Hola, hola! Did you think you were going to get rid of me? NEVER! I have material for a lifetime of this blog, my dears.
We haven't discussed (and by that I mean I haven't rambled about) my recent trip to the continent! Ah, this was the one thing I omitted from this blog--until now. So sit back and be ready to be amused--or not, because to be honest not a lot of tragically funny things happened during this trip and I enjoyed myself enormously mostly without any incidents.
Here we go, then!
1. Belgians are super tall and skinny and they all have bikes.
This is Model-land. It's ridiculous--everyone is attractive, fair-skinned, tall, thin, classy. And even if you do see a fellow chubster, they have the appearance of health and vigor because they all ride their bikes--young and old, men and women, slave and free--BIKES, BIKES EVERYWHERE!! You know what that means, right? That means they can afford to eat their ridiculously fatty traditional food and be totally okay. But me? I got the Mexican Carb Curse... so let's just say that there's a valid reason why I have to unbutton my jeans after a couple hours of wearing them.
2. The land of the Fries
Belgian food is fried everything, which is both a blessing and a curse. Being a junk food lover, this was paradise-- even if there comes a point when you can't actually tell what exactly you are eating--I had a squared fried goody called "The Mexicano" that tasted nothing like anything Mexican and, to be honest, I'm not even sure what kind of "meat" (if indeed it was meat) it was:
what are we looking at here, you ask? Your guess is as good as mine...
But I can't complain-- eating fries and waffles everyday was a beautiful dream.
The glories of fries bathing in ketchup...
A proper Belgian meal with entree and two sides...
Basically lost my mind-- I blame the carbs.
Yes, it's all fun and games and yummy fried food until someone's jeans don't close. That, my friends, is the genetic pool I must live with. If you experience this addiction for fried goods, I invite you to sit down and draft a plan to fight back as you eat a basket of delicious mozzarella sticks, onion rings and----NO, NO, NO, DON'T GIVE IN! *says she as she dips her last fry in the little cup of ketchup*
3. AND CHOCOLATE, CHOCOLATE EVERYWHERE.
Belgium, the land of indulgence. If I ever wanted to get to heaven, I would have to avoid setting a foot in Belgium again to prevent myself from gluttonously eating my life away. You know Godiva chocolate is from Belgium right? Okay, so imagine having like one hundred Godiva stores in a 3 mile radius---that's what Belgium is like. Here's a picture of me wrestling a chocolate elephant outside "Chocoholic":
Melts in your mouth, not your hand.
5. Luckily, we walked a lot
Mostly because my companion had little understanding of cartography (I still love you, Betty Jo!). But this was good because it made me feel less guilty about eating waffles that were dripping with oil. Also, because we got to see lots of nice things and that, I guess. I saw four different cities in four days, so you could say I practically saw all of Belgium (have you seen the size of the thing? It's adorable). Leuven, Brussels, Brugge, and Spa. Here, have a look:
tomb of St. Damian
SHSU helped rebuild University of Leuven's library after WWI. What a small world.
I was tempted... but no space in my luggage...
Brussels Cathedral
The Belgian equivalent to Buckingham Palace
Brugge
holding the subs in Brugge
Chocolaton
more Brugge loveliness
Architectural talk: love those thingies....
This is Spa. It's a real place in this planet. Yes, there are spas in Spa.
"The hills are alive..."
more beauty in Brugges
Spa from above
Excuse me for spamming you with photos, but words sometimes don't make the place justice.
6. Then we go to Spa, world famous for its waters... which taste like drinking rain water that has been sitting on a rusty old radiator for 20 years. I'm sure it's great for you, with all those minerals (there was an orange built-up residue on the basin where the water was running.... EWW), but you won't catch me drinking that stuff. Sorry, I'll take English tap water any day over that--hell, I'll even take American tap water over that stuff.
7. But the best part was...
Definitely spending time with my favourite Belgian in the whole wide world, eating cheap pizza, drinking unpleasant beer (disclaimer: I am not a beer person. I am sure the beer was great, by normal people standards, but to me it just tastes like what I imagine pee to taste), and watching the Great British Bake Off (we are the best GBBO commentators).
She's going to hate me for posting this...
After four wonderful days, I hopped on a train to Paris-- more to come soon!!
June--what a fantastic month it was! Sorry I have been away for so long, but it was just the busiest month yet for the Mexican Geordie: socialite, Queen of the Party, Duchess of Procrastination.
What say you--shall we make a list?????
1. THE WORLD CUP, SIRS!
It's the month, every four years, when I turn into a TV junkie, paint my face, go on a shopping spree on Ebay only to end up in debt and with a bunch of football jerseys, get yet another World Cup ball, and go over my allowance of bad words (the confessional is waiting for me, but I don't know if I should just wait until the whole tournament is over).
