Bohemian Pubs and American Politics

Last night in Budapest, my friend and I decided to try our chances at a little place called Szimpla Kert. Considered something called a “ruined pub”, Szimpla is part of a network of bars and clubs that specialize in Budapest’s bohemian culture. These establishments are located in abandoned buildings and courtyards throughout the city. They are decorated with a mixture of eccentric art and graffiti.For those of you familiar with Boulder, Colorado, this place would have fit in perfectly on Pearl Street. They serve a large variety of drinks and everyone over the age of 18 is welcome. Tip: It might be a good idea to bring an official form of identification if you plan to visit. Unlike many other establishments in Europe, they check ID for anyone that looks like they might be under 18.

Perhaps my favorite parts of the bars are the variety of people that they draw in and how relaxed everyone seems to be. People from all the world gather, hoping to mingle with interesting people. Compared with other Bars and Clubs that I have been to in Europe, people who come to Szimpla simply want to relax and take a moment to enjoy a chill night out. At the beginning of the night my friend and I were pleased to walk in and hear one of our favorite songs “All Night” playing. Szimpla mostly plays a mix of electro-swing. For anyone unfamiliar with this genre, check out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_C7UgR_sIW0  by Parov Stelar. Although a little quirky, the lyrics and beat are sure to stick with you.

Before we knew it, we had met two students from the United Kingdom and a pair or friends from Canada taking a gap year. Talking to people in environments like this is low key one of my favorite things. Everyone is in a similar situation and everyone clearly has a passion for travel. This combination has always proven itself to make for great conversation. To hear everyone’s backstory and plans for the future of their journey is inspirational. We talked with the two guys from Canada for about an hour. We traded our best travel stories and shred tips about cities. But things really got interesting when they decided to bring up the upcoming American election. To hear an outsider’s perspective on the “circus” that people call the American Election system was humorous. For a while we debated on Hillary’s strengths while my Canadian friend referred to her as the “Attractive Boss Bitch” (he might have been a little intoxicated… to be fair) I found it relieving that everyone else in the world is horrified that we would let Donald Trump get this far in the election and they pass on their sympathies if he wins. One guy even told me that he hopes to visit the states before Donald Trump “takes over” and ruins the country.

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Szimpla during daylight hours. They serve cocktails all day, but they don’t get busy until 11 pm.

 

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Labyrinth of the Vampire Cult and newly founded anxiety

So let me rewind. Our first day in Budapest, we were wandering around the outskirts of Buda Castle and just outside the Hospital Museum when we came across something peculiar. We spotted a dimly lit underground ally and decided to venture into it when the curiosity grew and we decided it was too late to turn back. It had an eerie feel to it. The dim yellow lights cast huge shadows in front of us. Water dripped from the ceilings in a way that send a shiver down your spine. Confused, we continued on looking for an exit or an end to the tunnel. Instead, we came across a ticket booth and a stairway that lead up to a side street on castle hill. There, a plaque quickly explained that the “tunnel” we were just in was actually a labyrinth where the leader of a vampire colt ( supposedly Dracula himself)  was held prisoner until his death. Honestly, I figured this was a tourist trap. But after some research, my friend and I found that the tunnels were actually legitimate and expanded underneath the entire castle. We also found that they give tours of the labyrinth. My hesitation of the tour was overruled by the argument that”no one would believe us” unless we actually took the tour for factual support.

The next day, after our morning run to Krystali Cukraszda (a delicious little bakery and espresso bar), we made our way back up to the castle and once again ascended into the darkness of the labyrinth. I was hopelessly unprepared for what was about to follow. Supposedly a self guided tour, the passage started with a brief explanation and exaggeration of the labyrinth’s history. Wax figures set the scene for a murder most foul, ect…

It wasn’t until maybe a 1/4 mile into the caves that things turned unexpected. Suddenly the wax figures stopped and was replaced with a sign explaining the complexity of the tunnels and the purposes they used to served. The sign also explained a human phenomenon about how paranoia, the dark and thick fog has the potential to mess with our heads.

