until after dinner time. Sophie and I went inside for a bit to check Facebook and whatnot and when we came back out our friends who were still there asked us if we'd gotten said goodbye to the Florida guys. Oops. See you never.
Here there are little gypsies that go around selling 10 cent glow sticks for a Euro to all the party people. Sophie is pretty much best friends with this one girl selling them. I try to get them to like me, but kids have never really been my thing. Especially these ones who I try and make adult conversation with even though they don't exactly (at all) speak English. I won't give up! There is one who I've made pretty good head way with. She smiles a lot, but she keeps motioning to my jewelry. The jewelry that I wear every day that was my mom's and/or great aunt's. I made the mistake of trading these brand new, 20 Euro earrings, for a glow stick. Which means I paid 19 Euro for a 10 cent bracelet that breaks after one night. I won't be doing that again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me out of precious jewelry, I'm a fucking idiot.
Tomorrow, we move into our apartment and i am DETERMINED to keep it clean. Right now Sophie and I have unpacked...unloaded all our clothes and things in our hotel room. The floor literally has a rug made out of our clothes. New apartment = New leaf. It's the Alaskan's last night tonight, which is so depressing considering they are all so, so hilarious. We'll be celebrating tonight. This will be tough for Sophie, who was struggling against pure exhaustion this morning. I woke up and was absolutely parched, so I asked for the big bottle of water we'd bought in anticipation of our morning desert-mouths. Looking for it, Sophie says "Oh yeah, I chuuugged that last night," just as she finds it. Folks, there was half an inch missing, tops. These are the same big water bottles that we drank in Ireland. They're 1.5 Liters - no I can't convert that - and since everything in Europe is portioned smaller, it's the equivalent of a gallon of water in the states. So we'd always buy them, and bring them to class and get the same looks that an American would get if they were casually sippin' on a gallon jug in global.
Back to Greece. Last night was for some reason the most giddy night every. I laughed until my abs ached, minus the twenty minutes where we compared horror stories. Not like ghost stories, but like mass/fucked up murder/suicide stories about people we knew. One of our Alaskan friends was in the shower for this serious talk, so the soundtrack to the whole conversation was him singing "Empire State of Mind."
The night progressed and we got to the bars around 2:30 (Asian dentist appointment) and I have a nice little chat with a potential employer while Sophie climbed a tree in the middle of the square and then couldn't get down. She kept asking for help, but no one seemed to notice until this local actually climbed up the tree to help her down. I was oblivious to all of this.
We got pretty obnoxiously American with the Alaskans, and gave up going into bars in favor of sitting in the middle of the square just having good old fashioned conversation (shouting to try and talk over the four different club songs blasting all around us.)
Just as Sophie and I climbed into bed, our friend knocked on the door, having been sexiled. The two beds in our hotel room are pushed together (so there's more room for activities) so we took the heap of our belongings that had accumulated between us and just swept them onto the floor to make room for him. He started to thank us, to which Sophie immediately responded, "If you're gonna stay in here, shut the fuck up and fall asleep already." She's a gem.
Now we're napping before dinner time, and Sophie showed me this SNL short that is absolutely hilarious. It's about coke or drugs or something, I'm not quite sure but it's pants crapping funny and you should all watch it. She showed it to me on her iTouch, which takes forever to load because of the poor internet connection, and we had to try six billion times before it worked. On the 5,999,999,999th try, Sophie handed it to me, showing me how far we'd come (about 3/4 of the way.) I laid one finger on the screen and I froze the iPod. Very discouraging. This story pretty accurately characterizes my experiences with Sophie's iTouch so far. I'm thinking about breaking it in half.
I miss all of you! If you read this message me about your lives!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Today, we work.
We did not work today. But we did accomplish something, which is a lot considering all we've done (slash all anyone ever wants to do on Ios) is eat, drink and lay on the beach. But today we went around asking for jobs at restaurants and we've both already gotten a bite. Sophie has a European passport which is like gold over here, because most people are employed under the table and the chance to have a legitimate employee is rare. I got one from a restaurant which hasn't opened yet, but the man with the raspiest voice on planet earth with no shirt on and gray hair on his chest and stomach (and probably ass) told me to come back in a few days followed by swatting a fly off his moob. Still not sure though, as the high season hasn't started yet.
We DID however find an apartment! We will be living with our friend Carmen and her roommate Erica for nine Euro a night and it comes with air conditioning! This is completely necessary right now, and it's only going to get hotter from here on out so this shit is a BIG DEAL.
