Dublin The Flavor, Dublin The Fun

Many weekends ago, (I know, I'm extremely behind, I suck), I went to Dublin. Now, my sister, Katie, and my Uncle Danny told me that they were very upset about not being included in my blog thus far. I have referenced my mom, my friends, and even one of Katie's best friends, but not them. So, I thought it would be funny to not include them in this post at all, even though I spent the weekend with them, just to tick them off. Then, I realized that would be cruel, because everyone mentioned in my blog becomes an instant celebrity, and I couldn't rob them of that precious celebrity-hood, so the tales of our exploits follow.

So, first things first, when I got to Dublin, I managed to get myself a little lost in a sketchy part of town. Luckily, I was able to ask a some drunk men in a pub the way to the B & B where Katie and I were staying. Nothing like getting lost and telling a bunch of inebriated strangers your address to start a trip off right. Once I reached our B & B I had a very solid welcoming committee: the one and only, Katie Eissler. Note: In this post Katie will be known interchangeably as Katie, Kate, Katie-Kate, Seester, Big Bean, or Strange Bird. Almost immediately after putting my stuff in our room we went to go meet up with one of my other favorite people ever, my Uncle Dan. Note: In this post Uncle Dan will be known as Uncle Dan or Uncle Danny. That guy had been wreaking havoc in Dublin for the past week or so already, but Strange Bird and I had no intentions of following in his footsteps in that regard.

We headed to the Arlington Hotel for some dinner and a show. At first they had a band play, then Irish dancers came out, and then the band once again. Like an entertainment Oreo, if you will. We all concluded that if we tried to dance like that we would have a heart attack, but the dancers didn't seem phased in the least. The bad thing about these kind of dinners is that they are interactive. I always find myself in this jumpy state of fear where I am praying nobody will pull me up on stage to do something I have absolutely no talent for in front of all these people I don't know. Even when I don't have to do something I still don't want performers to interact with me in some way. That's why I hate Cats, the Broadway show, so much. There is no reason for people dressed at cats, one of the most odious creatures on the planet, to come into the audience and essentially assault people. Why do you have to do that?! Do you find it enjoyable to dress up as a feline and crawl on my lap? Are you a Furry? No? Then, just stay up on the stage where you belong!....My apologies for that rant. Anyway, my fears were unfounded because I was not asked to come up on the stage. These performers even appeared to be pretty respectful and listened to people as they vigorously shook their heads no and maintained a death grip on their chair. Overall, the music and dancers were pretty awesome. The band played Galway Girl, so I was very happy. The dinner was also very good as well. Dinner came with an appetizer, main course, and dessert, so I chose this ham hock with brioche for an appetizer, lamb stew for my entree, and for the dessert I seem to remember chocolate and Bailey's taking place. Also, to honor my grandmom, I got a Bailey's coffee. It was all for you, Grandmom!

The next morning Kate and I headed down to the breakfast that the B & B provided. It was a "full Irish breakfast," but it was missing some essential items, like black and white pudding, fried tomatoes, and beans. Not like I would probably eat a lot of that anyway, but it's always super comforting to know it's there. For those of you who are surprised I wouldn't eat the pudding, if you come to visit we can go get some when you're here and we can see what you think then about "pudding." We then headed out for a day of exploration.

In Temple Bar (area, not public house, remember?) there is this totally kick-butt vintage and jewelry place that I am pretty sure is called May Fly. I found it one time when I had been in Dublin before, and I thought Seester would like it, so we went there. They just have some really interesting pieces, most of which are made by the people who own the store, like rings with legos, typewriter letters, Scrabble letters, or computer keys, purses made out of records, casettes mutated into wallets, tiny harmonica cufflinks, and earrings in all shapes and sizes (like mini keys, which I may or may not have purchased). The last time I was there I kept checking out this old pocketwatch that the lady suspended on a necklace..... It's also really helpful because now I have a watch and always know that the time is 9:30. Plus, I also can live out my Flavor Flav fetish without being too ostentatious with a regular-sized clock around my neck. It's just a baby clock.