I instantly felt my anxiety levels rise as I came to the realization that the only way out of the labyrinth lied within the darkness. To gain understanding about the labyrinth, you ad to experience it without outside assistance. I have a huge fear of caves and getting trapped in unescapable places. Before we knew it, we were launched into complete darkness. I couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that I had faced with such circumstances. The darkness was solid, it fell like a curtain. Darkness is usually different. Even at night, there is moonshine, there are streetlights, or there are the little blue and red glowing lights that come from smoke detectors or a charging cellphone. But it is almost impossible to achieve absolute darkness like this. True darkness like this crushes light. Even when we tried to use cellphones, they had little effect. Miles underground, without the technology of modern society, we were suddenly transported back to the literal DARK ages. The only things that clued me into my location were echoes of water droplets and the smell of decay that came from the cave. Besides that, we were blind. It might not have been as bad if we were somewhere else, but thinking about how were were sitting in a historically proven medieval torture chamber (regardless if the vampire myth was true or not) probably pushed me over the edge. I see no shame in admitting I was terrified.

My best friend lead the way while we slowly worked our way out. If it hadn’t been for her, I probably would have lost ability to move and just died there from an anxiety attack. I still get dizzy and squeamish thinking about it.

The rest of the labyrinth turned out to be okay. Instead of darkness, it was replaced with a tick fog that they highlighted with bright with lights. Every so often you could see artifacts that they recovered form the old uses of the labyrinth. Bits of columns sat in corners while iron gates of ancient jail cells were covered in rust.

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We take a selfie with the last bit of light before we enter the labyrinth. 

Radioactive Art

Today my friend and I wandered into the Budapest Museum of Applied Arts, unsure what to expect. From the outside, the museum actually looked closed. Banners draped across construction boardwalks made us question if we could even go inside. But after some investigation we finally found the front doors. From the few exhibits that we saw, my favorite was the “Explore Color” portion. There were four different rooms that divided art by blues, reds, greens,  and browns. Each room displayed different types of dishes, cloths, paintings, furniture, and other random items. One particular feature that caught my eye was an ultraviolet light that caused these jars and glasses to glow a bright, an almost bioluminescent green. Curious about it, we looked on the nearby plaque and found a description. Turns out that the secret ingredient that made the pieces glow was legitimate Uranium. As in, these pieces of art were actually radioactive. The artist supposedly designed them to make a statement about nuclear warfare and other radioactive social problems. Although the art curator seemed to feel safe being around these, I didn’t.

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The Downpour

Today in Budapest was significant  because of the amount of rain that fell. Being from Colorado, my friend and I drastically underestimated the rain in Budapest.

We woke up around 9 that morning and headed across the river to the “Buda” side of Budapest. From there we hiked to the fisherman’s bastion and castle hill. Coming from an elevation of 9,000 feet actually makes life much easier. As we passed other tourists that seemed to be breathing heavily from the hike, we were rolling in the extra oxygen. We felt like super-humans. From the top of the funicular (a little train that takes you up to the top of the hill) the view seems surreal. You can see the entirety of the city on a clear day. After we soaked in the view properly, we headed on to go explore the contents within the castle walls.  Besides pretty buildings and a few nicely kept gardens, there wasn’t too much to see until we finally found a museum, which had been suggested to me by a friend who recently studied abroad here.

Called the “Hospital Museum” it was actually a 5-mile long nuclear-proof bunker the had been transformed throughout that ages by different political parties and governments within Budapest. During its time it served as a hospital for both Soviet troops, nationalists, and German solders as a red cross certified safe place for everyone. Because of its intentional certification, the place was respected and spared by raids. During the later part of ww2 through the end of the cold war, it served as a nuclear-safe bunker.  On the tour, we had the chance to see the old generators, water storage supply units, air circulation systems for the tunnel, and giant diesel fuel tanks that could run everything in case of power loss. Fun Fact: We learned on the tour that the Hungarian word for “radiation” is actually “sugar.” My mind immediately went to “sugar cookies” and I wondered about the confusion and worry this might bring to Hungarian tourists in America.

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This is the entrance to the Hospital Museum / Nuclear Bunker

By the end of the day we ended up outside the Hungarian Parliament. This giant building is actually a little intimidating. Despite the armed guards every couple feet, its gothic pillars and tours accurately represent its prestige. When we sat down to enjoy the view, it had started to sprinkle rain. But by the time my friend and I had made it back to our hotel, we were drenched. My jeans were soaked and I could feel water squish between my toes as I walked. My hair had begun to drip onto my face. It seemed everyone was carrying around umbrellas except for us.  When we made it into the hotel, the front desk assistant gave us a look that might have been a mix of sympathy and disgust at the mud we just tracked into his clean lobby.

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Me, enjoying a calm  drizzle before the downpour.

no such thing as coincidences

I don’t believe in coincidences. Given that fact, this weekend has been very confusing for me. Recently I have asked for a tiny sign from the universe to assist me with my college search. Usually my empty requests to the universe remain unanswered, but not this weekend.

