The Non-Travel-Related Blog

I know that this is a travel blog, not a place to vent. And I know that I'm supposed to feel happy and lucky that I get to be in Europe for 3 months, and I really am, but at some point in time during everyone's international adventures, they feel unhappy and long for home. I'm feeling that way today. It's not that I'm not enjoying myself immensely here, I just miss the conveniences and familiarity of America.

I just pulled a load of whites out of our washing machine to discover that one of my wardrobe's staple shirts had been splotched with a light brown, and black fuzz coated everything else. How did that happen?! I have no dryer to get the fuzzies off everything, and I don't trust the washer to re-run my shirt through.

In addition to this annoyance, I have no measuring cup to really cook, no book to read when I'm bored out of my mind, no computer (Shane's been taking it to school) to look up the things I don't understand in my study book, and no money to go shopping even if I knew where to go.

The list could go on, but it only took me that long to realize that my unhappiness really stems from my stress. Stress over board exams. Stress over trying to study in between week and weekend-long trips. Stress over the fact that I still can't seem to remember basic, repetitive information that I've been seeing since the beginning of my PTA program. Stress over the knowledge that I HAVE to take the exam within 3 weeks of getting home and I don't feel the least bit prepared. Stress over the possibility of failure. And I can't even allow myself to think beyond the stress of boards...finding an apartment, paying loans and bills, finding a job to pay those bills, fear of sucking at my job, the monotony of an 8-5 job for the rest of my life...I would go insane if I stressed over everything at once.

And I'm not sure how to handle my stress. Today I'm tired, my mind is lethargic, and I can't seem to focus on review material, much less new information. Shane has the computer, so I can't type my notes on previously covered material, or take a practice test to see how much I really need to be stressing out. (But when I do have the computer, I do anything but study.)

I've decided that other than my immediate family (and of course Shane), I'm not going to tell anyone when I go to take the exam. No friends, no classmates, no one. That way if I fail, no one will know--which is probably a large portion of my stress. Failure is one thing, public failure is another. So please pray for me as I wade through my studies and anxiety. I guess all I can do right now is keep trucking and pray for a miraculous memory these next few weeks.

On a different, brighter note, Shane and I have been having a mild war over what pets would be acceptable to own a few years down the road if we got married. A few months ago, I wanted a bunny. He didn't like that idea. Then I wanted a cat. He didn't like that idea either. Then I wanted a puppy. And you guessed it--he didn't like it. Now, Shane doesn't read my blogs very often (shame on you) but for the sake of when he does, I should be clear that I'm not trying to put him in a bad light (aka the animal-hater light). Shane simply has a problem with indoor pets. He doesn't like stepping in pee on his living room floor any more than he likes being covered in hair when he gets up off the couch. And I agree with him 100%. But that's not where it stops. Whether indoor or outdoor, he also doesn't like the cost of pet food, vets, kennels when we want to go on a trip, or the time spent running them, training them, feeding them, etc.

On the other side of the coin, I want nothing more than something furry and cute to cuddle when I get home. I'm a fairly moody person (hey at least I can admit it!) and I just know that a pet would keep me smiling more often. It worked when I went home to my parents' for Thanksgiving and was introduced to the cutest teacup chihuahua I've ever seen.

I had a glimmer of hope a while back when we visited a cat shelter for leisure one Saturday afternoon and Shane found, out of the million there, a gray, short-haired (very important to him) cat that reminded him of the only cat he's ever loved--Atticus. (I know, I was shocked when I found out he loved a cat too.) Atticus was his childhood cat and I have a feeling no other pet will ever hold such a place in his heart. Maybe that's why, as he and this cat looked into each others eyes, I could feel a bond forming. I could also feel a glimmer of hope forming in me. Maybe we could have a pet after all! But alas, my apartment didn't allow pets without a fee, and his house's landlady didn't either (even though HER cat left disgusting black hairs all over that I was still finding when cleaning the kitchen right before Shane moved out.) So we left with no kitty, and once outside all his signs of love for cats disappeared.

