a september post

Every once in awhile I decide that my body is tired of my non-concerted efforts to take care of it. No desserts until my birthday. Desserts is actually more encompassing than one might think. That means no mochas, no cake, no ice cream, no soda, no candy, no cookies, no chocolate chips. I will eat things like dehydrated fruit (even though it has added sugar), and occasionally I'll drink coffee and put creamer in it. yeah yeah, it had high fructose corn syrup and i'll probably get cancer tomorrow. Although, thanks Rhonda, for that homemade coffee creamer website. <-click on that. maybe I'll make that. You know. when I have time (never). The point is, I work in a bakery and those lonesome fallen-over cupcakes that we just can't sell are forever getting eaten by me and that has got to stop. My body needs a break...a cleansing if you will.
I did have an asiago bagel today...but i mean...it's not sweet. I think i'm exchanging sweet for incredibly salty and saturated fattening.
I don't like to think of myself being on a diet so much as just taking a break from my familiar daily addictions.
These addictions are piling up in so many areas of my life, and I don't really know how to break them. Negativity, a consumption with the way I look, critical attitudes about other people, sleep, selfishly creating conflict that doesn't necessarily need to surface...Dealing with this stuff is even worse because I feel like I don't have time. I don't know what it is about class and the monotony of it, but it seems to put people in regular bad moods. Not all the time but often. Also not everyone, but a lot of people. I'm one of those people. I wasn't made to sit in a room for any number of hours and learn by hearing. Like I really don't think that was the intention of man. MAYBE adam and eve's kids sat at fig tree desks and learned about what it's like to have disabled kids in the classroom, but I feel like they mostly learned by doing. Probably.
I keep telling my friends to be where God has them. But I think I'm failing just as much at also manifesting that. Positive attitudes are our friends...

Indelible Grace

do blogs and facebook mean we're really into ourselves?...i don't know, i think this is my excuse to talk and talk, and people have a choice about whether they listen or not.

I may not be a full-blown 5-points-of-Calvinism Presbyterian at this point in my life, but I can't even begin to describe how desperately sweet it was tonight to sit in a crowd of Believers and listen to music that has become increasingly more encouraging and weighty and beautiful the older i've gotten. The best part is that it was a concert, but not one of the 20 (or so) incredibly talented musicians who got up to sing seemed to have it in their motivation to be showy. Most of them sang with their hands in their pockets, super chill, but still extremely passionate. In Wales, while I lacked a constant immersion in Christian community, I really didn't feel the emptiness as much as I probably should have--until I got home and experienced that fellowship again. I went to the "hymn sing" at the Ryman in Nashville tonight. I know that may sound southern and revival-ish, "we gonna go to a HEM sang, ya'll", but the music that is associated with RUF is anything but tacky. Kevin Twit (RUF minister at Belmonth), along with his students and other aspiring artists who also loved hymns (but disliked the tunes) wrote new music for the brilliant, rich, full, literally MEATY lyrics of the old songs of the church. I can't even tell you how moments like tonight make me not "all fired up for JESUS", but instead longing for the richness and beauty associated with this music to be alive in my heart. It's like eating a full meal after starving myself for 5 months. So much Truth presented in the span of a few hours. Does this sound shady?

I visited a church last Sunday, which shall remain nameless, and I left sort of sick to my stomach. I didn't feel fed, but overwhelmed. I mean, I don't think i attended a concert necessarily, but when the leader runs around on the stage and sings different words than everyone else is supposed to be singing, I can't help but wonder how much that person is leading as much as showing. this church is very "let's get EVERYONE in Cookeville to come here and be excited for Jesus". It has that feeling of "get saved and get going" and less "let's also seriously challenge and encourage and prepare the Christians already in our church body". I don't like it when salvation is thrown on people. on the opposite spectrum, I also dislike it when churches assume everyone in the church body is already a believer and therefore unbelievers feel completely lost and unaccepted. can't there be a balance...?

And can't there also be a balance in music? I always thought there could only be so many songs with "God you're awesome, amazing, incredible, divine, indescribable, uncontainable, blah-dee-blah blah". I was wrong. There are yet MORE songs that I am hearing that i've never heard before with the same lyrics. Yes, God is good. And we need to be reminded of that. But a lot of times, when I go into services, and literally the entire church is so freaking excited and singing all these praise songs, I feel like I need to leave because I'm the only one who doesn't have the right heart. I'm not praise-y feeling. Ok, so part of this is my fault, and I need some heart softening. But I don't think the majority of the Christian walk is happy and exciting. I think its hard and frustrating, and some Sundays all I really want to do is fall at Jesus's feet and confess and ask Him to hold me. The hymn for those Sundays:
"Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On Thee, when sorrows rise
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies
To Thee I tell each rising grief,
For Thou alone canst heal
Thy Word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel"

As Kevin Twit said tonight, "following those lyrics, I immediately have to pray Mark 9:24 'Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!' " I long to know you and feel you, but I don't. Lord, help me.

I feel like with every praise song, there should be an equal amount of the Gospel in music. We are wholly dependent on Jesus because we caaaaaaan't dooooo iiiiit. We aren't good people and we don't love to get up and jump around and yell about how wonderful God is....without Jesus. The beautiful thing about the Ruf hymns is that as they have transcended hundreds of years, they are still true for the Christian walk. It's not that people can't still write good worship songs...it's just that many of them do not contain the weight, the heaviness, the depth, and the poetry of hymns. The REALITY of hymns. there are so many "pump up the Christian" songs. I don't need pumping up and feeling better about myself. I do enough of that during the week in my selfishness. I need to hear about sin and grace and love and compassion and difficult stuff. In songs and in preaching. I don't know if I'm too cynical (ok, yes, I definitely am in some ways), or if I'm not as Spiritual as some people, or...maybe i'm too narrow minded in my view of what makes good worship. or maybe there isn't a "right" way as long as your heart is in the right place. maybe it's just preference. but I seriously believe that hymns are one of the most hidden treasures of the church in this day and age. what makes a hymn a hymn anyway? and are hymns still being written...?

nobody knows about Indelible Grace, but they're on itunes, and I would super suggest discovering them at some point...

the ponderings that certainly come after a morning at grace presbyterian church

i'm here. here and home. It's a good sensation to snuggle under your covers with no certain expectations for the day or the week or the month. It's also a good feeling to have skin the color of caramel and have no need to do anything presentable with your hair or your face, because your dog and your mom and dad still think of you as a little girl anyway, and cute hair and makeup don't remind them of when you were 5. If months were a color, what would they be? I think of june as yellow, july as orange, and for august, doesn't red come to mind?

Something paradoxically unfortunate AND wonderful is realizing that everyone is a sinner and then starting to dislike them because they aren't as without fault and charming from a distance as you initially believed them to be. People need acceptance. It's the only way to get by. And sometimes complaining about their incompetence as human beings makes you feel like more of a competent person. I realize the more I get to know people how badly they fail and hurt my feelings and make me so angry. And all of my other closest friends hear about it. I do love the friends who can look at me, unafraid of my reaction, and openly say, "you are being so critical." yes, you're right. People need the freedom to struggle. Room to breathe and make mistakes. I can also really appreciate the humility to fall apart and admit to their own humanity. I seem to be drawn to people who are open to melting all over the place. I think it's because I am so hesitant myself to embrace brokenness. There are a lot of words that I never used before I met bryan bond. brokenness and grace are two of them. relational brokenness became a part of my vocabulary after I heard brent harriman talk. it's so clear to me how those three words go together the closer I become with people. relationships + brokenness + grace. i don't really know what would follow the equals sign...redemption maybe?

something else I'm realizing and thinking more about the longer I'm at home with a non-busy life...I consistently have had not doubts, but maybe curious wonderings, about how Scripture could be real. About if God is really who He says He is. But the more I wonder, the more convinced I am that I despite what I think, He is True, and I just don't understand Him or what He has done in history. But at the same time, I really really do believe it. It makes sense to me, even though it doesn't make sense. on that note...i have completely lost you, and i post my incomplete thoughts...

South Africa 2

The next day we woke up (I stayed with one of Philip’s friends named Kellen, so don't you worry) and went with his really fun Norwegian friends, Sigurd and Kristian, to a Saturday market. We had Greek gyros and empanadas and beer and enjoyed all the local goods/samples. p.s. In SA, the beer has very few ingredients and mostly all taste the same. Popular ones include: Carling, Castle, and Black Label. I can't remember which one I had that day. Anyway, afterward the four of us went to a wine tasting at a very quaint winery (I came to realize that wineries are basically on every corner and the biggest attraction to this part of South Africa). We tried many different wines, and I didn’t realize you can pour one out if you don’t want to finish it. So I drank all 7 or however-many samples they gave us. Of course, this resulted in slight tipsiness and extreme fascination with all the animals inhabiting the farm around the winery. There was a black pig, wallabies, little deer, a big turtle, a wiener dog named Pinot and a Great Dane named after another wine, and lots of chickens, geese, and ducks. Actually, I probably have this fascination anyway. That night we had some INCREDIBLE pizza (covered with avocado slices and sweet chili sauce on the side) at a bar called Bohemia and talked for a long time, enjoying the chilly evening. While eating, a little black kid asked us repeatedly for money in Afrikaans. We didn't oblige. The next day we went to a nature reserve called Jonkershoek - which was uphill biking there, but downhill the whole way home - and ended up at a lovely waterfall.