I know this sounds trivial and silly, but choosing the right school has been a real struggle for me.  Nearly everyone I know has found their dream school and are fully committed.  Then there is me…. Unfortunately, I have found two dream schools. Both schools are complete opposites and both offer very enticing opportunities.

Let’s back up to Friday night. I don’t claim to be the most organized person, especially when it comes to my wardrobe. But I still know what cloths I own. I was getting ready for a chill night with friends and was looking for a comfortable shirt to put on. While rummaging through my drawer I pulled out an oversize  long sleeve CU Boulder tee-shirt. I still have no idea where this came from. I had never seen this shirt before in my life. Still, it happened to be exactly what I needed. It also happened to be my size.  This is literally the most comfortable shirt  I have ever owned. After confronting my parents, they both denied placing it in my drawer. No one else has been in my house within my knowledge. It is pretty obvious that the Admissions office at CU did not sneak into my house and leave random clothing as a bribe, but I am still curious how it got there.I thought I had found my sign from the universe….until breakfast Sunday.

My parents and I went to meet some family friends at a quaint little restaurant near downtown Denver. Jokingly in the parking lot, my dad pointed out a licence plate from my other dream school, Regis University. I thought nothing of it until walking into the restaurant and being seated directly at the table next to none other but Regis’s President Father Fitzgibbons. He proceeded to recognize me immediately as an admitted/ prospective student.

We began to talk and he and his colleagues asked me about how I felt about submitting my acceptance to the school.  When I finally admitted that I hadn’t decided yet, they were quick to offer answers to any questions or concerns I may have had about the school or community. I stood there awkwardly and had to explain that I didn’t have any specific questions to ask. They were so friendly and made me feel a little guilty for not yet accepting their generous invitation to become a part of the Regis University student body.

To be entirely honest I am not sure what is keeping me from making a final decision and it’s driving me crazy.

adventures in the red light district

There are several words and phases to describe what I am feeling. It is something which is experienced around the world and has been since the beginning of humanity. For a few months now it has been creeping up in the back of my mind. It is something which slowly overtakes your consciousnesses and becomes your sole ambition in life. Although some may call it a disease, I prefer to consider it a blessing.

I have officially caught the travel bug. Ever since my early years of childhood when I first went to Mexico with my family, the feeling of discovery and exhilaration when exploring foreign places has become a central part of my personality. Barely a few months go by between trips before I start to become grumpy and unsettled. I could go on for years about my experiences across Europe and various parts of South America. But, I will save most of the details  for later posts.

One thing I will mention though is a thought which occurred to me while reading the Novel “The Goldfinch.” A few years back, my cousins and I found ourselves in a very precarious situation. After spending New Years Eve in Paris, we attempted to book a flight back to the US. Unfortunately all the seats were sold out and our chances were slim for about another week. We decided to take a train to Frankfurt, Germany.  Little did we know that Frankfurt happens to be one of the most dangerous cities in Europe. I’m not kidding when I say this city makes ghetto parts of New York look like Disneyland.

As we walked down the street, I recall hearing gunshots and seeing drug deals take place. In the windows red hearts glowed in the chilly late night air. (I later learned that the red hearts symbolized certified brothel) Turns out that prostitution is legal in parts of Germany…. We were literally in the heart of the red light district with no hotel reservations an no plan. To make things worse, I had developed a fever and had started to throw up. If it was not for the heart doctor from California we met on the train, I don’t now where we would have ended up. He caught us as we were lost and wandering down the street and offered to help us. He happened to have family in the city and was able to get us a safe place to sleep for the night.

I know it sounds funny, but I wouldn’t change a thing about my experience in Germany if given the chance. Because of a few full flights, I was able gain a new perspective on travel.  Because of a few full flights, I was able to experience a whole new country.

In “The Goldfinch” the main character describes the complexity of European train stations and the policies of international travel. He describes the customs and requirements of passports, even on a train.This part of the book would likely have been nothing more then a passing transition if I had not been able to relate to it.  After an international trip, there are so many more things you can relate to and so many more stories you have to tell. It broadens your perspective and raises many questions about the unknown. Although travel can be uncomfortable (as proven above) the overall experience is totally worth it. Even thinking about it makes me giddy to consider my next big adventure. Can we all take a second to consider the beauty of wanderlust?

the pun is greater then the pain

This morning, the universe decided I was going to make friends with a ditch and two strangers. Because I live in the mountains, snowy roads are not usually not an issue for me. I am pretty comfortable driving in icy conditions. Still, shit happens. While I was on my way down to the highway this morning, some idiot came barreling up the road taking up nearly all two lanes.  This forced me to swerve out of the way and ultimately make me end  up in  a ditch. Unfortunately, the snowplow had piled up the equivalent of three feet of snow into the ditch.  This made it impossible for me to free myself from the snowbank.

