The Last Blog Written in Nice :(

Ok, folks. Time here is winding down. You never know when the last blog may suddenly appear. In fact, it may be here right now. So you better enjoy it until the very last drop.

Shrek
So I am showing my French Fries Shrek partly because I want them to relax and chill before the end of the year, but mostly because I want to relax and chill before the end of the year. In fact, I am in one of my classes right now while they are watching the movie, and I am creating a blog. Brilliant. Sooo worth the 9 euros.

Alix’s Indian Good-bye
Alix decided that for her last night she wanted to go to the same Indian restaurant that we went to on my birthday, called Delhi Belhi. I was all for it, always being up for some Indian food, and so we headed out with nothing but nostalgic stories and our appetites. When we got there we decided to order a bottle of wine, which would prove to be a brilliant idea in time.

I got my same delicious spicy chicken thingamajig as I had for my birthday. It was realllly spicy, as promised. We also got some rice with fruit pieces in it…it was definitely interesting. By the time I was finished with my food I was already feeling quite good, and it was the first time I had ever seen Alix ‘feeling good’ if you know what I mean. If not, then frankly stated, feeling good = buzzed on the way to drunkenness. But we were so happy and giggly. We laughed our way through dessert because our dessert was very inappropriately named ‘barfi’. The people sitting next to us were also really funny, because they kept staring at us and making comments like ‘our food is so good, how is yours.’ Ok, not funny, just creepy.

As we were taking our red wine-filled lightheadedness out the door, the owner of the restaurant offered us two containers of the dip that they put on the table. He must have noticed our keenness for the dips, or just noticed that we were acting like we hadn’t eaten in months. Either way, it turned out that this company based in England bought his recipes for their dips, and he had butt loads of boxes of it, so he said he was giving it to his customers. I thought this was very kind, but once again, super funny….it struck me as even more funny when we got to Ma Nolan’s and I had to put my jars of Indian Dip on the bar to take out my money.

My Night Out With the French
There is this town not too far from Nice called Juan les Pins. Sapna had always told me it holds an awesome reputation as a place to go out at night, and so we decided we would go all the time when the warm weather came. In the end, we didn’t go all the time as we wanted to, but we did make it out there the Thursday before Sapna went home (which I still haven’t forgiven her for, by the way). Anyway, we went to this place which was interested because it is only open on Thursdays and it’s only open until 1 AM, instead of the usual 2. It has in indoor dancefloor, and an outside terrace area, and it was pretty cool all around.

Well at one point, we went outside for a little breather and this French guy, Tony, started talking to me. I think it was one of those deals again where his friend was talking to Sapna, so it is just convenient to talk to me. Which is neither here nor there. Anyway, we talked for awhile, and that was that…nothing to write home about (which is interesting, because I am seemingly doing just that).

This story takes a turn for the interesting the night before Alix left, though, because we went to Ma Nolan’s, and this guy comes up to us and offers us Champagne and asked us to join him and his friend at their table to talk for awhile. He tells me he knows me from somewhere, and I say the same of him, but we decided that we both go out enough in Nice that we probably exchanged words at one time or another. So we just talk about stuff, and then the topic of Juan les Pins comes up…et voilà! I realized that he was the guy I talked to at that bar. It was one of those ‘It’s a small world’ revelations. But he seemed to have a keen interest towards Alix, but she was leaving the next day, so in an effort to keep in touch with one of us, we exchanged information.

About a week later, he invited me to dinner with him and his friends, and I declined, but said I would join them for a glass of wine or something afterwards, to which he agreed. It took all of the strength I had to meet them and not stay in bed watching My So Called Life, but I did and it turned out to be a really good time, actually. We went to this swanky bar/club called Ôdace, where one of his friends had family working there. And there was this really nice chick from Paris who was intrigued by the fact that I didn’t smoke.

Anyway, we hit up the dance floor, and that’s where I learned two things.

1) Tony is a BAD dancer. I will try to describe his moves. Stand in one spot, but shake the hell out of your knees and thighs, and maybe ankles. Then point your fingers in different directions. And then, to mix things up, go up and down with the same moves, but be sure to not displace your feet. Congratulations! You are doing the Tony.

2) He and his friends thought my name was Dani. And I had/(and still) have no desire to correct this. I don’t know why, but I find it brilliantly amusing. Like I am the only appreciating my inside joke for one.

And that was that. I think I may head to Juan again with him on Thursday so I could show Angelique what it’s like, but we will see… (Addendum: that was a big no on the Juan thing)

The Russian/American Invasion
One day last week, I headed out with Elena (the ex-roommate of Sapna), and her best friend who just came to town from Russia. We started going to our usual Wayne’s, but like usual on a Thursday night, it was insanely packed with people, and people that were insanely drunk. So we tried the place next door, called Master Home. It was actually one of the first places I ever went out to with Sapna and Angelique, and I remember distinctly thinking it was so European because we were rocking out on the tables to It’s Raining Men. Since then, I think I went back once, and it was ok, but nothing special.

This time, however, was so much fun. As many of you know, I am a lover of all music that can be constituted as oldies…80’s, 70’s, 60’s, 50’s…LOVE IT. And this bar played so many random oldies. When I got there they were playing Toto. How many bars can you go to and dance to Toto?? Later on the DJ was mixing some George Michaels with some Prince…loved it. Then a little later there was some Gladys Knight mixed with Aretha Franklin, followed by I Will Survive. Such good stuff. And we were the only ones dancing for a good portion of the night, making it all the more enjoyable, because somehow I have come to greatly appreciate the condescending looks of the people here who are too ‘cool’ to dance. So that was that. A good Thursday night with a couple of Russians. Gotta love it.

La Fête de la Musique
Apparently, each year in all of France, on June 21^st, there exists a Music Festival. Basically all over Nice there were a bunch of performances/concerts/DJ’s set up and all the places were free to go to and the shows were all free to watch. A really great concept. It was a really good time, as well, but the crowds on the streets grew to be a little unbearable, but also fun at the same time, because as we were walking down the Promenade des Anglais, people were just moving slowly but rocking to the beat. So it was like a walking dancing fest.

Someone that I was with, however, got a little too drunky drunk, and so that cut the festivities short, but I still made my way back to Ma Nolan’s where I chilled whilst watching the musical stylings of Merla, who I am going to sooo miss. Speaking of which, on my birthday, Sapna and I went to Ma Nolan’s as well (which you may recall from my amazing blog), and some film students were shooting a music video for Merla, and my crazy tipsy (that’s me doing the opposite of exaggerating for a change) dancing self can be seen for like a second in the video. I am a superstar.

So that was basically the music festival…music, wine, food, good times.

La Fête du Château
So this is absolutely the month of festivals. And this Sunday, we entered the festival zone of the Castle that overlooks the downtown Nice area. I had only been there once, I think my second day, so I got to see it, and I also go to see it in all of its festival glory. This festival was more about the food and the merchandise, but there were also some bands playing, and when it got dark there were even some fireworks…which I absolutely love. It was a chill day at the Festival, just walking around and checking out the scene, and afterwards we closed the night with another stint at Ma Nolan’s. Problem though. The following equation holds true…Dehydrated Dina + Good Amount of Kir = BADNESS. Thus, the evening and the following day did not prove to be as chill and groovy as the former one.

