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.