We have now been talking dogs. I would love His and Hers dogs. Shane has of late been acting set on a miniature pinscher like his sister's, (the one below isn't hers though)...

...and I really want a cute little pug (it was a spur-of-the-moment desire...but how can you resist that face??!)
Shane has since vetoed the pug idea, based on how fat they are. :( So my next hope is a teacup chihuahua like my parents'. Look how cute they'd be together!!

I also want a gray Atticus kitty that Shane will fall in love with too...
...and a white bunny.
But that is to be determined...and probably vetoed by Shane. :)

P.S. Shane--I promise they'd all live outdoors!...if you build them a cozy house. :)

Barcelona, Spain--Part 2

We woke up the next morning at 5:30am. There was no way we were going to miss our plane this time!! We packed in the dark and were out of the hostel by 6:15. We had to catch the 6:24 train into the city or we would have to wait another half hour. Despite the hill, our luggage, and my high heels, we got to the platform just as it pulled in, and we breathed a sigh of relief that at least the first leg of our journey was working out. Two train and metro rides later, we were at the airport, walking down to our terminal.

It was then that we saw it: Flight to Milan Malpensa—Cancelled. What!! After doing everything right this time our flight was cancelled?? It was also the ONLY flight that was cancelled. Why us!! We resigned ourselves to the fact that we wouldn’t have a nice relaxing afternoon at home after all, and got in the long line to change our tickets…again. Upon reaching the counter, we were told that there was a flight that afternoon…but only had one seat left. The other one left at 4pm, and still another one at 10:10 the next morning. We opted to take the 4pm one and proceeded to have the lady change our tickets, already inwardly moping about the prospect of sitting in another airport all day long. But then she handed us what has become my favorite piece of paper of all time when dealing with airport problems: our rights to compensation. Our eyes latched on the words “hotel compensation” and “meals.” We asked just to make sure…yes! They provided lodging and food if we chose to take the next morning’s flight! Since we had no pressing need to be home before Monday morning, we opted to treat ourselves. (You have to remember that we have been living very cheaply during our trips, so no matter where they put us, it was sure to be a bit nicer than where we’ve been staying.)

We went to the ticket counter for the guy to arrange our lodging. It took him forever…or rather it took London forever to call him back. I’m guessing this doesn’t happen to them very often, or they would be more on top of things. But by and by a group of 6 of us formed and Shane and I were the first in line to be told that we were staying at hotel Alfa, there was a van to take us to the hotel and back to the airport in the morning, and we would receive lunch, dinner, and tomorrow’s breakfast. Sweet!! Free lodging, free food, and free transportation! What more could we ask for?!

So we went out and waited for the van…and waited, and waited. I was freezing in the shade, and that van wasn’t coming every 10 minutes like the guy had said. Finally, we saw a white van approaching. As it passed our group of six, we all saw that it was our van. A collective “ALFA!!” was shouted out by every one of us as the van drove on by. What! All that waiting for nothing? Thankfully though, it parked farther down the road….right in front of the airport where we could have been standing in the sunshine all along.

The ride to the hotel was nice. It was the first time we have been in a vehicle since we got to Europe, which we realized with amusement. Once to the hotel (which was a Best Western), we got our room keys and reveled in the partial luxury of it. Nothing special (no carpet in the rooms, which seems to be a European trend) but the bathroom felt slightly rich. We immediately went downstairs to see if we were allowed breakfast…we weren’t, until the next morning, so we took naps instead while waiting for lunch.

I awoke to Shane’s noise of dismay. “Well, we just missed lunch.” Huh? Lunch was from 12:30 to 3:00 and we didn’t start sleeping until around 10 or 10:30. But he was right. It was a little past 3. Talk about being exhausted! We debated what to do. We were starving, supper didn’t start until 8:30 (they eat late here), and the hotel wasn’t what you would call within walking distance of anything you would term food. So we decided to go down anyways and maybe they would still let us eat.