La Fête du Cinéma
I didn’t really partake to heavily in this festival, but I think it is a really cool concept so I am going to share it with you now. In France they have a movie festival for a couple days, and the deal is you go to one movie at regular price, but then you receive this ‘passport’ which you can use in any theater and see all the movies you want for only 2 euros a film. A pretty sweet deal. That is when you don’t have to work and miss your opportunities to see films the next day. But Angelique and I went to see Ocean’s 13, and it’s always fun to go to the movies in France for me, for some reason. I think it’s because here the activity is still somewhat novel versus in the United States where I go much more often. And the movie was good, and I got some more Angelique time in (who is leaving in the morning), so it was just all around goodness (except for the residual side effects of the night before Kirfest, midmovie.)

Getting My Stuff Packed
So, I am getting ready to leave. A little stressful with the packing and the cleaning and the formalities, but I think it’s going ok. I am going to go out with Angelique for a little goodbye dinner which I am calling both of ours, spending as much time as possible with my favorite people, and then hopefully going out at least one more time before I head back to the dirty Jerz. I can’t wait to see you Jersey peeps. And I can’t wait for take-out Chinese from the place ‘round the corner. And the bagels. And sushi. And now I am sad to learn what a fatty I am. Can’t wait to see you, though.

And here I will close by saying that I am pretty sure this is actually my last Nice blog. I can’t believe the time is already here to return home. I feel like I just wrote my first blog like a month ago. I appreciate all of you who read my blogs, and I really really appreciate all the kind words some of you have expressed about my writings.

I will be seeing most of you soon, anyway, so it’s not like the blog will be lost…it will just take on the form of my verbal ramblings. And you will love it. Yes, you will….and you never know, I may even surprise you with one more…

Thank you again,
XOXO
Dina

Year in Review. Or just 9 months.

So, as many of you are aware (and if you are not, I am impressed with your filtering capabilities) I have kept a blog detailing the crazy accounts of my stay here in Nice, France. My time here is quickly running out, to which I feel mixed emotions. I’m quite excited to see my family, friends, and ex-familiar settings at home, but I am also leaving behind some amazing things…the Beach, some great people, the gelato, the lazy lifestyle (although this is TYBD). I have been really lucky to have been able to take this opportunity, and as people constanly ask me these days “Would you do it again?”. I would, absolutely, do it all over again, but maybe while changing a small aspect here and there.

Anyway, I hope to put one more real blog out there (at least), but I also felt some sort of random blog was necessary. I giggle realizing that every blog entry was random. But this is not so much a compilation as a public critique on what I had to offer through the months for you fine folks. I am going to quote what I received in e-mails and messages, and add my own charming editor’s comments where I see fit J.

Enjoy…

From: Tibi, the father of the Niçoise.

“I loved to read your detailed first day recount. I hope you make a habit out of this and will continue to delight us daily (or at least close to daily) with the lively and amusing personal reportage from Nice.”

Editor’s Note:
I hope you’re happy. Look what you made me go and do ;)

From: Jason from Jersey whom I met in Nice

“I've seen a few of my friends who have come back from Europe already and they all have amazing tans. It seems you don't have the same luck...”

Editor’s Note:
After an initial ‘shut the hell up,” I take a deep breath and make a realization:  

1) Back in the 1800’s pale was beautiful.  And I am a retro kind of girl.
2) I still have more than 2 weeks of beach going opportunities…don’t judge me yet.

From: Dan, our Brussels Chaperone of sorts

“i read the whole thing this time.”

Editor’s Note:
Damn straight.

From: Angel in Chicago, my Tulane Suitemate who danced with me randomly in our rooms.

“Hi Dina!!!!!!!!

I'm sneaking on at work to read your emails :o !”

Editor’s Note:
Thanks Angel!! I knew you had good taste!

From: Robert in Boston, one of my great cousins.

“I’m so delighted to be added to your blog. It was a great read! Your writing is entertaining and energetic — and I loved seeing the pictures.”

Editor’s Note:

The pleasure is mine J. But I apologize to all those random e-mails I added to people not wanting to receive said blogs…but that’s what the filter option is for.

From: The other Dan from Jersey, who owes me platinum jewelry.

“i'm gonna read your e-mail, i need my weekly dose of heavy sarcasm”

Editor’s Note:
Man, I wish the French appreciated sarcasm more.

From: Tommy in PA. With incredible insight…

“haha you are hysterical...I'm in the middle of a miserable 11 hour workday,
and that email definitely just made my night....might have ruined my appetite a lil,
but made my night nonetheless.”

 Editor’s Note:
That was in reference to the cow brains blog.  I do not apologize for it. But thanks for the compliment.  Definitely makes me smile J.

From: David in NJ, the brother who tried to convince me I was adopted when I was younger.

“You're a damn good writer.”

Editor’s Note:
I must have gotten those skills from my biological parents, whomever they may be ;). Thanks for the praise there, brother!

From: Jerry in Jersey, whom inspired the expediting of many a blog.

“And officially, thanks for sending the e-mails. Love every one of them.”

----

“I refuse to write you an email back in protest. It’s exactly what you would want me to do.”

Editor’s Note:
Thank you for the constant affirmations. They were always much appreciated. And as for the second comment…you’ve been working with my mom too long, cause you already know her daughter so well!

From: Chris in Florida, who should come back to Jersey soon!

“Haha, you used 'subpar' twice in one post! You know I have that phrase copyrighted you know? That'll be $500 USD please =)”

Editor’s Note:
While I admit, I did double my usage of the word after having heard you use it when we first met, I refuse to accept your copyright claims. $ 500 USD is only like 5 euros, anyway. Won’t get you far here.

From: Drew in NJ, who got me hooked on the Office.

“holy cow dina, i want my 45 minutes back!!”

Editor’s Note:
I am aware that some of my blogs are quite long, but when the muses are calling, you can’t cut them off. You know?

From: Ian in NJ, who likes to claim to have been the inventor of every phrase, idea, and notion.

“These emails make me think of when I used to send some out at the beginning of my freshman year :)”

Editor’s Note:
Of course they do J. Just kidding. I really enjoyed those e-mails. You should send them to me again!

And while I can’t seem to find any good quotes from my mom (I’m guessing they’re in messengers and not e-mails), I have to say she was the biggest inspiration for my blogs. Her constant nagging and insistence really got me typing away. But I definitely also received the most praise from her…I would imagine it would go like this:

From: Sarah in NJ, the epitome of the Jewish Mommy

“You’re the best friggin’ daughter/writer/gene carrier a mother could ask for! Now sit your butt down and produce us a blog!”

Editor’s Note:
Thanks mom! You’re the best!

So that's what I have for you now, folks. I hope you enjoy.

See you soon!
XOXO

Hustles in Brussels. The really late blog.

Hello everyone! My time here is winding down, which is absolutely crazy to realize. I can’t believe I have been here for over 8 months. It’s nuts. Anyway, I’m sorry for the awful delay in the blog, but I have been lacking motivation to do much more than sitting around and being lazy during the day, and going out at night. But, here it is. I hope you enjoy!

Cannes Film Festival
Last Wednesday, the day before my adventure to Brussels would commence, my roommate and I took a trip to Cannes to see what it would be like. She had already been there back in the day, so she knew all the inside information, like where to stand and all that…little did that help us ultimately, though, because when we got there hordes of people were already there hungry for some celeb action. It was pretty nuts, though. Right in front of us was the red carpet and photograpeher, aka paparazzi, looking for that fabulous shot.