We ate that night at a place called Basic Bistro, and I got a greek salad, which consisted of a few tomatoes, some fresh mozzarella, and some basil leaves. Not totally filling, but Philip’s and Ryan’s pastas were amazing. The next was Philip’s birthday, so I made us an omelet, and he studied the whole day for his final that night. I went and got cake ingredients, including a Dunkin Hines mix, sweet and condensed milk, and Butterfinger bars. It was an expensive cake, but pretty good. Philip took his final, which completed his second semester of junior year, and we went out that night to a fancy restaurant with a bunch of friends (philip got a medium-rare rump steak, and I got a chicken, sun-dried tomato, and pineapple burger...it was one of the best meals during the trip), ordered good wine, then went to smoke hookah, and finally went out to a club for lots of dancing. We had cake that night. It was really good at 3 in the morning. I gave Philip his collage of pictures and other random presents the next day. That week we did a lot of hanging out because it rained constantly, going out at night, watching movies (a weird one and Where The Wild Things Are), and eating out at cool restaurants. We went to a few wineries, one called Spier that had cheetahs)...




We also went to an incredible brandy distillery called Van Ryn’s one day and left feeling guilty for ever having cheap brandy and coke. They taught us how to drink it like classy people…or “neat”, with specific chocolates on our tongue depending on the kind of brandy we’re drinking. We tried a 12 year old, 15 year old, and 20 year old brandy. They made me like brandy. The next day, Wednesday, I went with Philip to Kayamandi where he has volunteered with kids all semester, and I loved it. They served us dinner, and we talked about politics throughout dinner with a guy from Cuba and Philip’s other Kayamandi volunteers. I helped Philip pick out souvenirs for his family at the local market, which is full of “TRUE African gifts”. I also got some earrings for me. That weekend we went to Cape Town and stayed with two really cool couch surfers—Wim and Hanlie. They took us to Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens in their little 1960s Beatle, dropped us off, and Philip and I climbed Table Mountain. It was gorgeous. At the top we met a very old gentleman who had on what looked like a homemade blue sweater, sleeves too short, a white button down shirt underneath, and a fishing hat. He said he had climbed Table Mountain 1016 times, and I believed him. He looked like the man of the mountain. His skin was tan and leathery, and I really hope more people than just me and Philip know about this guy. Hopefully they do.



We hiked down to Cape's Bay - the beach - on the other side of Table Mountain and met up with three of Philip's friends, as well as Hanlie and Wim. They took me and Philip back to their house and served us bobotie for dinner, a traditional South African dish, which I now want to make for my roommates in Swansea. Philip and Hanlie got into a religious discussion over whiskey and wine. We left their lovely home the next day, and I really hope we get to see them again some day. I have decided that I have to come back to Africa soon. Next time I want to go to Victoria Falls, Namibia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, and more parts of South Africa. The next day we went to the beach with Sophia and Joanna, 2 of Philip’s friends. Sophia has a car, and the trains decided to go on strike, and it was a perfect day for the beach. Side note: in Africa, the sun is so so so much hotter and so much brighter than other places. I managed to get a little tan.




That night Philip and I went to a delicious Lebanese restaurant for our last night together before I would leave the next day. We got gelato - orange chocolate was the best flavor - and walked back to his apt. The next day he borrowed the Norwegian guys' car and took me to Cape Town to the airport. I was so sad to leave, partly because I had a final the next day that I hadn’t studied for at all. The flight home was uneventful, and I watched It’s Complicated, Away We Go, and An Education on the way. All fantastic. Away We Go is one of my favorites. I arrived back to Swansea in one piece, exhausted. It is not possible to sleep more than two hours on a plane.

South Africa 1

It’s funny how sentimental music is for me. Actually, how sentimental everything is for me. A certain someone told me recently that I am the most nostalgic person they know. I think I miss things too much when they’re over. For instance, South Africa. We listened to a lot of new music while I was there, and now when I hear it, I want to go back. I mean, SA was cool in general, but I think the experiences with the people and the places and the music and the food and the cape town couch surfers and the hiking and the dancing has created a certain wistful desire to return.
On Thursday, the 6th, I took the train to London and then the tube to Heathrow. Just in case you ever have the intention to take the tube instead of the express bus from London Paddington to Heathrow airport, make sure you have an extra hour and a half to spare. It’s a long journey. But it’s also only £4.50 as opposed to the £13 bus. Just sayin. Checking in, going through security, and finding my gate were not problems at all, and the only unfortunate thing was that when I got to Paris, my plane was delayed for about an hour, and we sat on the plane for that long. The problem with that was I only had about two hours between my connecting flights once I arrived in Johannesburg to go to Cape Town. So it was sort of imperative that I didn’t have a delay. Anyway, the flight was long, and I read my book (The Reader) and watched Sherlock Holmes (excellent movie, by the way) and New Moon. In Jo-burg, it took forever to get OFF the plane, and I only had about an hour before my flight (so 30 minutes to go through security, get my bag, and re-check my bag before the 30-minute-bag-check-prior-to-departure would screw my chances of making my plane to Cape Town). I pushed my way through people, and asked about four very accommodating individuals in the customs line to let me cut in front of them. Basically I weaseled my way unfairly through about 150 people to the front of the line, got my passport stamped, and thankfully, my suitcase was one of the first ones I saw once I got to the baggage reclaim. I sprinted, yes sprinted, through the airport, and a South African guy asked me where I was going and if he could help me get to where I needed to be…if I paid him. I agreed under the stress and pressure, and he grabbed my suitcase and took off running beside me. He knew exactly where we were going and I got to my right counter 1 minute before the 30-minute limit. He took my bag, directed me to my gate, and I gave him £6 in coins. I don’t know why I gave him so much. It's ridiculous. He looked like he would have accepted £3. I was just really grateful. Anyway. On the plane, I talked to a Christian lady next to me who was from Arizona and a big fan of the new law in Arizona where immigrants now have to carry their papers with them in case the police get suspicious. I didn’t even know about the law (surprise, surprise) until this flight. I also didn’t decide if I agreed with it or not until I talked to Philip about it later and saw both sides. I don’t agree with it.
I arrived in Cape Town to see a sign with my name on it held up by Philip’s good friend Ryan. He greeted me very warmly and gave me a hug. Apparently, it was the first warm, sunny day on the western cape in a while (it's technically almost winter in SA, so it is often rainy and chilly all the time), so we enjoyed a happy drive to Stellenbosch, windows rolled down. Ryan told me all about the townships around the area and a little about South African history. He and I got along immediately, but I feel like I, being myself, let on to my extreme ignorance to most major historical/political/common knowledge events in the world, and he may or may not think I’m an idiot. It’s ok. I cleaned up a bit at Philip’s little apartment, even shaving my legs with lotion because I wanted to not seem like I had been on a plane for 15 hours. He got in and we hugged for a long time, and I couldn’t look at him directly for a moment because it was so surreal and all I really wanted to do was hug him. We talked for awhile, I met his girl friends, we got a ride to town, and walked around the city in the sun. We ate gelato and mostly just hung out before going to a friend’s 21st birthday party that night at a bar in town. It was decade themed, but I both had not brought a wardrobe for such an event and didn’t know everyone well enough to deck out in my finest. It was a fun night, but it took me awhile to open up and chill and be fun. We had a few drinks and went dancing at Catwalk (a club) and then chilled at Philip’s. End of day 1.

"Oh! 'Recently'..."

I suppose I’ve become a bit of a slacker. And when I say bit, I mean lot. Lot of a slacker. I think I feel like the only time I should write is when I have something extremely intellectual/existential to say OR if I’ve been on some major trip. Hence me writing now, because I went to South Africa. I kind of respect Philip’s idea though, because he writes every other day or so and keeps people updated about what’s going on on a regular basis. I don’t really do that, but it’s a good idea. Anyway. So after I got back from my spring break travels, life slowed down tremendously, as it is wont to do in Swansea. I worked a couple times a week, which I so enjoy. There’s some sort of rhythm to grinding espresso, tamping it firmly, pulling a shot, and foaming milk. At around the 3rd latte order, you feel like you should give that rhythm a name—sort of like a runner’s high, except a barista’s high. I love it. I love the routine. I think I also love the exchange rate between the £ and the $ and how I feel like I make bank every time I work (I don’t. But when you’re down to an embarrassing amount of money in your bank account, very small amounts of income feel quite large.) Perhaps there’s also a thrill in the realization that I’m doing something illegal because I do not have a work visa, I’m not extremely proficient at understanding British money, and I get paid under the table. That’s enough about work. Amidst the slow pace of life and work, I watched several movies, including Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Last Song, Julie and Julia (with Hope when she came to visit me in Swansea), and I can’t remember what else. I am writing this on the beach, because I am finished with finals, and it is 75 degrees and unbelievably sunny. As I speak, there are two small boys running around stark naked with orange ball caps on, accompanied by their fully clothed daddy. Confession. Sometimes I wish the human race would disappear for maybe a day, and during that time, I would visit rare places and do this without clothes. Is that weird? I think some things would be so much more fun if clothes were not mandatory. Moving on…
About a week before I left for South Africa, Hope and I ventured to Oxford, England. Side note: I have learned sort of to defeat the train system. If you buy a ticket to one place and then buy a separate ticket from that place to your intended destination, it’s usually much cheaper to split it up. The one place I haven’t figured out is trains to London. Splitting it up doesn’t usually matter. Which is sort of my dilemma now trying to get back to London cheaply at the end of this week in order to fly out on June 1st.
Anyway, at Oxford, I met up with Hope early in the morning, and despite the rain that insisted on falling all day, we were so excited to see each other. She is really one of the greatest girls ever, and I’m so glad we have become friends while studying abroad. We went to the Eagle and Child, where C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien met often with their group of friends, which they nicknamed the "Inklings". They both taught at Oxford. Lunch was good, and Hope and I ate with her friends from Prague. Then we walked around visiting cool shops, taking pictures, seeing the important sites, like Christ Church (the inspiration for Hogwarts in Harry Potter movies) and searching for C.S. Lewis’s grave. We found it.