The only difference between out and inside seems to be the lack of sunlight in our rooms, which keeps them dark all day. I could use this as an explanation for why Sophie and I slept until two p.m. today, but I wouldn't lie to you people. We slept until two p.m. because of how completely obliterated we (and everyone we were with) got last night. I thought I had a pretty good grasp on what happened, but the more we talk with people, the more things seems to crawl out of the woodwork.
Things that have Crawled out of the Woodwork (a.k.a. Apparently...):
1. Sophie and I got gyros with our friend Sam while the rest of the people went to a different bar and continued to dance the night away. We fed a stray cat which was purrin' up a storm, and pretty much right when the 3,289,574 year old man behind the counter handed Sam his gyro, Sophie and I decided to call it a night and bounced, leaving him with a snack and a cat.
2. We watched a fire show at a bar called Circus. Actually what happened was I made Sophie cry while we were waiting for it, and she only stopped (abruptly and completely) when Sam reminded us that the bartender was about to juggle bottles that were on fire. Fire = Enchanting.
3. After we left, our Alaskan friends found one of our Floridian friends passed out and alone and brought him home. In their words "There was a strobe light so everyone kept moving and dancing with every flash except this one mass, face down in the corner." Way to be good friends, fellas.
4. Sophie broke her toe on the walk home somehow, and my response to her compaints (pun) was, "I believe you that it hurts, but I still think you're being a little BITCH." I'm gonna go a head and classify myself as a good friend.
Trends I've Noticed:
1. Everyday on the beach, Sophie and I HOUSE a bag of pita chips and dank cheese dip that we're pretty sure contains the same amount of calories as straight up lard, but we can't read the Greek nutrition facts, so it's not really an issue.
2. Sophie and I come back to our room at least once a night to get money. Not for alcohol, but for fries or gyros.
3. Every morning, I wake up first and Sophie is wearing whatever outfit she was wearing last night.
4. Every morning, I wake up first and I am wearing nothing.
Also, last night we visited Carmen at work and got drinks. She ordered us beers and brought out a bowl of chips which were gone in no less than 7.56 seconds. We asked for seconds (not allowed). We had met two girls from Toronto that night at the pregame by the pool at the hotel and they came and sat when they spotted us. These girls are in their mid twenties and were exponentially less drunk than we were because they are mature. When their bowl of chips came, we beat our record. I'm not even sure if they got a chip, and they dip-set pretty quick after. I think our appetite frightened them. We are nomsters.
Also, I got a book from Barnes & Nobles before coming here because I'm determined to finish a book this summer. When I actually bought it, my friend Nate was working the register. The last time I'd seen him was six months earlier when I'd come in to buy a book to finish. I had to admit to Nate that I hadn't even gotten four chapters into that book and had given up. I still haven't gotten past page 30 of my book. Sophie started a book yesterday and is already one third of the way done with David Beckham's 380 page autobiography (yes, David Beckham has a 380-page-long life.) I know it's not a race...but it kind of is.
We DID however find an apartment! We will be living with our friend Carmen and her roommate Erica for nine Euro a night and it comes with air conditioning! This is completely necessary right now, and it's only going to get hotter from here on out so this shit is a BIG DEAL.
The only difference between out and inside seems to be the lack of sunlight in our rooms, which keeps them dark all day. I could use this as an explanation for why Sophie and I slept until two p.m. today, but I wouldn't lie to you people. We slept until two p.m. because of how completely obliterated we (and everyone we were with) got last night. I thought I had a pretty good grasp on what happened, but the more we talk with people, the more things seems to crawl out of the woodwork.
Things that have Crawled out of the Woodwork (a.k.a. Apparently...):
1. Sophie and I got gyros with our friend Sam while the rest of the people went to a different bar and continued to dance the night away. We fed a stray cat which was purrin' up a storm, and pretty much right when the 3,289,574 year old man behind the counter handed Sam his gyro, Sophie and I decided to call it a night and bounced, leaving him with a snack and a cat.
2. We watched a fire show at a bar called Circus. Actually what happened was I made Sophie cry while we were waiting for it, and she only stopped (abruptly and completely) when Sam reminded us that the bartender was about to juggle bottles that were on fire. Fire = Enchanting.
3. After we left, our Alaskan friends found one of our Floridian friends passed out and alone and brought him home. In their words "There was a strobe light so everyone kept moving and dancing with every flash except this one mass, face down in the corner." Way to be good friends, fellas.
4. Sophie broke her toe on the walk home somehow, and my response to her compaints (pun) was, "I believe you that it hurts, but I still think you're being a little BITCH." I'm gonna go a head and classify myself as a good friend.
Trends I've Noticed:
1. Everyday on the beach, Sophie and I HOUSE a bag of pita chips and dank cheese dip that we're pretty sure contains the same amount of calories as straight up lard, but we can't read the Greek nutrition facts, so it's not really an issue.
