I know no other song
But that of the rhythm my heart sings
My voice knows no other words
But that in which I speak
My mind knows no other vision
But visions instilled inside these walls
My veins know no other pulse
But that in which they throb
This vessel knows no other sea
But the waves in which it is carried
A million storms, a million rescues
And still it will sail on to you.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Why Regret?
I saw a glimpse of my life today and although I don't know where I'll end up or how I'll get there; I do not regret the decisions I have made along the way. I don't regret thinking I was once in love or once actually and accidentally being in love. I don't regret the heartache, I don't regret the pain, I don't regret being lost or the incidental gain. I don't regret the friends I've made nor the ones I've lost, for all lives take different paths no matter what the cost. I don't regret the smiles, I don't regret the tears. Each one shed, depicted a million different fears. I don't regret my lifestyle, I don't regret taking one too many shots. I don't regret telling you I love you even though it was too much, I don't regret pushing you away because I know now and each and everyday, neither of us will leave this world without you knowing what I always never wanted to say. I lost someone once with unspoken words I can never retract, I'll never lose twice knowing the words I'd lack. Although hearts ache, they beat on. Although bodies ache, they carry us upon. And though we all fall, I'll say I don't regret anything, not even a little bit; in fact, not at all.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
In A Hurry to Get Things Done ...
I recently have realized the desparation in which we all have to rush and speed up life. Whether we are sitting in traffic and want to get home faster or we are waiting at work feeling the last hour as if it were the longest day of the year.
Why the rush? In the end aren't we all going to leave this world all the same? Six feet under and praying that our soul will blissfully end up in Heaven.
I find myself rushing not just everyday life but even situations that are out of my control. Most would say that you cannot rush relationships or love or anything that requires a feeling. I believe this to the upmost extent; however, still ... I find myself rushing. Unfortunately, rushing turns into pushing and that is just obnoxious.
On the other hand, how is it possible to rationalize not to rush, when we feel as if we were merily five yesterday? Tomorrow, before we know it, we will be fifty ... and so on and so on. So, let it be said, if you can withstand the wait, then wait ... And if it is worth the wait, then wait.
Why the rush? In the end aren't we all going to leave this world all the same? Six feet under and praying that our soul will blissfully end up in Heaven.
I find myself rushing not just everyday life but even situations that are out of my control. Most would say that you cannot rush relationships or love or anything that requires a feeling. I believe this to the upmost extent; however, still ... I find myself rushing. Unfortunately, rushing turns into pushing and that is just obnoxious.
On the other hand, how is it possible to rationalize not to rush, when we feel as if we were merily five yesterday? Tomorrow, before we know it, we will be fifty ... and so on and so on. So, let it be said, if you can withstand the wait, then wait ... And if it is worth the wait, then wait.
Friday, July 24, 2009
2 Crazy girls backpack around the UK
First things first, you know how cigarettes come with a warning label? Well, this note may need a warning as it is a little explicit and way more information than any person would want or need to know. Consider this your warning.
June 23rd:Note to self- Never fly on planes with children. Ever! Is it really possible for a child to scream for five hours straight? I'm considering yelling to his mother, to shut her f'ing kid up. I also am considering slyly taking a seat behind the little monster and threatening to throw him out the window. No wonder mothers get post partum depression with a crumb snatcher like that. I literally had to walk a mile to catch my plane in Philadelphia, I barely made it! Actually, let me rephrase that; I literally had to run a mile to catch my plane and I barely made it. Luckily, the plane ride to London I sat next to a huge African American man, who did not seem to understand the idea of personal space. Every time I would move my arm off of the communal arm rest and on to my side of the seat, he would invade my space even more by touching my arm. Not to mention as we were taking off, he was kissing his cross and saying prayers. I was sure the plane was going down. The plane to Philadelphia ... the guy next to me had the worst body odor ever. Awesome! Once my senses became accustom to the odor, it wasn’t so bad.
June 24th:Oh customs man, how you must love your job. Harassing innocent girls whom can barely understand what the hell you are saying, what a thrill! he asks me, “Do you have a copy of your return ticket home?”My response, “Uh, noooo.” I'm thinking, crap ... Why would I have to make a copy of my return ticket home? He harasses me for about thirty minutes, asking me where I am going? Wanting to know the addresses of each hotel (Which Ashley had and was on a separate flight). Moral of the story, I was sweating so bad and was so nervous I could barely answer him. It is a wonder he didn't send me back. He proceeds to ask me what I want to see while I am in Europe. I might as well have been stroking out. I could not think of anything I wanted to see besides Stonehenge. This was not a good enough answer for the little bastard. Finally, at the end of the harassment he say's “Here is why I am asking you so many questions, you do not have any proof you are returning home” ... I cut him off here, “I have a copy of my itinerary” ... I have never gotten a dirtier look (I'll retract this statement later in the trip) in my life. It took Ashley two hours to find me. She had to take the subway, a bus and I do not even know what else because I was sitting by myself in shock, still trying to calm down from my customs asshole. Sitting in a chair all by myself frazzled, I am considering clicking my heels together muttering, “There is no place like home.” Then I realize my Toto (Roanan) is no where to be found. A failed attempt at trying to return to P-Town, Dorothy style. We’re not in Penryn anymore Roanie. Then, it took us an hour and a half and three cigarettes to find the underground subway. We went up the same escalator three times. Ashley almost fell over backwards with her backpack on, I think I peed a little.We may have gotten a little lost once we got off the underground and tried to find our hostel in London but no big deal. We really didn't care about that part after the six flights of stairs up to our room. The hostel was ... a rat hole. Neither of us had ever stayed in a hostel before and I prayed it would get better. Later that day, after our four hour nap ... we decide to go get some food. We stop at an amazing Mediterranean Bistro and had a fantastic meal. The guys were so nice they gave us two bottles of wine for free and took 10 percent off of our ticket. Later, they proposed with gummy rings. So I guess we are engaged. Except, Ashley ate hers. And then the second one he gave her too.We sat outside the restaurant and had a cigarette, when two gay guys walk up and strike up conversation. They ask us if we would like to go to an ubergay bar? We asked what it was and he asked us if we knew why they called it ubergay? Ashley's response, “Because it's uber gay?” Sounded good to me. They then informed us they would be attending a “massage party” afterward and what time we would like to meet up? We politely declined, although I think Ashley really wanted to go.After going to a night club and drinking more, we finally made it back to our hostel where we slept in the same single bed. I hate cuddling but it was better than risking catching the HIV in my own bunk. jk
June 25th-Construction started (I mean jackhammers and heavy machinery) at 7 am outside our window. Somehow, we still managed to sleep till 2 pm. It was necessary, end of story. When Ashley woke up sometime between 7 am and 2 pm to resituate herself, she opened her eyes only to find our hostel roommate sitting up in the adjacent bed, roughly two feet away and staring directly at her. Ashley then realized she had been watching her sleep. Ashley said “Hey” awkwardly, and then rolled over towards me. When she informed me of this later … I think I peed a lot.Today Ashley and I somehow got on the topic of the Genus Book of World Records. Ashley then turns and says, “Did you know my mom was in the Genus Book of World Records for the longest tongue?” I ponder this for a moment. “When did she tell you that?”Nonchalantly she responds, “Oh, I don’t know, I think I was about eight.”“Did you ever think she was joking? I mean, if she had the longest tongue in the world … I would think it would be hard to speak. I have had many conversations with Mamma Donna. Did you ever ask her again?”Typical Ashley response, “No, I just believed her and I have thought that she was in there ever since.”“Have you ever seen the book she is in? I mean, if I were in there, I would definitely own the book.”Ashley, “Yeah, you’re right. No, I have never seen it. Huh, I’ll have to ask her.”Dear Ashley Coons,I admire your sense of adolescence and ability to believe everything you hear without second guessing it; however, you may be the only person who can shock me and humble me at the same time. In conclusion, I am worried about you. Good day.Respectfully,Summer Dales The coffee at the coffee shop was pre-made, I literally had to pick a cup with no ice out of a fridge and she added ice to it. Nothing in London is cold and you always get two ice cubes in everything. I don't think we have ever wanted an ice water more in our lives. Did I mention everyone is dressed amazing? Jeans and T-shirts really don't cut it. Also, I think there is something wrong with the mirrors here. I am pretty sure all of Europe has mirrors similar to a funhouse at a fair where they make your body look distorted. Except, funny … when you look in these ones, they just make you look like shit and a haggard bum. Somehow, Europe had the same affect on our cameras because we clearly look like shit in all of our pictures as well. Weird. I had my first experience with a 'foul awful' or falafel. disgusting. We went to St. James Park, lovely.St. Stevens Castle.Witnessed a drug deal between a business man and two Jamaican guys, who then turned to us and said, “You did not see anything.”We had the worst Indian food ever at Cafe Mumbai. I'll be sending my review to the London Times when I return to the states. The stupid little man who hustled us in was going to charge Ashley 4 pounds for a side of hot sauce ($8.00). F that. But the food was so bad, we really debated it for the rest of the meal. After our horrific dinner and our daily dose of stealing wifi from our local mini-mart, we were having a “poor me” session while sitting outside a pub by ourselves, drinking our Stella's. The best thing about Ashley and I, is that we are always on the same page. When one is feeling down, we both are. This was constant throughout the trip. However, this “poor me” session came on due to trying to talk to a group of local guys and being completely shut down. At this moment, it was entirely necessary for a “poor us”. We just wanted to make friends (I realize that sounds as if we are in first grade but it was “poor us” session, not yours). During our funk, a Polish guy turns to us in pure distress and says in an accent, “Michael Jackson has died! Oh my God, can I sit down?”Really, I didn't care about the news, but his response was hilarious. You would have thought he was his brother. He went on over and over about how much he hates Britain and how great Americans are. He insisted we go to a club with him as he was so happy to meet us. We ended up talking to two other guys we met who were really cool (Alex and Peter … or Peta as I like to say it) and he wanted nothing to do with them. So, he sat by himself on a flight of stairs until Ashley went to smoke a smig with him. He says, “I have been waiting her for 26 minutes,” in a stern and pissed off voice. I think she laughed and just said sorry. We ended up going to the bathroom and leaving him at the bar, hence the KFC picture.Sorry again Peta and Alex, we really would have loved to stay and chat with you but it is possible Jacek is a creeper just like Michael Jackson.