The celebs started showing up, and to be honest, I had no idea who they were. The only reason I knew they were famous was by A) the way they walked around in the way anyone who deems himself important walks, B) The reeeaaallllyyy annoying people in front of us screaming ‘(insert French celebrity name here) S’il Vous Plait !!!’

I have to be honest, though. It was cool to see, but it wasn’t as mindblowing as I expected. The famous people were not that beautiful at all, and they just appeared human. Moreso than I expected, I suppose. Which means one of two thing…A) I have a mature view on the hierarchy of man B) My self-esteem has really begun to soar . You can be the judge J.

Belgium
Sooooo…as some of you know, I recently took a trip to Belgium to meet up with Megan and her family. I twas such a good time. I don’t even know if I can write a whole blog on it for fear of peeing in my pants from laughing to hard, or for fear of looking creepy while I pee in my pants from laughing at work. But I will risk it, just for you fine folks…

Day 1
Well a funny thing happened in the planning process for Belgium. And not like funny hah ha. Not even funny ironic. Ok, so not funny at all. But Megan told me the date that she was going to definitely arrive in Brussels. A few hours later, after my ticket had just been bought, that definitely became something more of a rough guideline for when she would be flying in. She tried to help me change the ticket, but it would have been much more expensive, so I made a bold move to go in and spend the day with myself. Which was what I did.

I landed in Brussels ? and it was quite weird having nowhere to have to meet someone, or something even. I could do what I wanted as I wanted. So I opted to search for my hostel by foot, after figuring out which train to take in. But to no avail…so after bargaining with the cab driver (I am absolutely hoing my bargaining skills), I checked in and headed out to this area promising to deliver 6 museums in a small radius. I was thinking of going to the art museum, but after my third time getting lost on the way, I decided it is not worth all that trouble for an art museum ahich I can find anywhere. So instead I found the Museum of Musical Instruments, which I figured was unique enough, and headed inside. It turned out to be pretty cool. Upon entering, you are given headphones so that when you stand in front of an instrument exhibit, the instrument sound is played on the headphones. It was so much better than in Florence when poor Matt had to hear me create the sounds I thought each instrument should produce. Way better.

Afterwards, I got myself some falaffal in honor of Sapna annd made my way back to the hostel which passes a street with lots of shopping opportunities on it. While I could resist many urges to shop, I had to succumb to the H&M. It was calling to me. Literally. In my mind. I did a little shopping there, and then I went into a chocolate shop. That was quite the little qdventure in and of itself. They guy working there was quite nice, and he kept giving me free chocolate to taste (which as a formality I kept turning down until he insisted). It was quite tasty, possibly more delicious as a result of the freeness.

After getting my chocolate on, I made my way back to the hostel with the sad intention of going to bed (it was only 9 PM), but while I was retreiving my luggage, I passed teh hostel bar, which was more like a room with a beer fridge, where I met 5 Canadians…traveling in 3 separate groups. That’s a whole lot of random Canadians if you ask me.

Together we went to this Irish bar/club thing. It was ok, but I was more than ready for bed by 2, so that’s what I did. And I am glad I had to leave really early in the morning, because I was sol oud when I got back to the hostel that I didn’t want to have to face the other girls in the room the next morning.

Day 2
So after waking up at the buttcrack of dawn, I scurried to the airport to meet Megan and her family when the plane came in. All that scurrying for nothing. When I got there the plane was a few minutes delayed, but for some reason it took them a long time to come through the arrival gate, which made me nervous and sure that they had missed their flight, or ran off without me or everything bad you could possibly come up with at 8 in the morning.

Finally they arrived, and all the Megan/Dina magic was the same. We didn’t skip a beat. The crazy thing was one of Megan’s cousins didn’t know me, even though when we were growing up, I used to see him all the time. I didn’t realize how long it’s been. But anyway, after the initial meeting we got our car and made our way to the garage to retrieve said car. I was the driver, and after not having driven in 8 months, it was a little scary getting the big car out of the small lot. But I made it, to the cheers of the passengers, and off we went to Durbuy, the supposedly smallest town in the world.

Without much incident, save a near brush-in with a pole (I saw a pony off to the side in the distance), we got into Durbuy. We circled around a bit to find Victoria and Alex’s hotel (Megan’s cousins), which is where Megan’s parents were staying, as well. And where Dan kept saying we should be staying, instead of wherever we were. Please note this point…it will come back to haunt us later.

After stopping to ask directions from some Belgian French speaking hicks, and after more circling and k-turns than ever before, we, too, were unpacked at our place. I thought the place was nice and spacious, but a little out of the way. Again, Dan would disagree. Megan, too. But later on, we would all come to agree. After unpacking our stuff we got some lunch with the cousins and then came back to take a nap before dinner.

Dinner was good. We had pizza. It was no Italian pizza, but it was still good, nevertheless. We also had made a point to keep trying different local beers, and I had a crazy cherry flavored beer from Bruges. It was not too good, but it was still good enough. It was a good start to get us groovy for the night to come. So Dan, Megan, Victoria, Alex (and other people would later join) and I headed to the only place we knew existed in Durbuy. It was a bar called “La Cave”, with a tiny dance floor, and many locals, which were quite creepy. But we didn’t care. We danced the night away, and just had a good time. The highlight of the night for me, though, was when I went to use the bathroom (it was co-ed), and this guy was in there. I present you with the brilliant dialogue…

Guy: Do you like me?
Me: I don’t even know you.
Guy: (slightly annoyed demeaner) No, no. Do you like my face? (Imagine heavy accent and him circling his finger around his face.)
Me: I gotta use the bathroom.

After that, Meg, Dan, and I headed back to our hotel. It was scary because the roads were all dark and narrow, and it was definitely something out of a horror movie, and so I mentioned how I was surprised some Monkey Man didn’t jump out at us yet, and then Dan said he was surprised that the hicks didn’t come out and attack Megan and I, which turned my innocent joke into me being even more, freaked out (thanks Dan). We finally get to our hotel, then, and we go to open the door. But we couldn’t. So we figured it was just a fluke, and someone else tried. But the key would not turn. Wouldn’t budge. So after about 30 minutes of trying, we figured we were SOL, and headed back into town to see if we could stay with the rents. I should mention there was nobody working there or anything to possibly help us. So we went to the hotel where we called poor Victoria and woke her up to see if she knew what room the rents were staying in. But this is what happened. She had to wake up her brother to find out what room her parents were in. Then they had to wake up their parents to ask what room Meg’s parents were in. Then, obviously we had to wake her parents. Somehow a few other cousins were woken in the chaos, so no man was spared. I ended up calling our hotel, too, and the lady who lives across from the hotel answered, and she tried the door, but also to no avail. We would have to go back in the morning, instead.

Anyway, Dan got his wish, and we were sleeping in the same hotel as his parents. Not so gloriously, though, for we were sleeping on the floor using a couple sheets as a mattress. But it worked.

Day 3
We woke up after our nights on the floor, and headed back to our hotel where we were told somebody was still trying to get our door open. I sort of demanded free breakfast in a sort of non-demanding way, which we entertained ourselves with until the door was opened. When we went to our room to retrieve our belongings, we noticed they had to pretty much ‘break open’ the door, and there were wood shavings and everything all over the floor by the lock. Big oops on their part.