The emotions running high, especially when one's team is playing. AH! Dear reader, shall I speak to you of my utter grief, of the pain in my heart, of the innermost turmoil stirring in my soul?
Mexico is out of the World Cup.
And it was not even fair, either. The dream was brutally stolen from us by a bald, Dutch thief. Robben, the son of the devil, the man who is so bad an actor he could totally be part of a Mexican soap opera. But really, the referee is the one to blame--may God forgive him, because I know I can't. It was all going so well, reader... We beat Cameroon despite awful refereeing, we managed to keep Brasil at bay, and we murdered those cocky Croatians (figuratively... it's not like we brought our drug cartels along).
World: this is our coach, Miguel "The Louse" Herrera. He is a disgrace to our country. But he is a great coach and his gifs are brilliant.
Then came The Netherlands. Mexico was dominating, winning, and I was searching religious orders because I, in an attack of excitement, bowed that I would become a nun if Mexico won. Then everything changed in the last 10 minutes of the game. I guess God doesn't want me for the religious life.
Then it was all over. My spirit was broken. My heart was numbed. I had to watch this game in mute and being completely silent because I was watching in the adjacent room to the church while mass was being celebrated. So I had to keep it all in. I imploded.
Do I care who wins anymore? As long as it's not the Thieverlands, I'm fine. Go on world, keep spinning without me. I am dead inside. I have no dreams and hopes anymore. And don't tell me, reader, that there's always a next time. Because I've been watching the World Cup since 1994 and have always had to hear those words. For twenty years. I suppose somethings are just not meant to be. I will have to be satisfied with our U-17 championships, our beautiful beaches, and our delicious food. You can't have it all.
2. Castle Day!
A day to basically drink until you drop. But you know me, I don't do that stuff... mainly because I'm too poor to become an alcoholic. So I spent the day playing Jenga, looking at posh people around the Castle, and errr.... I don't even remember what else. We left pretty early. OH YEAH---FOOD.
3. Sports Day.
So basically there was a day-long footie tournament. We played well and reached the semifinals, only to lost against the devil's own Trevelyan College. They have a player who plays for the university's team and she is VICIOUS ( I can think of a better word to describe her, but I know my mother will be reading this). And the worst part is that we have the same name. DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMITTTTTT!!!!! That punk is disgracing the most beautiful name on earth with her Robben-like acting and her Neymaresque antics. AND WE LOST AGAINST HER--errrr---them.
Note: as you can see, there will be a lot of bitterness in this post. I don't care. Sue me. I DON'T CARE, SHUT IT, I DO WHAT I WANT, TAKE THAT, SOCIETY!
4. CATHSOC BALL!!!!!
The most anticipated Catholic Society event of the year. E'rrybody looking fly, you wouldn't know where to look--- beauty, beauty, beauty (and then all the other people besides me). It was a magical night where we all finally got to see each other dress up and feel awkward. There was good food, a couple happy drunks, and a dance-off----THAT'S RIGHT, A DANCE-OFF!!!!
We were having too much fun, indeed. The hotel that was hosting our party kicked us out an hour early because we were just too loud. There's no party like a catholic party.
Everyone looked so gorgeous/handsome and it was truly special. I am so happy I got to fancy-party with you, my loves! I will leave you with our glamorous Oscar selfie:
5. Ceilidh til you drop
I went to an awesome ceilidh (it's that British folk dancing thingy I like to do) and I sweated so much I didn't really need a bath afterwards (T.M.I.). My dance partners included a turbaned man, a heavy metal guy with a demon on his shirt and dreadlocks, and a tall girl. Raja spun me so much my brain was liquified and came out of my pores along with sweat (too much T.M.I.), which might be why I am unable to write my dissertation.
Didn't get to do the "gypsy meltdown" with anyone, but it was still a good dance!
6. Cathsoc BBQ!
WOOHOOO, MEAT, MEAT, MEAT--and there was food too (LOL, this is me trying really hard to make you laugh, but when I started writing "meat" I actually did mean "beef"... cheap shot).
I helped our legendary chef Marta (who will never see this as she utterly refuses to read my blog) to make some delish burgers---ah, you know, my one true talent is burger-making and I am called to feed the masses and give them a glimpse of heavenly happiness with each bite of their burger. You're welcome, world.
Another day of fun and food and awesomeness. We cooked, we ate, we talked, we played a little football, someone got hit with the football on a very sensitive area, we laughed a lot, we ate some more, we had tea, we watched the Chronicles of Narnia (I didn't cry. Of course I didn't. Why would ask that? I cried).