2. Sophie and I come back to our room at least once a night to get money. Not for alcohol, but for fries or gyros.
3. Every morning, I wake up first and Sophie is wearing whatever outfit she was wearing last night.
4. Every morning, I wake up first and I am wearing nothing.
Also, last night we visited Carmen at work and got drinks. She ordered us beers and brought out a bowl of chips which were gone in no less than 7.56 seconds. We asked for seconds (not allowed). We had met two girls from Toronto that night at the pregame by the pool at the hotel and they came and sat when they spotted us. These girls are in their mid twenties and were exponentially less drunk than we were because they are mature. When their bowl of chips came, we beat our record. I'm not even sure if they got a chip, and they dip-set pretty quick after. I think our appetite frightened them. We are nomsters.
Also, I got a book from Barnes & Nobles before coming here because I'm determined to finish a book this summer. When I actually bought it, my friend Nate was working the register. The last time I'd seen him was six months earlier when I'd come in to buy a book to finish. I had to admit to Nate that I hadn't even gotten four chapters into that book and had given up. I still haven't gotten past page 30 of my book. Sophie started a book yesterday and is already one third of the way done with David Beckham's 380 page autobiography (yes, David Beckham has a 380-page-long life.) I know it's not a race...but it kind of is.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Herro from Ios!
The good news is, we made it to Ios. The bad news is, it's 9:30 a.m. and I'm already awake. I'm going to blame Jayne on this one, who has never let me sleep past this time in my whole life. Not to mention that Sophie doesn't typically wake up until lunch time, so I'm stuck in our room, chugging the last inch of water and periodically looking over the balcony at the pool, searching for signs of life.
The signs of life would come from our new Calgarian (Canadian), Alaskan and Floridian friends. Lat night was this chick's 19th birthday, and we spent the pregame learning games unique to our respective regions. Naturally, everyone sucked at each other's games. Except for Fuck The Dealer, which for some reason everyone was extremely good at. The dealer was consistently fucked.
It was a pretty solid first night out on the island, which we definitely deserved after the dismal finale to our time in Athens. On a train we took two days ago (still in Athens), we met guys staying at our hostel and also who were travelling to Ios in three days time. They are Austrailan and bar non THE most boring humans ever to walk gods green earth (this is about to get mean, so if this sounds like you so far, stop reading.) They're built like brick shithouses and as our friend said, put together they have about the personality of a goldfish. I'd wager that goldfish is dead and has been for weeks now. To give you an idea of how boring they are...Within the first ten minutes of meeting them, Sophie and I were making some jokes about missing the ferry, blah, blah, blah. We got nothing but crickets on all of them. Every time they just stared at us while we laughed and it got so awkward that Sophie and I actually turned away, assuming the conversation was dead and burried. But they kept pursuing the conversation, asking questions like, "Is it true you can't drink the water on the islands?" to which we responded yes, and that an Austrailian girl we befriended last year had accidentally drank a glass of it and ended up in the hospital for three days. One of them sort of cocked his head to the side and asked if the girl's name was Mary (it was.) This happened to be his ex girlfriend, an AMAZING fact which he delivered as if he were telling us our toast had just popped. And then he just changed the subject. What kind of person doesn't think finding a mutual friend between an Austrailian and two Americans and finding this out within the first ten minutes of knowing each other is astounding? Who can't sustain a conversation about that?
Aaaanyway, enough about them. I could probably say a lot more, but I read it over and I already feel pretty mean. I feel like if they die in the near future I'll be implicated in their murder.
Other interesting things that happend before just now:
1. An adorable blonde girl no older than five sat two rows away from us on the ferry. Fifteen minutes into the ride, I was actually woken up from sleep by this girl literally wailing. Not just crying - this chick was miz. This persisted until we docked on Ios.
2. We napped for a casual five and a half hours right when we got to our hotel, and woke up to a wedding reception going on at the pool bar, where our friend from last year was so fucked up that he couldn't hoist himself out of the pool.
3. The hotel owner/our boi, Mike, may have found us a job at the beach club called Far Out. The uniform is bikinis.
4. We're cliff diving today with our new Alaskan friends. I'll be doing my own version of it, which is more like small rock diving, since I'm way to afraid of heights.
5. Gary Coleman died. Whatchu talkin' bout, God?!
Also, we should probably start looking for an apartment today. I'm horrible with rejection, so if shit goes sour, I might just cliff dive into an empty pool. (It's a joke, mom, relax.)
xoxo Gossip Gurl
The signs of life would come from our new Calgarian (Canadian), Alaskan and Floridian friends. Lat night was this chick's 19th birthday, and we spent the pregame learning games unique to our respective regions. Naturally, everyone sucked at each other's games. Except for Fuck The Dealer, which for some reason everyone was extremely good at. The dealer was consistently fucked.