After buying a large comfy Oxford sweatshirt, my train was due to leave, so I headed back to Swansea. That week I wrote my final story for my creative writing class, and it was not my best work. I got a B on it, so I think my professor wasn’t so impressed either. He did say however, “You have a natural, very appealing flair to your writing that I really like.” He thought this story was too flat though, and that I should find an area of writing that better “suited my talent”. Teachers don’t really compliment my work ever, so hearing that he likes the way I write was very encouraging. It is something I’ve done since I was a kid, after all. On Thursday, I walked around campus with my ginormous suitcase, turning in final papers and making sure my library books were turned in. Then I headed to eat lunch with Melanie before getting on a train to Heathrow airport. Melanie left two days after me, so a final jacket potato with tuna at Café Olé was just the sort of goodbye we needed…

life among the lads and lassies

Here we are...Is it april? Is it really the END of April? Soon it will be May. And then June. And then I will be home. I never finished my story about the euro trip, so for the sake of my own resolve and need for conclusion, I will begin where I left off and quickly debrief you on what went down in Scotland. On April 12, I went to Rhona's friend's (named Cairene--Cy-reen's) apartment, because my couch surfer had plans my last night in Glasgow, and I also really wanted to meet the kind soul who was offering me a bed simply because I was Rhona's friend. I met Cairene with all my ridiculous baggage at the subway station in the city center. She is SO cute, so sweet, and so gracious. We talked for the whole walk to her home at Strathclyde University, and I knew we would be immediate friends. She is from a reformed church in Inverness, and she is very aware of RUF, which was so exciting to me. I hadn't even heard the word "RUF" in months, and it was so funny to hear it being talked about by someone with a Scottish accent. We arrived to her very cute apartment, and my first thought was that it was decorated similarly to how I would decorate my house. I felt right at home. Fiona, Cairene's engaged and amazing room mate, made us dinner of pork loin and vegetables. My body had been craving veggies, of course, so it was phenomenal. After dinner, Fiona and her fiance, Roddy MacKay (who is one of the most incredible photographers ever...check out his site...apparently he's sort of famous in Scotland: http://www.roddymackayphotography.com) made plans for their upcoming wedding, and Roddy told me all about how he got into photography. Then Cairene and I watched Billy Elliott, chatted, and went to bed. Unfortunately, the next morning I had to leave early to get on bus and go to Inverness. On the bright side, however, I was SO excited to see Rhona. After the 3 and 1/2 hour bus ride, I arrived in Inverness to immediately see Rhona's smiling face. We went to her house, which is very lovely and nestled a bit outside the city among the sheep and quiet Scottish countryside. We went on a walk, taking her normal running route (which has far more uphills than I can imagine on one run) and found the ruins of a burial site, where apparently witchcraft was practiced (i took a few pictures--check out my facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=31041096&id=1510230035&saved#!/photos.php?id=1510230035). After this, we went home, and I met Rhona's parents, who are so friendly and have gorgeous accents. I met Coulin (cool-in), their black lab, and immediately we bonded. I gained her favor very quickly because at every meal I would give her my leftovers (her parents were fine with this). Rhona's mom, Alison, made dinner for us, and that evening we laid around doing nothing. The next day, Rhona and I went to Loch Ness to find the monster and then to the "Footprints". Apparently, in the 1700's, a preacher named Finley Monroe was giving a sermon to a crowd of people. Someone in the crowd began heckling him to prove what he was saying. Monroe claimed that as proof to the world that his words were truth, the place where he stood would be marked in the ground forever. Since then, footprints are marked very clearly on the ground in that specific spot. Recently, a man dug up the footprints so that nothing was there anymore. The footprints came back, and the guy who dug them up died a week later. Craaaaazy. Rhona and I had lunch by Loch Ness, the sun happily shining on our pasty faces. It was a gorgeous day. So completes Wednesday, the 14th. The next day was Thursday, and we explored Inverness high and low. The cathedral, the church Rhona grew up in, Leakey's bookstore (a church, converted to a quaint little bookstore), and TK Maxx (Europe's version of TJ Maxx). We had dinner that night--Indian food (which is extremely popular cuisine in the UK, and I have no idea why). It was delicious, of course, because Rhona's mom is amazing. We went to the movies for a girl evening and watched Dear John. It was cheesy and sad and had an unsatisfactory ending. But I mean. It's ok. I still wept, because it's what I do. The next day we went to the Isle of Skye, where Angus MacAskill (Rhona's dad, as well as one of her ancestor's--the famous giant) is from. It was freezing, but GORGEOUS. Rhona introduced me during the drive to Kate Rusby, a folk/celtic singer, who sounds probably like an angel. We arrived to a lighthouse and found a cozy little spot with a view of the North Sea and the light house. After shivering our way through a picnic, complete with millionaire shortbread (my new favorite Scottish dessert), Rhona and I booked it back to the car. Not before getting a picture together in front of the sea with a puppy who insisted on posing with us by jumping up on my legs relentlessly. We drove back home, and I went on a run around Rhona's neighborhood. It was a beautiful run, even though I got lost. It was one of those I-think-i-could-run-forever days, so i didn't mind being lost for awhile. Rhona's mom made breakfast/dinner that night, and we had black pudding. Traditional Scottish delicacy with oatmeal, garlic, onions, and...wait for it...pig's blood. It's actually not bad, but really weird, and it's hard for me to get past the fact that i'm freaking eating blood. So I didn't eat it all. But I tried it!
The next day was go-home day, but alas, my flight was canceled because of the volcano. So, armed with a book from tesco and plenty of snack food, I got on an overnight bus to london, which was maybe the most miserable bus ride of my life. I couldn't find a comfortable position in which to sleep, so I finished my book and sort of dozed. The kind of doze where your head falls and then you wake up suddenly. It happens endlessly, and sleep never comes. Upon arriving in London Victoria bus station, I waited for another bus to Cardiff. On that bus, Lindsey got on (she was supposed to meet me in Scotland, but her flight was canceled because of the volcano too, so she stayed with a friend in London and waited till I was going back to Swansea so we could ride together) and we talked the whole way about our separate adventures. I saw all her pictures from Greece (I am now dying to go to the island of Santorini...someday maybe) and she heard about my fun in Scotland. In Swansea, I caught all my room mates up on my life and realized that it wasn't at all strange to be back. It was more strange that I ever left...the most whirlwind, crazy 4-week adventure of my life.

"croquis make my heart flutter"-melanie passons

"Harry coo" is the scottish way of saying hairy cow...the cows look like this:


Their "fringe" (british word for "bangs") is absurdly long, and I really cant imagine how they see clearly. As you may guess, I am now in Scotland because my friends went to Greece on april 9th, and so I didnt want to stay in Venice by myself. I found a couch surfer in Glasgow and flew into Prestwick airport that evening. My couch surfers are Ally and Craig, and they are wonderful. I have not had a bad experience with couch surfing which is kind of crazy and wonderful. Tonight I am going to stay with my Scottish friend, Rhona's, friend named cairene. I'm staying with her because tomorrow Rhona gets back to Inverness, which is where I'll be going until Saturday. (I know Rhona because I worked with her at Independent Pres. in Memphis two summers ago). So i suppose I should start talking where i left off, which was just after arriving in Switzerland. I still haven't decided if my life sped up or slowed down after Switzerland. p.s. I'm listening to Michael Bublé's version of "the way you look tonight", and I just simply think that song is one of the most romantic ones ever. I even thought that when I was 8 and saw Father of the Bride for the first time.
Continuing...Hannah and Rob-Jean (pronounced kind of like "robe-ee-yawn") from Switzerland were a very encouraging part of my trip--arguably the most encouraging I experienced while being away for 4 weeks. We discussed so many important things that I hadn't thought about in months. Without church, without believers, there is a sort of lost feeling in my heart, and conversation with Hannah and Rob-Jean was rejuvenating. Hannah and I got into a deep discussion about God's will and what is actually "right" and "wrong". How do you know? What is subjective to the person and what is Biblically, hands down, wrong for everyone...? Ya'lls thoughts are welcome. I decided that as weird as this may sound, I think there are some things that God just doesn't care about. I mean, I think He cares, but not to the extent we think He does. I think He has things spinning in the right direction, with the future planned out. I think we make mistakes, and we have to allow ourselves to fail. Yes, we want to do the right thing, but I also think there is a moment where you say "ok, Lord. I don't know what You want me to do. So I'm going to do what my heart tells me to do. It might be a mistake. But I still think You are sovereign, and have my best in mind." I think life involves a lot of surrendering choices to God and then acting according to what feels right. Not necessarily what you want, but what really feels like the best decision. Anyway...
Hannah and Rob-Jean are a very hilarious couple. They banter like brother and sister, but it's always affectionate....one day we went into Geneva, which was lovely. As usual, money is constantly on my mind, and Switzerland was no exception, especially because the Swiss Franc is about = the $. Except that everything in Switzerland is about 7 times as much. a tall coffee at starbucks is about 7 francs. Can you imagine paying $7 for a coffee? I'm still trying to imagine it. Lucky for the Swiss, they make about $20 an hour (Thats minimum wage), so nothing is really that expensive from their perspective. Sweet Hannah will be out west in the U.S. soon, and she will probably feel like a rich woman. She works at Starbucks and gave me, melanie, and lindsey free drinks, which was remarkable. My java chip frappacino (which will probably always remind me of Shannon Wallace) tasted better than it ever has. Even though there were chips of ice not blended in. Its amazing to me how much more easily life can be appreciated when the simplest things in life are unattainable...
The next day we went to Lausanne, Switzerland, which was breathtaking. We discovered an outdoor store, and I drooled over the climbing shoes and Patagonia sweatshirts (called "jumpers" here, btw). A basic Nalgene in switzerland is 20 francs. Compare this to the $7 Nalgenes in America. CRAZINESS. ok, done talking about how expensive everything is. My favorite part of Lausanne was Lake Geneva. Fog laced the Alps, sailboats floated in the choppy waters, which made for beautiful pictures. Melanie and I managed to lose Lindsey (or so we thought...apparently she was just enjoying the country and taking pictures, while we thought she was missing), which wasn't too unusual, since we lose her on a regular basis. Lovely Lindsey lives in a schedule-less world of no watches. Thankfully, she set a clock on her camera, and finally has access to the time. We had so much fun in Lausanne and came home to Hannah's, made dinner, and stopped in at the village grocery store for a carton of the best hot chocolate mix in the world--only available in Switzerland. Thank you, Megan Headrick, for introducing it to me in America, because I immediately looked for it when I got to the country. Hannah, of course, had bags in abundance, and we had it multiple time during the day. It's the richest, most incredible hot chocolate you will ever have. And you must have it. If you are nice to me, I might share with you when I get home...I made myself promise to not open it until I get back to the States. After dinner that night, my stomach began to act strangely, and I naturally thought it was just all the chocolate I was consuming (3 brownies with ice cream for dessert that night...). Rob-Jean told me the cure for any stomach ache is to place your hands on your stomach, fingers spread, and finger-by-finger, press on your belly. Sort of a "drumming your fingers" style. It looked hilarious, and Melanie and I died. Which made my stomach hurt worse. I proceeded to have diarrhea the rest of the night, every 15 minutes. Yay flu. I know you wanted to know this. The next morning, we had a train to take to geneva in order to take another train to Rome at 8 am. However, Rob-Jean needed someone to take him to the train station at 4:45 that morning, and Hannah couldnt do it. I was the only one who drove a stick shift, so I volunteered. I did this BEFORE i got sick. sigh. So I basically flew to the station, stalling along the way in the rickety no-automatic-steering car, and then flew home just in time to go to the bathroom again. We went to Geneva (after missing the train out of hannah's village and having to wake her up and beg her to take us to geneva to catch our Rome train...yes, we compensated her for gas), caught our train, and I was ill for the 7 hour trip. I hadn't slept the night before at all, and I couldn't make my stomach settle to sleep on the train to Rome, so by the time we arrived in italy, I was miserable, exhausted, homesick, regular sick, and did NOT want to be in Italy. I wanted to be in a bed, sleeping, preferably in Cookeville, TN, with my mom nearby. I turn into a real baby when I'm sick, and traveling wasn't a good ingredient to add to my pathetic state. My friend who I had met in Paris put us up in Rome, and we arrived to his apartment to find some make-shift beds, which I immediately fell into at 6 pm that night and slept until 9 am the next day. Poor Mirko. He had wanted us all to go out in Rome and party to welcome us, but we were not a joyful group to employ for such a tiring task. The next day was fun, even though I was still recovering. After still feeling sick all day and being mentally exhausted, Melanie and I both broke down near the Coliseum, tearfully mourning our normal lives. We had been gone for two and a half weeks, and traveling was definitely beginning to take its toll. We love traveling, but decided that doing it consecutively was so much harder than we anticipated. That night we went to bed early and the next day I woke up feeling a lot better. Lindsey split up with her friend from home, and they went to the Vatican. Mel and I also went to the Vatican and stood in line for several hours. The nice ticket guy only made us pay 8 euro to get in, and it is normally 15 euro. That made our days. We took pictures of everything important and finally arrived in the Sistine Chapel, where, while sneaking a picture of Adam and God on the ceiling, I got kicked out. Melanie laughed. I was embarrassed. Afterward, we went to St. Peter's Basilica and sat in the courtyard in the sun, eating oranges and napping. It was heavenly. The day was very warm and gorgeous, and both of us needed some Vitamin C and D and Zzzz. Did u know the inside of oranges in italy are red? I think they look undercooked. However, they are very juicy and more tasty than normal oranges and make red orange juice. I'll post pictures of them on facebook.
The next day was Easter Sunday, and we had tickets to the Papal Mass to see the Pope. We stood in line earlllly that morning, hoping for the same sun to shine in the courtyard of St. Peter's as it had done the day before. Not a chance. It poured. I huddled under a Romanian lady's umbrella in my seat, while Melanie, prepared as she is, had brought a rain jacket. I had Sunday clothes on and a thin cardigan. Lindsey and her friend from home sat elsewhere and stayed for the remainder of the service. After about two hours and still no Pope, I gave up and went to stand under the covered area in the courtyard. For some reason, security didn't like this, and forced all the cold, wet, faithful Catholics (and 1 Presbyterian) back into the rain. I left, snapping a quick pic of Mr. Pope on the big screen on the way out. Melanie and I got mochas and pastries and headed to the Spanish Steps to meet my friend Hope (remember the one who didn't get to go to Belfast with us?), as well as other UT friends, Evan Story and Tyler Underwood, and then Hope's Worcester friend, Katie. Melanie and I were soaked, but it was SO good to see them. She didn't know them at all, but by the time Melanie and I left that evening, we were all family. We went to the Pantheon, which was half under construction :(, and then to Giletti's, a supposedly amazing Gelato place in Rome. I didn't get any ice cream, because I had overdone sweets in Switzerland. At this point, I had been in Italy for 4 days and still hadn't experienced Gelato. Just a side note. We then proceeded to the Trevi fountain, where we, loud americans that we are, yelled "1-2-3!" and threw coins over our shoulder into the water. So, apparently we'll be back in Rome one day. Evan got run into by a horse-drawn carriage twice in 20 minutes, which made for a really wonderful laugh. I think maybe he doesnt like horses anymore. At the tomb of the unknown soldier, we all remembered that somewhere in Rome was the Mamertine Prison of Peter and Paul. I'm so glad that someone remembered it, because I had totally forgot that was in Rome. I managed to figure out where it was from an Italian security guard who barely knew English. Apparently it was directly behind the tomb of the soldier, right by the Coliseum and Roman Forum. We found it with no problem and seeing Roman 6: 8-11 written on a plaque on the gate of the Prison, I began to cry. It appalled me that Paul had written such a beautiful letter to these people during his time in such a miserable place. Words like 8:28, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Apparently, Peter was in this prison before being executed in Nero's circus on Vatican Hill. It was incredible to see this with fellow Believers. Such a humble experience to have with people who also love the Lord. Out of all the sites we saw in Rome, this was only one where me and my friends were the only tourists. I suppose that's sort of telling. People around us snapped pictures of the Roman Forum, and someone asked "wait, so why is this important? who was here?" Historically, Mamertine was the most significant to me. I loved it.
Saying goodbye to Hope and Evan and Tyler and Katie was super hard. It was so awesome to have a piece of home, but then so sad to have to let them go. As melanie and I got on our metro, and the other four got on their metro, we could see each other through the windows of our different train cars, and I so wished we could have all traveled together for the remainder of our trip. Hope is coming to see me in Swansea soon, but I'll miss evan and tyler. Have a safe trip back to the States, friends!
The next day we headed to Pisa. We spent about an hour taking clíche pictures in front of the ol' tower and then decided to head on to Florence. We arrived in Florence to discover our campsite. We had booked a hostel that was at a campground, but i think we didn't realize how much it was actually camping. I loved it, but I think it was harder for my friends. We had tents with bunk beds. It was definitely cold at night, but they provided a ton of blankets for each of us. The coolest part was the view we got to experience every day, which was at the top of an area called "Michelangelo", overlooking all of Florence. Gorgeous. I didn't take a ton of pictures, because we were only there a short time. Sadly Melanie got the same flu bug I had had, and she was ill during our time there. That was especially hard because we were camping, so I think Florence was a lot less fun for her. Kind of like the first couple days in Rome for me. I discovered gelato while we were there and of course had it 3 times a day for the rest of our time in Italy. Not kidding. My favorite flavors were the dark chocolate and the tiramisu. Together is good too. I used to hate dark chocolate. Now I prefer it over milk chocolate. What has Europe done to me?? After florence was Venice, which was definitely my favorite of all the Italian cities. Although Hope and the guys were to Cinque Terre, which I so wish I could have seen, because judging by their pictures and opinions, it looks like it would have been my favorite city. I love villages, especially on the water. Venice wasn't a village, but it sort of felt like it, because its so compact and quaint. We didn't go on gondola ride; they are like 80 euro. However, we did have a sweet dinner by the water, complete with a bottle of wine (Scott and Ruthanne :) ), and then gelato afterwards. It was a fabulous two days. I took a train the next day to Milan, which I didn't really like out of the 5 cities. I met a friend on the bus to the airport, and we chatted and had coffee before we had to catch our flights. I once again snuck more bags on the Ryanair flight than is supposed to be allowed. I swear I'm going to get caught one day. But I only have one more Ryanair flight, so wish me luck. You can even pray if you want. I just hate paying the check-a-bag fee, cuz its like 18 pounds. I arrived in Glasgow around 1 am after taking a bus from Prestwick airport into Glasgow and met Ally, my couch surfer, at Oran Mor, a church-turned-club on the west side of Glasgow. I will say it makes me sad to see so many old, gorgeous churches here defaced. It's amazing how many churches in Scotland are bars and malls. It kind of breaks my heart. So much history destroyed. I love old buildings and the stories behind places, so seeing a church or a cathedral that has completely lost its charm in the name of a bar is disheartening. Not to say I don't like clubs. I do. But why a church? seriously.
After a run in the park on this beautiful day in Glasgow, I met up with Cairene and her friends, and Cairene's room mate Fiona made dinner for us. They are awesome. They have connections with RUF because they've been to the States so many times and because their home church (they are from Inverness but go to Uni in Glasgow) has connections with some of the PCA churches in America. It is weird hearing a Scottish person talk about RUF. It really made me miss that part of my life. We sat around eating sweets and popcorn and proper Scottish soda (i cant remember the name) and discussed wedding plans (Fiona is getting married in a couple months....p.s. her fiance, Roddy, is one of the best photographers I've seen..his photos i saw today were so incredible) and differences between the States and the UK. I feel so at home with Cairene and her friends; it's amazing how just one evening hanging out can spark a friendship when people have a lot in common. I'm sort of sad to leave tomorrow after just getting to their flat. But it will be awesome to see Rhona and meet Cairene's younger sister and Rhona's other friend, Suzi, who apparently has a lot in common with me. I thought I would be sick of traveling by Scotland--and I am tired--but I also feel so at home here. I think Scotland has been my favorite place in the UK. Although I do very much love England...I think I'm realizing once again how big the world is...why cant places be closer? How will I come back here?