They did. And boy am I glad they did! With our free voucher cards, we were allowed a three-course meal and a drink. All of which was exciting, because we usually just get an entrée and nothing else because it’s so expensive. I had a really delicious rice and vegetable starter, the tastiest grilled chicken I’ve ever had for an entrée, and crème caramel for dessert. Shane had a starter of pasta, a veal entrée, and fresh fruit for dessert. By the time we were done, we were both so full we could barely move. We went back to our room and bummed around until supper time.

When supper time did come, neither of us were hungry, but how can we pass up free food?! So we went down and ate again…I was so stuffed by the time I finished my starter of soup that I barely choked down half of my sandwich and fries entrée. Plus Shane was experimenting with a salmon dish and the smell alone made me want to vomit. I ended up leaving half of the fries and most of the bread on the plate, feeling wasteful. I did eat my entire ice cream dessert though! Afterward my belly was stuffed to overflowing it felt, and I was actually in pain. On the bright side, we realized that we had been very well fed the entire time we were in Barcelona. And that makes me like it!

We went to bed and the next morning ate a breakfast that was lavish, sporting fresh and canned fruits (including kiwi and apricots, my favorites), cereals, breads, cakes, chocolates, eggs, meats, and Shane’s favorite: fresh squeezed orange juice. We kind of had to shove it down because our van was taking us to the airport at 8:30.

We got to the airport, checked in, and went through security. I wasn’t able to salvage my shampoo from the trash this time because I was too busy being frisked. At least we made it through until we were on our way home! When we got to our gate they announced that it was delayed 30 minutes. But it wasn’t too bad, and we finally packed in the plane with everyone for the 1 hour 50 minute flight home. Once in Milan we took a bus to central station, which was cheaper than the train. We arrived safe and sound to a very messy house. I know, I slacked this time.

And that was our week-long adventure! This week will be very short, because we are headed to Venice this weekend! Stay tuned. And once again, Paris and Barcelona pictures are posted to Photobucket. Enjoy. :)

Pictures Have Arrived!

Check out my Photobucket account for the pictures of Paris and Barcelona...also a few more in the Milan album.

I am still getting around to finish the Barcelona blog....but you'll have to be in suspense for a while. :)

Barcelona, Spain--Part 1

Once again, after getting off the plane we had to cross over the entire airport to the train station, where a kind worker helped us decide which tickets to get and where to go. We did a lot of switching between trains and metros again, since our hostel (INOUT) was kind of OUT of town. By the time the train dropped us off at our final stop, it was about 10:30am. We followed the abundant signs toward our hostel, which was up a small road. And kept going, and going, and going. Did I mention that this (rather rough) road is up a very steep and winding hill, with no sidewalk for the convenience of rolling suitcases? By the time we reached the top it had started raining big drops, and I was annoyed due to lack of sleep and the strain of dragging my suitcase up that ridiculous hill. No wonder this hostel was so cheap!

Once there at check-in, the woman pulled out the email we had sent the night before about not being able to make it for the first night of our reservation. She also pulled out the print-off of our reservation, which had a big NO SHOW written across it. She then proceeded to tell us that they had gotten our email, but we hadn’t specified which date we wouldn’t be there for. I pointed to the email. “The date is right there on our email. We sent it last night, as soon as we found out we couldn’t make it.” She laughed what I like to think was a nervous laugh and said, “Yes, but we didn’t know when you would get here.” I bit my tongue and refrained from pointing out they had our name and reservation date IN THE COMPUTER, and instead settled on thinking in my mind how she was making herself look really dumb and incompetent right now. She still charged us for the previous night since we hadn’t cancelled 2 days prior, and a 10% fee because we weren’t members of the “Hostels Club” or some nonsense like that.

As if the trek up the horrid hill wasn’t bad enough for their reputation, the actual rooms and “restaurant” were even farther up the hill. We did find our room of 10 bunk beds nice and clean. The surroundings really were pretty, as we were up on a hill with a lot of trees, technically in a park of some kind. I assume it’s a lot nicer in the summer time. The hostel did have good reviews, and for the most part, other than that hill, I could see why.

