Loyola will change but the friends and memories will remain

I was walking around campus the other day, thinking about how many things have changed since our freshman year. Surf n’ Joes and Salsa Rico have been replaced with more hip chains like Red Mango and Starbucks. What used to be a free parking lot at the library has turned into a study spot for $2.00 an hour.

Diane Geppi Aikens Field went from being the main sports field to a place for club sports and kickball tournaments, overshadowed by the new and improved Ridley Athletic Complex. Nicholas the Greyhound, who was frequently leashed around Loyola’s campus, hit his canine retirement and no longer frolics around the quad. Donnelly Science Center has been redesigned, renovated and finished, filled with new labs I never have and never will make use of.
We entered the school as undergraduates of Loyola College, and we will leave as alumni of Loyola University.

A wave of goose bumps overcame me, and I got scared for a minute. Do I have to go around campus with a video camera so I can look back and remember how Loyola was in this moment? Will I come back in a year, or five years, or ten years and hardly recognize where I spent four of the best years of my life?

I continued my walk, nearing the hot spot of the quad. I waved hello to a girl from my lacrosse team. I stopped to talk to one of my roommates for a few minutes. I smiled at an old professor. I said “hi” to a boy in one of my class groups. I slapped five with a good friend.

Soon enough, my goose bumps were replaced by nostalgia. These people, these incredible people are who really matter when looking back on it all. They always tell you that things come full circle during your senior year and “they,” whomever they might be, are right.

Over these last few days of my college career, I am tempted to climb to the top of the chapel and scream out “THANK YOU” to everyone I’ve crossed paths with these last four years. Old friends and new, you will be the memory I have of this school.

Instead of recalling the new location of the study abroad office, I’ll remember the friend I lived in Amsterdam with for five months. Instead of remembering how Primo’s looked before it became Iggy’s Market, I’ll remember the people who I can sit at a table with for three hours without a second of silence.

Instead of missing the OJ that used to flow from Surf N’ Joes, I’ll miss the friends I have from Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Connecticut, California and perhaps even New Jersey, who aren’t a 20-minute drive from my New York abode. Instead of wondering when Loyola will build a football team, I’ll wonder if everyone I met over the past four years misses our time at Loyola as much as I do.

Loyola, you may change your name, you may change your frame, but you will never change the people who came. Mom and dad, thank you for a $200,000 more than well spent. My fellow classmates and friends, never change.

#whatshouldwecallme

There are usually several websites that I can count on people visiting during class time where computer screens are open. I often see my classmates browsing Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Barstool or ESPN. Recently, there has been a phenomenom with a Tumblr called "What Should We Call Me". It's an entertaining site that has short silent video clips along with a caption that usually relate to some everyday thing a lot of college students can relate to. I became aware of "What Should We Call Me" about a month ago when a friend posted a link on my Facebook wall. At first, I was extremely confused on what the link was, until I started seeing dozens of similar posts throughout Facebook.

What is so compelling about this site? Well, it is highly addictive for one. Once you start browsing through all the funny comments, you can't stop scrolling through the pages. One clip pops up and you automatically think of a specific person it reminds you of, or perhaps it is yourself.

Due to the popularity of this site, people started creating their own similar sites, mostly made to represent a specific college. For example, Yale has one called "Life Of A Bob Kitten" and several of their captions are specifically related to things that occur on that specific campus. Is #whatshouldwecallme just a fad, or will more sites be created that attract older audiences? Maybe some "What Should We Call Me" posts can be about meetings or phonecalls or job interviews.

Prime Time Television In Trouble?

I recently read an article in the New York Times discussing the face that prime time program viewing has decreased significantly. In mid March, NBC lost about 3 percent of its prime time viewers. Last year around the same time, ABC, CBS and Fox had even higher percentages of decreased viewing. What does this mean for the networks? Will networks soon be extinct because of online television resources such as Netflix and Hulu?

Netflix and Hulu give viewers a chance to watch their favorite TV shows whenever they please. Although there are still some people who like the thrill of watching a Wednesday night show at 9 o clock because the thrill of knowing this is new and no one has seen it yet, a large majority of people would prefer to watch it the next day, perhaps during a lunch break or free time.

Although the major networks might be in a little trouble due to lack of viewership on the television itself, I still believe their time is not over. Networks often hit this trouble spot after daylight savings time. Since at 8 o'clock it is still light outside, people either forget that their favorite show is about to start or they are not in the mood to watch television since it still seems like it is day time. Hmm, maybe prime time television should keep it's hope for the winter seasons.

Socially Removed

Something I like to observe when I'm sitting with a group of my friends is how many of them are involed in separate activities using their technology. I touched upon this topic in the post about 'screens' so I took it upon myself so observe some of my friends closer.

My roommates and I have dinner together often. We all like to cook and we invite our other friends over for dinner pretty often. Recently there were about 7 of us sitting at the dinner table. Usually it is silent because everyone is eating, but this time I looked around and 5 out of 7 people were on their phones. I had just put my phone down so only me and one other friend wasn't engaged with their technology. I made two or three comments before anyone really looked up and reacted. I said something like "what is going on?" assuming there might be something interesting going on.

One of the most common reactions when everyone looks up from their phones at the same time is something along the lines of "did you see what 'so and so' tweeted?" or " did you see her status?". Even though a large group of my friends could be sitting in the same room, everyone is still contsantly occupied with knowing what everyone ELSE is doing. Although everyone is engaging in the same social activity of sitting together at the dinner table, people are socially removed from this specific situation and are entering themselves socially through their phones or other forms of technology.

I find myself doing this and get mad. If we continue to be so involved with our screens, the future will look quite depressing. There is a scene in Wall-E that reminds me of what the future could come to if we are constantly involved in our screens. Everyone is large and round sitting on motorized chairs with screens surrounding their heads. No effort needed at all. It's a scary though.

What is your Tattoo Saying?

Several of my friends spent a semester abroad in Thailand during their junior year. Near the end of their journey, several of them decided to get tattoos. One particular friend of mine, Patty, shared her tattoo experience with me. Her tattoo, which is displayed across her left forearm, is written in Thai and is translated in English to “wild is the wind”. At first I assumed that ‘wild as the wind’ was just a traditional Thai phrase that Patty liked so she decided to get it tattooed on her arm. When I asked her about it, she told me it was actually something she always says. When she was younger and still to this day, “wild is the wind” is just a phrase she always enjoyed saying in regards to freedom and spontaneity.

“It just means, you know, be like the wind, be free, be spontaneous. It’s a phrase I always say so it really means something to me,” Patty said.

Most people I know with tattoos say they do not regret getting them or at least claim they do not regret getting them. Patty was one of these people. When I asked her if she had any regrets about getting her tattoo she said absolutely not. She told me that she only loves it more and more every day. “Wild is the wind” is a phrase that has made her who she is and will continue to shape her in the future so she thinks it is meaningful to have it inked onto her skin. Will she change her mind in the future? Who knows.

For Patty, getting this tattoo was a way for her to outwardly express something that is meaningful to her, which is an aspect of pop culture. Today, we are able to tweet about something we care about, or post a picture or video, many visual things. Getting tattoos falls somewhere in this category. We can change our mind a lot on the internet, but getting something as permanent as a tattoo shows a strong devotion to that topic. It is a way for Patty to express her identity and will forever remind her of the amazing journey she had while studying abroad. It relates one particular time in her life to something that defines her whole identity and whole life.