home is wherever I'm with you...

I wish I could keep everyone in my life updated more easily. there are so many people i want to talk to and definitely not enough time on other people's computers to tell everyone whats up lately. also, the "z" is in the place of the "y" on german keyboards, so tzping is slightlz annozing.
My money slowly...well, not slowly...fastly...dwindling and that is kind of scary and makes me have a knot in my stomach. I am spending veeeery little money except for really expensive train and bus tickets and flight changes. thankfully, a bit of very unexpected money fell from the sky the other day, and the burden on my back felt much lighter. thank you, You Know Who You Are. I cant tell you how much of a blessing that was. Then the girls and I journeyed to Esslingen, Germany where my bro-in-law's old high school friend is from, and he insisted on paying for and providing for us for everything. I had the best time. We all did. More on that in a moment.
The 25th, we caught an early train to Salzburg. I actually had 3 tickets to salzburg, which you learned about in my last message. i'm trying to let that wasted $80 go. it's not easy. Before hopping on the train, i bought another strawberry and cream cheese pastry, and it was phenomenal. My poor little body is just not taking this new diet well. my fingernails are peeling for lack of protein, my hair is dry, and my tummy is...very there. ha, i sound like i'm complaining, but i'm really not. I am loving this. I'm also really excited to come home. I'm excited to not be obsessed with every penny i spend, and not always have a nostalgic need to talk about what I'm going to do as soon as I get home with melanie and lindsey. melanie can relate. my sweet memphis friend. She's a great addition to my life.
We fell in love with Salzburg the moment we arrived. The small city is framed by snow-capped Alps and a general attitude of generosity. We activated our eurail pass at the train station and then got on a smaller train to our couch-surfer's home. Her house was not hard to find, and a field of cows greeted us as we turned onto her street. She lives in the tiny village of Anthering and gets her milk fresh from those welcoming cows. She would. Her name is Andrea, she's about 55 or so, married to sweet Frederick, who doesn't speak much English, and all her children are spread out around the world. She was our mom for the night and provided comfy beds, breakfast, and a guided tour the next day through the city for the entire day. Unbelievable graciousness. During our drive to start our little 4 person tour, mel and I fell asleep in the back seat of her car. I can't lie--this constant travel is wearing us out. We woke up as soon as we arrived to the Von Trapp house (from the movie...not the real von trapp estate) and exclaimed with glee. For those of you who dont know, I spent the majority of my childhood in front of my grandmother's (Mama Lou) tv, watching the Sound of Music, memorizing every precious Do-Rei-Mi of the songs, and eating Swansen chicken pot pies. Anyway, we got our fair share of pictures of the Von Trapp's estate, as well as the gazebo where they sang "16 going on 17", the Abbey, the fountain the children danced around, and Mozart's birthplace. It was a wonderful day, and we sadly had to leave quickly to catch our train to Stuttgart, Germany at 4 on the afternoon of the 26th. Upon arriving in Stuttgart, Scott's high school friend, Arndt, was waiting for us with a red sign, saying "welcome to germany, lindsey, stephanie, and melanie!". Also there was a picture his 3 year old son had drawn of Stuttgart's telephone tower. Arndt greeted us with a huge hug and we drove in his van/car the 20 minutes to his family's home in Esslingen. We listened to AC/DC's "shook me all night long" in the car, which was awesome, because Arndt cranked it up, and Melanie sang at the top of her lungs. That night we had german bread and swiss cheese, brie, and some other cheese that was german and too hard to remember the name of. it was a great meal, and little did we know, every meal for dinner the next 3 nights. cheese and bread is the thing here, i think. Both a major part of my diet, but also maybe overdone at the moment for me.
Side note that i just remembered: i met two deaf people in Prague and then saw two more in germany. Both parties seemed to be doing American Sign Language. Kind of crazy, since every country has their own sign language. The Czech people understood my signing...Mel and Lindsey were charmed. ha. i never get tired of sign language and other people's reactions.
Ok, back to Esslingen. One of my favorite parts of the trip was meeting Jonas (Yone-us), Arndt and his wife Mirjam's son. He's almost 4, loves rabbits (his parents are getting him one for his birthday), chocolate, me, melanie, and lindsey very much. I very much loved how much Jonas made me laugh and how much we made him laugh. This family was inspiring to me. They make me want to have a family. To be hospitable and host people in my home. To stuff sweet foods and yummy delicacies down their throats. As we walked around little town Esslingen, Jonas would come up, scoop up my hand in his, and we would meander together down the road. I love how he would talk to me in his German kid voice, and although I had no idea what he was saying, we bonded. I wrote him a note before we left for Switzerland, and when Arndt translated it for him, he apparently said "I don't want a note, i want my girls to stay here!" Sweet boy. When he found out we were actually leaving, he said "my girls are LEAVING?"
Our last day in the city, we walked around Stuttgart (i definitely just made that "g" and "f" at first..ha) with Arndt's dad. He knows some English, but not a ton. We had so much fun with him, going to a monument built for a former king's wife, as well as to the Mercedes museum (Stuttgart is the home of Mercedes, btw). For some reason, I loved the Mercedes museum. I don't know what it was about the cars. They're CARS. I wistfully roamed from car to car, running my hand over the hoods, checking the doors to see if they were unlocked. I never thought I wanted a Mercedes. Today I do. I probably will tomorrow too. As we drove with Arndt's dad to our next stop, we discovered how much of a speed demon he is for a 65 year old. He got mad at a driver and yelled "go home, sleepy tot!" We laughed so hard. Random German fact: they wear their wedding rings on their right hand. Engagement rings are worn on the left hand as a promise, and then on the wedding day, the ring is put on the right hand. crazy.
TUCS brand crackers are the best, by the way. theyre like Ritz, but better texture. Also, I eat more granola and cereal when I travel than I ever have before. My other favorite travel food is banana chips.
On Sunday, we went to church with Mirjam, while Arndt's parents cooked a big lunch for us at home (they all live in the same big house...its so cool...his parents have their own little apartment below Mirjam and Arndt). The only two parts of the sermon I caught were the Lord's Prayer and the "The Lord Bless you and Keep you" for the benediction. It was a Lutheran church, we found out later when the pastor spoke to us in English. I loved the church. It made me miss traditional services. It also made me miss going to church with my Methodist grandparents and hearing my grandfather preach from the pulpit on Sunday mornings occasionally.
We left this morning from Germany, and it honestly felt like leaving family. I had so much fun with the Rosenbaurs (Arndt and his family), and I dont know when I'll see them again...When we left, Arndt bought us coffees and sweet breakfast breads for our train ride. We tried to say no, but alas, he wouldnt take no for an answer.
We arrived in Switzerland at 2 pm today. We arrived in sort of grumpy moods, knowing that as beautiful as this country is, it's also so so so expensive. And I think we were just so tired from 11 days of travel thus far. however, after catching an expensive train from Geneva, Switz to the little town of Allaman, our spirits perked. we met the girl we're couch surfing with. Her name is Hannah. She's from West Africa, but her dad is American, and her mom is irish. She's about 5 foot tall, cute as can be, and drives a little stick shift, beat-up SUV. She is married to a guy she met on a ship, and they live in this little village where they can afford the rent. Best part: they're Christians. It is so refreshing to be in this welcome home of Believers who love hiking and opening their home to people. We are all sitting around her house at the moment, listening to music and smelling cinnamon candles. Tomorrow, Hannah got off of work at her job at Starbucks so that she can show us around the area with her car. That way we won't have to spend so much money on public transport. We will have to help her with gas...
I'm a bit astounded at how much God is providing for me during this trip...I went on a run through the village today, and listened to Rock of Ages by Sandra McCracken. "The skys will wear out, but You remain the same...Rock of Ages, we praise Your Name". Its hard to imagine the skies or the mountains wearing out in Switzerland. It's also hard to imagine Someone more majestic than the Alps. How beautiful that is! It's going to be really cool to meet Him...