I know some of you may consider this next statement sad, and for those of you who do believe it's sad, you should know that you are everything that is wrong with this world. Statement: I was not going to leave Dublin until I visited the jewelry store, Gollum's Precious. In what could possibly one of the greatest naming-jobs of all time, Gollum's Precious no doubt has the nerdiest, (but awesomest), customer population among jewelry stores. The store itself was nothing crazy. I was kind of expecting a certain vibe from it, but it seemed like a standard jewelry store.

I apologize for not capturing the true essence of Gollum. It's really hard to stay in character when you're in the middle of a crowded strip mall full of people judging you.

Located close to Temple Bar is Dublin Castle. Dublin Castle is a little weird to visit because of its placement, or since I guess it was there first, the placement of the city and buildings around the castle. The castle just suddenly pops up in the middle of one of the busier areas of the city. Strangely enough the best vantage point to view the castle is to stand in the middle of a parking lot, and the castle is in front of you, and to the left of you is an office building. We didn't explore inside, but we did go into the chapel that was added on at a later date, and that was very beautiful, though small, with some really intricate wood carvings.

Thank goodness! I was so worried I wouldn't be able to get that Mazda in the foreground!

Guinness. A name so synonymous with Ireland that I have heard there have been talks to change the country name to New Guinness....like New Guinea? Sorry, bad joke. Well, the Guinness factory is flocked to by tourists and alcoholics alike. The day that we visited the factory, Guinness had started a campaign to make St. Patrick's Day the Happiest Day of the Year. I tried to sign my name to make it the Happiest Day of the Year, but I was rejected. Not by Guinness. Guinness was glad to have me. I was rejected by the ol' US of A. Since I am under 21, apparently the  America can still reach out its claws of "justice" and keep me from doing something that relates to alcohol in the slightest way. Thanks a bunch Uncle Sam for helping to ruin the Happiest Day of the Year! I was quickly perked up when I realized there were free photobooths around. Katie was none too excited, because it is impossible to look good in photobooth pictures, and apparently she is fond of not looking like an idiot. I, on the other hand, have no qualms with appearing to be a deranged imbecile, so I jumped in right away. The product was 4 pictures worthy to be included in National Geographic's Best Photographs of the Year.

My inspiration for the bottom right panel was to have the dead eyes of a stripper.

Seester was the 366 person to sign the pledge. No, not that pledge.

The factory itself was what you made out of it. You could spend a lot of time in each part and read about the brewing, packaging, advertising, etc., or you could blow past everything and just head right up to the bar--a choose-your-own-adventure book for adults. Katie and I took the middle route and checked out everything, but didn't read everything in depth. I decided against learning how to pour a pint of Guinness, (there was a lot of pressure, maybe next time), but we did make sure to try out the station where you test Guinness on all your senses where much hilarity ensued. The last stop on the tour is the Gravity Bar where you are poured a free Guinness while in a circular glass bar that overlooks Dublin. Dublin does not have the prettiest skyline in the world, but it was still neat to see everything, and you were able to see the Wicklow Mountains in the distance, so that was neat. It was pretty crowded when we were there, so I can't imagine what it's like when it's actually tourist season.

Observing the beer.

Listening to the beer. Like the ocean in a seashell.

Damn straight they do.

Glistening in the sun.

Seesters4lyfe.

Wicklow Mountains in the distance. I thought this would be a good time to remind you that I climbed a mountain.

Katie and I did the math, and if you took every opportunity they gave you to get free Guinness you could get 2.25 free pints. Given the average price for a pint of Guinness in a pub, you are actually better off buying the admission into the factory than you are buying the beer at a pub. Isn't basic math fun?

So trendy with her shorts and tights.

Somebody's cocky.