Another person close to me that has a tattoo is my sister, Katherine. For about 16 months after she graduated college, she traveled around Australia, New Zealand and Papua New Guinea for a volunteer program called Oceans Watch. Near the end of her experience, sometime when she was in Australia, she received a tattoo on her ribs in a nice thin font saying: “mad to live”.  Similar to Patty’s reasoning for getting her tattoo, my sister has lived by the quote “mad to live” for a while. It comes for her favorite book On the Road by Jack Kerouac. The full quote reads: “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle, you see the blue center-light pop, and everybody goes ahh...” This is her favorite quote from the book as she feels it relates to her life. My sister loves to travel and meet interesting people along the way, and during her travels she was only reminded of her favorite quote and felt it was important to her to get it tattooed on her body. When she first got the tattoo, she told me that as her life goes on, she could eventually add more to the tattoo to go along with the quote. For example, under her original tattoo, she might eventually get the tattoo “mad to talk”.

She was extremely nervous to tell my parents about getting the tattoo and both of us had to keep the secret until one day we were on a family vacation in Florida and my sister had to wear a bathing suit. Fortunately, my parents were not angry at her, and actually had expected that she would get a tattoo. My parents, however, do not think that getting a tattoo is the best way of expressing something meaningful. My mom always says to me: “when I die, please do NOT get a tattoo of my name”. Although I will rightfully respect my moms request, what’s to stop me from getting a tattoo later in life when something meaningful rolls along. Is it more meaningful for me to express something with a tattoo, or with something simply social like a tweet or Facebook upload? Do people really get tattoos because it means something to them, or is it a way or showing the rest of the world something about his or her identity. Eventually people go from just having one or two tattoos to having 10 or 20. Each of these tattoos might say something about a person, whether it is extremely personal, or very simple, like a tattoo of a wave because that person likes to swim. It’s a different way of expressing identity.

What Screens are you Using?

I took this picture of my roommate in our apartment the other day. We were both sitting on our separate beds on our separate computers simultaneously doing really nothing. Even though we were three feet away in the same room, instead of talking to each other we were staring at the screens of our computers. My roommate’s computer screen also shows that she is on facebook chat. In this case, her use of the screen is helping her communicate easily with others. Chatting via facebook is one way that people find extremely necessary to communicate through and it would be impossible to do this without a screen, whether it be a computer screen, iPhone, Android, etc. This particular photo would be an example of how screens can sometimes create isolation. More often than not, when I see people walking around campus alone I see them on their cell phones or ipods. I am definitely a victim of that as well. Since we have the option to whip out our “screens” to interact, play a game, listen to music or browse the Web, why wouldn’t we? We are physically alone, but we are using our sources of technology to feel surrounded and interactive. In reality, I’m sure there have been times where I’ve been too glued to my phone and didn’t look up to say hello to someone. With that person criticize me for being isolate on my technology and ignoring them? Or will that person not have seen me either because they too were distracted by a certain screen.



This next picture is of my friend Gina intently watching a Justin Bieber music video. I took this picture a few months ago when my roommates and I had serious Bieber Fever. We would occasionally watch Justin Bieber’s music videos for entertainment. Although Gina could have easily been watching the screen alone in a corner, we were indeed surrounding the screen as a group so it was a somewhat inclusive activity rather than isolation. To go into deeper context, the use of the screen in this case was our way to get closer to a celebrity. Since we can’t be with them in person and have them perform for us, we turn to the use of screens to get a close enough feeling. The sad thing is we didn’t just watch one music video, the time flew as we watched about six Justin Bieber videos. So we watched for about a half hour. Maybe that’s pathetic, but it felt like we were just watching an episode of television, except we were able to control what we wanted to watch, and that’s the bottom line. The role of technology in pop culture today has a lot to do with control.




These two photos are a before and after picture of my friend when she died her hair. She made a split second decision while we were abroad last year to die her golden locks brown. In the first picture, she is using her computer screen to follow directions on how to use the hair dye. She used her computer screen as a reference point during the entire process. Although printed out directions also came with the dye, which is also visible in the picture, for some reason it seemed more trusted to look up how to do it online. This also says something about screens and pop culture: instead of trusting one source, we feel it necessary to use our technology to see what other people have to say. The next picture is when her hair is actually dyed. After using her computer screen to follow instructions, she is now using her screen to communicate to people “Hey! I just dyed my hair! Omg!” In one situation she has used the screen in both an informative and a communicative manner. Did this isolate her? No, not exactly. The screens helped her to feel more comfortable and confident during her hair dying process. It also enabled her to keep all of her friends and family in touch with what she was doing. Not only is a ‘status update’ wildly used in society today, but it was also helpful since we were in Europe and using our computers was the easiest way to communicate with people.



In this last picture, the screen is actually not visible. We were having a party in my apartment a few months ago and an important sports game was playing so everyone crowded around our awkwardly small TV screen. This was the only ‘screen’ in our apartment that was playing the game and therefore it became a priority for people to pay attention to it. Most of the people who were interested in watching the game stood around the television screen for the entire remainder of the game, not really aware of what was going on around them. It didn’t really bother other people at the party because it seemed like a normal occurrence
Screens are everywhere. In our day and age we cannot avoid them.  Most of these photos, I took without the intention of pointing out that people pay far too much attention to the screens in our lives. That says something about how accustomed we are today to using these screens in every episode of our life. We look at a screen when we wake up. We pass several screens on our way to class. We use several screens while in class. And in this class, we assess the use of screens themselves. There is no way to avoid them. If someone asked you how much time on average do you spend in front of a screen, you might not give an accurate answer. We spend so much time in front of screens that we couldn’t even calculate it.

Is Pinterest Here To Stay?

In total Internet traffic in January 2012, Pinterest placed fifth, beating out YouTube and coming extremely close to overcoming Twitter. Can Pinterest compete with other social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter? I think it can, but only to a certain extent.

Recently, Mashable posted an article reporting that Pinterest has developed a new layout. Rather than having five cluttered columns with photos for people to pin, Pinterest will do something that is pretty similar to Facebook’s timeline, although CEO Ben Silbermann claims that Pinterest is very distinguishable from the timeline setting on Facebook. Yet, it’s hard not to relate it to the top social networking site.

For those who are unaware of the recently popular website Pinterest, the site allows users to “pin” photos and descriptions that interest them. This could be anything from pinning a picture of a ridiculously cute bulldog riding a swing to pinning a picture of a blue window that you want in your future home.

This might seem like a strange concept; in fact, similar ideas have failed in the past. Pinterest, however, works. Pinterest gives users the ability to monitor whose pins they can see and what genres of pins they are exposed to. Each person can personalize his or her profiles with different pin boards. For example, I have a pin board entitled “Home Sweet Home” where I pin everything home-related that I like, such as gorgeously decorated kitchens or funky staircases.

Pinterest is unique enough to work as an additional social networking site rather than as a replacement for sites like Facebook or Twitter. An extremely visual site, Pinterest can be highly addicting, especially during class time. Sometimes browsing on Facebook can get extremely repetitive and boring, whereas Pinterest is rather, “pinteresting.” Pinterest also incorporates the idea of the “retweet” by allowing users to pin others posts.

I do have one concern, however, and that is Pinterest’s lack of appeal to all demographics. How many males are actually using Pinterest? Out of 133 people I follow on the site, only four of them are males. As successful as the site may be for females, I feel like males have other sites to express their interest in “masculine” pastimes. Pinning pictures of a basketball might not really do it for them.
Pinterest is definitely an exciting website to be part of the social networking mix, but how long will it last? I enjoy Pinterest, but new sites launch daily. Who knows which site will grab my attention next?

Inconveniences of air travel don’t detract fun

As a result of the recent fuselage breakage incident that took place on a Southwest Boeing airplane, air travel has not been viewed in the most positive of lights. We all have certain fears about flying, and it is a rather serious endeavor, but I get such a thrill and pleasure out of the flying experience as a whole.