I sat there for a few seconds debating on the best possible course of action. Despite putting sand under my wheels for traction and switching into 4 wheel drive, I was still a sitting duck. I was pretty annoyed at myself for being stuck in this situation. Although it was not my fault, the feeling of helplessness irritated me.

Despite the frustration, I came to realize being in this situation restored faith in humanity. It felt good to know that almost everyone who passed me on their way down the mountain stopped and asked if they could assist me and made sure I was okay. Some people offered to wait with me while help came, others offered me a ride back to my house. Eventually one of my neighbors drove by and offered to pull me out with his massive truck and toe ropes.  I graciously accepted and it did not take much time to get my own little truck free with the proper equipment.  He and his wife were some of the most relaxed people I have ever met. This was probably a very good thing given my state of annoyed frustration.

After my little blue truck was free, I decided to give up on the day and simply head back home. The young couple teased me and gave me a hard time about skipping school since they had “just freed me so I could continue my important education,” before they departed.

The ironic part about all of this is the fact it is senior ditch day at my high school. This is the day where my entire graduating class decides to take a self proclaimed day off, despite the dismay of administration. If I had simply stayed home and had a relaxing morning, rather then trying to accomplish things, this would ever of happened. Between the time I had attempted to get myself out of the sticky situation and the time when help finally arrived, I had a very dorky and humorous realization.  I was sitting in a DITCH, on senior DITCH DAY. The pun, no matter how stupid or lame, had just made my entire day. I was literally sitting there in my truck unable to stop laughing. I am really glad no one drove up at that moment because they probably would have debated calling an ambulance just in case of head trauma.

The night I saw (almost) everyone

Today, I have learned two very important things.

1) You can not win a fight against the universe. You must adapt plans no matter what they may be to include this so- called “plot twist” in your day.

2) Negative people absolutely useless and simply annoying.

Waking up this morning was a struggle. Stuck somewhere between dream land and reality I faintly noticed the sound of my alarm clock. From the moment I fully awoke there was a feeling in my gut that today would be an strange one.

At school, people seemed miserable. There was something in the air which I could not explain. Every time I turned around, someone was bitching about something new or attempting to drag me into their drama. Possibly the best decision I made all day was tuning out the world and deciding to listen to chill dub step. The moment I the nagging and whining were blocked from my ears, my mood seemed to boost by a thousand percent. Little things like the sunshine pouring though the window warming my skin and the taste of my strawberry smoothie became my main focus. All the people in the room seemed so unimportant and superfluous compared to the beautiful little details in front of me. A friend of mine always says “enjoy the little things.” Perhaps I did not truly verify the truth of his advice until today. If you can manage to rid your life of negativity, even for a little while, awesome results will ensue.

Earlier on this evening, I agreed to meet up with a friend for dinner. I truly feel pity for all those people out there with good friends of the opposite gender. No matter where you go, it never fails for someone to falsely identify you as a couple. Tonight, this person happened to be my boss. But after she asked us if we were a couple we say her two more times before the night was over. Did someone say awkward?

Living in a small town, no matter where you go, you are likely to see someone you know….But, tonight was simply over the top. When we decided to skip dinner since we both weren’t very hungry, we decided to stop to grab a coffee instead. Biggest mistake of the night. There, we not only ran into my boss, but two of our mutual friends as well. At the gas station later, we ran into one of my ex-boyfriends who is still insistent we should be together. When we finally decided to hang out in a nearby empty parking lot to drink our coffee, five minuets later two acquaintances pulled up and parked next to us. Although they did not say anything, I’m sure I’ll be getting a hard time from them tomorrow.

Usually we solve this problem by completing the group that I have mentioned in posts past, but the third member of the party is off studying at her universality. Eventually we decided just to give up on our serious talk of travel plans we were originally going to arrange due to sheer number of interruptions,  and decided to make a game of how many people we could run into. Unfortunately we did not accomplish our original purpose, but we had a fun time and now a funny story to share and we likewise adapted out plans.

college, culture, and an overall crazy weekend

To say the very least, this weekend has been odd one. Overall, I have gotten a total of six hours of sleep this entire weekend.