We took the Hop-on Hop-off bus back, and recuperated from the day for a little while in our B & B. It's good that we did, because I don't think I would have been able to make it through the marathon that was dinner that night. We met up with my Uncle Dan again at his baller hotel. From there we headed to a restaurant called The Pig's Ear where I am fairly certain they didn't serve the ears of pigs. Uncle Dan insisted on going all out for this meal, and I must admit I didn't try as hard as I could have to resist this. In the end this dinner was absolutely phenomenal. The three of us ended up sharing this salmon appetizer and 2 of these pressed terrine of rabbit (whatever that means) appetizers. Yes, I ate Thumper, and he was fantastic. For entrees, Uncle Dan got ribeye, Strange Bird got pork belly, and I got the traditional Irish dish of shepherd's pie. I've actually never had shepherd's pie before, but I can tell you that this was absolutely one of the best I will ever have in my life. I'm used to seeing the slop that they throw together at the cafeteria, but this was nothing like that. I don't know what was up with the crust, since I know it's supposed to be mashed potatoes, but they had perfectly cooked it so was almost a extremely soft pie crust texture. Instead of ground beef they used lamb. For dessert, Uncle Danny got brown bread ice cream (what?!?!) with cinnamon apples and honeycomb, Katie-Kate got a really rich chocolate tart with salted caramel ice cream, and I got this amazeballs vanilla cheesecake with raspberry jam and a graham cracker crust that was cooked in a jar. My reckoning is that they put it in the jar because they know how good it is and how fast people will eat it, so the jar forces people to slow down. Obviously, The Pig's Ear didn't know who they were dealing with when I came to town, because I devoured that thing with the force of a hurricane while simultaneously stealing bites off of Uncle Dan and Big Bean's plates. I heard once that a meal is not completely over when you are full, it's completely over when you hate yourself. Mission accomplished.

So cute....and delicious....
Picture courtesy of Wikimedia.

I'm sorry you always have to see food in its half-eaten state. I think it give it a "weathered" look.

Jealous? You should be.

A family of models.

Sadly, the next morning Uncle Danny was heading back to the U.S. I think the Ireland bug bit him before he left, though, so I'm sure he'll be back. And, no, his hotel did not have bedbugs. I'm just saying, it would be super fun if he could come for another visit with Kim...Hintity hint hint, Uncle Dan.

The next day, we finished up our breakfasts and headed out to Trinity College. Katie had been there a couple days before and wasn't that impressed. I enjoyed looking around, but I didn't find it to be as spectacular as everyone had led on. Given, we did not go to look at the library and the Book of Kells, but the Trinity buildings definitely reminded me of an American university. I can't exactly remember which one I am thinking of because my mom and I visited around 50 schools, and some of them have started to blur together, but we have some beautiful universities too.

You're not allowed on the grass. I guess that means no college kids playing frisbee. Sad.

From there we walked over to St. Stephen's Green. It is quite the lovely park. I kept picturing it with women in petticoats and parasols and men with suits and top hats (very A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of Grande Jatte), but, alas, just people in jeans and Abercrombie. I had also heard about another little park that was better than St. Stephen's and less crowded called the Iveagh Gardens. I'm sure these normally would have been super nice in the spring, but while we were there it was like a cemetery for plants.

No, this isn't a photograph I took, shockingly enough.
Picture courtesy of Wikipedia.

The Muffin Man lives here.

Both Kate and I had read about this place called Cake Cafe, which I think is a stupid name and so I will from here on out be calling it Cake Baby after "Bridesmaids."  We quite literally found ourselves walking down an alleyway to find Cake Baby. Then, out of the blue, instead of being garage doors with the paint peeling off and graffiti there was a gateway that led into a small courtyard with tables and mosaic-lined walls. It was definitely a very odd location; it would be as if someone dropped a Build-A-Bear into the middle of the Camden ghetto. Besides the strange placement of the establishment it was very pleasant. They had many wonderful desserts placed out on the counter for you to gawk at before ordering. They also had a massive list of teas that took forever to choose between.

Once done our satisfying tea and crumpet session it was back to Temple Bar to check out Porterhouse Brewery because Katie is classy and enjoys trying fancy beers. Since Katie was sick we had a good time trying to share the glasses without me becoming infected with her ebola-like virus. Once the danger had safely passed we went back to the B & B crash for a bit.