For me, most of the entertainment takes place in the airport. I love airports. I spend most of my time people watching and contemplating the endless possibilities of someone's "story" that I make up in my mind. Do you think that man and woman are dating? Hmm, their body language is a bit awkward and they are wearing professional clothes—maybe they are on a business trip?

Once it's time to go through security, make sure to have your identification and boarding pass readily available. The security guy hardly cracks a smile as I hand him my NY License and flimsy boarding pass. He takes out his handy dandy flashlight and grills my ID as if I am a terrorist hiding weapons in my Vera Bradley duffle. The girl in front of me looked like Lily Pulitzer barfed all over her, yet the guard was just as serious. Better safe than sorry.

If you are a frequent traveler, you are prepared for the routine that takes place at the security belt. By the time I'm up to the security belt, I've already got my laptop in hand, shoes off, liquids in plastic bags and jewelry clutched in my fist. Unfortunately, it is probable that you will get behind the traveler who takes their sweet time during this process, and when they approach the security belt, they have merely squinted at the sign to see what size liquids are acceptable. Three ounces, people.

If you manage to make it this far without being chosen at random for a full-body frisking, it's time to proceed to the gate listed on your ticket. All of a sudden, you are swarmed by travelers in every direction, and the airport begins to look more and more like a shopping mall. Something I find funny about airports is that regardless of the time of day, it seems acceptable to eat whatever you want before your flight. It's 9 a.m. and you're chomping down a Big Mac or a full chicken parm dinner? There's no way I am sitting near you on the plane.

"We are now boarding all passengers in group C." If you fly on a seat-yourself airline like Southwest, this announcement usually results in passengers swarming to their respective poles, anxious to fight for the last two window or aisle seats. Once you've mashed yourself in between those two people you saw eating McDonalds, you pray they won't start biting your ear off. Sure enough, the man sitting to your left has a niece who graduated from Loyola, so you can't help but dread the hours of forced enthusiasm that await you.

The flight attendant finally interrupts the painful conversation by offering free drinks. I obviously always choose to order a ginger ale because, as Mommy taught me when I was five, it settles your stomach. Suddenly, the plane begins to shake and the pilot gets on the loud speaker: "We are currently experiencing some turbulence in the area. We should start to fly smoothly again in about 10 minutes or so." As much as you can claim you have no fear of flying, you can't help but think for that split second, "What if we went down?" Then your heart starts beating out of your chest, and your hands get all clammy, and suddenly you are convincing yourself that there's no way the plane can crash because Rihanna is sitting three rows ahead of you, and how dare a plane crash with a superstar on board. The flight gets smooth again and you sigh to yourself in relief. The next song you choose to play on your iPod is Bob Marley's "Everything Is Gonna Be Alright."

As the plane begins to descend, the flight attendant catches you with your headphones in and iPod on and restates her words of authority, "ALL electronics must be powered OFF."

As soon as the wheels hit the ground and the plane has safely landed, you anxiously reach into your carry-on bag and turn your phone on. No text messages. No BBMs. Only an email from the New York Times. I guess you're really not as important as you think.

Once you've exited the plane, you weave through people and rush to the exit, nauseated yet heartwarmed by people holding "WELCOME HOME" signs and flowers for their loved ones. After spending hours of travel time people watching and curiously observing strangers, you can't help but wonder if anyone is looking at you and thinking to themselves: "What's her story?"

FOX’s teen drama Glee illustrates perils of underage drinking

The power of Glee has reached a whole new level. The show started off as a simple group of high school students battling between the desire to be popular and being a nerd in the Glee club (more formerly known as New Directions.) Working off of its high horse, Glee has recently featured celebrities such as John Stamos and Gwenyth Paltrow, but that's not all. The show, at times a heartwarming depiction of reality and at others ridiculously farfetched, has now begun to incorporate teaching life lessons into every episode.

One of the first issues tackled was bullying. Dave, the Glee character who plays the role of the consistent slushy-throwing bully, finally came around a little bit in the premiere of the spring season. He was so inspired by the choreographed dance to "Thriller" at the halftime show that he hopped right on the field to join in and forgot about all the tension and differences.

The following episode revolved around Valentine's Day and featured many love songs. Here comes the unexpected: Puck, the hot football jock, fell for Lauren, the nerdy, female wrestler. Maybe opposites do attract. In this same episode, everybody caught mono, mainly because Quinn cheated on Sam with Finn. Here it seemed as if the directors of Glee were teaching us that it is wrong to cheat on your boyfriend or girlfriend.

The third episode was all about the Bieber experience. Well…I guess the only lesson learned here was that Bieber Fever really does exist. I'M A BELIEBER!

The most recent episode, "Blame it on the Alcohol," tackles one of the most controversial issues in our society: underage drinking. The audience of college students probably all had a similar reaction: "YES! THEY'RE GONNA GET DRUNK!" Parents of younger children and high school students might have been disappointed, claiming that the episode sent a provocative message. However, it wasn't until the end of the episode that viewers realized that Glee actually approached this topic with a smarter strategy.

After the Glee club performed "Tik Tok" by artist "Key-dollar-sign-HA," the episode came full circle. As bothersome as it was to watch the Brillo-headed teacher Mr. Schuester act as a father-figure to the kids in Glee club, the overall message made complete sense. Underage drinking is inevitable. Although our parents and elders may not accept it, the least they can do is be available for us, rather than scare kids into making even worse decisions.

Maybe you drank in high school, maybe you didn't. Maybe you drink in college, maybe you don't. Maybe you were an early bloomer and started drinking in seventh grade. I remember my first drink, and I certainly didn't come running home to share the news with my mom and dad. Instead, I rummaged through the fridge when I got home to find anything with garlic or chocolate to cover up the smell in my mouth.

Things have certainly changed since that day, mainly because I did my best to respect my parents and their rules as they respected me as a growing teenager. They were by no means buying me bottles of Bacardi Razz and pouring me shots before my friend's Sweet Sixteen; however, I did know that my dad would pick me up at any time and anywhere without question. To this day, my dad still wouldn't deny me this promise. (Yes, he is the greatest man I know.)

At the end of the day, Glee is making a smart move. Although the show might appeal to the younger crowd, there are a large amount of adult Gleeks out there. Maybe those extremely strict parents with kids who get blood alcohol poisoning their first night out at college might rethink the way they handle underage drinking.

So fellow classmates, if you ever find yourself in an unsafe situation due to drinking, just call Mr. Schuester's cell and he will pick you up no matter where you are—even if it means he has to drive all the way to Baltimore from McKinley High in Ohio or some flashy set in L.A. Or you could call my dad.

And that's what you missed on…GLEE!

Greek life at Loyola would only complicate a divided campus

Last weekend was the conclusion to Loyola's sorority and fraternity pledge week. The sororities on Guilford Avenue were excited to announce that they have received the highest number of recruits in the history of Loyola, and the fraternities on York Road didn't share much information, though we do hear they plan to throw more keg parties than ever this spring.

One of the rules during pledge week for sorority Kappa Kappa Gamma was that no pledge could look another member of the sorority in the eye on campus or acknowledge pledges of other sororities.

Rumor has it one freshman recruit for KKG forgot to wear sunglasses on the bridge and accidentally waved to someone she thought was her RA. It wasn't her RA—it was the Member Chair of KKG. She received a note in her mail stop later that day stating: "you made the glance, you lost the chance. You're out." Not even an extra-large Red Mango fro-yo with extra strawberries could cheer her up.

The fraternities have been taking a more competetive approach. Rather than ignoring each other on the bridge, the upperclassmen of fraternities such as Delta Phi and Kappa Sigma run up to their freshman pledges and whack them with lacrosse wands or trip them with their hockey sticks.