We got all our stuff and headed back to the parents’ hotel to get ready and showered. Then we sat around the hotel for a little bit to chat with Megan’s family and figure out directions to our planned destination of Liège. At about noon the Haynes family convoy headed out, and I had very strict directions to follow Uncle Kevin, and to not lose him. It doesn’t sound like a difficult task, but time (or lack there of) would prove otherwise.

It was a fun car ride, and we were rocking out to tunes in the car from the Belgian stations that were in the area. It was a mix of early 90’s/present day European funk. Some good, some very European. It was nice and calm, though…that is until Uncle Kevin became a speed demon, and I was asked to break 100 km/hr speed. Later I would be laughed at, knowing that 100 km isn’t nearly as fast as it sounds, but the roads were windy and narrow, and I was plenty comfortable at my 60 km/hr speed. The rest of the ride proved pretty uneventful, except for the fact that I was gripping the steering wheel tighter, and doing silent prayers a little more often. Oh, and once I saw ponies, which apparently really excites me, and so I almost hit this random pole on the side of the road. I think that may have been the day before actually, but it was brought up enough this day, that it almost felt like it happened on day 3.

When we arrived at Liège, we made it just in time to go see Megan’s grandfather’s ceremony. He was being honored for his involvement at the Battle of the Bulge during World War II. It was a very nice ceremony. Tasteful, and thoughtful. After it was over, her grandfather wanted to find the grave of a friend that he was in a foxhole with during the war. Upon finding it, he took some pictures with it, and then stops the Ambassador, who happened to be passing by, to tell him he knew said man. Next thing you know, there are news cameras on him, and he is telling jokes, and just stealing the spotlight. It was awesome.

Then, on my way out of the ceremony, some old man approached me and said something. I didn’t hear him at all, so I asked him to repeat what he said. Old Man: I want to see you in dat dwess tomowwow when it is waining.
Me: I’m sorry?
Old Man: I want to see you in dat dwess tomowwow when it is waining. You understand?
Me: No. Waining?
Megan: Dina, he wants to see you in your white dress when it’s raining.
Me: Ooooh.
Old Man: You going to the weception?
Me: (thinking he’s creepy, I shouldn’t talk to him.) Will there be food?

For all you wondering, I did not go to the ceremony. Even though the answer to my question was yes, there was food. Instead we headed back to the hotel (we were now officially staying in the same one as the rest of the family), and we got ready for a big family dinner.

We headed down to the dinner where we got pre-dinner cocktails, and just talked about our eventful day. Please note. That was drink 1. We soon took our places at a massive table, where we were given bread and some starter wine. Drink 2. Then we were given our first courses. Complete with more wine. Drink 3. Then our main course. I had the duck. Drink 4. At this point the table was feeling pretty good. Everyone was laughing at jokes (even the ones I offered), and that’s when the speeches and cheers started coming. Megan somehow started one (who was a couple glasses ahead of me, I should add), to which I suddenly had the urge to finish. Yes, I gave a ‘I love this family cause they bring me to fancy dinners and make me feel apart of their own family’ addendum, after which I promptly accepted drink 5. Then we had a delicious dessert, during which the lady who runs the hotel came to us and gave us a complimentary bottle of champagne. Drink 6. To which one of Megan’s Uncles gave us some sound advice. He told us to finish our glasses quick, because empty glasses get refilled. But when my glass was empty and I learned the champagne was finished, I turned to her uncle, disappointedly showing him my glass and announcing “You and I have a bone to pick.” He didn’t even think twice before filling my glass with half the champagne in his glass, because he knew better than to mess with a buzzed Dina. It was great, though. (Drink 6.5). Then, the waiters came around and asked if we wanted an after-dinner drink. Hot coffee with amaretto? Sure! Sounds delicious. Drink 7. By the time that drink came, though, I couldn’t finish it all, cause it was too hot and difficult to drink, so I swapped it for a Bailey’s on ice. Drink 8. And that’s when me and the young family deemed it time to go out.

Back to La Cave we went. At this point everyone was amply sauced, and it was just a fun carefree night. We started at some pub where I tried to drink a beer, but when I was confused as to why two moving beers were in front of me when I was sure I only ordered one, I decided to cut myself off. Then Megan, Alex, and I went to La Cave, and the others offered to join us later. There I met the waiter from the hotel, and we hung out for awhile, along with this other Belgian that looked like the actor Michael Vartan. It was a really really fun Haynes family-filled night.

Day 4
This day we woke up, got some breakfast, and then headed back to Brussels. The drive was pretty good until we got into Brussels, where we got terribly lost, and I started to get a little frustrated with the driving thing. But we found our way eventually, and Megan rewarded me by letting us eat at the Pizza Hut there. Yay! Just like home.

Then we took a nap with the intention of going to see Pirates of the Caribbean 3 when we awoke, but we woke a little later than intended. We made our way to the theater, and missed the last show by about 20 minutes, but decided we would go the next day. So instead, we ventured out and got some ice cream, which was pretty good, and then headed back, where it wasn’t long before I was asleep again.

A nice and easy day.

Day 5
We had some breakfast with the family, and then headed to the theater. We watched Pirates, which wasn’t bad, but I still think the sequels pale in comparison to the first one. It was still fun to go to the movies in Belgium with Megan, though. How many people can say they did that J. Then, we headed back to the hotel where we grabbed Dan, and headed to yet another American chain for lunch. Chi Chi’s. I just wanted the nachos J. And it was great. Then we got some ice cream…from my Australian Ice Cream place, and then headed to the train station so I could be nice and early to the airport. Grrr.

I got on the train and it took me very little time to check in and go through customs. I was relieved to be there on time, but then when I looked up at the board, I saw, without any stated reason, that my flight was delayed an hour. I was a little frustrated because I was ready to get back, and I would miss the last bus back to Nice Nord, but it gave me good reason to prepare my work stuff for the following day. So I did that, and about an hour and a half later they started boarding for what would be the worst flight I ever had.

There was so much turbulence throughout most of the duration of the flight, to the extent that the cabin crew were told to take their seats. Nobody looked pleased on the flight, and it was getting to the point where I was subtly trying to locate my barf bag. Thankfully, I didn’t end up needing it. The good part of the trip, though, was that I started talking to the lady next to me, who turned out to be incredibly nice and had a really cute little son. It then turned out she was a dentist, so that was my ticket to my pre-states Dentist visit. So I guess that was sort of worth the scary, from Hell plane ride.

Finally, I made it home. Home sweet home. And that brings me to today. With really bad sunburn all over my body and a bad case of the chocolate cravings. And that is what I have to offer to you today. I hope you are all doing well, and I can’t wait to see you soon!

Missing you xoxox,

Dina

My Tribute to the Sapnameister

An Ode To Sapna

Here’s to the greatest girl that left me yesterday.
My French American friend with whom I liked to play.

Together we traveled to places far and near,
Where we had a tequila shot, absynth, or bottle of beer.

Wherever we happened to be, per chance,
We were there to be giddy and happy and dance.

Ma Nolan’s, Wayne’s, Thor’s or even Blue Whales.
Our dancing never stopped, nor did our crazy tales.