Starting out Thursday night, I set off to go explore a potential college.  I wasn’t sure what to exactly expect at an overnight campus visit. When I finally arrived, I parked and walked into place where prospective students were meeting  to find a group of five of the most awkward looking individuals I’ve ever seen. Luckily the night progressed to take some very entertaining and unexpected turns.

To be entirely honest, I expected more of a structured program carefully monitored by “adults.” Yet, by the end of the night I was hanging with wasted college students doing shots while we all played cards Against Humanity.

Immediately after being given a short presentation about “behavior” by an admissions councilor, we were stuck on a tour bus with a few current students as a guide and whisked off for an evening out in downtown Denver. We ate dinner at a place called bd’s where you pile raw food onto a plate, right before handing it over to a man at a giant round grill who tosses it up and cooks it with two metal poles slightly resembling swards. We then walked to get ice cream at a popular local hangout. One thing that stuck me about an evening at a college campus was the 24/7 access to food. That stuff was literally everywhere. After dinner and ice cream, we went back to find they had set out more for free food for students on the campus from food trucks as part of a “healthy habits” type campaign. Around two am, one of the students I was hanging with ended up doing a Voodoo Doughnut run for everyone. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Voodoo Doughnuts, they are pretty much the most delicious things  on the planet and therefor a famous Denver favorite for locals. I completely understand why “the freshman 15” exists now.

As the night went on, I met more people then I could possibly remember. It was odd to end up being so comfortable with people I have never even met. The atmosphere was so awesome, it seemed that (unlike high school) people did not care about cliques or pre-set social groups. If you were open to having a good time, they would include anyone. I chose to stay sober for a couple reasons, including that I did not actually know anyone around me and therefore did not trust everyone. Still, no one seemed to care and the easy going atmosphere was contagious.

My room mate and I ended up heading to bed around three am. Outside the window and in the hallway I could hear the drunk students returning from parties. But right as I was about to fall asleep, one of my roommate’s friends started knocking on her  door singing “Do you wanna build a snow man?” as loud as his lungs would allow. Beside the fact it nearly gave me a heart attack, when the door came crashing open from his weight, it was still hilarious. It turns out that her door did not always close properly.

After breakfast and a quick sample lecture from a college professor, the visit wrapped its self up. Driving back home, I realized that I only had two hours to shower and get ready before another awesome night out in Downtown Denver. There is something amazing about that city, so bright, electric, and modern.

I was meeting up with two of my closest friends and we had tickets to the Colorado Symphony Orchestra’s performance of Danny Elfman’s famous music scores in Tim Burton’s films. It was actually one of my friend’s homework assignment to go see the performance because her college professor was a member of the orchestra, and she invited us to join her.

As we walked into the theater, my friend said something which I will never ever let him live down. On display were lots of violins carefully hand painted with different scenes. All of a sudden he just randomly blurted out “look at all the mini guitars!”  It was so loud that people in a ten feet radius turned to look and give him angry glares. My friend and I were laughing so hard that we were barely able to give him a little friendly reminders that they were violins, not guitars. Once he noticed his little “blonde moment” he turned an nice shade of bright bubblegum pink. If he ever happens to read this post, he may never speak to me again. But I am willing to take that risk.

To be entirely honest, we looked damn fine that evening. Dressed like movie stars, we walked down the street laughing and having an amazing time as usual. We had no idea what an awesome treat we were in for.

That night I discovered an amazing violinist by the name of Sandy Cameron. To be entirely honest her skills rival those of the other well known artist Lindsey Stirling. As a violinist myself, I am extremely jealous of her skills as a musician.  Very few people are born with the natural ability that she has.

After the concert we drove back to my friend’s house and decided to jump in his hot tub and just hang out. The stars seemed unusually vivid and the cool breeze was relaxing. Perhaps that was my exhaustion mixed with a feeling adrenaline from the last two days, but that moment was perfect.

Today I stayed home to accomplish homework and cuddle with my puppy. Overall, I could not have asked for a better weekend.

I lik to spellz wurds

It’s  entertaining  how caught up people get on little details. Of everything there is to challenge individuals choose to fight the small battles, the ones which make little to no difference in the end. For many of my friends, their battle happens to be spelling. I like to focus on larger concepts and ideas.  I am much more productive that way. I openly challenge them to create their own blog, regularly update it with entertaining material, and use better spelling techniques. Wouldn’t it be neat to get a little competition going?