Pledges interested in joining the lacrosse players' fraternity were forced to bring their sticks everywhere they went; they attached leashes to them and used them to take notes in class, used them like a bindlestiff to carry their books; and if a girl approached them, would place their lacrosse sticks between them gaze into the mesh net of their sticks while saying, "Sorry, I'm taken."

Though none of this is terribly far-fetched, you catch my drift. None of this happened. But imagine if it did.

Imagine a world at Loyola where the already egotistical sports players and brand-occupied girls walked on the stone decorated campus feeling an even stronger power because they were part of Greek life.

The other night, I was finally next in line after a long wait for a bar bathroom. I was approached by a girl who, with arms folded, gave me the death stare and said, "I'm a senior."

All I said back to her was "Cool. I'm a junior…"

Though I would have loved to grab a lacrosse stick and whack her or trip her with a hockey stick like my fellow frat-bro's would do, I held back and let her take her pride and pee into the beer-soaked seatless toilet.

That night, all I could really think was how grateful I was to St. Ignatius for keeping Loyola grounded as a truly Jesuit institution. Even though there might be a certain divide between grades at Loyola, it doesn't come close to the segregation schools with Greek life experience. Loyola may have a hierarchy of sorts, but if we can live without the abundance of theme parties and deal with having at least '80s night and a hoedown or two, I'm content with the nonexistence of Greek life.

New zodiac signs don’t change what the stars have in store

A few weeks ago, news spread that the original zodiac sign you've grown up to believe in may, in fact, be false. Astronomers have proven that the stars alignment with the earth has shifted, causing Zodiac signs to move back a month. As easily as we can believe that our daily horoscope truthfully predicts the future, we can freak out because we've been living a lie up until this moment.

I was born on June 18; therefore I defined myself as a Gemini my entire life. When this astronomer came in and ruined it for all of us, I immediately Googled my daily and weekly horoscopes to see if I still believed my Gemini predictions were true. I wasn't ready to become a Taurus.

I pulled up the daily horoscope for Gemini and the first thing I read was "You are looking great today."

Well, thank you! I did go to the gym this morning before class and spent a few extra minutes putting together a nice outfit. I even put a little mascara on my eyelashes and adorned my ears with shiny white pearls. I continued to read that people notice my great smile—I mean, I did spend seven years in braces and had 19 teeth pulled out for this money-maker smile. So good to hear that someone is finally noticing it. Thank the stars!

The Gemini horoscope also predicted that the following day would be one of my best days this month. The stars were right again! I woke up to a PM Evergreen email informing students and faculty that school was closed due to the "inclement" weather of 2 inches of snow—the grass was still visible. I enjoyed my day eating chicken salad from the Evergreen and watching She's The Man, two of my absolute favorite things.

And then there is love. People usually skim over the beginning of their horoscopes and go immediately to the section that defines their love life. I am not going to lie—sometimes I am that girl. Apparently, my patience has been fading recently for love, but I should stay aware because someone is going to enter my life very soon.

Finally! I've been at Loyola for 5 semesters now and still haven't found the love of my life. All I want to do is be able to get married in the chapel and have my reception at Craigs. I can't wait to meet you, whoever you might be.

Now that I was up-to-date on my horoscope as I knew it to be, I decided to look into the predictions for a Taurus in case I was forced to conform my personality. Taurus made absolutely no sense to me.

It was like a ballerina trying to dance hip-hop for the first time. It was like drinking a Pepsi when Coca-Cola is all I ever knew. It didn't feel right.

The Babylonians came up with the Zodiac signs thousands of years ago. Yes, the stars have shifted. Yes, science might try and tell you that your sign has changed. But when it comes down to it, the Western Zodiac signs remain the same, as they were when the Babylonians invented the concept.

Sure, I choose to ignore all of the bad that my horoscope predicts. I also choose to ignore the fact that since the age of 13, horoscopes have been promising the encounter of the man I will marry, the business I will run, and the presidency I will experience, none of which have actually happened. I am and will forever be a Gemini, and no one can stop me to think otherwise.

Back in black and white... or green and grey

On my return back to the USA, I unfortunately fell behind in updating my blog. For one thing, I am not traveling to amazing cities in Europe every weekend. My life has gone back to that of a typical college student. However, since I still have a passion for writing and humorous writing for that matter, I decided to update my blog with my recent Opinion Articles for the Greyhound (Loyola's Newspaper).

http://www.loyolagreyhound.com/

The Last Hurrah

As I was addressing my last postcard from Paris to Justin Bieber,(who by the way hasn’t responded to ANY of my postcards…what the heck!) I realized it has been a while since I blogged.

I woke up on Thanksgiving morning just a little depressed that I wouldn’t be spending it the usual way. Usually, Chloe is snuggling in my nook until we both venture downstairs to watch the Macy’s parade. Usually, Katherine and I cuddle under warm blankets on the couch with our tea or coffee. Usually, the kitchen smells of sweet potatoes and pie soaking up flavor for the feast to come. Usually, I hear something like “RON… RON… COME OVER HERE… DID YOU PACK THE CAR YET… ROOOON.” You might know the sound.

Instead, I listened to Alice’s Restaurant alone in my room and forced myself to get dressed for school where there would be NO turkey, NO stuffing and NO pumpkin pie. After a boring lesson on European History and a group presentation in my Cultural Awareness class, it was time to go home quickly, pack my bag, and begin on my last journey of the semester: Paris.

Thanksgiving dinner consisted of a PB&J before I left my apartment and a bag of cookies on the plane. YUM!!!!!! After spending the majority of my Thanksgiving eve traveling to the lovely apartment of miss Kaela and Margaret, I was thrilled when I finally got to take a breather in their cozy abode. After I fixed my hair, powdered my nose and enjoyed some bread, wine, and cheese, it was time for my first night out in the French city. We all had a blast and danced the night away at this bar the Loyola Parisian crew had recently discovered. Kaela’s little sis Kristen probably had the most fun of us all. After enjoying the best view of the bar from Dinko’s shoulders, she almost became fluent in French! She managed to say the word ‘oui’ or ‘yes’ when answering many questions from her new French friends. As the sun creaked through the apartment window on Friday morning, I felt like Carrie Bradshaw, covered in boa feathers that miraculously were scattered around the floor, ready to conquer the city of Paris. Unlike Carrie Bradshaw, however, who would probably use the boa feathers to make some ridiculously hideous outfit and call it ‘fashion’, I decided to bundle up in jeans and a sweater.








Some other people must have been missing America a little bit because we ended up at an American diner enjoying nachos and cheeseburger for… breakfast? We then ‘hung out’ in Starbucks. After walking around the city and stopping in some vintage shops, Paris enjoyed its first snow of the season! We imagined Kaela probably peeing her pants with excitement as the white fluffy flakes fell while she was with her family on their last day in Paris. After walking around, we headed to the movie theater to see HP 7! It was spectacular. We tried to use our wizard spells and wand tricks to get us ready and out fast after the movie and it worked! After the first bar closed a little earlier than expected we moved on to a few other bars that hadn’t closed yet.

Saturday was the day I would meet the Eiffel Tower. To be honest, I didn’t think we would get along that well before I came to Paris, but when we finally shook hands (this was a little difficult) I was quite amazed by his beauty. Yes, I consider the Eiffel Tower a him because it really is breathtakingly handsome. Decorated with strong and sturdy steel, the Eiffel Tower proved to be an impressive icon. We couldn’t chat for long because apparently hundreds of people come to see him everyday. He was kind enough to let us take a few pictures and then led us on our way, ensuring we’d ‘probably see him again, even if it was from at a distance’.