If we had a nickel for every shot of tequila we took,
We’d both live in mansions with a butler and a cook.

If we had a dime for everytime we felt glee,
We’d be part owners of NYC.

If we had a quarter for every crush that we had,
We’d be serving Champagne at our Bachelorette pads.

And heaven forbid a dollar for every bad joke we relayed,
Never again would we have to be paid.

Antibes, Prague, Monaco, and Cannes,
All over the area we made awesome plans.

10 shots in 10 minutes and then some singing we did,
Which didn’t go over well, so we ran and hid.

Danced of tables, stages, and bars,
Sang in rooms, streets, and cars.

I miss you more than words could ever say
And today I missed you even more than yesterday.

I thought of you when I heard Billie Jean,
‘Cause I thought of your energy, fierce and everything but mean.

So to this I offer you a Dina Ode, even if the right words I lack,
And I would give a jabillion euros to have you back!

I miss you, and so does everyone else in Nice!! My blog (and time here in Nice) will suffer greatly without you in it :(.

The Prague Blog

Hello All! I know, I know. Waaay long overdue. I think I got snide comments from more than a couple people wondering when this would show it’s lovely face in your inboxes. While your prayers have been answered. Long live Prague Blog! (that rhymes nicely).

By The Numbers

4 free drinks + 3 more that were offered but refused…European record for Sapna and I.

7 Australians encountered

100 times we heard one particular Australian say he hates Americans

7 month interim between bagels

1 HUGE spider in our hostel…2 FREAKED OUT Americans

6 Swiss Airline complimentary chocolates I had

10 fans on the Slovakia Side at the soccer game

5008 times my shoe got stuck in the cobblestones on the St. Charles Bridge

3 Americans we met

20 Tram rides (at least) that we took

2 Tram doors that literally closed on me... Literally

1,000,000 French people we saw

3 balls of falafel I ate…which were delicious

Day 1

On the first day, Sapna and I made plans to meet up at the airport. With a little delay on both of our parts (I keep forgetting how crowded the buses can get because people actually do work on Fridays here), we both checked in and made our way to the plane. In no time we were seated on the plane, which is of course when I realize how badly I have to use the facilities (AKA tinkle), because I super hydrate myself whenever I fly. Poor Sapna heard me complaining about it forever, but we both knew all would be well when they turned off the seatbelt light after take off. But no, SOL. Apparently the route Mr. Pilot and the people who decide that stuff, chose the route which was highly turbulent, which they took the time out to announce. Therefore, the seatbelt sign would be on indefinitely throughout the flight.

Thankfully, about a half hour later, I was bouncing like a baby in the bathroom of the plane (due to the turbulence), but nothing was going to take away the beauty of that moment for me. We also got delicious sandwiches on the plane (Meggie..it was the same one we got when we went to Zurich), even thought the ride was only an hour long…

We landed in Zurich and then had to take another hour long ride to Prague. It worked out well, with us going straight to the terminal from our last terminal, and only a few minutes later boarding the plane.

We finally arrived in Prague, where we first encountered the bitchiest lady I had ever seen in Europe at one of the help counters. Then we encountered a nice lady who steered us in the right direction via bus and public transport, and bought those tickets through the second bitchiest lady ever. We then made our way to the hostel and walked up and down the street searching for it. Little did we know that we were walking up and down a street called Kamenickà, whereas Keramickà was where we supposed to be looking. Uhhhh…righto. Those crazy Czech’s and their crazy street names that look the same.

Anyway, we finally made it to the hostel, where we were struggling to explain the situation to the chick there (with dreads…apparently at our hostel you can only work there if you have said dreads). We got our room key, or keys (there were 3…quite the task we thought together, considering we were definitely going to be using them after trying absynth at least once), and headed to our room. We had booked a 5 bed room, but our room was actually a 6 bed. And the TV they advertised had 3 Czech channels, with one that repeated. And the kitchen in the room was fine, as long as you opened to cabinet to shut the refridgerator door. Oh, and the handle to our mini bathroom sort of came off a lot. But we ended up having the whole room to ourselves all three nights (with one exception that I will relay later), which was quite lovely.

After changing and taking a breather, Sapna and I headed to the St. Charles Bridge, which we read was a must-see. And it was. It was clearly the center of tourist activity, with street vendors, picture-takers, and crazy foreigners at every turn. We quickly became two of those three in a matter of minutes.

We then followed the bridge to the old Town, where we got some expensive dinner (relative to how much we thought it should be…damn those tourist traps), but we got it right in front of this clock that we also read about in the guide books. On the hour, ever hour there are puppets that ‘dance’ we were told. It was the lamest thing I had ever seen. They don’t dance. It’s just two wooden figures on a circular track that just go round and round. For like 20 seconds. My overpriced chicken Ceasar Salad, which didn’t even taste like Caesar Salad was more thrilling than the clock. The coolest part of the whole dinner/clock event, however, was the waiter that looked like Bon Jovi. I was in Prague, but straight ahead of me represented my Jersey roots. Yes, he caught me staring. Many times.

After dinner we headed back and took a little nap. We fell asleep to Czech Dancing With the Stars and woke up again to Czech Dancing With the Stars. After we got ready, we headed out, again going over the St. Charles Bridge, and we went to this Irish Club. It was unlike Irish Clubs here or at home, but it was fun. The music they played there was pretty great, and this old Irishman bought us both drinks. And I had a Pilsner, because I had to while I was there.

From the Irish bar we went to one of the supposedly biggest clubs in Europe. And I would believe it. It had 4 floors, and each floor offered at least a couple rooms (or a couple entrances to the same room). The music in each room was different. And each room, of course, had a very big bar. So we got more drinks and started to get our dance on. We started on the bottom floor and made our way up. I quickly vetoed floor two, though I can’t remember why. I was a fan of floor 3, though, as they were playing 90’s and late 80’s rock. Sooo my thing. There we met some Australians. One in particular loved Sapna. So we hung out with them for awhile. It was really funny though, because we talked to the one Australian, Chris, I believe for a long time. And then I started dancing with his friend (cause that’s what you do when your friend is being wanted by his friend…it’s the rule of friends). Anyway, I guess me and Chris’s friend didn’t really talk much, because literally like hours later I was like “So, are you having a good time in Prague?” and friend was blown away by the fact that I spoke English. Granted, I don’t know if ‘blown away’ would be the correct term. ‘Disappointed’ may be more a propos. You know how guys prefer the dancing without the talking…But anyway, we ended up hanging out with them and chatting for the rest of the night into the morning. Then we headed back over the St. Charles to get the tram back. And that’s when my stupid shoes got caught every ten seconds in between the cobblestones. Grrrr.

Oh yeah. And the absynth. The first night we tried a shot of it. The bartenders there also loved Sapna so they took extra special care with our shots, knowing it was also our first experience. They actually put sugar on spoons and then lit the sugar on fire and let it drip into the absynth. But they did this continually for a good 5 minutes (which I would later learn doesn’t soften the blow at all). Finally they handed it over to us, as we handed over our camera to them. Let me just tell you. Absynth = Absolutely Disgusting = Great after photos. Seriously, though. It’s supposed to taste like licorice. To me it tasted like burning. And my throat hurt after. Haha. It’s hardcore like that. And the biggest shocker of all…Sapna thought it tasted good. Sapna doesn’t think many things taste good. Sapna is a vegetarian. I just wanted to throw that in there, even though it is of no relevance. I have to say, though, the effects of absynth weren’t too startling or anything. We only had one shot of it, but it was a very clean sort of buzz. It lasted quickly, and it was comfortable. Except for the esophagus being burned part.

