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