It is no secret I have issue with spelling. In fact, I literally run a magazine and am reminded of my weakness quite often. Yesterday, I was relentlessly mocked for my mistaken spelling of calm in my last blog as “clam.” But, quite possibly my biggest folly is the word minuet… wait no… minet .Hold up guys, I got this, MINUTE! There we go. In reality, it is totally on purpose…. I am just a really big fan of classical music.

It turns out that yesterday was the breaking point for errors. Gotta love my grammar Nazi. After my “clam” mistake, the memes started to roll in. I decided to share one because the irony was greater then the pain. After all, the point of this blog is to be entertaining.

I would like to remind the readers that a blog isn’t necessarily meant to be written as a formal college essay, but rather as a quickly written collection of ideas and concepts. Still, for the love (and maybe sanity) of my friends, I will attempt be become more accurate when it comes to proofreading. All this really means is that I spend a few more minuets reading over my work. Wait, minute. NOPE, SCREW IT. At this point “minuet” is simply auto-corrected into my word processor. They may as well just add my spelling to the Webster Dictionary.  Sorry. Just like those people who like to mix Skittles and M&M’s, I suppose you could just say I wanna watch the world burn.

I lost my car keys and my sanity

Life is ironic. The moment you dedicate yourself to something which has been so easy in the past, life decides to have another idea and totally redirects your fate.  I made a dedication to update this blog frequently since I often had time late at night to reflect on my thoughts. So here I am once again  attempting to overcome to chaos and provide you with  entertaining stories about my life.

Over the last couple months, I have developed a knack, no…. superpower! I now have this amazing ability to lose anything and everything in my possession.

It has been four months since I have last seen my car keys. I remember returning home from school one day to find them missing in the next morning. Baffled, I looked everywhere for them. I retraced my steps and even looked in the freaking refrigerator. Still, nothing. I was so frustrated I grabbed a spare set out of the garage before driving away. The dramatic irony of this situation was that I had placed a lanyard and multiple key chains on them to avoid this type of incident. To this day, despite my weekly effort, I still haven’t been able to track them down. At this point, I have accepted complete defeat. Keys.. one VS me… zero

I guess my searches have not been a total loss.  I’ve rediscovered some very neat stuff on the explorations through my jungle of a closet. I came across Japanese currency, a very  poorly written love letter from an elementary school crush, a box of unopened animal crackers, and an old indestructible Nokia phone.

Somehow I managed to stumble across all these ridiculous items before finding a simple set of keys. I have decided that the rule of the universe goes something like this “you will find literally everything else EXCEPT for what you’re searching for.” Unfortunately this seems that it doesn’t just apply to items, but careers and love lives too.

If I could just manage to find my keys, perhaps the universe would magically regain balance also.

Curse of the fangirl

There are a few actors who will never be unseen as characters of their most popular roles in either a TV series or movie.

While I was at the cinema today with my family, we saw a movie about Sherlock Holmes or Khan/Smog (depending on your fandom) recruit Elizabeth Swan, from Pirates of the Caribbean ,and Tom Bransen, from Downton Abbey  to build a machine that would screw over nazi Germany.  I understand from a random perspective this would sound absolutely bonkers, but I promise you that is exactly how I was forced to interpret the entire plot due to my obsessive fan girl brain.  In reality we only went to see the movie the Imitation Game starring Benedict Cumberbatch.

Being a fan girl isn’t easy. Every time you turn around there is a new imaginary hot man you will never get to be with. Plus, imaginary men ruin the real ones for you.  Real men simply cannot meet the romantic expectations that are put into heads by some fictional literary characters. Also, many people are confused by references that accidentally slip our of your mouth. I’m disappointed in you, Sherlock. Still, this is not the point.

The point is that I almost… almost felt guilty about sitting there, not fully appreciating the heart throbbing drama revealing its self before my very eyes. I was simply too busy debating the implications of the interactions of each character, drawing parallels to each of their stereotyped roles in my head. You should have seen the annoyance on my mother’s face when I asked her why John wasn’t there asking stupid questions to Sherlock Holmes the entire time. This may sound crazy, but I prefer to call it the curse of a fangirl.

Your guide to pissing off Target employees

One thing that I absolutely love about my friends is their spontaneous attitude about life.

Three of us have a tradition of hanging out every Friday night. Unfortunately the third member of our “magic trio” bailed so we ended up becoming the “dynamic duo.” Either way, we followed through on our plan of going into town and having a night out.