He was right. I thought I wouldn’t be able to get away. For a while I was convinced he was following me, but by the time we got to the Christmas markets, he shrunk to the size of my thumb. We enjoyed some holiday cheer and splurged 10 Euro to ride the Ferris wheel. It was good company and a lovely view of the city. Later that night, we dined with the majority of the Paris crew at a delicious restaurant. After being full from my gnocchi and wine, Kaela and I headed home to chit chat and get a nights rest.




On Sunday, Kristina and I conquered the Louvre. Luck had our way and a nice man gave us his tickets as he was leaving and saved us 9.50 Euro to spend on bidding for the Mona Lisa. Apparently she’s not for sale, but seeing her smile up close and personal was pretty surreal. She’s also good at multitasking because even with 50 people standing around her, she’s able to keep eye contact with EVERY single one. No wonder they call her a masterpiece. After playing maze in the Louvre for a few hours, we walked to Notre Dame. Another French beauty I must say.
No better way to end my trip to Paris then the way it started: American food! Sunday night we munched on spicy wings and mozzarella sticks at Loyola’s favorite Canadian pub. We woke up Monday and flew back to the Dam for the last time. Tear.






Only three nights of peace and quiet until Brendan and Pat were invading Amsterdam. Mr. Ignozzi was nice enough to show them around a little on Thursday while I was suffering in class. He brought them to get some traditional Dutch food at Wok to Walk. After class, we reunited and I brought them to the Heineken Experience. After some thrilling beer drinking and good foosball fun, Pat was a little hungry for a sweet. . Full from pasta and baked goods, we called it a night.









After class on Friday morning, I cam back to the apartment and woke the boys up to get ready to go to Anne’s crib. Since Anne’s house is pretty much empty, I brought them to my favorite lunch restaurant, Singel. We devoured our oven baked flat breads and headed to the Huis. Since I have already toured the museum twice, I let them conquer this on their own. Unavoidably a little sad, we hopped back on a tram and as I headed home to finish some work, I let Brendan and Pat enjoy a few beers at the Sports Café. They came back here after, we all drank and made some toasts, met up with some other Loyola kids, and then for some reason headed out ahead of the crowd. Where did this bring us? WOK TO WALK. . We assumed Brendan must have been home or at least okay because he hadn’t bbmed us. After walking around the city and trying to follow the tram tracks home, he made it almost all the way here until he thought he was going the wrong way. He headed back toward the city center and made a pit stop in the Marriot Hotel, pretending that he was waiting for his friends to meet him there to check in. After chatting with the doormen etc. he somehow was given a warm cup of hot chocolate as he continued to lie to the generous employees of the Marriot. When they weren’t looking, he ran. Apparently slept for a little while on a random persons doormat and gave up and took a taxi home. When we asked him why he didn’t bbm us, he told us his phone was locked and the password was not his normal password, but rather the word password.




We all enjoyed a nice long sleep on Saturday. Finally around 1:30, the boys headed to see some art at the Van Gogh museum and I continued to sit in my sweats and do absolutely nothing. Jaclyn and I did make it to the grocery store around 4. We had a Taco Saturday and the weekend was winding down. After an early, miserable walk to the train on Sunday morning, I hugged the Irish folks goodbye and sent them on their way.

Time is winding down and I have 12 short days left in this country. 6 finals to go!

JB. PLEASE WRITE BACK.

5 Planes is Never Too Many

Ciao!
So my weekend in Florence turned out to be absolutely AMA but the day of travel was pretty much the day from hell.

Series of Unfortunate Events:
I woke up in the morning and I did NOT feel like P-Diddy. It was 8:30 am and I was tired. I woke up a few minutes earlier than usual to look over the notes for my presentation that I would be giving at 10:30am in Business Ethics. I was feeling pretty confident, and hoped that my Dutch and Chinese group members felt the same way when they arrived at our one building of a school. I saved the most updated Powerpoint on a flash drive and secured it safely in a zipper pocket in my purse. My backpack for Florence was all packed, passport in wallet, and all other necessary items so I could head to the airport directly from school. I couldn’t have been more prepared.
Jaclyn and I left a few minutes earlier to make sure we arrived to class spiffy and on time. This meant leaving at 9:30am instead of 9:35am which got us to our classroom by 10:20am. My two group mates and I sat anxiously in the classroom awaiting the arrival of our teacher. My flash drive gripped in hand ready to clip right into her little computer that she brings every single day to class to present us with PowerPoint’s on the projector. Out of the ten or so groups in our class, we would be the first out of everyone to present for the month.

10:30 am on the dot she enters the classroom, calls our names, and expresses she is ready for us to go. But wait – there is no computer in her hand. Did she forget it? Is it hiding under the desk? Is it wearing an invisibility cloak? No to all of the above. Apparently if we were going to use any sort of media, we should have informed her BEFOREHAND and she would have either brought her computer with her, or suggested we bring our own. Well, you never told us that miss. Blank stares are going all around and of course the rest of our classroom is unprepared as well so no one has any sort of laptop or hookup. This leads us to frantically run downstairs to the library, which is constantly crowded with Dutch students hogging the computers to check out their new mates on Facebook and we get dizzy trying to find a free computer. Finally, we find a free computer and upload our PowerPoint so we can print it since none of us actually memorized what we were going to say. The first two attachments don’t download, and finally after we are already holding the class up about 15 minutes, we find the correct document and print out the slides. I wipe the beads of sweat dripping from my brow and boldly introduce the presentation about the Toyota Recall.

I spoke loudly, I spoke clearly, I spoke English, I made eye contact, I didn’t read straight from the (printed) slides, I made the crowd laugh, and I most importantly was informative. My Dutch teammate spoke softly and read directly off the slides and my Chinese teammate spoke in slow scattered English. At the end of the presentation, our teacher graded us out loud in front of the entire class. As a group, we received a 7/10 (which is actually a decent grade in the Netherlands). She then persisted to look at each of us and let us know our personal presentation grades. She pointed to me and said I received a 7. At times I ‘spoke too fast’ and since ‘English is my first language I should speak it being aware that not everyone’s native language in the classroom is English.’

WHAT?

You teach the class IN English. We are all supposed to present IN English.

Oliver, my Chinese teammate receives an 8 for his presentation grade because he spoke slower…
…
So pretty much I was punished for speaking perfectly good English rather than inserting a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ in order to scatter my flowing natural language. I guess I should have given the presentation in Spanish and then I would have received a 10 for using improper conjugations and misusing words.

As you can tell I am bitter. I did talk to her after class but her reaction remained the same. U G H
Well, at least I was off to Florence! Right!? Just two simple short flights and I should arrive by approx. 7 p.m. and giving my lovely Christine a hug by 8.

The one smooth part of my day was getting to the airport from school. The train to the airport came right away and I was checked in with more than enough time for my 2:50pm flight! Unfortunately, my flight was delayed until 3:15, but I figured that was still more than enough time to get to Zurich for my connecting flight. Plus – the connecting flight to Florence will probably have a small delay too so I only arrive a little later to Florence.

Soon enough, it’s 3:10 and we still haven’t boarded. Only then do I realize our flight is actually delayed another HOUR until 4:15. Oy vey. For some reason, I still think everything will be fine and I’ll hop right on my plane in Zurich. Finally we take off and the flight lasts a short 40 minutes. We landed in Zurich only 15 minutes before my flight was originally supposed to take off, and I still assumed it would be delayed. After speed walking to the transfer desk in Zurich, I am unfortunately informed that I will not be able to make my flight as the original time stayed the same. Also, there are no more direct flights to Florence – AWESOME!!! As I am breathing deeply and trying not to scream at the rude lady who tells me this, I ask her in the nicest way possible: ‘well what the hell am I supposed to do?’