It was a pretty solid first night out on the island, which we definitely deserved after the dismal finale to our time in Athens. On a train we took two days ago (still in Athens), we met guys staying at our hostel and also who were travelling to Ios in three days time. They are Austrailan and bar non THE most boring humans ever to walk gods green earth (this is about to get mean, so if this sounds like you so far, stop reading.) They're built like brick shithouses and as our friend said, put together they have about the personality of a goldfish. I'd wager that goldfish is dead and has been for weeks now. To give you an idea of how boring they are...Within the first ten minutes of meeting them, Sophie and I were making some jokes about missing the ferry, blah, blah, blah. We got nothing but crickets on all of them. Every time they just stared at us while we laughed and it got so awkward that Sophie and I actually turned away, assuming the conversation was dead and burried. But they kept pursuing the conversation, asking questions like, "Is it true you can't drink the water on the islands?" to which we responded yes, and that an Austrailian girl we befriended last year had accidentally drank a glass of it and ended up in the hospital for three days. One of them sort of cocked his head to the side and asked if the girl's name was Mary (it was.) This happened to be his ex girlfriend, an AMAZING fact which he delivered as if he were telling us our toast had just popped. And then he just changed the subject. What kind of person doesn't think finding a mutual friend between an Austrailian and two Americans and finding this out within the first ten minutes of knowing each other is astounding? Who can't sustain a conversation about that?
Aaaanyway, enough about them. I could probably say a lot more, but I read it over and I already feel pretty mean. I feel like if they die in the near future I'll be implicated in their murder.
Other interesting things that happend before just now:
1. An adorable blonde girl no older than five sat two rows away from us on the ferry. Fifteen minutes into the ride, I was actually woken up from sleep by this girl literally wailing. Not just crying - this chick was miz. This persisted until we docked on Ios.
2. We napped for a casual five and a half hours right when we got to our hotel, and woke up to a wedding reception going on at the pool bar, where our friend from last year was so fucked up that he couldn't hoist himself out of the pool.
3. The hotel owner/our boi, Mike, may have found us a job at the beach club called Far Out. The uniform is bikinis.
4. We're cliff diving today with our new Alaskan friends. I'll be doing my own version of it, which is more like small rock diving, since I'm way to afraid of heights.
5. Gary Coleman died. Whatchu talkin' bout, God?!
Also, we should probably start looking for an apartment today. I'm horrible with rejection, so if shit goes sour, I might just cliff dive into an empty pool. (It's a joke, mom, relax.)
xoxo Gossip Gurl
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Herro From Athens!
Hey everbody! I'm making a blog. If you're thinking to yourself, she's doing this because she watched Julie & Julia, you are right. Eventually this should become a movie in which I will be portrayed by Meryl Streep. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Sophie and I arrived in Athens yesterday and have already fucked up. Right now we should be on the island Ios, but we are sort of incompetent so we won't be arriving until tomorrow. Nothing very interesting happened on the flight here, except that we spent 25 dollars on salads at Houlihan's in Logan airport and I sat next to a woman so old and wrinkly that she was either Mother Time or a Sharpei animorph. I'll never know.
We checked into our hostel yesterday around 3:20 and took the impossibly small elevator to our room on the second floor. Sophie set her alarm so we could take an hour long nap. Exactly four hours later we woke up and explored until dinner time. Out of the six beds in our room, two were taken by our newest Asian friends, Betsy and The-One-That-Talked. They came from Malaysia which honest to god was a fictional country created for the movie Zoolander until they told us. They speak perfect Engrish and their native language is about as commonly used in their country as Gaelic is in Ireland (that is the first of a few Ireland references I'll be dropping cause I lived there for four months and I want everyone to know it.) So, no real language + citizens with no personalities = fictional country. I don't know why I'm still talking about them considering we only saw them twice, but there you have it.
The rooftop of our hostel has a bar on top of it that has awesome views of the Acropolis, Parthenon and other stuff. We arrived there two minutes after happy hour ended, but sucked it up and dropped a few extra Euro for our drinks. We met the bartenders, one of which is from Tazmania while the other is from England. We also met Americans from California, Colorado, Indiana (huge tools), and Virginia and got to know them over a beer or six or seven. AT THIS POINT we had no intentions of going out because we had to get to a ferry port we didn't know how to get to and get tickets for a boat at 6 a.m. the next morning.