We started out the night in a pretty dull way. Shopping for ski helmets. But as the night progressed so did the entertainment. While at the athletic store, I explained to him the magic of yoga pants. They are so soft and fit your curves really well. The poor guy just stood there looking a little lost. Although I tease him about being my gay best friend, he is in fact, completely strait.

By the end of the night, we were running around causing havoc wherever we went. While at wal-mart we somehow managed to attract the attention of nearby employees as we played with the hula hoops and tested out the sofas.

Before we headed back home, we had one last idea in the car. My friend has decided to start his own comedy YouTube channel (I will share the link in later blogs) His idea was to go around in public performing random stunts and pranks. So, I suggested that we stop by a nearby Target to take our prank ideas for a test drive. This turned out to be one of the better suggestions of the evening.

We learned that Target employees don’t have a sense of humor. Or, many of them didn’t understand that the things we asked for did not exist. When I was finally able to track down a sales associate, I asked him in a very serious tone of voice if they had “wireless extension cords” in stock. He look at me, a bit baffled, before looking on his phone at their inventory. I think he missed the idea that you cannot plug electric cords into thin air….. I almost felt bad for the guy, knowing that he would likely inquire about the producer later to his manager.

The next lady we asked  nearly started yelling at my poor friend when he gathered enough courage to ask for “heated toilet paper” in a serous tone. “ARE YOU MESSING WITH ME???” she said quickly began to get annoyed before quietly cursing us out.  I had to hide behind a nearby isle in order to keep her from seeing my muffled and uncontrollable laughter. I picked up a bottle of lotion and began to study it intently.   Her anger was almost comical, as mean as that may sound, simply because it was so sudden.. like she had been holding it in for just this moment.

Lastly, I asked the guy at the customer service desk for an “inverse printer… one that takes words off a printed page.” He looked at me and acted much like the first guy. He looked at me confused before I quickly added “It was on my college supply list for the spring semester.” I have to give him a few awesome points for how well he handled the situation from a customer service standpoint. He offered to help me track one down online, but I made an excuse about having to meet someone soon.

At this point my friend pretty much dragged me out the door and back to the car. I may have embarrassed him a little too much… Oh well….  He somehow manages to put up with me while still enjoying himself joining in shenanigans. Either way,  he’s simply awesome and the night turned out to be pretty decent.

Aren’t migraines fun?

Around two o’clock this morning, I had the uncomfortable experience of waking up to an excruciating pain behind my left eye. My whole face had gone numb. The first thought which crossed my mind upon waking to this  pain was “Not again. Not today.” For several years now, I have the misfortune of experiencing occasional migraines. In a way, they have  become a ritualistic event for me.

Confused and disoriented, I stood up and quickly managed to stand up and walk to my bathroom cabinet, tripping over laundry, my cat, a few empty water bottles, and a desk on the way. For me it’s  a race against the clock. There is about a five minuet time span between the time I notice the pain, and when I completely lose consciousness.( When I say “lose consciousness,”  I literally mean black out on the hard cold floor. ) I use this 5 minuets to do everything in my power to minimize the pain and get into a comfortable place.

As I rummaged through my cabinet looking for my medication, my vision began to go fuzzy signaling that my time was running short. There is a certain  irony in this situation.  For those of you who have vision problems, I am sure you will be able to sympathize that it is very hard to read microscopic labels on various bottles when your world has gone completely blurry. It was at this moment when I remembered that I had stuck a large green label on the bottle for this exact reason. If I can manage to take the meds before this time frame has expired, it means that I will be spared from about five hours of extra pain.  Luckily, this time I was able to take a sigh of relief.

Waking up after getting a migraine are always some of the oddest experiences.  I feel a sense of relaxation and complete blissful calm. It is actually a very pleasant experience.

Yet on the other hand, it also feels as if any logic has completely fled my mind. It is as if my mind has been exchanged with that of a goldfish. It is like my mind has been reduced to mush. Even though all day has passed, I am still having trouble forming coherent sentences for this post. I also try to limit my social interaction in this state because  of my trouble with speech after a migraine. Once in a while I will unintentionally begin to slur my words. This is why I typically like to avoid school like the black plague when I deal with one of these monster -like headaches.

A little later on in the afternoon my day was much improved my the visit of a good friend. We managed to have a good time and slip in a few laughs despite my awkward morning. Luckily, I should be back to normal by tomorrow.

Crowds are Scary.

Usually I try to  avoid large social events. As many of my close friends are aware… I much prefer a small  and cozy group of friends. Not only are small gatherings more personal, but there is a psychological phenomenon where people tend to lose themselves mentally in crowds. They forget their humanity, morality, and they lose their distinctive personalities. I’m not sure about other people, but this tends to scare me a little bit.