Lunch was somewhat challenging. The staff is mostly all comprised of people with Down’s syndrome, which I think is really cool. However, that combined with the language barrier made ordering for lunch a bit more difficult, as you had to buy a ticket at a different front desk, then present it to the workers serving food from a buffet. The other option was to look on a menu at the front desk and order what you wanted…which we originally did. I ordered lasagna and Shane ordered pizza. But through a lot of language barrier confusion, the lack of lasagna in stock, and the discovery that they serve frozen pizzas instead of homemade, we opted to choose the buffet option. This consisted of noodle soup, fried chicken, salad or potato chips, and fresh strawberries. We got full enough, but decided that other than our free breakfast the next morning, we would seek food elsewhere.

After lunch we settled in for a nice long nap until about 4pm, when we decided we needed to get out and do something productive in Barcelona, or at least eat supper. I felt I could have slept the whole night through. But since we had lost a whole day basically, we felt we had to at least do SOMETHING with our evening.

We ended up going downtown and eating at a cafeteria type place that offered an all-you-can-eat buffet of salads, main courses, desserts, and drinks all for a little under 9 Euros each. I got plenty full and satisfied, which made getting out of bed worth it to me. Because it was still raining and we were just plumb tuckered out still, we decided to head back to the hostel for the night and just plan on a full next day. I slept like a baby again.

The next day we ate breakfast, which in my opinion wasn’t the best. We set out for town kind of late, around 10 or so. Thankfully we were blessed with a sunny and pretty warm day, which was a welcome treat from the harsh coldness of Milan and Paris. We set out for the most famous cathedral in Barcelona, Santa Maria del Mar. It’s free between certain hours in the morning and evening; otherwise it’s 5 Euros each to go inside. We found it and entered what looked like a mildewed, dank church that really wasn’t that spectacular. Five minutes and maybe five pictures later, we were thankful we hadn’t spent five Euros. Upon looking at a map though, we realized that this wasn’t the cathedral at all! Whew. So we found the actual cathedral, which still looked mildewed but at least was much more elaborate. Still, we were glad we were getting to see it for free because it still didn’t evoke feelings of being worth 5 Euros.

Next on our list was the Ramblas, which is a touristy, quaint, wide walkway in between two streets sporting everything from pet shop stands to painters and street mimes. (I have several pictures which unfortunately aren’t shrunk to post yet, but soon they will be up on my Facebook and Photobucket.) As I walked along this lively street, I fell in love with Barcelona. I actually have to say it is the best thing I did there. The bunnies in the pet shops were adorable, the mimes were superbly entertaining, and the painters’ artwork made my heart skip a beat. The thing to watch out for, however, are the thieves that are most likely to con and rob you on the Ramblas. We have proudly not been robbed or fallen for any cons of any kind, but we have been tried. One man approached us on the Ramblas with a frantic look on his face. “Speak English??” (In a Spanish accent, nonetheless.) We looked at him and passed by without saying a word. Behind us, we could hear him following us for a few steps. “Please, my bags have been stolen!” We kept on walking and eventually he gave up to try his lame tactic on some less suspecting soul. I mean, let’s think this through. If you have an accent, and you’re in Spain (aka it is probably safe to assume you speak Spanish), why would you ask some random tourist to help you with your stolen bag problem…in English!? We laughed at his dense con logic and saluted ourselves to once again escaping the naïve tourist pothole.

