Words are not enough. How do I convey this feeling, some people that I know are like jewels tossed in the mud. Shocking color. Is this love?
People who will dance barefoot in the rain with me, crowd of baffled onlookers.
People who aren’t afraid to get messy, mentally, physically. People who let themselves regress to grade school age.
My life has been full of those who deeply impress me. So lucky.
haven’t been able to write poetry in months and I think I’ve convinced myself that it doesn’t matter.
Another Hindi song for you because it’s still that time of year.
London is only awesome if you are rich, or don’t care how much money you spend (which amounts to the same thing in my book).
London for me was a black hole, draining my cash at horrendous rates. It was also pretty cool. I need to learn to let go sometimes.t
I love LOVE taking pictures of cops, but it also makes me nervous. So many street performers in London. And the greater Europe.
My travel buddy being touristy :p
I met people from Spain, Germany, Italy, Lebanon, Morocco, Pakistan, Nepal, France, Slovakia, Poland, India, etc…. and I think only ONE SINGLE BRITISHER. Basically the whole world is slowly being funneled into London. I was bargaining in Camden Market with the above dude for a shirt. Got it for three pouinds (had to throw in an exitfest bracelet though)
Practiced my Hindi with a Delhi-ite! Also go to Brick Lane if you want AMAZING Indian Food.
Wearing my only Indian dress, for NDSU’s performance.
Miss my boyfriend. Miss my Indian roommate.
Here’s a nice song.
I went to Tomorrowland 2014 completely solo. Best thing I could have possibly done in Europe.
On the first shuttle bus I met the two dudes who I would be hanging out with for the majority of the festival. I was lucky, because there are three reasons to go to Tomorrowland: Drugs, Sex, or Music. They were there for the music, like I was.
Smuggle in some food if you can… the food there is horrendously expensive. I took raw potatoes and carrots and just ate them like that rather than pay their nasty food prices all day.
you can bring a water bottle in. Do that. Make sure it’s empty and hide the cap in your bra or whatever. They don’t pat you down, they just check backpacks/purses.
I paid more for my ticket because the hotel and flight packages don’t sell out as fast as the cheaper ones that go on sale later. I remember being poised above the mouse (should I get it? Should I wait?) I clicked “confirm”, and I have never regretted it. Probably the best experience of my life. I could pay twice that price and it would still be worth it. Going solo was easy… at least as a woman, you will make friends easily.
The two dudes who I was hanging out with took SO many pictures and videos that I felt like I needed to be constantly documenting the experience as well. The third night I lost them in the crowd and hung out with someone from Jordon who doesn’t even bring his phone in to festivals. He got me to put my phone away and just live it. I gotta say that’s the best way to do it. It’s too stressful to be constantly looking around trying to get a good click. He also offered me drugs, to which my standard “nah man” sufficed as a refusal.
One of the dozen or so stages…
Love the information desk.
sorry ripped this off tumblr and CANNOT figure out who the original poster was.
This hits me. I was not taught this. I was taught only one thing:
No sex before marriage.
Okay I thought teenage boys were just horny and it wasn’t *really* their fault if they just pushed and pushed until you gave in. I wish I wish I wish I would have known, when someone doesn’t respect the word”No” kick him the hell out of your life. Once I left for college I never had problems with this again. No one pushed it, because….
I make a point of ridding my life of anyone who is not good for me. I have made a business of leaving people behind.
I guess learning things the hard way is the best way to make the message stick.
Amsterdam was the beginning of finding my traveling groove. I freaking like that city. Also did my first walking tour here.
The thing about “free” walking tours is you don’t really get a three hour tour for nothing. They expect you to pay and if you don’t tip you will (and should) feel like a terrible human being. Plus this tour was SO informative that it was definitely worth the euros. Our tour guide was intensely knowledgeable. Amsterdam is full of History (I know that’s a very American-in-Europe thing to say).
I love walking tours. I try to do one in every city I go to now. The best one was Amsterdam’s, but I hear the one for Brussels is even better. Liverpool’s was the worst one, we left halfway through.
The bikes in Amsterdam are scary. They don’t care about pedestrians so be prepared to jump out of the way often.