While I was at a basketball game tonight, I had a bit too much time to reflect upon this fact. As many of us may remember, High School sporting events are a species of their own. Unlike other students, I have a unique perspective at sporting events. I am not on the court or in the stands. I am the person on the sidelines reporting on and photographing the event. Being a journalist allowed me access and perceive an event from whole new angle. My press pass pretty much grants me access to any  event. At the event, I am allowed to sit anywhere I wish (within reason.) It is a pretty sweet deal.

Still, I need to have some proof that I was actually doing work for the publication… rather then mooching off all the perks.  I went to go retrieve a memory card I had left in my truck. I stuck a little board at the base of the door to keep it fro shutting and locking me out. Unfortunately the memory card was not there. To make matters worse, upon trying to return into the building through the door I had exited, I found it locked… Someone had removed my little safety measure.

For a minuet I stood there, unsure what to do. My options were limited. Either wait for someone to see me outside and let me in, or walk around the entire building in the dark and freezing temperatures.  I decided to wait. Eventually someone did decide to walk by the door. We made eye contact, but before she had a chance to let me in she was quickly distracted by her friends. Withing seconds she forgot about helping me out.

While I was waiting outside for someone to let me back in, I reflected on the beginning of the game. This huge rivalry between schools seemed like an excuse for students to act like complete jerks to their fellow teenagers.  One school has a pretty famous reputation for being wealthy. At one point during the game, students whipped out dollar bills and began to throw them around as if teasing the kids from the other school. I still fail to see what this has to do with basketball. Still, I am positive that individually no student would do that on their own. It was an action of the crowd, not an individual.

Despite the flaws of the idea of a rivalry, they can be pretty entertaining. Using the same stereotype of rich and poor, it was a year ago when kids from the “wealthy school” showed up in suit jackets while kids from the other high school’s student government spread word for everyone to dress like hobos as a school spirit activity.  From my perspective of a journalist, this was nothing short of entertaining to write about.  The irony of this rivalry is that the economic status of both towns are pretty consistent.

Although large crowds can be entertaining to watch, I prefer not to take part. This is mostly because I hate the idea of being judged by the actions of a group I have no say in. I like to think that when I take a controversial stand, it will be on purpose for something which actually matters.

The Little Lithuanian

While I was quietly sitting in advanced art today, minding my own business, my peaceful day was awkwardly interrupted by the new Lithuanian foreign exchange student at my school.  It takes a decent amount of effort to pull me out of my under-caffeinated trance in my first class of the day, but she somehow managed it.

The class was dead silent until out the blue she started laughing hysterically. Some brave sole tapped her on the shoulder to ask what was so funny. She then proceed to embark on a solid twenty minuet rant about about Kim Kardashian’s Ass…. The entire class sat in horror at the words which were not- so-elegantly flowing from her mouth. Many awkward glances were exchanged before, out of the grace of God, something happened to quickly end her rant.

She was sitting by a sink when the pipes randomly started to make creaking noises, before breaking. Water began to spray from under the sink, soaking her backpack and feet. She quickly shut up and jumped out of the wet crossfire. Although it may have been mean of me, I had difficulty controlling my laughter and eventually lost the battle to curb it.

Still, this incident alone was not enough get on my nerves. Another incident happened at lunch one day. For the first time in about four days, I dedicated to say on campus for lunch. I was chatting with my friends as we sat on our little bar stools. My fiend’s bag was sitting on the floor when the exchange student decided to mosey over and pick it up before my eyes. I was watching it because she was in the restroom. Without a word or explanation, the girl began to rummage through it. I sat there in surprise before mouthing the words “WTF” aloud. She proceeded to pull everything out as I went to grab the bag. I asked her what she thought she was doing…  “I am looking for food, my lunch is a little boring today,” she said in her odd little foreign accent. I would have had sympathy for the girl if she had been hungry, maybe a refugee from a hard life back home. I do not know her background. But, she had a lunch box stuffed full of perfectly good food! There was clearly no need to steal  lunches.

Dumbfounded, I wasn’t quite sure to say in reply. I don’t care what country you are from. Rummaging through strangers bags’ isn’t exactly a social norm.

I usually make it a point to befriend foreign exchange students. It is difficult to adapt to  a new country, a new culture, a new language. I even have plenty of friends who could be considered pretty eccentric. This girls isn’t exactly easy to get along with. Still, the future may hold a reasonable explication for her behavior.