June 26th:'Trilla Trilla' is what we hear as we are stealing wifi from our second home outside our local mini mart. Michael Jackson music is playing in every store and everyone is severely disturbed that he died. By the way, a venti coffee here is midget size. I'm pissed. My drive-thru Starbucks on Sierra College will be hearing about this tragic news when I return home.Today we head out of London to Bath. Two days in London was definitely plenty, it felt as if we had already been traveling for two weeks. And the damn funhouse mirrors made us look like we had, too. We searched for our bus stop for a good 2 hours. I am convinced that the number 38 bus does not exist. We checked every bus stop on Piccadilly Circus and it was no where to be found. Also, I am pretty sure Ashley's bag weighs more than a large human. I have decided tonight while she is sleeping I am going to check her bag to make sure she isn't hiding a dead body in there. I think she mentioned she had a deceased relative that really wanted to see Europe. I am on to you Ash. Seriously though, her backpack is like 80 pounds.Anyways, we found a police officer and asked for directions on how to get to Victoria Station, as we decided we would just walk there. Screw the non-existent 38 bus. He then replied, “You're from America, you're rich, take a cab.” If he only knew we mostly have been living off of peanuts and cigarettes the whole trip. He turned out to be from Wales and extremely nice. He gave us directions (Which everyone here gives directions like we actually know where we are going) and we rounded the next corner to begin the journey. Two seconds later we hailed a cab and got in. He then rode his bike around the corner. I think we immediately took the wrong turn and he saw us get in the cab. He told our cab driver in a brilliant accent, “Take good care of these girls.” We must have signs on our foreheads that say’s, “Dumb Americans, please look after them.”The cab driver was soooo nice. And it was definitely about 2 and a half miles to the bus station. I think they get kilometers and miles confused. Or we just think we hear them say miles, whatever. Here is my dumb moment of the whole trip ..................... We barely get out of the cab, meaning Ashley has to scoot her ass on the ground with her body bag on her back, while hitting the roof. She continues to look up at me in pure distress with her eyes begging for help but unfortunately for her, I am an awful person and take great pleasure in these sort of situations. We are standing there paying and the cab driver says, “Make sure you do not leave anything in the cab, the next people will steal it.” We respond that we hadn't and get ready to make our way into the bus station, when he crawls into the back of the cab ... grabs my purse and hands it to me. I have never felt more like a dumb American in my life. Damn it and shut up. Once at the bus station all seemed to be going well. We were standing in line to purchase our tickets when we hear a large African American man yell, “Scoot down!!!!” A woman replies in an English accent, “What?” (If you actually pretend to read it in an English accent, it makes it so much cooler so humor me.)“Scoot down I say!” (ha, you’re totally doing it. Dork.)“Bloody hell, I was standing here the whole time, piss off!” She responds.The man gets extremely angry and is really shouting now, ~“I said scoot down, move down I said now!”My favorite part, the woman replies, “Fuck you, who in the hell do you think you are? How dare you speak to me like that, fuck off. The nerve.~”And just like that, the 6 foot 2 man turns around and shuts up.Unfortunately during this altercation, I realized I am seriously my mother. Ashley is staring directly at the man as he clearly has issues ... I am staring at Ashley trying to get her attention and slyly tell her to stop f'ing staring! Meanwhile, this guy is like three people down from us and I am in panic mode practically convulsing. Not to worry, I had my knife in my pocket and pepper spray in my purse. We are totally safe. ha.We took the Sauna a.k.a. the bus to Bath, I am pretty sure my ass crack was sweating. They really do not believe in air conditioning here. At least the bus driver let us on at 2:30 instead of the 4:30 bus. Sitting in that bus station for two hours would not have been healthy. On the contrary, the ride to Bath was beyond beautiful. I only wanted to punch Ashley in her baby maker a couple of times when she continued to pull the I pod head phone out of my ear while we were sharing them. I told her I was going to take away her music privilege and she then reminded me they were her head phones. Damn. Bath was built by the Romans and is a gorgeous city. Unfortunately, everyone there also dresses amazing and Ash and I resemble bums (The mirrors here are screwed up too). Everyone looks at us with suspicion and stops dead in their tracks when they hear us speak. They are the ones with accents, not us. ha. Our hostel was amazing, it was like a 5 star hotel compared to our last hostel. St. Christopher's Hostel. It had a bar and restaurant downstairs and the employees actually talked to us! Total change from our last shit hole. Basically, we were on cloud 9. Delirious and disgusting looking, I actually did a happy dance up our hostel stairs. (Which Ashley informed me to never do again.) Needless to say, we were stoked! We decided to have a beer or two at the restaurant downstairs. We met two guys Gid and the cop (I can't remember his name). They informed us for two hours how much shit/rubbish/crap Stonehenge is and advised us still to go. This went back and forth for a while. Hilarious. They would start asking random English men what they thought of it and they would all say rubbish. Gid would then turn to us and say, “See! But go, you’ll love it.” (We didn't go). Anyways, all seemed to be going well until ... we went outside to smoke a cigarette. A group of English girls huddled around each other like rabid dogs say, "Look, those are the Americans. I thought they were suppose to be beautiful." Look bitch, first of all ... We are backpacking and wearing our expensive T-Shirts from Target. If we had a straightener/hair dryer/cute shoes/cute shirt/clean shirt for that matter, we would look decent too. Not to mention, the one who said it looked like a mule. I know I know, that is harsh but she can kick rocks. Anyways, we went back inside and drank some more and Gid decided we were all going to go to Moles, a nightclub. (I hate nightclubs). By the way, Europeans dance hilarious. It is like their whole body is convulsing. I mean, I am a really shitty dancer and do my best to refrain but Jesus, they look like they are having a seizure. So, Ashley decides she wants to look like she is having a seizure too. The hell if I am going to dance with her, so I decide without her knowing to ask the only cute bloke we saw if he would like to dance with her. It went something like this, "Excuse me, my friend kind of feels like dancing ... I was wondering if you ..." "No." Okaaaay .... "Well cheers then." And he cheers me back. I turn to the other asshole he was standing next to and say cheers and hold my beer up. He literally turned his head away and ignored me. (They were obviously gay. duh.)My spirits were a little low and my beer fell off the toilet paper roll in the bathroom so that spirit was gone. We decided to leave and left Gid at the bar. (Sorry Gid but pizza at 3 a.m. sounded delicious.) Again, having a “poor us” moment on some steps outside our hostel (while smoking and shoving pizza down our throats) because nobody wants to be our friend, randomly, two good looking guys walk up and start chatting with us. Just like that, our faith in Europe humanity is restored and we are back on the top of our rollercoaster ride.
June 27th:We decided we must be doing something wrong and are just going to say hi to everyone. The only problem is, when they are giving you a look (if they look at us at all) like they just stepped in dog shit, it isn't really enticing to say hi. We walked through a really pretty park and I had a little freak out. I think everything with people hating us may have given me a little panic attack. Let's not talk about it.We tried our converter with Ashley's straightener. She singed her hair. It literally burnt. We possibly ruined her straightener, yet she continued to try and use it even with the sweet aroma of burnt hair filling up our "Chill out lounge". Oh, and we straightened our hair in a reflection of a microwave. (Take that English bitches who were talkin' crap, we are crafty broads!)Finally, a bathroom meeting restores our faith in humanity to the fullest extent! (Shout out to Chelsea and Angela!) We met two girls from Massachusetts who are freakin' rad. It was so nice to be able to relate to fellow Americans who were backpacking as well. Good peeps. They were bunked in our room as well. Then we met Jesse and Rebecca in our room, a couple from Canada who were also rad. (Rebecca, I do not know how you did this for 3 months!) Anyways, we formed our own little posse and went to dinner at an Italian Restaurant. Followed by drinking and more drinking at Balushi‘s, our hostel bar. If we could have stayed in Bath with them another night we totally would have. When 3 am rolled around, we decided pizza was a good idea. So, Chelsea, myself and Ash go get pizza and eat it on some steps. About this time two English guys walk up and one grabs the other ones pants and pulls them down. Nickers and all. Holy Johnson (or lack there of, in one of their cases). Apparently, they really got a rise out of this (ha, not literally) and decided both would join in on letting their junk dangle 3 feet away from our faces. Of course we hopped up for a picture.