Big Bean has been going through exotic food withdrawal since being in France, and she was craving some Thai food (specifically Pad Thai), so, to appease her, for dinner we went to a place called Thai Orchid. I don't know if I've ever had exclusively Thai food before. I always go to sketchy places that are kind of like a free-for-all under the all-encompassing title of "Asian." For my first actual Thai meal I got stir fry with chicken in oyster sauce. Yummers.

Stay tuned for what happens when Strange Bird and I go to Galway...

Paris? I Thought This Was Siberia

Like a turkey the day before Thanksgiving, I am still in the process of thawing. A couple weekends ago, our API group, as well as the API groups from Limerick, Cork, and Dublin, traveled to Paris, and even though it was extremely beautiful there, I cannot emphasize enough how absolutely frigid it was. Many times it was terrifically painful to just walk and move around. After a day of touring, we would feel like old women with our achy joints creaking away in our rocking chairs. Well, no rocking chairs, but yes to the achy joints. We made our first blunder pretty immediately upon arriving in Paris when we chose to eat our pain au chocolats while walking to the Eiffel Tower instead of sitting in the cafe. Rookie mistake. Little did we know the excruciating burning pain our poor digits were in for. It was a miracle I took any pictures, and it explains why I took so few overall, (at least in comparison to how many tourists in Paris normally take).

Now that I have being a little whiny girl out of the way, we can move on to bigger and better things. The weekend in Paris was really incredible. Both my eyes and my stomach feasted well. Disclaimer: I’m just going to let you all know now, I will be going into extreme, sometimes even graphic, detail of the foods I ate. If that’s not your cup of tea, or as fat people like myself say, not your platter of fried bacon dipped in honey sprinkled with Lucky Charms and M & Ms, then maybe you shouldn’t press on. For those of you who are daring enough to read on, I ask you to pass no judgments against me. We’re all fatties here. I had what some people that I know would term as a “Fat Lizzy weekend.”

It's amazing that someone can become so fat in such a short period of time.

When we arrived in Paris, we all we dreadfully hungry, and the first thing I wanted to do was get a pain au chocolat, or a chocolate croissant. So we found a bakery, and I got one. Little did I know that this croissant would change my taste buds’ entire outlook on life! Even though it was a mistake to eat the pain au chocolat out in the cold, it was certainly not a mistake to eat it. It was so flaky that pieces were literally breaking off and fluttering into the wind. Fluttering off like some sort of delicious butterfly! What other food can you think of that flutters?!?! And the 2 stripes of chocolate running throughout was just the right amount to create the perfect chocolate-to-pastry ratio. I was in heaven. And then I came back down when I realized my hands might need to be amputated, (last whine, I promise!...but not the last wine! HO HO! See what I did there?)

Our next stop was the Eiffel Tower! The Eiffel Tower is arguably the attraction most associated with Paris, and it is one of the most recognizable architectural marvels in the world, so we wanted to make sure we saw it properly in order to be the diligent tourists we are. When we arrived at the bottom of the Eiffel Tower, though, we found it strange that the lines were so short. When we almost reached the front of the line, we noticed a sign that said that the top was closed due to icy conditions, so you could only get up to the second floor. We decided to wait to go up another day in the hope that it would warm up a bit over the weekend and we would be able to get to the top.

After our mini-failure at the Eiffel Tower it was off to Notre Dame to kick it with Quasimodo. I was told before going to Notre Dame to not expect it to be as grand as would think it would be. And while it was not the biggest or most ornate cathedral I have ever seen, I still found it to be quite beautiful, and it definitely surpassed my previously-lowered expectations. I especially liked the outer doorway carvings, and I kind of remember them coming alive and singing in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." I should also mention, since I'm technologically-impaired, (it's a real condition!), I couldn't figure out how to turn the flash off on my camera, so I don't have any pictures from inside Notre Dame. I'm sure you can Google it if you're pining to see the inside.