Oh, and the best part was at like 6 AM our tram comes, and the Australians were in mid sentence waiting with us, and all our bedside manners were shot to hell as the night progressed, because we saw our tram and didn’t even say goodbye. We just ran after it. And then as an afterthought we shot over a wave. Still feeling a little badly about that to this day. But not badly enough where I don’t still laugh thinking about it. But Karma was instant because we got on the right tram, but thought it was the wrong tram. So we got off at the next stop and walked to find another tram going the opposite way. But when we got on that one, we realized we were now actually going the wrong way. So back to the old stop we went. To do it all over again. Basically, it was past 8 by the time we got some shut eye.

Day 2

We woke up pretty late this day…around 3 o’clock. We then got up and took our showers and what not (Sapna burning the bejebus out of her hand in the shower because apparently the shower head, which you have no choice but to hold, gets insanely hot), and we headed to the stadium to buy tickets for the football (soccer) game that day. With tickets in hand, and a good few hours to kill, we made our way back to the bridge (surprise, surprise) and we took a boat ride there along the river. It was fun! We got complimentary Pilsner and ice cream or cookies, and we got to learn about Prague all the while. The captain was the best, though. He was cracking jokes and it was so cute cause his English was in direct translation. I don’t remember the beginning to his one joke, but he was implying he was going to jump ship (HAHAHA pun!!) and take us somewhere on the boat with him. But only if we “Haf eenough of zah time.” The only bummer were the really rude old people that were sitting on the back of the boat talking RIDICULOUSLY loudly. And the guy of the group would randomly break out in operatic song. There was a great moment where this other old guy, sitting across from me, turned around and yelled ‘SHUT UP!’. I was hoping for a senior citizen brawl. Well, at least a verbal battle.

After the boat we went back to the stadium to watch the game. It was excellent. The ambiance was nuts. People yelling, chanting, doing choreographed cheers. I was quite frightened and mesmerized at the same time. But I felt safe (yet also quite the opposite) because it seemed that all the on duty cops in Prague were sitting in our section. The Czech Republic Spartans were actually playing Slovakia that game (which in my mind equates to heavy rivalries since they used to be all part of one great big Czechoslovakia), but it was funny because the Slovak cheering section was all of like 7 people on the opposite side. But they were hardcore in their own right. When their team scored a goal they were jumping around like monkeys. There was also almost a fight among the players on the field. But no such luck. Wow, do you see my yearnings for violence?? The same girl who has to peacefully coexist with bugs because she doesn’t have the heart to kill them save spiders.

The one thing I thought was really weird was how the Czech people whistle when they don’t like something. Americans whistle at games when something good happens. They do the opposite. It was quite confusing at first. Another thing that was quite different was when someone got hurt on the field (which was often), it seemed more like the medical teams worked fast, running in with a stretcher and hurredly taking them out, not because a player needed quick medical attention, but moreso because they just seemed to be in the way during a soccer game. Haha. But all around good time!

After the game we went to a pizza place by our Hostel, called Pizza Einstein. Never figured out the connection, but it was pretty tasty. It would have been cooler if my toppings spelled out E = MC^2, though.

We then went out again that night, this time starting at an English Stag Bar (unbeknownst to us), but that worked out highly in our favor because the bartenders told us we were the first women in there all night, and they started donating shots to our cause. The being women at a stag bar cause. The one bartender was actually only working there for the weekend because he was visiting and his father was friends with the owner. He was actually a Canadian with Prague decent, and it turned out he was also a Jew, which instantaneously made us buddies for the night. He also said I looked like Kate from Lost, after I told him he looked like Paul Rudd. Even though he acted like a hyper Vince Vaughn (yeah, I know).

From there we went to our first clubby bar where we danced for a little bit and had a second go around with absynth. This time the bartenders weren’t digging Sapna, so they just gave us flaming spoons of sugar and told us to dip them when the fire goes out. Once again, awful. Clearly, I would make a bad subject in a conditioning experiment.

With my further burned esophagus, Sapna and I headed to this other bar that we read really good reviews on called M1. Yeah. It was like the clock. We did a little dancing, though, and we met some people from South Africa (who were actually living in Prague). After the Absynth, we were all a little too excited about that, but they were really nice, so it was fun.

By the time dawn neared, we were ready to head back. We opted for a cab this time. You should have seen me trying to explain where to take us. I tried the name, but nobody got it so I had to break out the map and show them. Then I got in the cab and after a couple minutes I asked our driver where his meter was. He said it broke. I said how much will it be. He said 250. I said no, You think I am stupid. 200. He said fine. Sapna said ‘He’s a liar!’ in drunken French. I think the next day the same cab ride was 150. I was stupid. Haha. Thank goodness for that exchange rate working in our favor.

Day 3

The next day I woke up crazy early considering how late we went to sleep. I took the opportunity to go to the grocery store and get some water, and some snackies. I was loving the grocery store. Everything was so cheap. And things that are usually in English were in Czech. I just walked around aimlessly for a good 15 minutes and then made my way back with big ass waters and a breakfast bar in tow. I was restless, because Sapna was still asleep, and was contemplating heading to the Jewish District solo. But then Sapna insisted she wanted to come, so I did some research on where we could visit that day. Just when it would be the best time to get up and at ‘em, poof, I fell asleep again. Finally we woke up again at around 3, and then headed out to get….BAGELS!! I was sooooo excited. I miss bagels so very much since they don’t seem to exist in France. There is this place in Prague, though, called Bohemia Bagels that we had read about and vowed to visit. Sapna made me swear I wouldn’t get my hopes up too high because I would more than likely be disappointed. So not the case. They had all sorts of bagels, and Philadelphia Cream Cheese varieties, and just everything else magical. It was delicious and well worth the little trek we had to make to get there.

After bagels we went to visit the Castle. It took us awhile to find it, but the best part was along the way I asked this elderly woman if she spoke English. She said no, but she goes “You can…do…what?” Clearly, the only 4 English words she knows. I just smiled and said “Castle?” So, she actually knew 5 words. But she was so adorable. She did this sign/body language to show us it was straight and around a bend. But she put her old body into the around the bend part. Like I mean, old lady was on her tiptoes with her body contorting in the direction opposite her pointing finger. I think she even added a little wispy whistle in there for effect. She was so great.

We found the castle, but couldn’t go in or anything. I think it was actually like a church or something. So after all the walking we just took some pictures, and headed back down the hill.

Our next stop was the Jewish Neighborhood. We got there sort of late, so we didn’t have the opportunity to see much. We went into one Synagogue-turned-Museum though, where the names of the people killed in Terezin (the Concentration Camp in Czechoslovakia) and I found a Berkowitz. That was kind of crazy. We also went to see the Jewish Cemetery which actually has graves stacked in 5 layers to fit all the people in there.

That was all we really had time for there because things started closing. So we then took the opportunity to go to the souvenir shops and look for presents and such. After that, we went back to the Old Town, and I was adamant about seeing this Black Light Show I read about. I figured it would be unlike anything I could see back in the states or France, and I guess it was. It was a nonverbal show (set to music) loosely based on Alice In Wonderland. It was in a Black Light Theatre, though, so everything was based around the black light effect. Some parts were really cool, but some were a little too artsy fartsy for me. But it was pretty good.