Next stop: Segrada Familia, an extremely unique, unfinished cathedral funded solely by donations and the fees from tourists to go inside. Fees being 12 Euros to go in, and 2.50 to go up the lift to the top. We paid this 14.50 Euros apiece. And our recommendation is: don’t do it until the building is finished! When looking at pictures of the outside, you would think that the inside is normal, with perhaps a bit of extra work still to be done. Not so. There is a single tiny walkway around one half of the inside for you to look at the ceiling. The rest of the space is taken up by top to bottom scaffolding, building materials, machinery, and concrete dust. Oh, and the jackhammer busting up a hole in the concrete, which made it so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think, much less carry on a conversation. I felt bad for the people who paid for an audio guide. When we did get to the top of the tower after waiting in line for a good 30 minutes or more, it consisted of a tiny space resembling a castle top with tiny openings to look out on. It held about 5 people, max. The view wasn’t even that great. The only cool thing about it was the endless winding staircase to get to the bottom, which made you feel claustrophobic and a little fearful of falling through the hole in the middle. All in all, it wasn’t worth the money, but it will be amazing to see when finished. We’ll just go back in 20 years.

Last on our list of things to see (that we could get to or afford) was the sea. Tons of sailboats spotted the bay, and we walked across a bridge full of people lying in the sun to get to a shopping mall. That was nice, because there really aren’t many malls in Europe. Of course this was small compared to America’s, but decent for Europe. While there I bought two shirts for 1 Euro each.

Since we didn’t have anything else to do, we strolled along the sea walk, sat on benches in the sun, and people-watched at the Ramblas. During one of our siestas on a sea wall, I looked up to see two guys slowly strolling by, staring intently with smirks on their faces. And they didn’t look away, even when I stared back and pasted a glare on my face. When Shane caught one of their eyes, the guy laughed and kept walking. But after a ways they both looked back. In my opinion, they were walking too slow and staring too deliberately for it to be a simple attraction issue. It was more like they wanted to rob us blind. It was actually the second time while sitting there that I’d caught a guy blatantly and rudely staring. Whatever it was, we decided to make our way to a different spot. I couldn’t help but keep looking behind me to make sure they weren’t following us. For some reason they really weirded me out.

We settled on eating at a small place that Rick Steves recommended in his guide book. Juicy Jones was a small, quiet little vegetarian restaurant that served fresh fruit juice and a 3-course meal for a little under 9 Euros. The owner was very friendly and translated the menu for us. Between the two of us, we got potato soup, homemade hummus, a tasty plate of rice and Indian curries, gluten shish kebabs, chocolate pudding, and apple crisp. By the time we were finished, we were absolutely stuffed! The food was delicious and it was really nice not having to worry about picking out strange meats out of our meal. We went back to our hostel after that, fat and happy.

To be continued…

Sleepless in Paris

Well to continue where I left off, Shane and I wandered down the darkened halls of the Paris airport losing happiness by the minute as we discovered that all the stores, restaurants, and cafes were closed for the night. Our happiness was saved only by the discovery of a nicer terminal waiting area in AirFrance, which was sporting cheery lights, clean surroundings, homeless overnighters like us, a cleaning crew, and a night-shift construction crew. The bathrooms were clean and fancy compared to the ones in EasyJet, and we were able to find some decent seats right beside a plug-in, which was a must considering we had bought 24 hours of WiFi for our laptop.

However, as the night wore on, it became obvious to me that this would be a repeat of our flight over to Italy. Sleepless. Let me rephrase that. Sleepless for me. Shane spent a good hour or more sleeping on the seats beside me, wrapped around the armrests. On the bench back-to-back with us were two other men who also chose to wait out their night there. Between the three of them, I was serenaded by a chorus of snores that gave me chills. How they could sleep through the electric saw being used to construct a booth 15 feet away, I don’t know. I myself was entertained by staring at my lifeless Facebook page, observing the monotonous custodial crew, and browsing the internet for the strange things you only have time to browse during situations like these.

By about 4am Shane had woken up and the rotating door nearby was allowing in chillier and chillier air, so we opted to walk back down to our terminal for the remainder of the wait. We could begin checking in at 5:30, as our plane left at 7:55. Unfortunately our terminal was still blocked off for the night, but we saw a few other earlybirds sneaking in so we did too, and found a decent bench to sit at while watching more TV shows.