Does anyone ever wonder if Quasimodo is related to Igor from Frankenstein? Maybe that whole hunchback thing is genetic.

"But you can never can run from, nor hide what you've done from the eyes, the very eyes of Notre Dame!"

Behind Notre Dame. Baby got back.

Once we left Notre Dame, things began to go downhill. We were supposed to be back at the hotel by 3 to get our door keys and move our stuff into our rooms. We soon realized that wasn't going to happen. Essentially, we got ridiculously lost to the point of not even knowing what direction to walk. That meant I had to stop in random stores and use my horribly mangled French to attempt to scrape away some idea of where we could possibly head. We all were so tired that after stopping at a hotel to ask directions I completely forgot how to say, "Do you speak English?" in French. It also didn't help that we kept seeing this giant building that we thought we could use as a compass, but, in actuality, it just stood leering over us, mocking our failure. We termed it the Eye of Sauron, but unlike The Lord of the Rings, it was not easy to figure out what direction to walk in.  If you can picture the movie double it's already lengthy time and just have Sam and Frodo walking in circles around the Eye for most of it that would be eerily similar to our afternoon. Miraculously, like the North Star leading the 3 Kings to The King, or the Golden Arches leading the chubbies to the McNuggets, the Eiffel Tower finally appeared on the horizon to bring us back to our hotel. We were about an hour and a half late and we were all extremely beat.

Following our debacle, we were all a little apprehensive to leave the hotel since the group was leaving for the Louvre at 6. I decided to branch out a little because my stomach was threatening to beat up my right kidney if I didn't feed it. Fortuitously, there was a bakery almost right beside our hotel. Now, as many of you know, one of my qualities, (and I feel it to be a very endearing quality), is how gosh-darn awkward I am. Sometimes it is just more prominent than other times. In that bakery, I was at my peak.

I made sure to awkwardly shuffle my way in. Since the bakery was quite small, I was in the perfect awkward location just so I could be in line, but also be in a spot that made the automatic door awkwardly stay open, letting in the icy air. When I was the next person to be served I panicked because I wasn't sure what I wanted and I blanked on my French, so I awkwardly took myself out of line to my initial location as the door keeper-opener. Finding this location entirely too awkward, I left the store only to walk about 30 paces down the street, turn around, and awkwardly enter the store and resume my place in front of the open door. After much debating with what must have been an awkward terror-stricken look on my face, I concluded on an eclair for myself and a sandwich for my roommate. After purchasing them, I attempted to awkwardly put away my money, not squish the goods, and walk out all at the same time. That was when a delectable scent hit my smell receptors. As I turned around, as if in slow motion, they appeared. An entire glorious tray of pain au chocolats materialized from the oven. As I stood awkwardly hesitating on the balls of my feet, once again in my awkward door-open position, unsure of what reflex, ("Buy or Flight"), would win out. It appears that my "Buy" response did since I found my feet carrying me back to the line. The cashier chuckled as I awkwardly stumbled through my french phrases, holding up the line, but I was the ultimate victor as I emerged triumphant with a pain au chocolat clutched in my hand. "Awkward" word count: 11.

All of the stars must have aligned when I purchased that chocolatey pastry delight. How else could I have gotten so lucky as to be present in that bakery right at the unveiling of those heavenly pastries from the oven? Clearly, it was fate. My first bite was divine. The outside was perfectly flaky, but the inside was a completely different story from the norm. The gooey center had collapsed in upon itself due to the heat to create a mixture of warm dough and melted chocolate I almost cried it was so good. The people in the hotel probably thought I was a hot mess as I was walking slower than an escargot (Get it?!? Snail!?!) trying to savor my pain au chocolat with tears in my eyes. When I got back to my room, I quickly alerted Lauren and Rachel to the fact that the bakery right outside our window was selling fresh, warm pain au chocolats. Then, I essentially paid off my friends to go get me 2 more chocolate croissants in an effort to get more gooey-flaky deliciousness, as well as spare me from the socially awkward situation of returning to the location that harbored so much embarrassment. “Awkward” word count: 12. By the time they returned, I was completely done both the éclair and croissant, and ready to feast on 1 more before the Louvre. My plan was to save the last one for when I got back that night. The knowledge that I would return to the hotel and find a pain au chocolat waiting for me was a great feeling.