June 28th:Took a jet, I mean a cab to the Bristol airport. Our cab driver wasn't quite as nice as the other one and he drove like a bat out of hell. Our hostel in Scotland is really nice as well. Except our first night in our room was an Asian Invasion (sorry Nakasoji :)). I think they thought we were celebrities because they insisted on taking pictures with us. And then ten more when they realized their flash wasn't working. Paparazzi everywhere. We darted out of the room as soon as the photo sess was finished.Also, why does Europe not understand seat covers for toilets? And paper towels?! I need a paper towel to open the door people! And a seat cover so I don’t contract Gonasipaherpalades!The first 5 minutes we are at our hostel, we decide to go outside for a smoke. A wee little Scottish man walks up with a can of fosters and tiny smoke in hand,"How much?"Our response, "Ummm, what?" (The accent makes them a little hard to understand)"How much?""For what?" We reply."Sex" he says. "Oh, no no no. ummm." At this moment, we both look down at what we are wearing and seriously considered if we looked like prostitutes, not joking.He starts laughing hysterically and starts walking away. "Just messin' with ya's. Have a good day."Now, this is where guys probably want to stop reading if you think that girls don't pee and do other natural bodily functions ... although, if you are one of those guys I probably don't talk to you anyways, so anywho ... The first day of Scotland I start my period. Awesome. Just what I need when we are backpacking and sharing community toilets. Not to mention the lovely cramps. I think I already used up the whole bottle of Tylenol. But it gets worse, I am attempting to do my hair (with no blow dryer) when I see a little glisten of shine on the top of my head ... "Ash. Aaaash? AAAASH!" She finally rounds the corner, "Dude, is that a gray hair?" Oh, the trauma. It is really setting in now, Pouty lip and all. Ash: "Um, ya Sum, I think it is." "Noooo! It can't be, it's blond right?"Ash: "Oh yeah, yeah ... It is blond.""You're lying. But I love you."I plucked that bitch right out of my head and sure enough ... gray. My life is over. Beer was now instantly necessary, so we went to the Castle of Arms pub where we met a couple from Michigan. We seriously talked their ears off, I actually feel bad for them. We were so hoping they were going to be like our posse back in Bath. We were poorly mistaken. When we went to use the bathroom, they informed us they had to go and made a run for it. I would have too. That night we met some girls from Australia that live in our hostel, in fact, some of them have lived there for three years! When they shouted "phone box party" Ash and I were looking around a little skeptical. Until, all six of them went into a tiny phone booth and we saw the whole thing fill up with white smoke. Then we realized they were "hot boxing" the phone booth.
June 29th:Ashley started her period! Ha, Sucka. She had just had it two weeks prior, we have that affect on each other.We went to dinner at a really good Thai Restaurant and who do we see walk in? The poor couple from Michigan. Embarrassed as hell, we ducked our heads out of the restaurant when we finished eating and gave a subtle wave. Like dogs with our tails between our legs, we felt like idiots. We went out with Sat and his brother, I can't remember his name but I know it was something like Sugar. So, we went out with Sat and Sugar. And really, that is all I remember about that night and all I have written down in my notes on my phone. Wait, it is starting to come back to me sort of like flashes of a bad horror film. I recall taking shots of sambuca (the only shots they take over there and they taste like black licorice if you were wondering) with a local Scottish girl. I remember her informing me she had to go so she could go shag her boyfriend. I remember we were suppose to go to a cemetery but when we stopped at the hostel to pee, I informed Ashley just how wasted I was. Apparently, I have an uncanny ability to play off being sober when I am completely not. Make of it what you will. I ended up in my lower bunk eating peanuts while Ashley went down stairs and told them I felt sick.
June 30th:So hungover. Ill is an understatement. This was the kind of hungover, where you say you are never going to drink again and actually think you mean it. We had to take a shower up stairs because ours was closed. For fifteen minutes straight the shower went from scalding hot to ice cold, over and over. I attempted for the fist five minutes out of the fifteen to jump in when the water seemed to be the right temperature (for two seconds). The remainder of the fifteen minutes, I stood to the side naked, making a pouty face trying to yell for Ash in the shower down. Finally, the water went normal temperature and I just had to deal with the standing water at my feet and the smell of piss. When I got out of the shower (still hungover) Ash says,"Sum, you have something in your hair."I look in the mirror and grab at the glob that appears to be face wash. To my dismay, it was not. It was a booger. I am still praying it was my own and really that is all I can write about that before I lose my coffee I just drank.We walked all over Scotland and up to a beautiful castle. Finally, the hangover started to dwindle after walking 287 stairs to the top of some monument. (I will write what everything was later)Ashley was on the phone calling her bank because they continuously shut off her card for making odd transactions, when she caught me doing something I have sworn I would never do. If you know my mother, you will understand what I am talking about. While she was speaking to the lady on the phone ... I was mouthing her words, silently ... just like my mother. I am my mother reincarnated. I was so pissed at myself for doing it, yet we could not stop laughing while she was trying to talk to the woman on the phone and continued laughing about it for twenty minutes.We went on an underground city haunted tour which was fun. Learned a lot about the history of Scotland.Went to a bar called Whistle Binkies and met two guards for the Queen! Anne, myself, Ash and April all took pictures with them. This time Ash was the drunk one and when we returned to our hostel, she spent a good twenty minutes downstairs flirting with the front desk guy from Canada. God only knows what she said to him. Meanwhile back at the ranch, I am in my bed still in the jeans from that day (actually the same jeans of like 3 days) because it was too much effort to try and find my pajama pants. Ashley finally knocks on the door and I let her in. She then proceeds to crumple her Dorito's cool ranch chip bag in her top bunk while chomping and crunching chips at 5 am with fifteen other sleeping roommates. Needless to say, they adored us.
July 1st: I think this is where deliriousness sets in. Everything is hysterical and we burst out in laughter by merely looking at each other. On this day, I realized that my leg hair is possibly growing through my pant legs and it is quite possible they are becoming one since I have now been wearing them for over four days ... give or take. Most likely, take.We make it onto the upper decker bus, where Ashley decides she is going to invade my personal space. She damn well knows that when I motion with my hand that there is a barrier between us, she is not to cross it. She did not abide by the rules, what so ever. She calls this my conditioning, apparently I have some weird "phobia's" (She just informed me) that she feels she needs to break. (Yeah, it is called leave me the F alone, I need personal space ... A.k.a. get the hell out of my bubble.) Anyways, she starts poking me. The threats of me breaking her finger did not get across. Now this may be one of those things where you had to be there, but it was hilarious. I punch her smack in the thigh, stunning her in her tracks. She turns and looks at me, shaking her fist up in the air and says, "Oh, you wanna get rough?"Now, if you know Ash, there is no way in hell she can even attempt to get rough. We both laughed hysterically for the rest of the bus ride and I took my bubble back. Success!On another note, did I mention that when the customs guy harassed me I was sweating like a whore in Church? (Oh my Gosh, that is so something my mother would say ... AAAHH!)Anyways, after a sixteen hour plane ride I was already smelling pretty ripe. It seems that during the harassment, the sweat dripping from my armpits soaked into the piece of shit little backpack I bought. Now the nylon straps of my day travel pack has an odor worse than the man who sat next to me on the first flight. When ever I have to carry it around (I should say pinch it by the safest spot with two fingers) we are constantly looking at each other and smelling our armpits, only to be reminded by the dreaded bag. I swear it is not us. Another dumb Ashley moment:We are sitting in the airport (after we both get the random security check) in Edinburgh and a soldier happens to be in the proximity. Ashley: "Oh, look their is an American Soldier."Myself: "Uh, why is he an American soldier?"Ashley: "Oh, I was thinking that only American soldiers wear camouflage?"Jesus.Belfast Ireland:First things first, it smells like cow shit. We made it to our hostel no problem and we're so happy to find they tried to put us in an already full room. Because! They put us in our own private room! We actually have privacy! This called for another victory dance and high squeaky voices! I washed my feet in our private room sink and I think I transferred the HIV from my feet to my hands.We spent a quiet night in and read our books to celebrate the moment.
July 2nd:We actually are doing laundry! We met a hot Australian guy named Nick who lived at the hostel. We know each other so well, we don’t even have to verbalize that we think he is hot, we both just get this stupid ass giddy smile on our faces and know what the other one is thinking. Then he opened his mouth. I retract the previous statement, he is no longer hot. He was good for something though, he gave us a straightener and blow dryer to use. (Ashley totally stole the straightener, she is going to kill me for saying that! You are such a sinner Ash.) The turn of events of this night went something like this ...We went to the Pub.Lesson # 1: Never drink when you have not eaten anything all day.Suddenly, Ash and I are feeling a little tipsy and decide we are going to walk across the street to Spuds for a chicken salad wrap. When JJ (the manager of the hostel) walks up, hands us a bag and says we owe him a drink. He must have known our stomachs were eating our underwear because he brought us a chicken salad wrap from spuds, which we mowed down. We proceeded to drink more and people watch as individuals walked to our seating area. Not only was everyone smoking weed, including the bouncers but people were just coming outside to do coke. A little weird. We then opted to go pee and ditch everyone for another Spuds chicken salad wrap, that we ate in our private room.Knock Knock! "Lesbians?!" (This is what JJ the manager calls us, in fact he yells this from the bottom of the four flights of stairs, I am sure everyone in the hostel thinks we are lesbians.)We are both scrambling, as we know, he knows we are in there. But once you reach that drunk point where all you want to do is eat and go to sleep, you really just don't want to be bothered. Not to mention, we were both already in our separate beds with no pants on because the damn dryer didn't dry our pajamas in time. (Which I am sure looks really good since he already calls us lesbians.) So we both get up and put on jeans to open the door."Get your asses up and come down stairs and drink with us."Ash and I, "Uh yeah, okay ... Let us just eat our chicken salad wraps though." (Total lie, but in situations like this, one finds themselves saying anything so they can eat.)He leaves.We begin to inhale our wraps and are almost done when ... Knock, Knock."Hey lesbians?" (Now I am positive that everyone on our floor and the floor below us, actually thinks we are lesbians by now.)I guess we didn't shut our door all the way because he pushes it open."Noooo!" And I do a flying leap out of bed, bare ass cheeks and all to shut the door in his face. Again, we put on our jeans and open the door.Irritable, "Yes, JJ."JJ, "Are you guys coming downstairs?"Ash and myself, "Honestly, we are so tired we are just going to go to bed."He goes on jabbering about how he never does this, blah blah blah, asks what we want for breakfast (our reply was coffee) and that he will see us in the morning (more like afternoon.)VICTORY!