“Well, we can put you on a flight to Frankfurt and then from Frankfurt you can fly to Florence. “
I tell you, zig-zagging across Europe on budget planes is going to be my new hobby. I only let one measly tear get right beneath my right eye and pinched myself to grow up. I guess I was just lonely and wanted to see my friends! Luckily, the lady who actually printed out my tickets was a bit nicer and got me on an earlier flight to Frankfurt so I had more time in between my flights to have a cocktail. I sprinted down those cool moving sidewalks and was sufficiently sweating when I finally got my seat on the second plane of the night. I drank my free wine and then enjoyed a nice cocktail when I was jotting around in Frankfurt airport. Finally at 9:00, I boarded my plane to Florence. By this point I could hardly hear anything because my ears wouldn’t stop popping from the constant take-off and landing. Finally around 10:30 pm, the wheels on the plane made contact with the runway in good ol’ fashion Firenze. My Italian blood pumped a little harder and I knew I was home.

TG for a BB. (Thank God for a Black Berry) I hopped in a taxi and bbmed a few Loyola peeps to see where everyone was. The taxi dropped me off in front of a lonely door that apparently housed the hostel I was staying in. Luckily, the duomo was in clear eyesight. I threw my stuff on an empty bed, changed my travel outfit, spruced up my face, and ventured to meet a bar full of Loyola students.

Eureka!


Christine and I embraced in a long squishy hug…. I continued to catch up in some hugs and kisses with some other Loyola pals including the lovely miss Kaela Keyes! Christine was a little tired from too much hugging so went back to her home stay before the rest of us ventured on the club. Kaela and I danced the night away with the Saxophonist on the stage. As the night was winding down, I found Brendan so we could walk back to our hostel with the Jacuzzi since everyone else was staying in ‘Hotel California’ – a really classy establishment. I saw a large dome in the night sky and assumed it was the main duomo so I led Brendan in that direction insisting it was the right way to our hostel. Well, let’s just say we took a little detour. We enjoyed some early morning shopping on the ponte vecchio, did some touring of the palazzo de vecchio, and watched the fake David being moved at 5:30 am in front of the duomo.
Still a little shaky on Saturday morning from all the redbull the night before, we thought it was a great idea to climb the duomo! Success – we all made it without getting sick and got a lovely view of the city. The rest of the day consisted with a lot of walking and some more sight seeing. Saturday night was great again!

Christine, Brendan, JD, Chris and myself enjoyed some quality time at a lovely restaurant called Mamma Mia. My Gnocchi was absolutely delicious and my stomach just grumbled thinking about it. After a few glasses of vino, we moved on to the next bar to reunite with the rest of the Loyola crowd. We all enjoyed our three drinks for ten euro at Bigallo and next went to the Red Garter. Margaret is so used to taking shopping carts to the clubs in Paris so she was extra excited when she saw one on the streets of Florence! Needless to say, she arrived quickest to the bar as we all walked slowly behind the speeding four-wheeled crate.



After some popcorn wars and some good laughs, I found Brendan sitting in his reflection at Santa Croce. We missed the ponte vecchio so much that we decided to walk back and meet some of his friends. Brendan’s friends thought I was the bomb – just because I studied in Amsterdam. They persisted to claim that they were coming to visit me this weekend because they loved it so much. They haven’t contacted me yet though – maybe they’re just last minute kind of guys.
Back to sleep in the hostel by 6 am, Sunday was enjoyed by some more touring of Florence. Although most of the Loyola crowd departed the Italian city, I was there to stay for one more day! On Sunday night, Christine’s host nona Silva invited me over for a home cooked Italian meal. If you read my blog post below, you can imagine that the meal was VERY similar to those I experienced in Italy in August. I was stuffed but fully satisfied by the end of my meal. Since my hostel was now emptied out for the weekend, Christine was kind enough to stay with my on Sunday night so I wasn’t completely alone. We enjoyed an American breakfast on Monday morning before I was headed back to the Dam. After we scarfed down our bacon, egg, and cheese’s, we met Kaela and Margaret for a quick goodbye hug then sent me on my way to the airport.


This time, I actually had no delays. I made it safe and sound to Amsterdam by 7 p.m. Carpe Diem!

This weekend will be just as fun – the small apartment I live in here in Amsterdam will be crowded with 8 people. Look forward to some stories to come!

Italian Indulgences

For my online Travel Reporting class I decided to submit an article about Food and Travel. Some of you might know that I spent some time in Italy before I arrived in Amsterdam, so if anyone is interested in my experiences with food, here is my story!


Italian Indulgences

As the plane accelerated down the runway on its way to take-off for Genoa, Italy, the only thing stuck in my mind was the results I ‘Googled’ about the city before traveling. The culinary specialty of the city of Genoa, known is Genova to Italians, is pesto. Pesto, which is a mixture of basil, garlic, and olive oil, is one of my all time favorite additions to any pasta, sandwich, or salad. My trip to Italy would in no way, shape, or form be the beginning of my ‘diet’ and ‘eating healthy’ phase. I knew that most Italian cities are revolved around food, but the amount of bread, cheese, and pasta that I was about to consume during this 10-day expedition was incomprehensible. As a pure bred Italian, I knew that staying with my friend Jaclyn’s Italian family meant not only getting in touch with my roots, but getting in touch with endless courses of food.

As we exited the plane and collected our baggage, we entered the small one terminal airport in Genoa to wait for Jaclyn’s cousins to pick us up from the airport. It had been almost 10 years since Jaclyn last saw them so she was worried she might not recognize them and vice versa. I assured her not to worry because it is kind of hard to forget her bright red banana curly hair. Sure enough, moments later a short Italian man with glasses – Paulo – and a slightly taller one with aviators tucked in his button down – Maximiliano – approaches us and yelled out “JACLYN” in a cheerful Italian accent. After some cheek kisses and introductions, the next five questions were: Have you eaten? Are you hungry? When was the last meal you had? Did they feed you on the plane? Do you want to have some dinner? Truthfully, we were both very hungry and accepted their offer for dinner.

Although Paolo and Maximiliano were fluent in their English expressions regarding food, the car ride to the restaurant at the beach club was a little more painful because some of their English was scattered and hard to understand. Once we arrived to the restaurant at around midnight, everyone was greeted with a glass of white wine and a large basket of bread.

“What do you like eat? Meat? Seafood? Pasta? What you like?”

Personally, my taste buds are quite extensive and I enjoy most foods, but since we were dining on the sea with the sound of crashing waves in the background, Jaclyn and I agreed on seafood. When we expressed our decision for the meal, we figured we’d each be given one dish of whatever the catch of the day was and call it a night. This, however, was not the case. The amount of different seafood dishes that were delivered to the table that night was too high to keep count of. The waitress first brought several dishes to the table that I recognized. These dishes included Seafood Paella, Mussels, Clams, Calamari, and Salmon. To say I was full after these dishes was an understatement. Even though each dish was served family style, if I didn’t put a significant amount on my dish, it was almost seen as an insult.

“Try this! It’s good! Eat this! Try that one!”

I let out a sigh, sat back in my chair, and rested my hands on my stomach thinking the food had stopped coming. I was wrong. Seconds later the waitress returned with about 8 more steaming dishes. This time I didn’t recognize all of the dishes. Some were served in clamshells, others I was informed were octopus or maybe even fish eggs. Needless to say, my willingness to try things really came in handy. Each dish ended up being tastier than the one before it, even if it was in fact some unknown seafood that I don’t regularly consume. After a few bites of dessert, it was finally acceptable to be stuffed.

Welcome to Italy, I thought.

How my stomach would handle 10 days of overeating, I was unsure of. The test would come two days later for our next extravagant meal. Since our first Italian dinner experience was enjoyed at a restaurant, it was time for a real cultural encounter by dining in an Italian home. Christina, Jaclyn’s older cousin, was kind enough to have us over for dinner. My stereotype of typical home cooked Italian meals was confirmed after this meal.