Around 6:30 or so we went and checked in. We’d had to buy a bottle of shampoo in Paris because only 3.5 ounces are allowed on EasyJet and I had no small containers to pack shampoo in from home. I went ahead and put this bottle in a baggie, even though I knew it was way too big for them to allow through. Fortunately for us, the two women checking the scanner were laughing and joking to each other and really didn’t do a very good job of inspecting our stuff, so I was able to stick the shampoo back in my bag without them saying a word! That’s a first. Luck finally decided to grant me something nice.

After a short wait in which I realized that this day was going to be extremely long and exhausting, we boarded a bus, which took us to the plane. Lame. Yet another reason why EasyJet is so cheap. But on the plus side, you’re allowed to pick your own seat on the plane, so Shane and I were able to snag a front-ish row and ended up having the third seat to ourselves too. I was so exhausted by this point that I laid my head on Shane’s shoulder, closed my eyes, and half slept during the entire taxi and takeoff. Also a first. Our flight was about 1 ½ hours and I quickly made myself as comfortable as possible stretched out in the two seats. Shane laid his head against the wall and we were both out within seconds.

Halfway through the flight I slightly woke up to realize that the side of my face that I wasn’t sleeping on was entirely numb, including half of my mouth. I’m not talking about when your arm goes to sleep or something, I’m talking about the dentist giving you a shot in the gums and you can’t feel your mouth or face for the rest of the day. It was so weird. My only clue is that my ear on that side was also plugged up really bad from the pressure, and perhaps had something to do with my numb face. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to keep me from falling back asleep, and I slept until the pilot began announcing our descent into Barcelona.

Can't get enough of Paris? Miss a flight!

Sooo yeah, we missed our flight to Barcelona. First flight either of us has ever missed. Here's how it went down...

We woke up this morning, ate breakfast at the hostel, packed up, checked out, and stored our luggage. We had about 5 or 6 hours to kill before we needed to be at the airport, so we visited the Louvre museum (Mona Lisa is surprisingly smaller than expected), climbed the stairs to the Basilique du Sacre-Coeur, bought a few souvenirs, and picked up some more yummy quiche and pastries from the patisserie.

By and by, we swung by our hostel to pick up our luggage and made our way to the train station. Destination: Charles de Gaulle airport. Unfortunately, the platform we were supposed to leave from had rescheduled to a completely separate section, which we got lost trying to find. After some friendly directions, we found and boarded the train. While sitting there waiting for it to leave, we realized that perhaps we just might not make it to the airport in time. The ride took about 30 minutes, plus an excruciatingly long 15-minute walk through the station/airport to get to our gate. Our flight was leaving at 6:25pm, and check-in strictly ended 40 minutes prior. Well, it was 40 minutes prior when we pulled in to the station, where we promptly took off for our gate...in the wrong direction. Due to a mounting suspicion which led us to ask a worker where EasyJet was, we raced back the other way, mentally cursing our 3 layers of coats, sweaters, scarves, and long johns.

By the time we FINALLY reached our section dripping with sweat, it was 6:00. We were told at the ticket counter that the guy's "associate will help you at check-in for gate 7." After getting lost again trying to find check-in for gate 7 (wasn't it check-in where we were just at??), we breathlessly requested check-in again, only to be told that it was too late. The next flight, she calmly told us, didn't leave until 7:55am the next morning, and we needed to pay another 52 Euro each for the schedule transfer. Say what! I'm pretty sure we only paid 48 each for the original tickets. We ignored protocol and somehow ran past a guard and to our actual gate check-in, where we were again told very unsympathetically that we were just too late. This said with a disgusted raised eyebrow as she eyed our sweaty faces. No pity for the poor and weary? No, not a single sign of sympathy. Defeated, we went over our other options and decided that any other flights leaving earlier would just be too expensive; waiting it out was our best option.

So we've staked out a spot near the only plug-in we've seen and settled in for the long, promising sleepless night on the one trip we've taken without our pillows or travel sleeping bags. Not even any chairs without armrests to stretch out on. No rest for the weary. On the bright side, we paid about 10 Euro to have 24 hours of internet, and we have plenty of movies and TV shows to watch. No promises on our moods tomorrow though! I guess we'll find out.