July 3rd:Lesson # 1: Relearn previous lesson number 1.We were suppose to leave for Dublin today but apparently JJ the hostel manager has a bit of a crush or something on me. So, he is letting us stay in our hostel for free. And, we seem to really enjoy Belfast so it is not such a bad thing. Sure enough some time around 2 pm, JJ brings us our Starbucks Iced two pump vanilla Latte and iced Soy Chai.He proceeds to tell us to get ready because himself and Nick (the at one time hot guy but then spoke) are taking us out to do some "tourist shit".We walked around the town of Belfast and went to a really old cemetery which was awesome. Many of the hunger strikers are buried there and most of the IRA soldiers.It was actually really interesting learning all about the history of Ireland. (Apart from avoiding JJ's adoring gaze or casually trying to brush up against me.)Later that night we went bowling with a group of Irish people which was fun. Ashley and I really suck at bowling apparently. We will blame it on the fact of unfamiliarity of our surroundings.Ended up at the same pub. Watched everyone do bumps and smoke weed, again.Ditched everyone at the bar and went to Spuds ... again.This time, we sat outside on the stairs down from our hostel smoking cigs and having our usual heart to heart conversations. When Ashley goes quiet as a mouse because she has spotted JJ. Shit! I am entirely not in the mood to deal with this at the moment. As soon as they walk around the corner, we try to sneak up the front stairs. Only to be caught like a deer in a headlight through the side window of the hostel. Damn it. Oh well, we book it to the bathroom and then to our rooms. Another sweet, sweet victory.
July 4th:Knock, Knock! "Lesbians!" "Whaaaat?""Get up, you are switching rooms."Grrrreat. This is what happens when you don't sleep with the manager and continuously blow him off. You get demoted to a room with a door that is the right size for a leprecon.Oh our room ... It is still private. And a box. It is probably the size of my closet. We have been demoted. Victory no longer prevails.I was told that if you bring a book to read with you while you are traveling, it helps to give you a sense of home. A way to block everyone else out. I cried for two hours in our box of a room today when I finished reading My Sister's Keeper. Really great idea. I guess they should have specified what kind of book to read. I think something like Twilight would have been a much better choice.JJ didn’t speak to us for the majority of the day, he was pissed we ditched him at the bar again. I started to feel a little guilty so I made nice by saying we would cook dinner the next night for him and the other guys. This seemed to lighten his mood; however, I think he realized he was never going to get in my pants because this is the day the extremely crude comments and gestures started to come into play. He was disgusting, ask Ashley. Well, we didn’t celebrate to 4th too much, we just hung out outside with a bunch of people while having a few beers. We have a tour to go on tomorrow at 8:30 am, so we tried to keep it pretty chill.
July 5th:Beep, Beep, Beep. Shit! It is 8:25 am and the “Paddywagon” tour bus leaves at 8:30. We are never going to make it. I turn off the alarm and roll over as Ashley, bummed as ever, gets out of bed to go pee. Damn it, I mutter to myself and jump out of bed feeling too guilty to sleep and throw on my dirty jeans. I scramble for some deodorant and cake it on as I am running out of our box.“Ash? ASH!”I spot her coming from the kitchen and yell at her to get ready. We are going on this damn tour even if we look like shit, we have the whole time anyways! She looks at me like she is in shock and she cannot believe I got out of bed. Apparently, she had rationed that she would make toast with jam since we didn’t get to go on the tour and that would make her feel better. She ran upstairs and put on jeans as well (but forgot deodorant.) We run out the side door to the bus and Ashley yells, “I left toast in the toaster.” And we were off.We groggily road the bus to the Giants Causeway and the Larrybane bridge. But the best part was definitely going to Derry and drinking with the local old men.We returned home and made tacos. To say I wanted to kill JJ would be an understatement. Every time I bent over he was doing some disgusting thing behind my back. I finally held up the knife I was cutting the chicken with and told him to get the hell out of the kitchen.
July 6th:We leave today to catch our flight in Shannon to go to London. Shannon is roughly seven hours away from where we are in Belfast so we had to wake up at 5:30 am. Plus, we really wanted to get out of there before JJ woke up, we seem to be making a pattern out of ditching guys without saying anything so we might as well keep it going. At 5:45 am my phone rings. It is my mother calling to make sure I am getting up. Such a gem.We get a cab from Starbucks which doesn’t open until 7 am by the way and have him take us to the bus station.Bus ride to Dublin: 3 ½ hours and we both have to pee.Bus ride from Dublin to Limerick: 4 hours.In Limerick we print our Ryan Air Itinerary at a wifi café, so we wouldn’t have to pay more once we got there. (You’ll see why this is relevant to add in a moment.)Bus ride from Limerick to Shannon Airport: 45 minutes. At the ticket booth she informs us it will be 40 additional pounds because we were actually suppose to check in online and print the boarding pass. ($80.00 more dollars, awesome) She also informs Ashley that her bag weighs too much and she will have to throw things away. I actually saw a side of Ashley I wouldn’t want to mess with, she was pissed.Plane ride from Shannon to Gatwick London Airport: 1 hour 15 minutes.65 pound Taxi ride ($130.00) from airport to hotel: 45 minutes Finally got to bed at 1 am.
July 7th:July 7th will forever go down as the day from hell in my book.Ashley’s card wouldn’t work AGAIN, and I only had enough pounds for my bus ride so we had to take separate buses to the airport. We didn’t even get to say bye to each other in person L.I was at the airport almost four hours before my plane left and the lack of sleep plus half a Zanex I took that morning was really starting to take its toll on me. Let me explain this day readers digest version:My plane to Philadelphia was an hour late taking off from Heathrow London Airport. After being on the plane for 8 hours, we then circle the Philadelphia Airport for 4o minutes due to a thunder storm causing delays in landing.I originally had an hour and a half to go through customs, pick up and recheck my bag and catch my plane. We landed at 5:15 and my plane departs at 5:55 pm. I booked it through customs, ran with my backpack on my back and rechecked it.Literally sprinted, what should have been a 25 minute walk to the other side of the airport in 7 minutes. Arrived at the terminal at 6:10 pm and threw my ticket on the counter. Out of breath, with sweat pouring I manage to say, “Did I make it?”The woman looks at me frazzled and glances at my ticket, “Nope.”You have got to be joking me. I am now freaking out because the flight attendant on the plane told me that this was the last flight into San Francisco for the night. The hell if I am staying here over night, want to freakin’ go home now! (Do you know who I am?! I am the mayor of Penryn, damn it!)I start crying. I can see the plane but the walkway is taken away so she won’t let me on it.If you know me well, then you know I hate crying and avoid it at all costs. But it is like 5 a.m. for me and the flood gates open, apparently I needed a good cry.She has me get on a plane to L.A. where I will then have to catch another plane to San Fran.I continue to cry into my sweatshirt once I am on the plane for a good thirty minutes. I brought a whole new description to the “poor me” party.Luckily, in LA we were early so when I ran to a terminal that was leaving for Sacramento, I was able to get on. In fact, I was the last person on and flew standby with one seat left. Thank you little baby golden Jesus, I will tell you right now if I had to go all the way over to the other side of the airport to catch the plane to SF, I would have given up on life.When Anne picked me up from the airport at 11:08 pm I could have cried tears of joy.
July 8th:Home!One step at a time.Woke up at 6:30 am.I feel like I got hit by a mack truck and our attempt to come back frail, skinny, anorexic looking bitches did not seem to work out. What did happen though, is my ass increased, my bust decreased and I weigh the exact same amount. Flying must add air weight. I shaved my legs and it looked like someone shaved there head in my bathtub.I finally tweezed my eyebrows which took a good two hours. (taking breaks and giving up in between)I am pretty sure I am experiencing extreme hair loss, that or it has just been a really long time since I have brushed my hair.My Schick Quatro brand new razor is now the Schick Zero.But I am squeaky clean, finally dressed and ready to go pick up my bag that finally made it to Sacramento Airport and it is only 6 pm. Progress.In closing, all I can proudly say is … “I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free and I won’t forget the man who died to duh duh duh duh duh, And I proudly stand up next to you hmm hmmm.” So proud that I’ll learn the words to this song later. Good Day.
June 23rd:Note to self- Never fly on planes with children. Ever! Is it really possible for a child to scream for five hours straight? I'm considering yelling to his mother, to shut her f'ing kid up. I also am considering slyly taking a seat behind the little monster and threatening to throw him out the window. No wonder mothers get post partum depression with a crumb snatcher like that. I literally had to walk a mile to catch my plane in Philadelphia, I barely made it! Actually, let me rephrase that; I literally had to run a mile to catch my plane and I barely made it. Luckily, the plane ride to London I sat next to a huge African American man, who did not seem to understand the idea of personal space. Every time I would move my arm off of the communal arm rest and on to my side of the seat, he would invade my space even more by touching my arm. Not to mention as we were taking off, he was kissing his cross and saying prayers. I was sure the plane was going down. The plane to Philadelphia ... the guy next to me had the worst body odor ever. Awesome! Once my senses became accustom to the odor, it wasn’t so bad.