Off to the Louvre we went through the splendor that is Paris in the nighttime. Seeing everything lit up was a real treat. Upon reaching the Louvre, my friends were quite hungry since the last thing they ate were their morning croissants, so they wanted to stop in the cafeteria. Due to the late hour the cafeteria was closed, so we determined we would go through the museum and then go get a late-night dinner somewhere. We had to narrow down what we wanted to see in the Louvre because it has such a huge collection. Just to demonstrate its size to you, I read a fact that said if you spent 4 seconds at every piece in the museum, it would take you 3 months walking 24 hours a day to see everything. That is astonishing to me!

I'm pretty sure it's impossible to get the whole thing in a picture. That must make the Louvre feel fat.

Not many of my nighttime pictures turned out great, so this is the only one you get. Complaints can be filed with my secretary.

Anyway, I saw the Mona Lisa, I saw Liberty Leading the People, I saw the Venus de Milo, but the one I got most excited for was the Code of Hammurabi. It was like going to Disney World, but instead of going on rides, meeting characters, and generally doing stuff, it was staring at a rock behind a glass box. Pieces like this one were instrumental in getting me interested in archaeology and anthropology. It is beautifully preserved and I couldn't get over how clear the writing was on the rock. I expected there to be a large amount of deterioration due to its age, but the condition it was in was quite remarkable. I know there are certain things that everyone says are necessary to see when visiting the Louvre, but if you find yourself at the museum one day, please try to at least quickly peruse some of the artifacts from places like Mesopotamia, Egypt, and India. Also, I recommend having a mini dance party in the Medieval Louvre, especially if the museum is going to close soon and there is no one around. Good times, I know from experience.

She knows everyone loves her. Like Kate Middleton.

Yeah! That's right! You lead those people, Liberty! You go girl!

Cupid and Psyche: In honor of the recently passed Martin Luther King, Jr. day, obviously.

You think you would be a lot more upset if you didn't have arms. Venus must be coping well.

She dropped it...Butterfingers.

I think on the top row they are doing the Macarena.

The Code of Hammurabi in all its glory.

This text was all over the entire piece.

I fistpump. It's what I do.
Photo courtesy of Cayla.

By the time we got back to the hotel I thought everyone was about to go all Hannibal Lecter on each other if only they could get some chianti and fava beans. A bunch of my friends decided to go to a small sandwich shop down the street that would get them to their food goal quickly, but my friend Monica and I wanted something distinctly French, so we opted for a sit-down meal at a corner bistro. At this point it was around 9:30, but I was surprised at how many people were still there chowing down. Once we sat down, we made the decision that we were going to do this meal right, and go big. We both ordered a glass of wine, because we are classy broads. For a meal, Monica ordered a salad and FRENCH onion soup, whereas I ordered a rack of lamb with bearnaise sauce that came with a salad and green beans, and we shared a basket of bread (DON'T JUDGE ME!). The waiter also offered me FRENCH fries with my meal, or as we call them in America, Freedom fries, but I felt it may be a little childish after ordering a rack of lamb, so instead I think he gave me a double order of green beans. I didn't even have to worry about Monica attempting to eat my lamb, (she's vegan at home, but a vegetarian abroad), which saved me from a lot of anxiety. It was all so good! The lamb was cooked perfectly for me, and I generally don't even like green beans, but I devoured all of these. I smothered bearnaise on everything possible. Basically, Monica and I left a crater of dirty, empty plates in our wake at around 11:30.

She wasn't really that happy, she was just delirious from hunger.

It's just so beautiful. I'm misting up a little.