After that, we went back to the hostel to get ready for our last night on the town. That’s when IT happened. The incident. I am referring to the GIANT spider in our shower. It was all hairy. And Huge. And scary. I am scared of spiders as it is. Now add hair, height, speed, and in our shower, and you got a freaked out Dina. Thankfully, Sapna is a sissy like me, so I didn’t have to feel silly. We contemplated for a good 5 minutes what to do, while constantly checking to make sure the spider was still there. The stupid thing was stuck in the shower because it couldn’t climb up the sides to get out. So we decided our ultimate plan of attack would be to drown it. I feel a little guilty for such a cowardly and inhumane way to take Mr. Scary Spider’s life, but did I mention it was hairy? And huge? Anyway, Mr. Spider shriveled up and put up a little fight. But, our dreams for a departure shower were shattered.

So, with our smellyness we went to this other club that night. It was actually open 24 hours. When we first got there it was a little weird, and they were playing Techno so it wasn’t my thing. But after awhile the music stopped and the good-looking guys showed up. It was party time in the Prague household. In the midst of rocking out to Madonna, I accidentally kicked this guy that was huge. Like Spider huge. Super tall and built. I apologized, and he grabbed me to dance to the next song…I’ve Had the Time of My Life. So here we are, partner dancing to Dirty Dancing, and Mr. Huge Guy is quite the twinkle toes. He, too, was Canadian, and as it turns out, was an ex-NY Giant. I didn’t believe me until I asked him what position he played and he said ‘benchwarmer’. But now he plays in the Canadian Football League. He agreed with my statement that it’s blasphemous to play Football instead of Ice Hockey when you come from Canada. But yet there he was. We kind of chilled and talked to them for the rest of the night (which was much shorter than our others), and then we headed back to get some sleep.

Day 4

We woke up at like 10 and got our stuff together to get ready to check out. I don’t think we did anything this day except haul our stuff towards the airport where we got some breakfast and just chilled for a couple hours before our flights home. I think we were both pretty tired and just looking forward to our respective spiderless showers and our beds. The flights were uneventful, but sandwichless, but they did give us ice cream on the second flight, which reminded me of the Baskin’ Robbins strawberry cheesecake flavor. Delicious J.

So, that was basically our trip in a nutshell. Ok, there was nothing in a nutshell about it. That was basically our trip in a long detailed blogish saga. And you love it. There is much to write about Nice that happened recently, but I will spare you and your eyes. And your precious time. But I miss you all very much.

XOXO,

Dina

The "Lianna Came To Visit" Edition

Hello all! There is sooo much to write about, but I am going to focus on the awesome time I had with Lianna this last week. If you can handle it…

Mexican in Monaco
So Sapna and I had went to the beach during the day, and Sapna had yet to go in the water since her escape to Nice. So, we decided that the time was right for her to have her first Mediterannean excursion. After many minutes of complaining how cold the water was and dipping our toes in and out, we finally made our way in. That’s when we saw another assistant and she came in to join us. It was nice cause the water was really calm. That is until WHAM…an unexpected HUGE wave came and pulled us all in. And just when we were catching our breath and settling our panic, in came another. At that point we all ran out of the water. Actually I ran, and made Sapna come with. We were all cut up and a little shaken, but that was the perfect excuse for Sapna and I to feel deserving of a good dinner out on the town…thus, Mexican food in Monaco.

It was delicious. I had soft tacos. With JALEPENO PEPPERS!!! I hadn’t had those since I left the US. They were really good, along with a delicious Pina Colada. Well worth the near-drowning incident, the trek to Monaco, and the extra euro spent on the side of Jaleps.

Lianna’s Visit!!

Day 1
So after meeting Lianna at the airport, we went back to my apartment, long enough to change into our bathing suits and then we headed back downtown. On our way we picked up sandwiches, so our bodies could be in fine form when we laid out on the beach. Ha. We stayed there for a couple hours, where my color turned from albino white, to a little less white. It was fabulous.

That night, I took Lianna to Ladies’ Night at Thor’s. We danced and sang and party hardied like there was no tomorrow. So much so, that we had to take a cab back cause we didn’t have the energy to get back any other way. Thus concluding day 1.

Day 2
The second day after waking up, Lianna and I decided it would be a good day to go to Cannes, and then lay on the beaches there. The beaches in Nice are actually made up of rocks, but the beaches in Cannes are all sandy. So we got ourselves ready and rushed to the train station. But once we got there, we learned that they just opted to cancel our trip to Cannes. So we had a good hour to kill. So we decided to go to the help counter and see how much a trip would be to say, Milan. To our delight, it was pretty cheap and only a 5 hour trip. So in the best impromptu move of my recent existence, Lianna and I bought 2 roundtrip tickets to Milan for the next day (Tuesday) until Thursday.

So with our tickets in hand, we finally made our way to Cannes, where we chilled and tanned for a couple of hours before heading back to my apartment. It was a fulfilling day already, but we picked it up a notch by going out on the town again, and making our way to Ma Nolan’s. The guys even paid special attention to me there because I was with a hot blonde chick J.

Day 3
So, off we trekked to the train station to head out to Milan. Of course, our train was delayed (as was our luck for the week), but it turned out to be only like a 20 minute delay. We made ourselves comfortable and ended up being next to these older Italian ladies. They seemed cool enough, but we were annoying enough, so it was a little weird.

Lianna and I just talked and joked and did whatever, and then this old Italian lady came in our car. With my minimal Italian knowledge I heard her sit down, say something under her breath, and then one of the previously mentioned ladies said “They don’t speak Italian,” to which they all laughed, sorry, cackled. I also noticed the old Italian lady, whom I had a mild dislike towards now, point to my seat and say something. Apparently I was in her seat…

Next comes a younger Italian lady to sit down. And her seat is where the Italian witch is sitting. But the Italian witch says “Well there is nothing I can do, because that girl (meaning me) is in mine.” After that she makes a phone call on her cell phone, and I pull out my tickets to show the nice young Italian that I am, indeed, in my correct seat. At this point the witch is talking on the phone and ignoring the fact that the young lady is waiting (whilst standing) to sit down, and the worst part is, while she is on the phone, she put her bag on the other seat across from her, so now the other lady can’t sit anywhere. And she is just chatting away knowing full well the situation.

Finally, witch gets off the phone, and states again that I have her seat, and then pulls out her ticket. It was in Italian, but I could still see that yes, I was in her seat number, but she was in the wrong train car entirely. To which nice Italian goes to me “See, even some Italians can’t read Italian.” I know pride is dangerous thing, but I was so happy to see witch’s embarrassment as she left the train car. See, witch!! American’s aren’t as stupid as you think!

Anyway, upon arriving, we took a cab to our hostel, where the front desk guy did not seem to keen on us staying there. But he took us to the room, and I decided that him not liking us wouldn’t stop me from being annoying and asking him for ideas on where to go. It turns out, though, that he hearted us, because he then offered to take us out with some of his friends the following night, and he offered us wine, and food, and drinks, and everything. We were ruling the school (AKA hostel).