June 24th:Oh customs man, how you must love your job. Harassing innocent girls whom can barely understand what the hell you are saying, what a thrill! he asks me, “Do you have a copy of your return ticket home?”My response, “Uh, noooo.” I'm thinking, crap ... Why would I have to make a copy of my return ticket home? He harasses me for about thirty minutes, asking me where I am going? Wanting to know the addresses of each hotel (Which Ashley had and was on a separate flight). Moral of the story, I was sweating so bad and was so nervous I could barely answer him. It is a wonder he didn't send me back. He proceeds to ask me what I want to see while I am in Europe. I might as well have been stroking out. I could not think of anything I wanted to see besides Stonehenge. This was not a good enough answer for the little bastard. Finally, at the end of the harassment he say's “Here is why I am asking you so many questions, you do not have any proof you are returning home” ... I cut him off here, “I have a copy of my itinerary” ... I have never gotten a dirtier look (I'll retract this statement later in the trip) in my life. It took Ashley two hours to find me. She had to take the subway, a bus and I do not even know what else because I was sitting by myself in shock, still trying to calm down from my customs asshole. Sitting in a chair all by myself frazzled, I am considering clicking my heels together muttering, “There is no place like home.” Then I realize my Toto (Roanan) is no where to be found. A failed attempt at trying to return to P-Town, Dorothy style. We’re not in Penryn anymore Roanie. Then, it took us an hour and a half and three cigarettes to find the underground subway. We went up the same escalator three times. Ashley almost fell over backwards with her backpack on, I think I peed a little.We may have gotten a little lost once we got off the underground and tried to find our hostel in London but no big deal. We really didn't care about that part after the six flights of stairs up to our room. The hostel was ... a rat hole. Neither of us had ever stayed in a hostel before and I prayed it would get better. Later that day, after our four hour nap ... we decide to go get some food. We stop at an amazing Mediterranean Bistro and had a fantastic meal. The guys were so nice they gave us two bottles of wine for free and took 10 percent off of our ticket. Later, they proposed with gummy rings. So I guess we are engaged. Except, Ashley ate hers. And then the second one he gave her too.We sat outside the restaurant and had a cigarette, when two gay guys walk up and strike up conversation. They ask us if we would like to go to an ubergay bar? We asked what it was and he asked us if we knew why they called it ubergay? Ashley's response, “Because it's uber gay?” Sounded good to me. They then informed us they would be attending a “massage party” afterward and what time we would like to meet up? We politely declined, although I think Ashley really wanted to go.After going to a night club and drinking more, we finally made it back to our hostel where we slept in the same single bed. I hate cuddling but it was better than risking catching the HIV in my own bunk. jk
June 25th-Construction started (I mean jackhammers and heavy machinery) at 7 am outside our window. Somehow, we still managed to sleep till 2 pm. It was necessary, end of story. When Ashley woke up sometime between 7 am and 2 pm to resituate herself, she opened her eyes only to find our hostel roommate sitting up in the adjacent bed, roughly two feet away and staring directly at her. Ashley then realized she had been watching her sleep. Ashley said “Hey” awkwardly, and then rolled over towards me. When she informed me of this later … I think I peed a lot.Today Ashley and I somehow got on the topic of the Genus Book of World Records. Ashley then turns and says, “Did you know my mom was in the Genus Book of World Records for the longest tongue?” I ponder this for a moment. “When did she tell you that?”Nonchalantly she responds, “Oh, I don’t know, I think I was about eight.”“Did you ever think she was joking? I mean, if she had the longest tongue in the world … I would think it would be hard to speak. I have had many conversations with Mamma Donna. Did you ever ask her again?”Typical Ashley response, “No, I just believed her and I have thought that she was in there ever since.”“Have you ever seen the book she is in? I mean, if I were in there, I would definitely own the book.”Ashley, “Yeah, you’re right. No, I have never seen it. Huh, I’ll have to ask her.”Dear Ashley Coons,I admire your sense of adolescence and ability to believe everything you hear without second guessing it; however, you may be the only person who can shock me and humble me at the same time. In conclusion, I am worried about you. Good day.Respectfully,Summer Dales The coffee at the coffee shop was pre-made, I literally had to pick a cup with no ice out of a fridge and she added ice to it. Nothing in London is cold and you always get two ice cubes in everything. I don't think we have ever wanted an ice water more in our lives. Did I mention everyone is dressed amazing? Jeans and T-shirts really don't cut it. Also, I think there is something wrong with the mirrors here. I am pretty sure all of Europe has mirrors similar to a funhouse at a fair where they make your body look distorted. Except, funny … when you look in these ones, they just make you look like shit and a haggard bum. Somehow, Europe had the same affect on our cameras because we clearly look like shit in all of our pictures as well. Weird. I had my first experience with a 'foul awful' or falafel. disgusting. We went to St. James Park, lovely.St. Stevens Castle.Witnessed a drug deal between a business man and two Jamaican guys, who then turned to us and said, “You did not see anything.”We had the worst Indian food ever at Cafe Mumbai. I'll be sending my review to the London Times when I return to the states. The stupid little man who hustled us in was going to charge Ashley 4 pounds for a side of hot sauce ($8.00). F that. But the food was so bad, we really debated it for the rest of the meal. After our horrific dinner and our daily dose of stealing wifi from our local mini-mart, we were having a “poor me” session while sitting outside a pub by ourselves, drinking our Stella's. The best thing about Ashley and I, is that we are always on the same page. When one is feeling down, we both are. This was constant throughout the trip. However, this “poor me” session came on due to trying to talk to a group of local guys and being completely shut down. At this moment, it was entirely necessary for a “poor us”. We just wanted to make friends (I realize that sounds as if we are in first grade but it was “poor us” session, not yours). During our funk, a Polish guy turns to us in pure distress and says in an accent, “Michael Jackson has died! Oh my God, can I sit down?”Really, I didn't care about the news, but his response was hilarious. You would have thought he was his brother. He went on over and over about how much he hates Britain and how great Americans are. He insisted we go to a club with him as he was so happy to meet us. We ended up talking to two other guys we met who were really cool (Alex and Peter … or Peta as I like to say it) and he wanted nothing to do with them. So, he sat by himself on a flight of stairs until Ashley went to smoke a smig with him. He says, “I have been waiting her for 26 minutes,” in a stern and pissed off voice. I think she laughed and just said sorry. We ended up going to the bathroom and leaving him at the bar, hence the KFC picture.Sorry again Peta and Alex, we really would have loved to stay and chat with you but it is possible Jacek is a creeper just like Michael Jackson.