After a little attempted small talk in forced English with Christina’s husband, daughter, and Jaclyn’s cousin Paulo, it was time to sit for dinner. After the dinner a few nights earlier, my stomach was a little more prepared to stretch out and I felt completely ready to conquer the food that was about to be placed in front of me.

We sat down at the table, decorated with a plastic tablecloth, and pushed our wooden chairs closer to initiate that we were ready to dig in. A variety of drinks were out on the table, including red wine, Fanta, water, and Coca Cola. Settling with water, I took a large gulp to clear my taste buds and prepare for the flavors that were about to come. First came the bread. This was no ordinary bread, however, it was a delicious loaf of fresh baked oily Focaccia. Unfortunately, growing up I have never been able to resist the bread at dinner. My impulses always overcome me and I devoured two pieces of the bread quickly, leaving oily stains on my fingers and napkin. I pinched myself for letting my hunger get to me because I knew in about 20 minutes, I’d have wished I left that room in my stomach for something I would be nearly forced to eat.

Next course: Salad. In the center of the table was a simple mixed green salad with onions and tomatoes. In addition to this salad, each person was served their own personal plate of Mozzarella, Tomato, and Basil salad with oil and vinegar drizzled over the fresh ingredients. I’ve tasted fresh Caprese salads at home, but the moist mozzarella and ripe tomatoes that I was indulging in were so delicious that my plate was wiped clean in a matter of two minutes. Within the same time period, everyone else’s dishes were clean as well. As the woman of the house, Christina was constantly up out of her seat clearing dishes and cleaning in preparation for the next course. When Jaclyn and I offered to help her, she immediately denied our request and enjoyed the role she most likely took on every day of her life.

A minute later, bowls of steaming pasta were all placed in front of us. I couldn’t help but notice the pasta maker on the kitchen counter that I later learned was in fact used to make all of the pasta they consume at home. The homemade pasta we were about to enjoy is exactly what I had been waiting for – Pesto Pasta! The colorful green and yellow cheese tortellini pasta was drizzled in delicious olive color pesto that smelled just as good as it tasted. The pasta was cooked just right and the flavor of the pasta went together perfectly with Genoa’s own pesto sauce.

Just starting to feel full, I knew I had to keep trucking. Drum roll for the next course that is truly everything that an Italian meal stands for: Prosciutto and Melon. The melon was cut in perfect crescent moon shaped slices projecting a crisp orange color of ripeness. A plate of thin slices of prosciutto was passed around, followed by the plate of melon. I have never actually attempted to eat this traditional course, so I was a little nervous and observed the others on how exactly they cut the melon and meat and put them together on the fork. The prosciutto was a little difficult to cut but once I got a decent sized piece, I forked it with a nice square of melon. My tongue was a little confused when experiencing the mixture of savory and fruity flavors. The textures of the meat and fruit are also quite different so it was an interesting chew. Although this wasn’t my favorite part of the meal, per se, I did my best to consume an acceptable amount. Making up the excuse that I was a vegetarian would not have helped either because how could you be a true Italian and not eat meat?

The meal was finally winding down and it was time for something… or some things sweet. The first dessert course was a bowl of cut up peaches drenched in sugar and sweet liquor. The crunchiness of the sugar and smoothness of the peaches was exactly what I needed to sweeten my stomach. Once the big bowl of fruit was devoured, it was clearly time for gelato. How could you not enjoy the creamy ice after a long Italian meal? Presented with four flavors, my palate decided on the two chocolaty flavors rather than the fruity flavors. Of course Christina tried to serve me the fruity flavors after the chocolaty ones, insisting I needed to try them all, but I politely refused and told her my stomach couldn’t handle any more.

After coffee, which in Italy is actually equivalent to a thimble full of espresso, I could hardly move. We sat around for a while at the table and my brain hurt from trying to comprehend all of the Italian phrases that were going back and forth. The night was aging and eventually Jaclyn and I said goodnight and headed back to where we were staying. On the car ride back, I was suffering a few stomach pains but all I could think about was how deliciously cultural our meal was.

Over the next week or so of our time in Italy, there were several other meals just as fully loaded. The wine, pasta, bread, and pizza may have made my pants and shirts a little tighter than usual for a while, but the experience of true Italian food is a weight that will stay.

Beef Stew for Breakfast?

A wise man once said: “Snap back to reality, oh there goes gravity.” Unfortunately today when I boarded my 6:10 AM flight from Cork to Amsterdam, Eminem’s poetic words popped into my head. After traveling for 18 straight days, returning to Amsterdam for a quick lunch break and recess time, then heading to Cork for a long weekend, my weary eyes almost shed tears when I looked at my to do list. I zombied through Schipol Airport and made my way back to my apartment only to realize I could only go back to bed for 20 minutes until I had to make the 50 minute commute to school to meet for a group project which would be followed by an hour and a half of Dutch nonsense. I’ve been sitting in Dutch class for almost three months now and still can only say ‘Hallo, war ja me drinken?’ (Hello, are you coming drinking?)

Turning behind the clock a little (which we all recently had to do), I’ll go back to a few of my trips for a quick overview.

Barcelona! I couldn’t have had a better weekend with three of my best friends from home. Taylor and Kacie who have the luck and joy of studying in Barcelona, were great hosts to Christine and I who crashed in their residencia for the weekend. We had our touristy fun and went to the bar Chupitos where you can enjoy 2 euro shots of all shapes and sizes. In a previous blog post I expressed that shots on fire weren’t exactly my thing, but after drinking multiple Harry Potter shots which were steaming hot, I might have changed my mind a little. As these shots were lit on fire, I couldn’t help but think of my favorite scene from the movie Cast Away. “LOOK WHAT I HAVE CREATED! I HAVE MADE FIRE!”

We enjoyed the club scene at Opium and Raz Ma Taz – some of my dance moves were stellar and it must have been all the smoke in the air. Well, I thought they were stellar until the friends of my friends made a comment along the lines of “your friends are crazy.” My Lady GaGa robot moves apparently just didn’t cut it. Oh well, I had fun and GaGa would approve. Christine only took two quick cat naps – one standing up in the street, and one in the cab on the way to the club. A real trooper. Things I learned in Barcelona: Gaudi is a true mastermind, not 1, not 2, but 3 showers might take the smell of smoke out of your hair, and I’m swift because I didn’t get pick pocketed.

Budapest and Vienna! We were off to a great start when Kristina showed up just on time for our flight and Mara full out MISSED it. Nice. Stayed in a cold hostel the first night, woke up shivering and Kristina and I went out for a little touring. After a nice trip to the indoor market and a climb up to the Citadel, we headed back on time to meet a phoneless Mara at the metro station. SHE MADE IT! We lugged our suitcases to the next hostel of choice, which turned out to be cozier than the first. Mara thought it was cute to wear matching gloves and a matching dress – she failed to realize, however, that she looked like a huge tool. I had my fun. I also made fun of Mara and Kristina for ordering the most touristy thing on the menu at a Hungarian restaurant: Mozzerella and Tomato Salad. However, the fun was poked back at me when we realized I woke up… and had beef stew. That night, we trained to Vienna and were relieved and tired when we found our 3^rd hostel of the trip. This time, I woke up and had weiner schnitzel. I am really trying to get the full taste of all of the cities I visit. You’re all probably thinking I should start switching to salads after those hefty meals.