For now though, we're going to go explore this huge airport and see what interesting things we can find for the next 9 hours....

Bienvenue à Paris!

Church went well on Saturday. We arrived without getting lost, listened to an Italian sermon, listened to Italian singing, Italian children's story, Italian announcements...you get my point. We managed to get in and get out having only spoken 3 words to two different people: "I speak English." There must have only been about 100 people there, but it was still nice being in a church atmosphere, language barrier or not.

Monday morning we flew out to Paris without a hitch after figuring out the metro/train system to the airport. Once there, we realized our mistake of not really figuring out the details of how to get to our hostel from the airport...for that matter, we didn't really know the details of getting into Paris from the airport! A map and 17 Euros each for a 2-way ticket into Paris later, we realized that this city would slightly break our bank.

Nevertheless, after our expensive 30-minute train ride, we found our hostel...a huge, modern place right on the river with huge windows and a hopping common area. We took advantage of the nightly dinner special for 6 Euros...which turned out to be HALF of a stuffed pepper (it was really good though) and a salad generously flavored with vinegar. This wasn't very filling, but it sufficed. Since we were tired from our all-day journey to Paris, we opted to turn in early and do our sightseeing the next day.

Nature decided it hated us the next day, however, and proved it by raining and shoving a cold wind in for good measure. It had been sunny and clear the day before. :( But we made the best of it and gritted our teeth through the weather misery as we visited Notre Dame, the Louvre (which happened to be closed that day), Arc de Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower. It was nice to actually go IN these things this time, as Lydia and I were unlucky enough to either go on a day they were closed, or not have the money to pay to go in.

In the afternoon we opted to take a much-needed nap and go back out in the evening for some necessary Eiffel Tower night shots. It proved to be a great decision, because we were graced with no rain and warmer air. The tower was gorgeous in all it's nighttime majestic-ness, and we even splurged and paid the 9.50 Euro to go to the 2nd level (the 3rd level was closed for maintenance). Unfortunately our previous idea to eat at the restaurant there was squelched when we looked online and discovered that it was outrageously expensive. I'm talking up to 85 Euro for a STARTER item. The full course meal was no less than 200 Euro. We wrinkle our noses at full meals that are more than 10-15 Euro, so this wasn't even really up for discussion.

Nevertheless, it turned out to be a great night, and we finished it off by a good yet simple meal from a near-by patisserie.

Pictures will be arriving at the photobucket site in hopefully just a couple days!

This and That

I have successfully gotten up-to-date in my photobucket albums, so peruse away! I've discovered that I can only link each individual album to my blogs, so I think it's just better to find them yourself as I described in my last blog.

Well, after 4 days of getting up early and going to bed late, I am officially exhausted. However, I have felt very accomplished. I am currently fully packed for our trip next week, and I hope to get some much-needed rest before then. I studied some today, did 3 loads of laundry, cleaned, and am now relaxing by reading Rick Steves' "Europe Through the Back Door"....2006. I found it humerous to see that apparently an ant perished back then.
The man next door keeps listening and singing to Christian songs that I haven't heard in years and had forgotten even existed. Right now it's "Father I Adore You" in English. Sometimes I sing along...I mean, it's loud enough. Often he can also be heard shouting--turns out he's apparently practicing a speech, which makes me wonder if he's a pastor. It sure sounds like a sermon. But I hope he's not Adventist because there's only one SDA church in Milan and I don't want my ears boxed tomorrow if I can't understand what's being yelled at me.

Speaking of church, 3 people all found and gave me the information for the same church...so thank you! From those 3, I was able to find the church name, service times, and location. It's an easy metro ride away. I have to admit I feel awkward going to a church where I won't know anyone OR understand anything being said. Maybe they'll have translation devices. Either way, I've felt like a "Badventist" for having not gone to church since we got here (although we were away traveling all but one time). So it will still be nice to go since we know about it now.