June 26th:'Trilla Trilla' is what we hear as we are stealing wifi from our second home outside our local mini mart. Michael Jackson music is playing in every store and everyone is severely disturbed that he died. By the way, a venti coffee here is midget size. I'm pissed. My drive-thru Starbucks on Sierra College will be hearing about this tragic news when I return home.Today we head out of London to Bath. Two days in London was definitely plenty, it felt as if we had already been traveling for two weeks. And the damn funhouse mirrors made us look like we had, too. We searched for our bus stop for a good 2 hours. I am convinced that the number 38 bus does not exist. We checked every bus stop on Piccadilly Circus and it was no where to be found. Also, I am pretty sure Ashley's bag weighs more than a large human. I have decided tonight while she is sleeping I am going to check her bag to make sure she isn't hiding a dead body in there. I think she mentioned she had a deceased relative that really wanted to see Europe. I am on to you Ash. Seriously though, her backpack is like 80 pounds.Anyways, we found a police officer and asked for directions on how to get to Victoria Station, as we decided we would just walk there. Screw the non-existent 38 bus. He then replied, “You're from America, you're rich, take a cab.” If he only knew we mostly have been living off of peanuts and cigarettes the whole trip. He turned out to be from Wales and extremely nice. He gave us directions (Which everyone here gives directions like we actually know where we are going) and we rounded the next corner to begin the journey. Two seconds later we hailed a cab and got in. He then rode his bike around the corner. I think we immediately took the wrong turn and he saw us get in the cab. He told our cab driver in a brilliant accent, “Take good care of these girls.” We must have signs on our foreheads that say’s, “Dumb Americans, please look after them.”The cab driver was soooo nice. And it was definitely about 2 and a half miles to the bus station. I think they get kilometers and miles confused. Or we just think we hear them say miles, whatever. Here is my dumb moment of the whole trip ..................... We barely get out of the cab, meaning Ashley has to scoot her ass on the ground with her body bag on her back, while hitting the roof. She continues to look up at me in pure distress with her eyes begging for help but unfortunately for her, I am an awful person and take great pleasure in these sort of situations. We are standing there paying and the cab driver says, “Make sure you do not leave anything in the cab, the next people will steal it.” We respond that we hadn't and get ready to make our way into the bus station, when he crawls into the back of the cab ... grabs my purse and hands it to me. I have never felt more like a dumb American in my life. Damn it and shut up. Once at the bus station all seemed to be going well. We were standing in line to purchase our tickets when we hear a large African American man yell, “Scoot down!!!!” A woman replies in an English accent, “What?” (If you actually pretend to read it in an English accent, it makes it so much cooler so humor me.)“Scoot down I say!” (ha, you’re totally doing it. Dork.)“Bloody hell, I was standing here the whole time, piss off!” She responds.The man gets extremely angry and is really shouting now, ~“I said scoot down, move down I said now!”My favorite part, the woman replies, “Fuck you, who in the hell do you think you are? How dare you speak to me like that, fuck off. The nerve.~”And just like that, the 6 foot 2 man turns around and shuts up.Unfortunately during this altercation, I realized I am seriously my mother. Ashley is staring directly at the man as he clearly has issues ... I am staring at Ashley trying to get her attention and slyly tell her to stop f'ing staring! Meanwhile, this guy is like three people down from us and I am in panic mode practically convulsing. Not to worry, I had my knife in my pocket and pepper spray in my purse. We are totally safe. ha.We took the Sauna a.k.a. the bus to Bath, I am pretty sure my ass crack was sweating. They really do not believe in air conditioning here. At least the bus driver let us on at 2:30 instead of the 4:30 bus. Sitting in that bus station for two hours would not have been healthy. On the contrary, the ride to Bath was beyond beautiful. I only wanted to punch Ashley in her baby maker a couple of times when she continued to pull the I pod head phone out of my ear while we were sharing them. I told her I was going to take away her music privilege and she then reminded me they were her head phones. Damn. Bath was built by the Romans and is a gorgeous city. Unfortunately, everyone there also dresses amazing and Ash and I resemble bums (The mirrors here are screwed up too). Everyone looks at us with suspicion and stops dead in their tracks when they hear us speak. They are the ones with accents, not us. ha. Our hostel was amazing, it was like a 5 star hotel compared to our last hostel. St. Christopher's Hostel. It had a bar and restaurant downstairs and the employees actually talked to us! Total change from our last shit hole. Basically, we were on cloud 9. Delirious and disgusting looking, I actually did a happy dance up our hostel stairs. (Which Ashley informed me to never do again.) Needless to say, we were stoked! We decided to have a beer or two at the restaurant downstairs. We met two guys Gid and the cop (I can't remember his name). They informed us for two hours how much shit/rubbish/crap Stonehenge is and advised us still to go. This went back and forth for a while. Hilarious. They would start asking random English men what they thought of it and they would all say rubbish. Gid would then turn to us and say, “See! But go, you’ll love it.” (We didn't go). Anyways, all seemed to be going well until ... we went outside to smoke a cigarette. A group of English girls huddled around each other like rabid dogs say, "Look, those are the Americans. I thought they were suppose to be beautiful." Look bitch, first of all ... We are backpacking and wearing our expensive T-Shirts from Target. If we had a straightener/hair dryer/cute shoes/cute shirt/clean shirt for that matter, we would look decent too. Not to mention, the one who said it looked like a mule. I know I know, that is harsh but she can kick rocks. Anyways, we went back inside and drank some more and Gid decided we were all going to go to Moles, a nightclub. (I hate nightclubs). By the way, Europeans dance hilarious. It is like their whole body is convulsing. I mean, I am a really shitty dancer and do my best to refrain but Jesus, they look like they are having a seizure. So, Ashley decides she wants to look like she is having a seizure too. The hell if I am going to dance with her, so I decide without her knowing to ask the only cute bloke we saw if he would like to dance with her. It went something like this, "Excuse me, my friend kind of feels like dancing ... I was wondering if you ..." "No." Okaaaay .... "Well cheers then." And he cheers me back. I turn to the other asshole he was standing next to and say cheers and hold my beer up. He literally turned his head away and ignored me. (They were obviously gay. duh.)My spirits were a little low and my beer fell off the toilet paper roll in the bathroom so that spirit was gone. We decided to leave and left Gid at the bar. (Sorry Gid but pizza at 3 a.m. sounded delicious.) Again, having a “poor us” moment on some steps outside our hostel (while smoking and shoving pizza down our throats) because nobody wants to be our friend, randomly, two good looking guys walk up and start chatting with us. Just like that, our faith in Europe humanity is restored and we are back on the top of our rollercoaster ride.
June 27th:We decided we must be doing something wrong and are just going to say hi to everyone. The only problem is, when they are giving you a look (if they look at us at all) like they just stepped in dog shit, it isn't really enticing to say hi. We walked through a really pretty park and I had a little freak out. I think everything with people hating us may have given me a little panic attack. Let's not talk about it.We tried our converter with Ashley's straightener. She singed her hair. It literally burnt. We possibly ruined her straightener, yet she continued to try and use it even with the sweet aroma of burnt hair filling up our "Chill out lounge". Oh, and we straightened our hair in a reflection of a microwave. (Take that English bitches who were talkin' crap, we are crafty broads!)Finally, a bathroom meeting restores our faith in humanity to the fullest extent! (Shout out to Chelsea and Angela!) We met two girls from Massachusetts who are freakin' rad. It was so nice to be able to relate to fellow Americans who were backpacking as well. Good peeps. They were bunked in our room as well. Then we met Jesse and Rebecca in our room, a couple from Canada who were also rad. (Rebecca, I do not know how you did this for 3 months!) Anyways, we formed our own little posse and went to dinner at an Italian Restaurant. Followed by drinking and more drinking at Balushi‘s, our hostel bar. If we could have stayed in Bath with them another night we totally would have. When 3 am rolled around, we decided pizza was a good idea. So, Chelsea, myself and Ash go get pizza and eat it on some steps. About this time two English guys walk up and one grabs the other ones pants and pulls them down. Nickers and all. Holy Johnson (or lack there of, in one of their cases). Apparently, they really got a rise out of this (ha, not literally) and decided both would join in on letting their junk dangle 3 feet away from our faces. Of course we hopped up for a picture.
June 28th:Took a jet, I mean a cab to the Bristol airport. Our cab driver wasn't quite as nice as the other one and he drove like a bat out of hell. Our hostel in Scotland is really nice as well. Except our first night in our room was an Asian Invasion (sorry Nakasoji :)). I think they thought we were celebrities because they insisted on taking pictures with us. And then ten more when they realized their flash wasn't working. Paparazzi everywhere. We darted out of the room as soon as the photo sess was finished.Also, why does Europe not understand seat covers for toilets? And paper towels?! I need a paper towel to open the door people! And a seat cover so I don’t contract Gonasipaherpalades!The first 5 minutes we are at our hostel, we decide to go outside for a smoke. A wee little Scottish man walks up with a can of fosters and tiny smoke in hand,"How much?"Our response, "Ummm, what?" (The accent makes them a little hard to understand)"How much?""For what?" We reply."Sex" he says. "Oh, no no no. ummm." At this moment, we both look down at what we are wearing and seriously considered if we looked like prostitutes, not joking.He starts laughing hysterically and starts walking away. "Just messin' with ya's. Have a good day."Now, this is where guys probably want to stop reading if you think that girls don't pee and do other natural bodily functions ... although, if you are one of those guys I probably don't talk to you anyways, so anywho ... The first day of Scotland I start my period. Awesome. Just what I need when we are backpacking and sharing community toilets. Not to mention the lovely cramps. I think I already used up the whole bottle of Tylenol. But it gets worse, I am attempting to do my hair (with no blow dryer) when I see a little glisten of shine on the top of my head ... "Ash. Aaaash? AAAASH!" She finally rounds the corner, "Dude, is that a gray hair?" Oh, the trauma. It is really setting in now, Pouty lip and all. Ash: "Um, ya Sum, I think it is." "Noooo! It can't be, it's blond right?"Ash: "Oh yeah, yeah ... It is blond.""You're lying. But I love you."I plucked that bitch right out of my head and sure enough ... gray. My life is over. Beer was now instantly necessary, so we went to the Castle of Arms pub where we met a couple from Michigan. We seriously talked their ears off, I actually feel bad for them. We were so hoping they were going to be like our posse back in Bath. We were poorly mistaken. When we went to use the bathroom, they informed us they had to go and made a run for it. I would have too. That night we met some girls from Australia that live in our hostel, in fact, some of them have lived there for three years! When they shouted "phone box party" Ash and I were looking around a little skeptical. Until, all six of them went into a tiny phone booth and we saw the whole thing fill up with white smoke. Then we realized they were "hot boxing" the phone booth.
June 29th:Ashley started her period! Ha, Sucka. She had just had it two weeks prior, we have that affect on each other.We went to dinner at a really good Thai Restaurant and who do we see walk in? The poor couple from Michigan. Embarrassed as hell, we ducked our heads out of the restaurant when we finished eating and gave a subtle wave. Like dogs with our tails between our legs, we felt like idiots. We went out with Sat and his brother, I can't remember his name but I know it was something like Sugar. So, we went out with Sat and Sugar. And really, that is all I remember about that night and all I have written down in my notes on my phone. Wait, it is starting to come back to me sort of like flashes of a bad horror film. I recall taking shots of sambuca (the only shots they take over there and they taste like black licorice if you were wondering) with a local Scottish girl. I remember her informing me she had to go so she could go shag her boyfriend. I remember we were suppose to go to a cemetery but when we stopped at the hostel to pee, I informed Ashley just how wasted I was. Apparently, I have an uncanny ability to play off being sober when I am completely not. Make of it what you will. I ended up in my lower bunk eating peanuts while Ashley went down stairs and told them I felt sick.