Gah! I know this must be horrible for you to read through since it is so long, and most likely boring as well. Herego, I have inserted this break to give you some time to get up and stretch your legs, perhaps get a coffee or go for a quick run. I personally don't know what running is, but I looked it up in the dictionary, and it seems like a legitimate pursuit to partake in for a short while. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is to take some time for yourself. Go on, I'll wait here for you.............


Welcome back! Did you have a nice run? You didn't go for a run? I'm sorry if you feel bad about yourself because you didn't complete any sort of exercise in the allotted break time. I bet you'll think carefully about what to do during the next break. 


The following day we all got up early to get see the maximum amount of places. Our first stop was Moulin Rouge to sing the entire movie soundtrack to the people cleaning up from the night before. If it wasn't associated with the film, though, it probably wouldn't have been that exciting, and I doubt I would have gotten up at 6:30 in the morning to go check out a random strip club. The area down around Moulin Rouge is a little odd, and I can't say that I recommend bringing children around there since most of the places are of a risque/NC-17 nature, if you catch my drift. If you don't catch my drift, I'll spell it out for you: There is literally a building called the "Sexodrome."

Behind us cleaners were clearing up bottles/puke/drunken men off the ground from the night before. Magical.
Photo courtesy of Molly.

Our next stop of the day was Sacre-Coeur Basilica. I was not aware before going there that it would take some physical effort and exertion. In this case, my foe was the stairs. I was able to successfully make it up to the top, but not without many envious glances at the tram that rides up next to the stairs. The view and the Basilica were definitely worth the shortness of breath and minimal pit stains. You could see over a ton of Paris, and as I was looking, I kept thinking about how not that much has changed on the skyline during that time. It was a little like being transported back in time with the chimneys puffing away and the Eiffel Tower in the distance. As for Sacre-Coeur, the outside almost seemed mosque-like to me, and it was just as beautiful inside as it was outside.

I'm currently behind a piece of legislation that would turn these stairs into escalators.

Bringing up the back: Out-of-shape Alicia.
Photo courtesy of Cayla.

On my way to becoming a hipster.
Photo courtesy of Monica.

The chimney sweeps were dancing on an adjacent roof with Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke.

The French version of Rocky would be filmed here I'm sure.

I won't dwell too long on the flea market we went to after Sacre-Coeur, but, to sum it up, let's just say it was sketchy as hell. We escaped out of there quickly, even though we almost had one casualty, and made a second attempt at the Eiffel Tower. Since this day was a bit warmer, the top was open, so it was up into the atmosphere (second Mary Poppins reference. boom.) We decided to walk up as far as we could to save some money. I wasn't really focused on the burning in my thighs because I was more intent on high how up we were going. I thought we got a good view from Sacre-Coeur, but the views were magnificent from the Eiffel Tower. You were able to see everything, including the Eye of Sauron. I still cannot fathom why the city of Paris would allow people to build that and put a blemish on their lovely skyview.

Alright! Not in the back this time! I must be getting fitter.
Photo courtesy of Molly.

THERE IT IS! THE EYE OF SAURON! THAT %$#@!*&^ $&%!!!!!!!!

The prongs on my hat keep the pigeons away.

After Eiffeling it up, (now a verb), we had more trouble trying to meet up with some of our friends. This time being lost wasn't so bad, but we ended up meeting up much later than originally planned for. And that, kids, is why having a plan sucks. Much better to just do stuff on the fly. Like my future!


For some reason, I had not gotten a crepe until the second day of our trip. It was a rather spontaneous thing when I finally did get one. My friends went into this bakery in the Latin Quarter to get baguettes with ham baked into them, and on the corner of the street there was a place for crepes and other goodies, like sugared waffles. Before I knew what I was doing, I just strolled up and ordered one. I think my subconscious must have thought this when ordering: "I'll get a Nutella crepe because I don't want to get overly full for dinner and Nutella is one of the greatest things in the world." The Nutella didn't let me down in this crepe either. I think the pictures accurately describe the range of emotions I felt upon eating this delightful treat.

Contentment.