barcelona to prague

During my run this morning along the streets of prague, i thought again how extremely surreal this is, as well as how blessed i am. a constant thought i'm having: ok, Lord. this is amazing. Things are going really well. i'm prepared at any given moment for something to go wrong. And i'll just roll with it...
It's funny when things go well. i long for that smooth sailing when in the midst of a crisis. but now that things are happening exactly as planned, if not way better, i don't know WHAT to do with it. it's just too good to be true. Barcelona rocked my world like Michael Jackson. Melanie and I stayed with 10 people in a rented apartment. I absolutely love our group. They were all from Swansea, and Americans. I don't know why I havent been hanging out with them the whole time. We went on a bike ride through the city, walked around, shopped, went to the beach, partied some. It was a blast. Melanie and I always feel so taken care of by the group of guys who were with us. Stephen Harris, Stephen Rose, Billy, Pat, and Ryan. They were precious. Most of the weekend was spent laughing hysterically. The first night I was in Barcelona, I stayed by myself with a couch-surfer in a section of town called "Bellaterra". It was beautiful. Ritzy part of town. I woke up the next morning to "the kiss" from the Last of the Mohicans soundtrack. that sort of made me laugh. As I looked outside at the gorgeous view, the climatic part of the song played. I went downstairs to find one of the spanish guys, whose room I had apparently been given (he was totally fine with this), working out on the patio and listening to the last of the mohicans soundtrack off his computer, propped in the window. I told him there's nothing like imagining Daniel Day Lewis climbing that mountain to pump you up while lifting weights. He didn't understand be because he's spanish. I resumed our conversation using only spanish. He (his name was joseph) graciously offered to take me to the airport. It threw me off that the car was a toyota suv, with the steering wheel on the left side of the car. Then driving on the left side of the road made me almost convinced the UK's driving system felt more natural. But as we drove, it felt more at home, and I missed America for a second. I took the Ferrocarril train back into Barcelona to meet my wonderful friends, billy and pat, at the apt. they had just come from dublin for st. patrick's day. they were tired and maaaaybe hungover. i was so excited to see familiar faces, but they crashed as soon as the apt owner let us in. so I went on a walk around the area where we were staying (called the Barrio Gotico region...very center of the city beside the big street, La Rambla). As I walked down La Rambla, I found bunnies and chickens for sale. I almost bought a bunny. Then I remembered I had a 4 week trip ahead of me with only a backpacking backpack. p.s. Philip, this has been amazing to have. It's just the right size for me to carry it on the plane and not have to check it. Although, I have tucked other purses/my camera under my jacket to sneak onto the plane, since we're only allowed one item of hand luggage under 10 kg.

The 4 days in Barc were amazing. My favorite part was riding bikes around the city. I took a picture of a guy and his dog asleep together on the side of the road. Well, I thought he was asleep. I noticed in the picture later that he had inconspicuously shown me his middle finger, while his eyes were closed. My friends told me he was homeless. THAT made me feel like an idiot...The weekend ended with a wonderful night sitting around the living room chatting. Our tipsy friends made melanie and I laugh so hard our tummys hurt and our eyes watered. Note: melanie and I were not tipsy. maybe that's why it was so funny. Quote one of our amazing friends who shall remain nameless: "Its just a really big pet peeve of mine when my room mates don't put my laundry in the dryer for me. No seriously. I text them from class and they're like asleep or something". My new name after the weekend is "steph-a-lephanie". It suits me.

Sigh. well, i took a break from writing, hung out around Prague today, and now i realize that this is what I was talking about when I mentioned the constant thought I've been having. I bought a ticket to austria for the wrong day, and so since its non-refundable, i tried to buy another one. clicking on the right day, i purchased it, and then. the ticket i printed off had the wrong day again!! i was so upset. i tried to call the czech railways help line. but no. the english speaking rep. did not speak english, and made me feel dumb. so i have now spent 58 euros in useless tickets. for the same exact train. I don't really know what to do. but I think the receptionist here at the hostel, who speaks czech, is going to call the station for me and help me out. I hate feeling helpless. the poor receptionist who saw me talking on the phone in a heated conversation looked at me very sadly as I began to cry. i hate crying when i'm mad. why is that the reaction? I MISS AMERICA RIGHT NOW.

I'm going back to the train station tomorrow to try to sort things out. i told melanie tonight that i may be forced to use a begging action, "look at me. have you ever been 21? have you ever made stupid mistakes? well this is mine. please have mercy on me and give me my money back." if that doesnt work, i'll go out with a bang and say "screw you"...not really. Did I mention I love traveling? I really really do. I also don't have a lot of patience sometimes. Melanie and I talked later after we were sufficiently stressed about the ticket/the end of our trip when I am going to be stuck in venice for 3 days with no where to stay because mel and lindsey are going to greece, and I don't fly out until april 12th to scotland. and it's 40 euro to change my flight. Anyway, so we talked, and she said, "we just need to let God be in control. He's going to take care of us." She's right. He has taken care of us so much already.

So tomorrow is our last day in Prague. Hopefully I can get a new ticket to salzburg for the day after tomorrow, and we'll be on our way to our next destination. I think i'm getting a cold. But I have a roll of toilet paper next to my bed.

bonjour and au revoir, dear city

HELLO. i am mucho behind. time to get with it. let's begin with last week some time. Someone said the nicest thing to me. I always remember the super nice things, and they make a mark in my memory. this was was by Simone, my room mate's girlfriend. She said, "Your expressions are lovely. Like your gestures and everything You're very welcoming." That pretty much made my whole week. I had so much fun hanging out with Simone and Chris, even though it was only in the kitchen of our measly house. We had a house dinner that night, and i drank too much wine. The thing is, too much is not much for me. So how do i know when to stop? After it's all over. We had duck, chicken, polish soup, home made pizza, old el paso tacos, my apple pie, starbust jelly beans, dove chocolates, and ferrer rocher (spelling?) chocolate balls. we mixed lots of cultures, and it made me glad.

The next morning, Lindsey, her friend from home Rachel, and I headed to Paris at 4 in the morning. We didn't go to bed that night, so by the time we got on the train, we were f.r.i.e.d, like a funnel cake. We arrived in london, and after a few minor hassles, and way too much money for transportation later, we got on a plane (with so so much less hassle than our flight to belfast) to Paris. We arrived in Paris at 2:30 in the afternoon and took a train to Gare Du Nord, a train station near our host's house so that she could meet us. Her name is Paola. Side note: she is amazing. I used my amazing French speaking skills to get us tickets at the train station. I do mean not amazing, by the way. I knew about three phrases in French. By the way, as much as we love Paris and Parisians, people in Paris dont like Americans. Only a random few are actually charmed by the "ya'lls" and loud voices. Contrasting to the attitudes of the British, who mostly love Americans. So anyway, we get to Gare Du Nord, and I say, "Hey let's get flowers for Paola". While Lindsey and Rachel wait in a café, I hunt down some flowers in the train station. The guy didn't know English, but it was fun trying to talk to him and figure out prices. After he wrapped up three flowers for me, I realized they were 3.50 euro for EACH flower, and I was like "ooooh no no no....uhh...just uh...un fleur", while holding up the number one. He looks slightly peeved but gives me my request, re-wrapping the flowers. All the while I get a text from Paola asking where I am and that she's waiting for me outside. Dang it. Ok, while the guy tries to get my phone number (he's MAYBE 50), I say "ok um, i need to hurry". So I pay and flee with my silly little flower. I run up the stairs, and two random extremely gross-looking guys sidle up next to me and ask me for my number. No no no no. I sheepishly back away and go to find my friends. We meet up, and I say "let's go! paola is outside". So we run outside, find paola, and I shove the flower into her arms. "THANK YOU!" She's grateful, we chat all the way on the train to her friend's house where we're staying for the night. She was busy that night and couldn't keep us. The guys are precious precious, so so sweet. Steven and Tber. They have a wonderful flat with a little balcony, and they offer to make us a Moroccan dinner. We say we might join them when we get back from seeing the Louvre. So we rush off to the Louvre, thinking we have plenty of time. We don't. We get there and it's closing. So we're starving at this point and walk around paris to find some place to eat and maybe go by the tour eiffel (eiffel tower) to see the lights at night. We get so lost. For hours. We can't figure out how to get back to the guy's apartment, and THEN. the best part. my phone runs out of money. And i can't put more on it, cuz I'm not in the UK, and it's a UK phone. So we can't get ahold of the guys or paola to figure out directions to the guys house. Finally, after walking everywhere, snapping at each other, and stopping in mcdonalds to calm our hearts with some french fries and hot chocolate, us three crazy americans find the right bus and get back to the guy's. they're waiting for us to eat dinner. It's 2 in the morning. We feel really horrible, stuff some of their DELICIOUS food (Tber is an amazing cook) into our already full tummys, take showers, and fall asleep in the big bed they let us borrow for the night. Lindsey falls asleep in front of her computer, and I in my comfortable little ball, knees pulled up to my nose.