June 30th:So hungover. Ill is an understatement. This was the kind of hungover, where you say you are never going to drink again and actually think you mean it. We had to take a shower up stairs because ours was closed. For fifteen minutes straight the shower went from scalding hot to ice cold, over and over. I attempted for the fist five minutes out of the fifteen to jump in when the water seemed to be the right temperature (for two seconds). The remainder of the fifteen minutes, I stood to the side naked, making a pouty face trying to yell for Ash in the shower down. Finally, the water went normal temperature and I just had to deal with the standing water at my feet and the smell of piss. When I got out of the shower (still hungover) Ash says,"Sum, you have something in your hair."I look in the mirror and grab at the glob that appears to be face wash. To my dismay, it was not. It was a booger. I am still praying it was my own and really that is all I can write about that before I lose my coffee I just drank.We walked all over Scotland and up to a beautiful castle. Finally, the hangover started to dwindle after walking 287 stairs to the top of some monument. (I will write what everything was later)Ashley was on the phone calling her bank because they continuously shut off her card for making odd transactions, when she caught me doing something I have sworn I would never do. If you know my mother, you will understand what I am talking about. While she was speaking to the lady on the phone ... I was mouthing her words, silently ... just like my mother. I am my mother reincarnated. I was so pissed at myself for doing it, yet we could not stop laughing while she was trying to talk to the woman on the phone and continued laughing about it for twenty minutes.We went on an underground city haunted tour which was fun. Learned a lot about the history of Scotland.Went to a bar called Whistle Binkies and met two guards for the Queen! Anne, myself, Ash and April all took pictures with them. This time Ash was the drunk one and when we returned to our hostel, she spent a good twenty minutes downstairs flirting with the front desk guy from Canada. God only knows what she said to him. Meanwhile back at the ranch, I am in my bed still in the jeans from that day (actually the same jeans of like 3 days) because it was too much effort to try and find my pajama pants. Ashley finally knocks on the door and I let her in. She then proceeds to crumple her Dorito's cool ranch chip bag in her top bunk while chomping and crunching chips at 5 am with fifteen other sleeping roommates. Needless to say, they adored us.
July 1st: I think this is where deliriousness sets in. Everything is hysterical and we burst out in laughter by merely looking at each other. On this day, I realized that my leg hair is possibly growing through my pant legs and it is quite possible they are becoming one since I have now been wearing them for over four days ... give or take. Most likely, take.We make it onto the upper decker bus, where Ashley decides she is going to invade my personal space. She damn well knows that when I motion with my hand that there is a barrier between us, she is not to cross it. She did not abide by the rules, what so ever. She calls this my conditioning, apparently I have some weird "phobia's" (She just informed me) that she feels she needs to break. (Yeah, it is called leave me the F alone, I need personal space ... A.k.a. get the hell out of my bubble.) Anyways, she starts poking me. The threats of me breaking her finger did not get across. Now this may be one of those things where you had to be there, but it was hilarious. I punch her smack in the thigh, stunning her in her tracks. She turns and looks at me, shaking her fist up in the air and says, "Oh, you wanna get rough?"Now, if you know Ash, there is no way in hell she can even attempt to get rough. We both laughed hysterically for the rest of the bus ride and I took my bubble back. Success!On another note, did I mention that when the customs guy harassed me I was sweating like a whore in Church? (Oh my Gosh, that is so something my mother would say ... AAAHH!)Anyways, after a sixteen hour plane ride I was already smelling pretty ripe. It seems that during the harassment, the sweat dripping from my armpits soaked into the piece of shit little backpack I bought. Now the nylon straps of my day travel pack has an odor worse than the man who sat next to me on the first flight. When ever I have to carry it around (I should say pinch it by the safest spot with two fingers) we are constantly looking at each other and smelling our armpits, only to be reminded by the dreaded bag. I swear it is not us. Another dumb Ashley moment:We are sitting in the airport (after we both get the random security check) in Edinburgh and a soldier happens to be in the proximity. Ashley: "Oh, look their is an American Soldier."Myself: "Uh, why is he an American soldier?"Ashley: "Oh, I was thinking that only American soldiers wear camouflage?"Jesus.Belfast Ireland:First things first, it smells like cow shit. We made it to our hostel no problem and we're so happy to find they tried to put us in an already full room. Because! They put us in our own private room! We actually have privacy! This called for another victory dance and high squeaky voices! I washed my feet in our private room sink and I think I transferred the HIV from my feet to my hands.We spent a quiet night in and read our books to celebrate the moment.
July 2nd:We actually are doing laundry! We met a hot Australian guy named Nick who lived at the hostel. We know each other so well, we don’t even have to verbalize that we think he is hot, we both just get this stupid ass giddy smile on our faces and know what the other one is thinking. Then he opened his mouth. I retract the previous statement, he is no longer hot. He was good for something though, he gave us a straightener and blow dryer to use. (Ashley totally stole the straightener, she is going to kill me for saying that! You are such a sinner Ash.) The turn of events of this night went something like this ...We went to the Pub.Lesson # 1: Never drink when you have not eaten anything all day.Suddenly, Ash and I are feeling a little tipsy and decide we are going to walk across the street to Spuds for a chicken salad wrap. When JJ (the manager of the hostel) walks up, hands us a bag and says we owe him a drink. He must have known our stomachs were eating our underwear because he brought us a chicken salad wrap from spuds, which we mowed down. We proceeded to drink more and people watch as individuals walked to our seating area. Not only was everyone smoking weed, including the bouncers but people were just coming outside to do coke. A little weird. We then opted to go pee and ditch everyone for another Spuds chicken salad wrap, that we ate in our private room.Knock Knock! "Lesbians?!" (This is what JJ the manager calls us, in fact he yells this from the bottom of the four flights of stairs, I am sure everyone in the hostel thinks we are lesbians.)We are both scrambling, as we know, he knows we are in there. But once you reach that drunk point where all you want to do is eat and go to sleep, you really just don't want to be bothered. Not to mention, we were both already in our separate beds with no pants on because the damn dryer didn't dry our pajamas in time. (Which I am sure looks really good since he already calls us lesbians.) So we both get up and put on jeans to open the door."Get your asses up and come down stairs and drink with us."Ash and I, "Uh yeah, okay ... Let us just eat our chicken salad wraps though." (Total lie, but in situations like this, one finds themselves saying anything so they can eat.)He leaves.We begin to inhale our wraps and are almost done when ... Knock, Knock."Hey lesbians?" (Now I am positive that everyone on our floor and the floor below us, actually thinks we are lesbians by now.)I guess we didn't shut our door all the way because he pushes it open."Noooo!" And I do a flying leap out of bed, bare ass cheeks and all to shut the door in his face. Again, we put on our jeans and open the door.Irritable, "Yes, JJ."JJ, "Are you guys coming downstairs?"Ash and myself, "Honestly, we are so tired we are just going to go to bed."He goes on jabbering about how he never does this, blah blah blah, asks what we want for breakfast (our reply was coffee) and that he will see us in the morning (more like afternoon.)VICTORY!
July 3rd:Lesson # 1: Relearn previous lesson number 1.We were suppose to leave for Dublin today but apparently JJ the hostel manager has a bit of a crush or something on me. So, he is letting us stay in our hostel for free. And, we seem to really enjoy Belfast so it is not such a bad thing. Sure enough some time around 2 pm, JJ brings us our Starbucks Iced two pump vanilla Latte and iced Soy Chai.He proceeds to tell us to get ready because himself and Nick (the at one time hot guy but then spoke) are taking us out to do some "tourist shit".We walked around the town of Belfast and went to a really old cemetery which was awesome. Many of the hunger strikers are buried there and most of the IRA soldiers.It was actually really interesting learning all about the history of Ireland. (Apart from avoiding JJ's adoring gaze or casually trying to brush up against me.)Later that night we went bowling with a group of Irish people which was fun. Ashley and I really suck at bowling apparently. We will blame it on the fact of unfamiliarity of our surroundings.Ended up at the same pub. Watched everyone do bumps and smoke weed, again.Ditched everyone at the bar and went to Spuds ... again.This time, we sat outside on the stairs down from our hostel smoking cigs and having our usual heart to heart conversations. When Ashley goes quiet as a mouse because she has spotted JJ. Shit! I am entirely not in the mood to deal with this at the moment. As soon as they walk around the corner, we try to sneak up the front stairs. Only to be caught like a deer in a headlight through the side window of the hostel. Damn it. Oh well, we book it to the bathroom and then to our rooms. Another sweet, sweet victory.
July 4th:Knock, Knock! "Lesbians!" "Whaaaat?""Get up, you are switching rooms."Grrrreat. This is what happens when you don't sleep with the manager and continuously blow him off. You get demoted to a room with a door that is the right size for a leprecon.Oh our room ... It is still private. And a box. It is probably the size of my closet. We have been demoted. Victory no longer prevails.I was told that if you bring a book to read with you while you are traveling, it helps to give you a sense of home. A way to block everyone else out. I cried for two hours in our box of a room today when I finished reading My Sister's Keeper. Really great idea. I guess they should have specified what kind of book to read. I think something like Twilight would have been a much better choice.JJ didn’t speak to us for the majority of the day, he was pissed we ditched him at the bar again. I started to feel a little guilty so I made nice by saying we would cook dinner the next night for him and the other guys. This seemed to lighten his mood; however, I think he realized he was never going to get in my pants because this is the day the extremely crude comments and gestures started to come into play. He was disgusting, ask Ashley. Well, we didn’t celebrate to 4th too much, we just hung out outside with a bunch of people while having a few beers. We have a tour to go on tomorrow at 8:30 am, so we tried to keep it pretty chill.