Ecstasy.

Pure, unadulterated joy.

After the crepe, I was already feeling high (on life, not drugs! Crack is whack! Thanks Officer Dan!), so I decided to slip into a pleasant-looking scarf shop nearby. It was called Diwali, and I'm pretty sure it was in the Latin Quarter. I don't want to be too certain about the location, because at the rate I got lost in Paris it's better not to say anything definitively. The shop had some stunning scarves from all around the world coming in many different patterns and materials. They ranged in price from quite cheap (yay!) to uber expensive (avoid at all costs). I must have been looking particularly non-touristy that day, because shortly upon entering the woman working at the store came up to me and started talking in French. The befuddled look on my face must have given me away, (curse you emotions!), because she promptly asked, "English?" She was a really sweet lady. It always makes my day when you meet someone who goes out of their way to be super friendly to you. Sure, it's easy to think, this lady was probably just a really good salesperson, but she seemed honestly interested in having a conversation with me and telling me about the shop. Also, based on the scarves I was looking at she taught me a new way to tie it to highlight the two differently colored sides. If anyone is interested I am now giving lessons for a small fee. I ended up getting the scarf she showed me how to tie, so now I am better equipped to be fancy and pretentious with my spiffy Parisian scarf.


My friends who I have known since elementary school, Ali and Amanda, are studying in Paris for the entire year, so I was lucky enough to meet up with them on our short stay. Things become instantaneously better when you are with people who speak the language of the country and are able to successfully navigate the city without getting lost for hours on end. Plus, it is always wonderful to see old friends, especially friends who are as awesome-possum as those two. We ended up going out to dinner, and I was so stoked because on the menu they had croque-monsieurs, which is one of the first words you learn in French class, and the most commonly defaulted word students go to when they can't think of another word in French. I ended up ordering a croque-madame, which is essentially the same thing, primarily because of the extra calories the fried egg that they put on top would provide me. It was super delicious, and the next time I am in France I'll hunt them down in a style similar to Boba Fett.

I don't even know who this is, she just came up and asked for a picture with me. Sometimes it's tough being a celebrity.
Photo courtesy of Molly.

Once we were all thoroughly full we hopped on the metro to go out. I don't mean to bring this up to tell you about the night, (although it did include a hilarious incident of one of Ali's friends screaming "MACAULAY CULKIN!!!" multiple times at a music video playing on a TV), but to say that a piece of music came on while I was there that changed my life. If you are any sort of decent Disney fan, you should listen to this ode to our childhood. Turn the volume and the bass way up, and be prepared to dance it up, because I doubt you will be able to sing along. Or at least bob your head along, funsucker.

I couldn't even begin to imitate the way people were dancing to this.

The day that we were leaving, Paris was positively magic. We woke up to a thick coating of snow, and it was as if we were all transformed into little kids again. Once we got outside, we were all beaming and skipping along, so happy to get to experience Paris in the snow. It was also wonderful because it was as if we had all of Paris to ourselves. There was essentially no one outdoors, not even at the Eiffel Tower. We went on a long walk to take advantage of the perfection of the situation. I'm sure that many tourists do not get to experience something like we did that day. In my mind, it was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. Unfortunately, we had to head back at some point, but luckily, we stumbled upon a non-sketchy market on the way back. This market was primarily food with some crafts. I was able to get a mini wheel of cheese to augment a baguette I bought earlier, which I promptly devoured upon reaching the hotel. It was undoubtedly one of my favorite days studying abroad so far.

Thank goodness I didn't have to shovel at all.

Walking in a winter wonderland...especially since I didn't get to on Christmas. Pull it together Pennsylvania weather!

Cheesy Paris picture. I must have been feeling cheesy since I ate a whole wheel of it.

Paris to ourselves.

The gang, minus Molly who had to take the picture. Somebody has to do it.
Photo courtesy of Molly.

"What? You pooped in the refrigerator? And you ate the whole...wheel of cheese? How'd you do that? Heck, I'm not even mad, that's amazing."