The next day, we get up and dressed, still a bit drowsy, and plan our day. We decide to go see the eiffel tower and walk around parks and such. To start the day, we get our pastries, my favorite thing called Pain au chocolate (croissant with chocolate in the middle)

They also had these delectable chocolates:

We walked around the city all day, taking fun pictures and being cold (i forgot my jacket in Wales...i would)....here's a few of the pictures we took. I love Paris, by the way. and I want to go back very soon. Some people I would love to see paris with: Philip, Ashleigh and her boyfriend (he speaks french), and amanda (because she would love it here and hasn't ever been). Also my mom and dad and my sisters would love paris. I wish they could be here with me.






That night, we ate at a luscious restaurant, and I tried escargot (!!). p.s. this:

=


It wasn't awful. just really salty and pesto-y and mushy. My pasta even had mushrooms in it, which you should be impressed about cuz i hate mushrooms. i think i was just really hungry.



We went to Montemarte (Mo-maht) also...this is where the movie Amelie was filmed. We saw several sites where the movie was filmed, and that made me so excited. It was GORGEOUS. I think montemarte is my favorite part of paris. the basilica called Sacré-Cœur is also in montemarte. got some pictures of that. I could also see a ton of paris from there which was awesome. While in montemarte, we met two precious guys (Aly and Adam) who showed us around and got us free chocolate crepes from his friend's crepe shop. They were delicious. They also took us to the Moulin Rouge, which I wasn't very impressed by. Too many lights. Looked too modern and reminded me of what i think las vegas looks like. I was sad to say goodbye to Aly and Adam, but I added them on facebook. Aly's best quote of the night, "I don't understand that american phrase 'go with the flow'. I just wonder, who is Flow?" ha. That night we went to Paola's and took funny pictures in front of this door with mirrors in part of it and windows in the other part of it.


Later we fell asleep watching Amelie. Woke up the next day and went to the Louvre. It was awesome. There, I had another Pain au Chocolate. I think chocolate in the morning is a good idea always. we saw Mona Lisa. I really liked her.


Then went to Notre Dame, and Lindsey and Rachel left to catch their flight back to London. I walked around aimlessly, got some of the best gelato I've ever had..it was part chocolate and part hazelnut/chocolate. That was like really good Nutella (which i am now addicted to, p.s.). I got a text from Paola's room mate while walking around and it said "where are you? we're worried about you". I felt awful, because we couldnt get in touch with her because I can't call or text anyone (cuz i have no money on my phone, remember?) But i can RECEIVE texts. sigh. So I walked around and tried to find an internet connection so I could at least email paola. I figured out that a mcdonald's had a connection, but i couldn't find mcdonalds. So I stopped a random person and asked my famous question "Excusemoi, vous parlez anglay?" (do you speak english...i think i just butchered the spelling). He said yes, and I asked him where McDonald's was. He said "Well, I know a place better than mcdonalds, but it is cheap same way. Just down the street. Here, I show you." I laugh and explain i need the internet, and he didn't really know how to help me. So I explained my dilemma and how i needed to get in touch with my couch-surfing host. He let me use his phone, and while we waited for a response for Paola's room mate (which we got eventually, and it was all fine then), we chatted, and I found out he is from Rome (and he is connected with couch surfing and might let me and lindsey and melanie stay with him in a few weeks! yay). We walked around some more and decided to go to Montemarte again. He is a cool guy, and after riding around on a train, we finally exchanged names. His name is Mirka. And he knew I had a boyfriend because we talked about how i was going to see him in May in South Africa (so dont worry, philip. smile). At montemarte, we saw the basilica again, and I got a painting for me and some souvenirs for my mom and sisters. Afterwards, I decided to go back to Paola's, cuz I was exhausted. I hung out there and watched Amelie AGAIN :) with Paola's room mate, Mery. Then I slept peacefully.

Today I woke up at 12 and since then I have been sitting in St. Christopher's Hostel, where my room mate from Knoxville, Hannah, is staying this week. I decided while I waited to write in my blog. I will continue to wait, because I must see her. We cannot be in the same city for 4 days and not see each other once. My flight leaves for London at 9:45 tonight. Also, I leave on Thursday for my 4 week excursion across europe with Lindsey and Melanie.

For those of you interested, by the way, here is my itinerary for the 4 weeks. If you aren't interested, stop reading now. :D

March 18-22: Barcelona (staying in a rented apartment near the ocean with 12 American friends i have from Wales
March 22-25: Prague, Czech Republic (staying with Lindsey's good friend from home)
March 25-27: Salzburg, Austria (probably staying in a hostel)
March 27-29: Esslingen, Germany (Staying with my bro-in-law's good friend)
March 29-April 2: Geneva, Switzerland (staying with a sweet couch-surfer named Hannah)
April 2-April 5: Rome, Italy (maybe staying with my friend, Mirko, who I talked about up there ^ )
April 5-7: Florence, Italy (probably staying in a hostel)
April 7-12: Venice Italy (staying with Lindsey's good friend form home)
April 12-17: Inverness, Scotland (staying with my good friend, Rhona)
April 18: Arrive back in Swansea.

love you guys and miss you a ton.

i need a sandman

Rock of Ages, when the day seems long
From this labor and this heartache I have come
The skies will wear out, but You remain the same
Rock of Ages, I praise Your name.

Rock of Ages, You have brought me near
You have poured out Your life-blood, Your love, Your tears
To make this stone heart come alive again
Rock of Ages, forgive my sin

Rock of Ages, Rock of Ages
Bind your children til' your kingdom comes
Rock of Ages, Your will be done

Rock of Ages, when in want or rest
My desperate need for such a Savior I confess
Pull these idols out from my heart embrace
Rock of Ages, I need Your grace

Rock of Ages, broken, scorned for me
Who am I that You would die to make me free?
To give me glory, You took the death and pain
Rock of Ages, my offering

Rock of Ages, "It is done," You cried
The curtain's torn and I see justice satisfied
Now write Your mercy here on my heart and hands
Rock of Ages, in faith I stand

Rock of Ages, my great hope secure
Your promise holds just like an anchor to my soul
Bind your children with cords of love and grace
Rock of Ages, we give You praise


Some of the most encouraging words ever, especially recently. For some reason, sleep hasn't come easy for me in past weeks...during the day, i can nap with no problem...but at night it's like my mind is constantly awake. I listen to Sandra McCracken sing this all the time, as well as "In the Secret of His Presence", and it definitely calms my heart. If you have any scripture that you think would be encouraging, I'd love to hear some.

God is great, God is good

mmmmm I love people. All kinds of people. On the other hand, there are certainly some strange ones. It occurs to me on a daily basis now that it is absolutely imperative to let the strange ones be people. Most of them have good intentions, and most of the time they don't know they're being strange. I went to see my friend Zani at work today (more on that later...I have news), and as we sipped berry smoothies, Mr. Lawrence came over. Sweet man. I don't know him at all, but by the end our conversation I think he thought he knew me. I could barely understand a word of his broken welsh, not to mention the fact that he had one visible tooth in his mouth, slurring his speech further. He had on his proud welsh apparel, including a cowboy-style hat bearing the welsh insignia, as well as a patriotic scarf and sweater. He told me all about his obsession with cameras (i think) and how he had to spend money on absolutely everything. I could relate with that.

I got on the wrong bus today. Or maybe it was the right one that just took a long time. It got me where I wanted to go, but it took an hour to go the distance that normally takes about 15 minutes driving. I rode it with a bunch of middle school and high school kids. An older lady sat next to me and asked me where we were going. That's now the 5th time since I've been here that someone elderly has asked me for directions. And I can never help. But today we chatted, despite my ignorance of bus routes. She had a coupon for mcdonalds and asked me if I could use it. I said no thank you, so she turned to some high school kids and asked if they wanted it. poor lady, one kid barely acknowledged her, and the other ignored her! That made me mad. I almost turned to the lady and said "It's ok. They're too cool for anyone but kids their own age right now." But I knew the kids would have heard me. Perhaps they should have. Something I've realized, middle schoolers have really dirty mouths. I honestly couldn't believe some of words they were saying today. It makes me a bit sad that the world is closing in even more tightly around younger generations. Why can't kids stay in their happy bubble of blissful ignorance for a few more years? I loved that bubble.

Good news. The job I thought I wasn't going to get at the coffee shop where Zani works--I GOT IT! YAY! i'll only work every once in awhile. Some weekends, some sundays--whenever people need off or are sick. I'm so grateful for a bit of extra money. I'm going in this sunday to train and work a bit. I have to get a black shirt.

my european cracklin oat bran

I live off of these. I'm not kidding. 3 boxes a week. they're only 1 pound each and high in fiber.

how much learning do i have to do before i learn to do things right?

let's start with a brief prayer of thanks that traveling and planes and friends and ireland exist. now.

