MunItaParTrieParPar

If I were using a cell phone here, I bet I would have service in MunItaParTrieParPar. That's because since my last post about a month and a half ago, I've been on roughly a thousand trains to Munich, all over Italy, Paris, Trier, Paris, and tomorrow, Paris! I may have found a favorite city.

So right now I'm thinking that in order to do all these places justice, they each need their own posts. Especially Italy. This post will serve as the explanation for all of my future (or is it past?) anachronistic blog posts. And since I am about to go take a nap, I will give you a brief summary of my last months in case you were going to die in the next ten hours during which I plan on documenting my life (knock knock).

So I went to Munich on a whim with Cyborg aka Andrew Willenborg. It was pretty awesome. We toured the city, got stranded in K-Town, and then rode two hours in a car with a strange man who offered us a ride.

Then we had spring break! I went to Italy with James Bond aka Ben Blount. I feel the need to explain this new nickname. Ben wanted to get his hair cut. Ben doesn't speak French. So he found a picture of James Bond and showed the hairdresser, motioning that he would like his hair cut the same way. His hair has a striking resemblance to Daniel Craig.

Anyway, Italy. We had 10 days to go galavanting around. The first three we spent in Venice, then two each in Florence, Rome, and Cinque Terre. No joke, every place we went to was better than the last. I don't have any cliff hangers about creepy men, cars, or being stranded, but I can tell you that i thought we might be mugged when--

The next weekend (or two?) I took off. The weekend after that I took off to Paris with Adit and Eric Stribling to meet my friend Sarah Naples! We did all the Parisian stuff, like Le Tour Eiffel, l'Arc de Triomphe, and le Louvre. Our last morning we capped off a great weekend by eating a perfectly French breakfast at the Indiana Cafe. Not really. They had sold out of breakfast. Instead we ate chocolate bread from the local market. I guess part of trying to be French on a Sunday is just not doing anything. In that respect, we were like uber French. Adit and I rode the metro for one and a half hours waiting for our train back to Metz.

Then Trier! Home of Karl Marx. The Germans don't even like him, but if it will bring in tourists, they're game. I went on this Saturday day trip with James Bond and Rafi. Rafi does not sing children's songs about giraffes named Joshua or baby whales. That is Raffi. This is Rafael. He got a mohawk the day before our trip, and he has an eyebrow ring. He fit in perfectly in Germany. And they claim they're not fascists...

Then Sunday I went to Paris again to see my friend Eric from good ol' CSN. (btw we're gonna sail to Austrailia one day with Colin). We walked around and he showed us his favorite parks and waffel stand! Jason from GTL also met up with us along the way. We watched the PSG Marseille game in a pub then Jason and I said our goodbyes at 11:30pm. We wandered to the train station, then ate in Quick for two hours till it closed, then rode the bus around for two and a half more hours, then ate/slept in a sketch city diner till six when we went to go get our train back home at 6:30. It was an eventful night. We saw a guy get arrested for being so drunk that he fake-punched a cop as a joke. They didn't laugh. This will serve as a reminder for me to talk about the extreme cops in Paris. They don't eat donuts. They carry assault rifles. They are frightening.

This weekend I'm heading back to Paris once again bright and early at 7:25 to go watch some Premier League football with Eric again. This time it's Everton vs. Portsmouth, and Tottenham vs. Chelsea. I'm sure you were wondering. I head back to Metz at 12:00pm Sunday, and maaaayyyyybe I'll blog more when I get back. This is highly unlikely. What is more likely is that I will finish sorting through my pictures of Paris and Trier and post those on picasaweb. I'm pretty much just gonna tell you the stories of the pictures on my picasaweb in my posts anyway. Because, quite frankly, the details escape me otherwise. Never fear! I have an active shutter finger.

I think I'm done. It is possible that I completely forgot about a few weekend trips in there somewhere, but I'll figure it out soon enough and let you know. Oh, speaking of things you should know, I splurged 1.50 euros on a new spatula that actually works. A noble investment to be sure.