LUCY, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
7. Austen day!!
That's right---could you doubt it? Of course I was bound to eventually have a whole day dedicated to Jane Austen if I'm living in England! DUH. Well, it wasn't a whole day.... a busy person has things to do... but it was most of the day. We watched the classic of classics: BBC's Pride and Prejudice, starring Jennifer Ehle and Fitzwillian Darcy, also known to mortals as Colin Firth. This was the first time I was watching this with a bunch of girls--I usually watch it alone for fear of rejection. But, at last, people who understood me!!!
This was me watching Mr. Collins' proposal. Not sure if laughing or crying (or both).
And we all got to drool over Darcy. Someone other than me exclaimed DAAAAAAAAAAYUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMM, and mind you, everyone else in the room was British, so funny indeed.
OMIGOD STOP, STAAWWP THAT.
More importantly, I realised that even if I like to believe I am Elizabeth Bennet, I am just Lydia. Yeah.... I'm pretty sure: melodramatic, loud, rebellious, with no sense of political correctness, and in love with all of the officers. Luckily, with some moral principles over here, or else I would probably have a divorce from my very own Wickham and three children by now.
Seriously? I'm pretty sure Jane Austen would have hated me.
8. JUNE BALL
JUNE BALL
JUNE BALL
Yes, I have to say it three times. It's that important. It is the absolutely finest social event of the year. And I was there. I won't have food for a month, but I was there. A white tie event, June Ball is my college's summer event and probably the fanciest thing I will ever attend. A three-course meal that lasted three hours and had fancy in-betweeners like raspberry sorbet (what we call "nieve de garrafa" in my rancho). The portions were so small, though, I thought I was going to cry. Luckily, they gave us other types of food throughout the night: crepes, fancy cheese and tarts, sushi, etc.
I danced until one of my feet fell off and I had to go to the hospital and have it stitched back to my leg. Just kidding. Sometimes I take figurative language too far.
But keep in mind the party lasted ALL NIGHT LONG. I didn't get home until 6:30 a.m. on the next day. Arcade games. Dancing. Eating. Dancing. Walking arou--Eating. Dancing. Listening to talented musicians. SILENT DISCO INSIDE A NORMAN CHAPEL DECLARED AS A WORLD HERITAGE SITE BY UNESCO. That happened, you guys. That happened. Don't believe me? See it for yourselves:
Myself, Bhanu, and Elizabeth partying it up in the Norman Chapel. It felt so wrong, it felt so right.
There was also a band called Truly Medley Deeply and no, they didn't just do Savage Garden covers.
So semi-famous and super awesome, these guys. They made it easy to dance. IN OTHER WORDS, PARTY OF THE CENTURY. It was above and beyond. What a night--- even if I got super ultra sick.
Oh yeah, my body decided to give up on life halfway through the party. At first I thought I had food poisoning, but after having awful fever/sore throat/runny nose/stomachache the next day, I figured I just had a stomach virus. I might have been hallucinating at some point on Wednesday (the day after the ball).
9. I got a job!!!
That's right. Nailed the interview and got a position for one WHOLE week working in retail, selling university merchandise. Ah! One forgets how much one hates retail until one comes back to it again. Let me write it across my forehead as to never forget: DON'T TAKE RETAIL JOBS. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't a bad job and my bosses were very sweet. But I just don't appreciate being standing up for hours and feeling like you have to be doing something at all times.
Today, on my last day, we had a customer who went batshit crazy over our credit card machine not working because the wifi was spotty because there was a huge storm. Big deal. The lady had cash. She paid with cash. But how dare WE not have good internet connection? The funniest part was that everyone working was so utterly appalled at this lady's behavior and were just scared of how angry she got. Clearly, none of these people had ever worked one day in the ghetto. Burger Boy, thanks for giving me a thicker skin!
Anyway, the job is done, and it doesn't seem like a good idea to try to work again. There will be plenty of time for that slavery the rest of my life.
10. Last Cathsoc Night ever.
Well, last thing I wanted was to end this up on a sad note, but unfortunately the blues has been playing on repeat lately. My dear, dear friends have one by one returned home for the summer, and we had our last Cathsoc Night together and it was (particularly for me) a very emotilonal one (I was also feverish---it was the day after June Ball).
To know that I won't be hearing Anna's laughter, witnessing Tom's craziness, talking to Roisin about football, seeing Clare sitting behind me when I turn to give her the sign of peace, hearing Marta and Michael singing from the balcony of the church or Elena reading from the pulpit on Sunday; and to know that I won't have the joy of seeing all of your sweet faces--Erin, Anna K., Philippa, Toni-- on a regular basis breaks my heart. But life must go on. And you guys leave me with the best and most beautiful memories that I could ask for! I know in my heart that this is not the end, that we will see each other again. Until then, I will see you in the Eucharist! Thank God my Belgian will still be around ^_^
So, that was my month of June. Can't complain much, can I?