oooooooooh my heavens. what a weekend. I had mostly the greatest time ever mixed with a little chocolate delirium and a rather bitter assortment of inconveniences. I think I have never cussed as much I did this weekend (without a hint of remorse). And then on the other side of this paradoxical spectrum (well..i guess all spectrums are paradoxical..or maybe just opposite...p.s. is plural of spectrum a word? maybe it's spectri), I had so much fun laughing, giggling, crying, crying while laughing, dancing, gasping for breath, and freezing. I'll start with a random encounter I had recently in Swansea the other day. I was standing in the grocery store yawning because I hadn't slept much. I was waiting for a friend to pay. A man, probably 70, and probably the old man from the movie "Up" (but with a welsh accent), walked by, NOT MAKING EYE CONTACT, and mutters "ya tired?" Well, yawn interrupted, i answer "yes", but dont really know who it is I'm answering. Then he says, halfway out the door at this point and still not having made any eye contact, "well go to bed." the end.
Now, let me also preface this ridiculous story i'm about to tell you with: sleeping in through my alarm and pushing snooze has never proven profitable. every night when I go to bed, my mind forgets this logic. hence friday morning when I woke up at 1 pm. I had planned on waking up at 10, running, showering, going to the university to pick up my parent's package, going to class at 1, and then heading to the train station after my class ended at 1:45. false. wake UP at 1, hurriedly shower, check facebook to see if any of my travel buddies have said anything important, and--wait. Someone did send me something important. A message from Lindsey. Saying she missed her stop on the train, thereby missing her flight from Bristol to Belfast, Ireland and it would be about 100 pounds to change the flight. So she stayed in Swansea. No way. My heart sank. I got ready for the day, moving a bit more slowly in my dejected state, and then headed to the university. As I was on the bus I realized that it was now 2 pm, and my train was scheduled to leave at 2:28. It takes about 30 minutes to get to the rail station on a bus from the university, because the buses make so many stops. I wait for the bus for about 5 minutes and realize maybe that's not the best idea. Ok, new plan. I jump in a cab and tell the driver to drive like he had a pregnant wife in the passenger's seat. Not really. I just asked him to haul his caboose. When we're near the train station, it is about 2:22, and I still have to print out my tickets inside. So I asked him to stop and I sprinted across the street inside and stood in line behind two people. They took their precious time, and as I got up to the machine, it crashed. "nooooooo", i woefully moaned, and a train station man told me not to fret but to get on the train and tell the ticket-taker my situation. Ok, good. With 1 minute to spare, I leapt onto the train just as the man was closing the doors. The train started to move before I'd even gotten my seat. It was very romantic.
I found Melanie, whose face flooded with relief upon seeing me. "I just knew you weren't going to come!!" she said. I sat down, shaking, and told her about my morning. or afternoon. Then we mourned the absence of Lindsey and talked about how funny it was that things had been going so smoothly so far, aside from nearly missing the train and Lindsey not being with us. I talked about how I felt like I had a plan so laid out for the next year or so, including my travels for this semester, and everything was falling into place nicely. Then I said, "but you know. I feel like it's not going to be that pleasant and happy. I feel like God has more of a sense of humor than to let everything happen with no bumps in the road." Really, if there were no bumps in the road, there would be less to laugh about. Also, there would be way fewer lessons learned and stored in my life's book of acquired wisdom. I know some people say they aren't kinesthetic learners, but i don't believe them. Maybe academically they are auditory or visual, but I still think most people learn how life works by doing it. After that depthful (someone special made up that word, and i think it's a necessary one to use) conversation, we arrived in bristol, met up with my dear friend Hope, and took the bus to the airport. Upon arriving, famished, we agreed to get Subway after we had checked in. During check in, Hope pulled out a copy of her passport. The lady told her she needed the real thing. Hope's school had told her that if she brought her passport with her, she might lose it, so she should just carry a copy of it with her everywhere. Apparently not. Hope wasn't allowed to get on the plane, sorry, no can do, next time. I cried. Hope told me not to because she was trying not to. Melanie sat with us sympathetically. The stupidest thing is that Belfast really had been her idea and it was something she had been looking forward to for weeks. So Hope went back to Worcester, and Melanie and I went through security to go to the boarding gate. Not without hastle there. Apparently, my liquids weren't stored right or in small enough containers, so into the rubbish bin went my Dove hair-tamer. It was only $4 and 1/2 empty, but after that long day, I felt tears well up in my eyes. Melanie had to throw away her $16 hair gel. Then we managed to get to the gate and decided to get food. We bought food and hot chocolate and waited until our flight was ready to board. Upon showing our boarding passes, the attendant informed us that the passes hadn't been stamped, and we needed to go back to the front of the airport and have this done or we couldn't board the plane. "WHAT? the lady at the front told us we didn't NEED a stamp and just signed her name," I quickly interjected. The woman shrugged and told us that if we hurried we might still make the plane. We literally sprint back through security to the front of the airport, got one simple stamp from these random people and sprinted back to the gate. Just in time. We got on the plane and the flight was uneventful. So we get to Belfast and take a cab to Melanie's friend, Ashley's dorm room (Ashley is from UT) at Queen's University. Queen's is really strict and visitors must be checked in before 7 pm, and if they aren't checked in, they can only stay until 11 pm. Also only one visitor is allowed per room, and only 3 visitors are allowed per semester. Genius idea, really it is. Did I mention there are walls around the dorm campus with barbed wire on top? Prison or College? The jury is still waaay out on that.

It was only 9 pm, so we went to Ashley's room. Ashley said I could sleep in the twin bed with Melanie, and Ashley would sleep on the floor. Did I also mention how amazing Ashley is? That word doesn't actually measure up to how great she is. Most giving, gracious girl ever. I was supposed to be staying in a hostel with Hope while Melanie stayed with Ashley in her dorm room. But without Hope, I didn't want to try to navigate my way around Belfast to a strange hostel. So Ashley let me stay with them. I'm going to repay her somehow.

We decided to go out that night to a club called Rain with Ashley and several of her friends, Gary, Eli, and some other people. It was a blast. So much fun. But by 2 in the morning, we were ready to go home, so we took a cab to a wonderful after-drinking Lebanese kebab place called "Gilgamesh" and shared these incredible chips (European word for fries, for people who don't know) with cheese sauce and grilled chicken off the kebab. It was heavenly. Or maybe we were just tipsy. Then we walked back to the dorms in the freaking cold only to remember...I haven't been checked in, and there are security guards out front who will not let me in. Great. Ashley tried to find a place for us to stay outside of the dorms, and I brought up, "hey, let's just sneak over the wall". Melanie objected, saying that could get Ashley kicked out. But I decided it was a great idea, found a tree that looked climbable and that led to the other side of the gate to paradise. In my strapless dress and with a boost up from Gary, I climbed the tree (and this is me with it the next day) and sat on a big branch until everyone else came to the other side to rescue me. With help down, I made it safely to the other side and felt both hard core and cold. That night, Mel and I slept snug in Ashley's bed, head to foot, and Ashley curled up on her floor. The next day, Saturday, I called Hope's room mates who we had been planning on hanging out with during the weekend and figured out they were going to take their rented car to the Giant's Causeway that day. So me and Melanie went with the amazing trio of Phenomenal Natalie (from New Zealand..which i think has a better accent than Australia), Hilarious everyone-likes-her Beth, and Sweet Emma. It was such a fun trip. We took the A2 (with Scott's advice) all along the coast to the causeway, and the drive was almost better than the view at the end of it. Here's some of the pictures I took at the Causeway:





The drive home we were so sleepy and hungry, so we stopped at the Grouse to eat where we met an old man, whose name was "Billy William McCartney", who proceeded to talk to us throughout our meal because his table with his two friends was right next to ours. Billy was from the city where we stopped to eat (called Ballymena), but to quote him, "Me mum is scottish, me dad is irish, i don't know." He made us laugh so hard. Then before he left, he tossed a $20 Bank of Ireland note (bill) on the table and said "my contribution". He made our day. As I left the table, I thought about how much I wanted to say "Don't you think Heaven will have food like that?" But then I realized only two of us would really appreciate that thought, and I kind of missed being able to talk about Jesus with people. The UK, by the way, has some of the most amazing people I have ever met and who are a lot more loving than many Christians I know. They have beautiful hearts. I really wish I could be like that. While having my faith.

That evening we came back to Ashley's to find a glorious very wide assortment of snacks she had collected that day for us to pig out on that night. Can i just say something? I once had a dream about people who liked to eat chocolate as much as me, but I didn't know they existed until this trip. Ashley and Melanie take the chocolate cake at being able to put down some serious cocoa. I thought about calling us the 3 musketeers all weekend simply because we love chocolate so much. We ate so much of it that many passersby assumed we were drunk. not so, my friends. They're called endorphins. Our snacks consisted of: A pint of Ben and Jerry's half-baked ice cream, an entire container of Nutella (which we put on bread, cookies, chocolate bars, and our fingers), cookies, brownies, a giant Lindt chocolate bar, and some strange tiny versions of those chocolate hazelnut-filled Pirouettes. With full, sick, remarkably delighted tummys, we went to bed that night (except this time I slept in one of ashley's room mate's beds, who went out of town on Saturday until Monday) and slept wonderfully. The evidence:




The next day was Sunday and we were going to go to church but missed the opportunity. So we walked around Belfast and found some really cute shops. Melanie found a jersey for the Manchester United soccer team (David Beckham's old family) and she was so excited with this purchase. Near Victoria Square, the chocolate triplets found Thornton's chocolate shop, which Scott suggested, so we stopped in and bought two truffles each. They were delish. We stopped in the Belfast welcome center, and I managed to find a really nice shirt for very cheap. or should i say: sheap.

...I bought it....

After a long day, a tuna/jalapeño/sweet corn/pepper baguette, a scone with nutella on top, and a chat with Philip, we 3 settled down for a long winter's nap. Today Melanie and I went home without a hitch. We laughed much of the way home from lots of exhaustion and perhaps from coming off of an intense sugar high. Oh how I wish Hope and Lindsey had been with our crew.

Tomorrow I have two classes, then I'm cooking for Matthew and Adam since I like to cook and because they very generously take us to all sorts of places. After that, my friend Zani, from Cafe Ole asked me come watch chick flicks with her. I can't pass that up. And, oh happy day, Wednesday I have an interview for a small position at Cafe Ole. Zani says it's in the bag. We'll see.