July 5th:Beep, Beep, Beep. Shit! It is 8:25 am and the “Paddywagon” tour bus leaves at 8:30. We are never going to make it. I turn off the alarm and roll over as Ashley, bummed as ever, gets out of bed to go pee. Damn it, I mutter to myself and jump out of bed feeling too guilty to sleep and throw on my dirty jeans. I scramble for some deodorant and cake it on as I am running out of our box.“Ash? ASH!”I spot her coming from the kitchen and yell at her to get ready. We are going on this damn tour even if we look like shit, we have the whole time anyways! She looks at me like she is in shock and she cannot believe I got out of bed. Apparently, she had rationed that she would make toast with jam since we didn’t get to go on the tour and that would make her feel better. She ran upstairs and put on jeans as well (but forgot deodorant.) We run out the side door to the bus and Ashley yells, “I left toast in the toaster.” And we were off.We groggily road the bus to the Giants Causeway and the Larrybane bridge. But the best part was definitely going to Derry and drinking with the local old men.We returned home and made tacos. To say I wanted to kill JJ would be an understatement. Every time I bent over he was doing some disgusting thing behind my back. I finally held up the knife I was cutting the chicken with and told him to get the hell out of the kitchen.
July 6th:We leave today to catch our flight in Shannon to go to London. Shannon is roughly seven hours away from where we are in Belfast so we had to wake up at 5:30 am. Plus, we really wanted to get out of there before JJ woke up, we seem to be making a pattern out of ditching guys without saying anything so we might as well keep it going. At 5:45 am my phone rings. It is my mother calling to make sure I am getting up. Such a gem.We get a cab from Starbucks which doesn’t open until 7 am by the way and have him take us to the bus station.Bus ride to Dublin: 3 ½ hours and we both have to pee.Bus ride from Dublin to Limerick: 4 hours.In Limerick we print our Ryan Air Itinerary at a wifi café, so we wouldn’t have to pay more once we got there. (You’ll see why this is relevant to add in a moment.)Bus ride from Limerick to Shannon Airport: 45 minutes. At the ticket booth she informs us it will be 40 additional pounds because we were actually suppose to check in online and print the boarding pass. ($80.00 more dollars, awesome) She also informs Ashley that her bag weighs too much and she will have to throw things away. I actually saw a side of Ashley I wouldn’t want to mess with, she was pissed.Plane ride from Shannon to Gatwick London Airport: 1 hour 15 minutes.65 pound Taxi ride ($130.00) from airport to hotel: 45 minutes Finally got to bed at 1 am.
July 7th:July 7th will forever go down as the day from hell in my book.Ashley’s card wouldn’t work AGAIN, and I only had enough pounds for my bus ride so we had to take separate buses to the airport. We didn’t even get to say bye to each other in person L.I was at the airport almost four hours before my plane left and the lack of sleep plus half a Zanex I took that morning was really starting to take its toll on me. Let me explain this day readers digest version:My plane to Philadelphia was an hour late taking off from Heathrow London Airport. After being on the plane for 8 hours, we then circle the Philadelphia Airport for 4o minutes due to a thunder storm causing delays in landing.I originally had an hour and a half to go through customs, pick up and recheck my bag and catch my plane. We landed at 5:15 and my plane departs at 5:55 pm. I booked it through customs, ran with my backpack on my back and rechecked it.Literally sprinted, what should have been a 25 minute walk to the other side of the airport in 7 minutes. Arrived at the terminal at 6:10 pm and threw my ticket on the counter. Out of breath, with sweat pouring I manage to say, “Did I make it?”The woman looks at me frazzled and glances at my ticket, “Nope.”You have got to be joking me. I am now freaking out because the flight attendant on the plane told me that this was the last flight into San Francisco for the night. The hell if I am staying here over night, want to freakin’ go home now! (Do you know who I am?! I am the mayor of Penryn, damn it!)I start crying. I can see the plane but the walkway is taken away so she won’t let me on it.If you know me well, then you know I hate crying and avoid it at all costs. But it is like 5 a.m. for me and the flood gates open, apparently I needed a good cry.She has me get on a plane to L.A. where I will then have to catch another plane to San Fran.I continue to cry into my sweatshirt once I am on the plane for a good thirty minutes. I brought a whole new description to the “poor me” party.Luckily, in LA we were early so when I ran to a terminal that was leaving for Sacramento, I was able to get on. In fact, I was the last person on and flew standby with one seat left. Thank you little baby golden Jesus, I will tell you right now if I had to go all the way over to the other side of the airport to catch the plane to SF, I would have given up on life.When Anne picked me up from the airport at 11:08 pm I could have cried tears of joy.
July 8th:Home!One step at a time.Woke up at 6:30 am.I feel like I got hit by a mack truck and our attempt to come back frail, skinny, anorexic looking bitches did not seem to work out. What did happen though, is my ass increased, my bust decreased and I weigh the exact same amount. Flying must add air weight. I shaved my legs and it looked like someone shaved there head in my bathtub.I finally tweezed my eyebrows which took a good two hours. (taking breaks and giving up in between)I am pretty sure I am experiencing extreme hair loss, that or it has just been a really long time since I have brushed my hair.My Schick Quatro brand new razor is now the Schick Zero.But I am squeaky clean, finally dressed and ready to go pick up my bag that finally made it to Sacramento Airport and it is only 6 pm. Progress.In closing, all I can proudly say is … “I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free and I won’t forget the man who died to duh duh duh duh duh, And I proudly stand up next to you hmm hmmm.” So proud that I’ll learn the words to this song later. Good Day.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Appreciate Life
Sitting on top of the tunnel is where I find peace with myself. It is my time to think and lose consciousness for hours at a time. I am awake but as I look out over the valley and hear nothing but the occasional train approaching and roar through the tunnel, I find myself mystified with the worlds subtle beauties. The beauties that go unrecognized in our fast paced, day to day lives.On June 7th, 2008 my world was turned upside down. I received a phone call that someone very close to me died in a car accident. I can honestly say from that day on, I am a different person. I didn't see the change happening nor could I have predicted it but it happened. I thank Kevin for that. He showed me the importance of life and gave me the strength to get out of the relationship I was in. He showed me that I was settling and that life is far too short to settle. I can honestly say that I would not have gotten through his death if it was not for two phenomenal friends. One I acquired during this hard time and she took the front seat in being an outstanding friend. The other, flew home from Hawaii and would lay with me in the fetal position for days on end. No words could ever express my gratitude to these two individuals.
I miss Kevin everyday. I went through all of the emotions that I suppose is called the mourning process. Although, I wake up each day and wonder when the numbness will escape me. I am not numb to everything but I know that the numbness that lingers in my body should not be here and can only hope it will not be here indefinitely. For example, I wonder if I will ever be upset that I just broke up with my ex after a 9 year relationship. I like to think that I had just prepared for it for so long that I dealt with it while I was with him; however, I cannot help but wonder if Kev's death numbed my soul, leaving me feelingless when it comes to my own emotions. The tunnel is my healing place that allows me to be by myself and talk to him with no one else around. I am pretty sure that he hears me.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Friendship
"If you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend." -Stone Temple Pilots
Life is like a roadtrip. It is a journey to an unkown destination where everyone you come across makes an impact on your life. We hold the power in our hands to control whether an individual makes a positive or negative impact on us. I find it to be true, that we come across two different types of friends in our lives. The first group of friends are the ones who are just along for the ride. These friends can get out of the car at anytime, often unexpected or perhaps expected yet we just did not want to admit it. The second, are the friends that are along for the life long journey. These are the GEMS to be treasured and they always sit shotgun no matter what. The importance of both types of friends is that they are both necessary. Individuals come into your life for either a reason, a season or a lifetime. Sometimes, they make an impact on us in which we will continue on our journey never forgetting that person. Other times, we make an impact on them, even if the individual does not realize it until later. Whatever the case, always forgive. Holding onto unnecessary anger is just another burden on our backs that we must carry. It is just extra weight that can easily be shed by forgiveness. The power to forgive someone is the largest power in the world. Well, that and trust. Each should go hand in hand in a friendship. If you have one great friend in life whom you can laugh with, cry with or sit quietly with ... then you have enough friends. Value that friend.
Life is like a roadtrip. It is a journey to an unkown destination where everyone you come across makes an impact on your life. We hold the power in our hands to control whether an individual makes a positive or negative impact on us. I find it to be true, that we come across two different types of friends in our lives. The first group of friends are the ones who are just along for the ride. These friends can get out of the car at anytime, often unexpected or perhaps expected yet we just did not want to admit it. The second, are the friends that are along for the life long journey. These are the GEMS to be treasured and they always sit shotgun no matter what. The importance of both types of friends is that they are both necessary. Individuals come into your life for either a reason, a season or a lifetime. Sometimes, they make an impact on us in which we will continue on our journey never forgetting that person. Other times, we make an impact on them, even if the individual does not realize it until later. Whatever the case, always forgive. Holding onto unnecessary anger is just another burden on our backs that we must carry. It is just extra weight that can easily be shed by forgiveness. The power to forgive someone is the largest power in the world. Well, that and trust. Each should go hand in hand in a friendship. If you have one great friend in life whom you can laugh with, cry with or sit quietly with ... then you have enough friends. Value that friend.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
So indeed it has been a while since my last blogging experience. Where to start? I got hit by a car yesterday and just got out of the hospital ... no not really. Just had to grab your attention. Life is good, but I decided that each day I am going to try and do something really strange and weird. I'll write it down. That is my new years resolution, to do something wacky and strange once a day. What should I do today you ask? Well, I am just not quite sure yet to be honest. But I will tell you tomorrow.
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