After our quick trip to Vienna we ventured back to Budapest 2 nights later to stay in our 4^th hostel. This one was the coziest. The best part of our last few days in Budapest: The Baths. Kristina, Mara and I all enjoyed a nice hot thermal bath at one of the most popular bath houses in Budapest. It was outdoors, so you’re feet froze on the walk to the water, but once you slid in the massive hot tub, it was like heaven. The worst part of our trip: sitting in a coffee shop realizing that Loyola did not register me for classes when they should have. I was furious and proceeded to send a nasty email to our abroad coordinator only to receive a ‘You Got PWNED’ email back with the attachment of the wrong waiver I filled out. Oops. I made Mara and Kristina speed walk back to the hostel with me and I frantically registered myself for classes. In the end, I was able to register for 4/5 of my originals! Hip Hip Hooray!

Ireland! On Friday night I was greeted in lovely cork by my friends Madeleine, Brendan, Colleen, and Bridgid! Mad made the trip all the way from Firenze just to be in Ireland for a short trip, but well worth it. Since the night was upon us, we went to the girl’s room for a fun pregame including lots a Bulmers. We walked to the pub under the Irish sky and cool Cork breeze. Madeleine ordered a Guinness and I think she actually agreed with Brendan’s description of it tasting like “chocolate mElk”. After Colleen and Brendan danced with themselves in the mirror for a while, we proceeded to a club down the street. After a successful night of dancing, we headed on home to merely take a nap because the rooster (aka Mad) woke B and I up around 9 am. “WAKE UP TOE! WE GOTTA GO MAKE OUT WITH THAT STONE!” Ambitious. After we hit snooze for an hour, we made our way to the bus to venture to the Blarney Castle. We hiked our way to the top and leaned back to give the Blarney Stone a nice peck. The ladies in front of us wanted to give it a little more than a peck… but either way we all received our eloquence.

The three of us explored the castles ground and discovered some interesting caves and witches kitchens. Mad and B attempted to climb a rock we thought resembled Pride Rock but unfortunately Brendan’s Sperry’s were run down of their grip. Later on, a group of us ventured to Kinsale, a lovely port town where we enjoyed a delicious meal. This time I avoided the beef stew or schnitzel and enjoyed some fresh white fish. YUM. After an attempt at a cat nap on the bus on the way back to Cork, we began the festivities for another night out. I had the fortunate opportunity to meet Mr. Patty G’s parents and we shared a Banana tasting beer together. After parting ways with the Ginley’s, Mad, Pat, B and I met up with everyone else. Pat enjoyed a nice seat on the stage for the night while Mad and I danced away. I tried to teach Kara how to get low, but B and I are apparently the masters. After some Burritos on the walk back, it was time for bed. Mad woke up bright and early to head out on her 24-hour adventure back to Florence while the rest of us enjoyed a nice sleep. Sunday was movie night! We all laughed our asses off as we attended Jackass 3D. Some good craic (fun, as I learned from Brendan). By Monday, I was almost a part of the Cork family. I checked out the UCC campus and even did a little work in the library! Impressive! Later on, I was invited to have dinner with Father Linane, the President of Loyola, and the other 20 somewhat students studying at Cork. Although I felt like an intruder, it was quite luxurious to enjoy a gourmet meal at a fancy hotel restaurant on the tab of Loyola, especially since the Amsterdam program doesn’t do anything for us. I’m now running off… zero hours of sleep so that’s all for now, Folks.

Eight billion famous paintings later...

After two and a half long months, I finally got to see my family! Mom and Dad came to good old Amsterdam for two days and were able to do pretty much EVERY touristy thing possible. So congrats to them for conquering the city in 48 hours. Among the many things they did, I was able to come to the Van Gogh museum and Rijksmusuem with them, and of course take some pictures with the I Amsterdam sign and wooden clogs. No surprise that about 3 of our meals ended up at Italian restaurants. Oops. Unless you want to eat stroopwafels and French Fries and weed cakes as your main dishes, there aren’t many huge Dutch specialties that are a shame to miss out on.



“You sound like you’re from LONDON!” Only said it out loud to myself a few times… I FINALLY got to see my lovely sister Katherine after 13 months of separation! I actually cried when I saw her. Three tears later we were already arguing about who could have the Jeep in January. Needless to say, it’s still great having a sister a little closer in the world and easier to talk to. No more sailing around… at least for a little while.


Name every possible tourist attraction in London, and we were there. Tower of London, Tate Modern, National Gallery, Big Ben, St. Paul’s Cathedral, London Eye, Westminster Abbey, British Museum, Buckingham Palace, Harrods, etc. In addition to seeing everything in London, we also took a day trip to the ‘country’ to Oxford University, Duke Marlborough’s palace, and the Cotswold Villages. And the greatest surprise was the fact that the dining hall used in the Harry Potter movies is actually in Christ Church at Oxford University. Although special effects make it look bigger and add magic to it, seeing the real thing was just as splendiferous. Our driver for the day, Keith, gave us some interesting facts about London.

Top of St. Pauls!

Harry Potter!

Freak.

1. Why do they drive on the left side of the road? WELL, back in the day, there was a lot of traffic on London Bridge. (Traffic as in people walking and people horseback riding). Some of you may have heard the song ‘London Bridge is falling down, falling dow….’ Well, in order to keep the traffic flow moving they decided to put the pedestrians on the far left of the street so the travelers on horseback could use the whips in their right hands and not have to worry about accidentally whipping an innocent pedestrian. Hence, the flow of traffic is on the left side of the street. The escalators in the metro stations still all say ‘Keep Right’ so I guess people stopped using the whipping excuse at some point. . .
2. A taxi driver is actually a really prestigious job in London. You have to go through 3 – 5 years of training around on a motorbike with this huge map in front of you. If you get into ANY taxi in London, they will 100% know exactly where to take you. They can also probably tell you every left and right turn you have to make and on what streets before you even start driving. Ever heard of GPS??


Some of the artwork I have been able to see over the past week has been absolutely incredible. Besides Van Gogh and Rembrandt, I got to see MORE Van Gogh in London, some Monet, Jackson Pollock, Greco, Diego Valasquez, Renoir, etc. Also had the privilege to see the Rosetta Stone. Yes it’s just a stone, but it has a lot of history and is the roots to written language, plus I wrote a paper on it circa 6th grade so I thought it rocked. Ha ha. Get it.


The fam had an interesting end to our London trip. As we were walking back from the changing of the guards, my mom spotted a small crowd of about 9 teenage girls and 2 paparazzi men outside of a fancy hotel. “Well, there must be SOMEONE here.” Sure enough, Taylor Swift! OHHH EMMM GEEE!!! Sorry to excite you, but sad ending first, we could only wait 45 minutes until we all had to make our way to our separate airports. Unfortunately miss perfectly crimped blonde hair country star must have been composing some songs about warewolves and ex-boyfriends in the shower of her hotel room because she didn’t leave in the span we were there. The poor girls had been waiting out there since 8 am!



I have now parted with the family and actually missing them a bit already. They DIDN’T bring Chloe. Ugh. I got into Madrid last night and partied with Jaclyn and her friends here – lots of fun! We enjoyed our usual Starbucks date in Manhasset all the way in Madrid. Today I did a little solo touring and made my way around the El Museo De Prado which is HUGE. I could have stayed there for another ten hours if I wanted. I don’t know who endlessly studied the painting ‘Las Meninas’ in Elementary School, High School, or College, but it was actually incredible to see it in person. I kind of followed this small American tour around to hear a few things the guide had to say in English.



I continue my Spain adventure tomorrow as I train along to Barcelona only to be reunited with some of my other Manhasset buds! Taylor, Kacie, and the one and only Weenie Marie Samela who is trekking from Florence. I’ll spare the nostalgia, but I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have so many friends literally all over the world right now. Shout out to my girl GAFF all the way in Wes (lyan in CT). I’m going to Barcelona and I know you miss it so much and I’m totally wishing I had all your “so barca” items with me. I guess I’ll never be as Spanish as you.

Hugs and kisses.