Last night was interesting, but not really in a good way. Wednesday night we went to an aperitivo with Shane's classmates again. It was a crowded, noisy place but had good food. Last night a few others were going to a different one called "Royalto", a luxurious, white, fancy place with 7 buffets and servers, all underneath a humongous crystal chandelier. (But still only 8 Euro for a drink and all you can eat.) It took us 3 switches on the trams (a system we hadn't yet tried) and a long frigid walk to get there. Once inside, Shane's classmates were nowhere to be seen, and all the empty couches were reserved. We were told we could sit at the bar, but it was full too. On further exploration, we discovered most of the buffets (consisting of 1-2 dishes each) contained meat we didn't care to experience, so we opted to leave. As we left, we saw his classmates coming in, but based on the food selection, we left anyways. The trip back was slightly horrid due to the outside temperatures. You don't get the semi-comfort of being underground when waiting for trams, and we usually had to wait up to 10 minutes. Seemed to me the night was more frigid than most. To make a long story short, we trammed, walked, and metroed all the way home, looking for other aperitivos along the way with no luck. By the time we reached home it was nearly 10pm...we had headed out around 7. And we still hadn't eaten. We ended up going down the street to an "Old Wild West" restaurant, where we ate a good ol' American meal of burgers, fries, and "Old Wild West Peanuts" out of the shell.

Thank you to everyone who emailed me about my blog! I enjoy your comments. However, for future reference, that gmail address is only in existence because it's required in order to have a blogger account, so I rarely ever check it. My primary email is ashelle_troyer@hotmail.com, and I check it daily . Or you can post comments on the blogs themselves--those go to my hotmail address too.

Paris and Barcelona start on Monday, so if you're itching to have a souvenir from there, let us know soon!

Photobucket Link

I realize that my link to the photobucket pictures isn't working. I haven't yet found the correct url to link it to here, so instead you can do it the manual way or wait until I figure it out.

• Go to: www.photobucket.com
• In the images search box at the top type in "AshelleT"...it will say that no matches were found, but at the bottom it will give you the option of going to the profile: ("Are you looking for the Photobucket user ashellet? Click here to see this user's profile")
• Once there, I think it's easiest to click the "All albums" view because I've arranged them in chronological order by which vacation period.

Enjoy!

Accomplishment

The past two days have been very productive. Yesterday I got up around 7:30am, made Shane and I a cup of Italian cappuccino, and saw him out the door to class. I made him take the computer with him so I would be forced to study. It's a magic formula. By the end of the day when Shane got home around 6pm, I had:

• Finished the chapter in my study book that I've been snailing through for the past 2 weeks
• Did 3 loads of laundry
• Washed a huge pile of dishes in the sink
• De-cluttered the apartment
• Put clean sheets on the beds (and made them)
• Scrubbed the bathroom, kitchen table, and counters
• Swept and mopped the entire apartment
• Sat down with a Rick Steves guide book and wrote out sightseeing spots and tips for our future visit to Amsterdam (which promises to be....interesting)

In the midst of all this I took a shower, got ready for the day, and ate lunch.

Today I got up around 8, went grocery shopping (which included a 30 minute walk), studied half of another chapter in my book, did another load of laundry, did last night's dishes, ate, and made polenta for tomorrow's breakfast. It's only 1:00. Can I say I'm proud of myself? Ok. I'm proud of myself!

On another note, our trip is postponed until Monday because Shane has seminars to go to tomorrow and Friday. I guess that means we'll finally be scouting out a church this week. Cross your fingers that we find it!

We've also started scouting around for souvenirs for our families (parents, grandparents, sisters, and my friends Andi and Luis--we don't really have the money or space for anyone else) so if you fall into those categories start your wish list and help us out with some suggestions!

I am still in the process of uploading pictures to photobucket, but here is the link and you can keep checking back, as it will eventually be up-to-date. http://s997.photobucket.com/home/AshelleT/allalbums

Now, back to studying!

P.S. We were informed the other day that our "urinal" is actually a bidet. Whoops. Although who would want to use it rather than a good old-fashioned shower or wet wash cloth, I don't know. To each his own...