That night we ventured out for dinner at this Italian restaurant very near to the hostel. When we walked up, they sat us immediately in the back of the restaurant (mind you, nobody else was seated in the back). I guess they figured we were annoying, and liked to eat a lot, so maybe they just put us close to the kitchen. But every single old Italian man working there (and even one young one) stopped over and did the fake sitting down with us routine. Oy. It was soooo delicious, though. We had pizza and the best Tiramisu of my life. After dinner our waiter even walked us part of the way to our hostel. We were thinking that he is supposed to be working so it was weird, but he was nice and cute, so it was fine by us.

After dinner we went to a little bar downstairs from our hostel to get a drink and try to watch part of the Manchester United v. Milano soccer game, which was a big deal there. We got there in time to see the last game winning goal. Good enough for me.

From there we went out a little bit to see what the bars/clubs were like, but they all sucked, so we got ice cream instead. Way better! After that we went to the hostel and just hung out with Mario, the guy at the front. He showed us music videos in Italian and we figured out stuff to do the next day. Then we went to bed. (P.S. In our room was an older, not so friendly couple.)

Day 4
Returning to the unfriendly couple. Funny story. They wanted to leave the room in the morning, and I was half asleep/half awake while they were getting ready. And then they were about to leave the room, and I had no idea why they were just standing there. It turns out in my half asleep state, my feet were hanging off the bed and they wanted to get out, but my feet were blocking the door. And Lianna told me she saw the whole thing but wanted to see how it would play out without getting involved…(bitch :p). They went with the old foot tap, and I just giggled as I moved.

Anyway, once we got up, we headed to the Duomo (which took us way longer than necessary due to my [lack of] map reading skills). We were told there would be things going on in the Piazza there because it was a national Italian Holiday. Well the festivities turned into some sort of rally, but that’s neither here nor there.

The first thing we did was some shopping at H&M…go figure. And then we got some ice cream. And then we did the sight seeing, after the other priorities were met. First, we went into the Duomo, an IMMENSE church. They make the churches HUGE in Italy. Huge, Elaborate, and quite ornate. It was cool to see, though.

Next, we went to an art museum next door to the church which had a Kandinsky exhibit going on. Only that part of the museum was open, which was fine with us, because we were already getting a little tired from the walking. It was pretty cool to see, especially since I wasn’t too knowledgeable about his works. So I learned something, new J.

After the museum, we made our way to a street called Via della Spiga, which is the most expensive street in the world (think Tiffany’s, Juicy Couture, Dolce and Gabbana, etc.). Everything was closed as we walked down the street, but it was still crazy to see all those shops together. One of the stores only makes one of everything. So you know you’re getting a one-of-a-kind deal there. Can you imagine?

After that street (which was exhausting enough on its own), Lianna and I went back to the hostel where we rested for a little bit, and then got dinner at a subpar restaurant. We then got ready to go out. We had new roommates in the hostel, who were two awesome girls (I say this because they liked my jokes). We couldn’t convince them to come out with us, but we did convince them to drink wine with us. Lots of people from the hostel were going to this club that night, so we just joined, and it was really fun. It was all outdoors, with the bar and the DJ set up outside, too. They guys were a little creepy and really short (even shorter than tiny Lianna), but it was still awesome to get our dance on in Milan. Perhaps the best part of the night was when we were leaving at 4 AM, and instead of having the crepe stand that I am used to in Nice, they had a Pizza stand, where they had ginormous slices of pizza for our enjoyment. They were sooo delicious. Almost worth going back for that.

We got back and passed out only to wake up just in time to check out of the hostel. We had all our bags, and 3 hours to kill, so we were trying to figure out what to do. We decided to take a looong lunch, and back to the restaurant we ate at the first night we went. This time we went with pasta. This time all the waiters were taking pictures with us, and giving us dessert samplers and such. We felt like celebrities. It was lovely. After that (when our stomachs were full and we were already tired) we went to the train station where we boarded and Lianna slept the whooole way, while I was stuck watching 35-year-old Italian man having his mom spit in a napkin and clean a spot on his white jeans for him. So stereotypical, eh?

Anyway, we got home safely, had some dinner, and then made our way downtown to Wayne’s for Ladies’ Night. What can I say…we’re hardcore.

Day 5
Friday we started at the beach. My tan was looking quite super by this point. Then on the way home we picked up some fresh salmon and salad stuff to make a delicious salmon salad dinner. And it was delicious.

Then we got ready to go out, and made our way to the train station because we were going to party it up in Monaco. Problem. Once again, issues with the train. We got to the station at 10:45 to catch the 11:05 train where I see the bored reads that the next train to Monaco is 5:15 AM. SURPRISE!! The workers are on strike…again. They are forever on strike here. So we were trying to figure out what to do, but it worked out nicely, because one of Sapna’s friends was driving in anyway, and she had room for all of us. So off to Monaco we went. It sucked.

We went to the club (Karément), where we usually go, and thank goodness it was free this time. We got excited to learn that the DJ was from Chicago. An American peep. But I HATE house music. I think it all sounds the same, and it’s all crap. So we asked when he was switching. And he said soon. But an hour later it was still house. And so we asked again, and he promised again. But he wasn’t delivering. And then we found out that he didn’t have any other CDs and he was waiting for the resident DJ to show up, who wasn’t. So it was house music central, and my brain was hurting, and my feet weren’t dancing. And neither were anyone else’s. So we headed home at 4 which is way earlier than the usual, but it was fine. Once we got home Lianna and I crashed.

Day 6
We woke up, and once again went to the beach. We stayed most of the day there, and then we headed home and got ready to go to dinner. We made our way back downtown, and went to this really tasty and fancy French restaurant. We then walked up the Zone Pietons where they have lots of street vendors and performers. I haggled for the first time ever, and I think I love it. Yeah, Jew!

We then got our last ice cream together, which was amazing. It was Rocher Ferraro Flavor, with whipped cream and chocolate sauce, and it was huge and we scarfed it down. (And now I am trying to figure out how to lose the extra baggage I packed on).

We made our way home after that and Lianna packed and we just chilled for awhile. She decided to pull an all-nighter because her cab was coming at 4 AM. I almost did it with her, but fell asleep the last half hour. At 4 we took met the cab, and said good-bye L. I was sad until 5 minutes later when I got back in bed and passed out like a light.

And that was Lianna’s visit. Busy, busy. But soooo fun.

…For An American
After Lianna left, I slept for most of the day, and then that night I went out with Alix and her friends and I met Angelique and Renee at Ma Nolan’s. There I met an Australian, a New Zealander, and an English person. As soon as I started talking to them they started quizzing me on my knowledge of all things British and Australian. That was before they knew I taught all these gems to my students in my English Speaking Countries lessons. But they were surprised. That’s when the “You’re smart…for an American.” was first issued.

…Later that night…

Sarcastic Dina came out full charge. “I like your style…for an American.”

…Even later…

Me: “Didier, they say I’m cool but only for an American.”
Didier: “Well, it’s true…for an American.”

…Bottom line…

I’ve never been prouder….to be an American.

Ok, I think that’s all I’ve got for you. Be prepared, though. Friday I am going to Prague for 3 nights with Sapna. That’s gonna be one hell of a blog…for an American. J

That’s all there is…I hope you are all doing well. I miss you and get to see you soooo soon!!

XOXO,
Dina