At around sometime o'clock, the bardenters gave the last call, saying they'd meet everyone in the lounge after they closed up the bar. The question was posed again of whether or not we'd be joining everyone. "My mind is telling me no, but my body's telling me yes." - R. Kelly. I looked over at my conscience (Sophie) and she nodded. Commence bad decision #2 (the first being the 25$ salads.)
Long story short, we went out with the rationalization that we should stay up all night and sleep on the 8 hour ferry ride to Ios the next morning (this is obviously absurd, but peer pressure is my Kryptonite.) Plus, everyone was doing it.
Interesting things that happened when we were out:
1. Our 5' nothing navy friend punching a local so hard that a witness called the police, who detained him probably until he flexed and they released him.
2. Finding out that one of the bartenders was actually a lead role in Tazmania's version of High School Musical.
Then we missed our ferry and were woken up at 1 p.m. by the maid trying to remake our beds for the next people staying in them that night. So Sophie booked us both the last two beds in the place in separate rooms while I watched Sonya strip our beds and tried not to projectile vomit on her.
We have high hopes for tomorrow. I stopped booting around two after chugging what I'm pretty sure was cream (I asked for milk) at lunch. We took a half hour subway to Pireaus port and booked our ferry tickets. Nothing motivates us to follow through with something like money, so we'll be taking it easy tonight.
Island tomorrow! We booked the hotel we stayed at last year for a week or so. Still no permanent place to stay. Still no jobs.
Miss you all! sort of...
JUST KIDDING. love you
Sophie and I arrived in Athens yesterday and have already fucked up. Right now we should be on the island Ios, but we are sort of incompetent so we won't be arriving until tomorrow. Nothing very interesting happened on the flight here, except that we spent 25 dollars on salads at Houlihan's in Logan airport and I sat next to a woman so old and wrinkly that she was either Mother Time or a Sharpei animorph. I'll never know.
We checked into our hostel yesterday around 3:20 and took the impossibly small elevator to our room on the second floor. Sophie set her alarm so we could take an hour long nap. Exactly four hours later we woke up and explored until dinner time. Out of the six beds in our room, two were taken by our newest Asian friends, Betsy and The-One-That-Talked. They came from Malaysia which honest to god was a fictional country created for the movie Zoolander until they told us. They speak perfect Engrish and their native language is about as commonly used in their country as Gaelic is in Ireland (that is the first of a few Ireland references I'll be dropping cause I lived there for four months and I want everyone to know it.) So, no real language + citizens with no personalities = fictional country. I don't know why I'm still talking about them considering we only saw them twice, but there you have it.
The rooftop of our hostel has a bar on top of it that has awesome views of the Acropolis, Parthenon and other stuff. We arrived there two minutes after happy hour ended, but sucked it up and dropped a few extra Euro for our drinks. We met the bartenders, one of which is from Tazmania while the other is from England. We also met Americans from California, Colorado, Indiana (huge tools), and Virginia and got to know them over a beer or six or seven. AT THIS POINT we had no intentions of going out because we had to get to a ferry port we didn't know how to get to and get tickets for a boat at 6 a.m. the next morning.
At around sometime o'clock, the bardenters gave the last call, saying they'd meet everyone in the lounge after they closed up the bar. The question was posed again of whether or not we'd be joining everyone. "My mind is telling me no, but my body's telling me yes." - R. Kelly. I looked over at my conscience (Sophie) and she nodded. Commence bad decision #2 (the first being the 25$ salads.)
Long story short, we went out with the rationalization that we should stay up all night and sleep on the 8 hour ferry ride to Ios the next morning (this is obviously absurd, but peer pressure is my Kryptonite.) Plus, everyone was doing it.
Interesting things that happened when we were out:
1. Our 5' nothing navy friend punching a local so hard that a witness called the police, who detained him probably until he flexed and they released him.
2. Finding out that one of the bartenders was actually a lead role in Tazmania's version of High School Musical.
Then we missed our ferry and were woken up at 1 p.m. by the maid trying to remake our beds for the next people staying in them that night. So Sophie booked us both the last two beds in the place in separate rooms while I watched Sonya strip our beds and tried not to projectile vomit on her.
We have high hopes for tomorrow. I stopped booting around two after chugging what I'm pretty sure was cream (I asked for milk) at lunch. We took a half hour subway to Pireaus port and booked our ferry tickets. Nothing motivates us to follow through with something like money, so we'll be taking it easy tonight.
Island tomorrow! We booked the hotel we stayed at last year for a week or so. Still no permanent place to stay. Still no jobs.
Miss you all! sort of...
JUST KIDDING. love you
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