Hostel Life, a 12-bed room, one shower. At 2 AM our first night Everyone was yelling at the guy in the bed next to me because he had music on and he wouldn’t use headphones. He got kicked out eventually. I find if you are in a co-ed room, people (dudes) will say something if someone is being loud. But if you are in an all-girls room no one will say anything. Two people banging in my Barcelona hostel literally woke EVERYONE up. And they wouldn’t stop even when I said “Could you NOT have LOUD SEX right now!?!? Co-ed rooms are the way to go.
Best place for a church… in the middle of the red light district. Guess the sailors would go to church the morning after visiting the girls and try to buy their way back into heaven. Priests were more than happy to accommodate.
Amsterdam is very rich… was a huge port city where the East India Trading company was located.
I’m getting real fecking tired of feeling like a second class person because I don’t have any aims to be successful.
I’m happy (most of the time) so for GAH sakes why is that not enough? I’m tired of being embedded in the college part of town.
I don’t like most of what a “successful” life entails. Getting richer while those around you get poorer eff that. Why yall’s need so much money.
Why do I feel like I can’t swear on this blog. Because it’s linked to my facebook. gahelkjr.
It’s like… okay:
So when my brother was very young my parents would give him crushed up ice-chips and tell him it was ice-cream, while they had their sundaes or whatever. I’m actually not sure why. Cheapskateism? Sadism? Health concerns?
“Ice-cream! Get ice-cream!” He loved that crap. Didn’t know the difference. Until one day an uncle or grandmother or someone gave him REAL ice-cream. And the jig was up.
Now he’s never said he was mad about this. I guess he just devoured the ice-cream with confusion? Or unbridled joy? Obviously he would never be satisfied with crushed up ice again.
Anyways what I’m trying to say is it’s been 21 years of ice-chips before I met you.
I can’t explain to anyone why I’m still with you through all this. People think you were just my first longterm/serious relationship, and now I’m trapped in that. There is something you have that I can’t label. Something you have that other people just don’t. Almost no one.
And okay it’s gonna be hard. Explaining to my entire extended family that you aren’t a Christian, (cue the horrified glances when I’m looking the other way) and that yes, I intend to kick it on the daily, forever, with you.
But I can’t imagine it won’t be worth it.
The busses in Serbia don’t have strings to pull (at least, the one’s in Novi Sad don’t… perhaps Belgrade is different. Anyways you have to sort of make eye contact with the driver to get him to stop.
I went to Serbia for what is rated the best European music festival… Exitfest. It’s held in a fortress in Novi Sad. My friend from University hosted me, although her parents didn’t speak English. I had read that Serbia uses the normal European outlets, but the one in my room looked a little funny. I gamely tried to plug in my iphone charger anyways and this is what happened:
Basically there was a loud comic book noise (BANG or POP something like that) and all the power went off. My Serbian mom came running in yelling Serbian things. I felt ridiculously stupid. Apparently I could have died so it’s a good thing that didn’t happen.
Speaking of my Serbian mom, she was in the midst of trying to learn English. My favorite sentence of hers?
“My daugher… very.. lazy.”
It’s sort of crazy how you can get a feel for who someone is despite speaking almost none of the same language. My host mom was really comical. We bonded when she gave me a ride to the airport, by singing along to Avicii.
The music festival! Very muddy. Eat Sleep Rain Repeat. Some of my host’s friends actually snuck their way in through the tunnels under the fortress. Which sounds freakin scary to me. This was my first music festival. I had never really liked edm before this, but when everyone is happy-dancing all over the place I guess you will too. And I did.
Yayyyyy Dance Arena!!!
Fireworks, first night, main stage.
The sun is coming up.. still dancing. This is during some Drum and Bass.
Favorite bits of the festival: Stromae. He comes out on stage wearing his Papaoutai outfit and the crowd just goes crazy for him. Beautiful talented man. Here’s that song.
(Other favorite bit) Second or third day of the festival my friend lent me some shoes for the rain. They were too small. Fell apart. She thought it was hilarious and nearly peed herself laughing.
Walking home, 7 AM ish.