"butterflies with knives."

Venice for the weekend, No Big Deal.

Pardon me while I feel classy. *hair flip*

Venice is pretty much everything a person could expect it to be. I simply can not fathom how such a city would be built in the first place. It's like Disney Land for mature, rich adults and James Bond...

Speaking of which, also, furthermore: Totally found out that the Lagoon is not that deep. So this scene is completely Hollwoodized. Damn you America for deceiving me. Regardless: Daniel Craig, what I would do for you.

Not too much news to tell about the city, except that all men are exceptionally good-looking (probably because they are all models and voguing every second of their existence), and that everyone in Venice likes to wear sunglasses. I would have bought some, but none cost less than 10 euro. So in order to replace the lack of words, here are some (ok, maybe a lot [of]) pictures of my stay in the city, in no particular order:

Ryan Air gives you...candy...with your life jacket?

Be sure to not take your dentures, high heels, and women with you off the plane in case of emergency landing.

MASKS! EVERYWHERE! Besides the typical theater masks, they had animals as well. I really wanted the crocodile, but It was like 2340387424 euro.

So much modeling.

I rode one of those C:

Everything is prettier in black and white.

Patty got in trouble for being scantily clad and had to wear a tablecloth inside of the Church.

The door to our hostel--which was nearly impossible to find, by the way. It happened to be run by backpackers, and the staff is continually switching in and out. Interesting life it would be, to be a nomadic hippy living in hostels for months at a time.

some intersections, corners, and bridges use these mirrors. I thought it was kind of cool. Also: they have traffic lights for boats set in place, but they were never actually used...

There are more pictures, including a few of Saint Marco's Square, the Basilica, and the tower, but blogger is sick and tired of my photo uploading shenanigans. To put in short, nothing could be better than getting lost in one of the most interesting historic cities in Europe, eating gelato twice a day, and gawking at the gorgeous men. I LOVE VENICE! <3

Oh, the woes of growing old.

Well. It had to happen eventually. I need to contact my former employer about summer work, and writing a grownup email is harder than it seems. Becoming an adult wouldn't be a problem if there weren't such high standards for how one should act.

Reason #1: I have been raised to be very...casual. Dinner situations that involve me acting like I was not raised in a cave make me uncomfortable.

Reason #2: I haven't yet gained the interest in adult-like topics. I tend to avoid them, because I simply do not know enough about political policies, the physics behind natural or manmade phenomena, why or why we shouldn't do this, that, or the other. Please, if we are going to have a discussion about a socially relevant issue, give me a week's notice to allow preparation and study time.

Reason #3: The business realm is intimidating. I know not of the correct etiquette, or how to network, or what sort of pay is appropriate for job-X with only experience-A. Is there a formula where I can plug all of my information in, and the correct pay wage pops out? I have no way of telling if my plethora of talents are being exploited by The Man.

Reason #4: Taxes. When the day comes where I have to file them myself, the IRS will be on my arse 5 days later. I know I'll only muck it up.

Sure...all of this may seem irrelevant to my worries about this email I need to finish, but it is hard to sound like an adult when you still feel like a child.

<3

PS: on a happier note, I go to Venice this weekend :) If I ever become an international businesswoman, I will at least have the traveling skills down.

qqq <--click if you dare.

Still haven't done work.

--Too busy pondering life.

So, I kind of want to get rich and famous just off of traveling around the world, taking thousands of pictures, and writing about my experiences. If you know where I can do that, won't you be a good lad and sign me up? Stipulations:

1. It must make me rich.
2. It must make me famous.
3. ...I don't have a third stipulation, but I feel that a 3rd bullet is necessary for proper paragraph proportions.

Kthanks. Going back to procrastinating again.

<3

Ugh, do I really have to write anything?

I have this weird feeling of anxiety brought on by that thing...oh, whatsitcalled...work? Yeah, work.

Wait--what??

Imagine that. I actually have something to do for school. For a grade. Farck. In case you don't know me, I'm lazy. When I have a lot to do, it gets even worse. Needless to say, don't be expecting a lengthy description of Germany any time soon. I have four 4-page papers (single spaced) that are due within a week, and I haven't started. Woops.

And don't even get me started on studio...At least Professor man is making it easy on Nick and I by designing our entire project for us.

...Thanks.

<3

The only time exhaustion felt this good.

I'm blogging about my trip in record timing! You should be proud of me. Send me a reward or something. Preferably in the form of Zaxby's.

So we, roommate and I, begin our adventure early Friday morning by waking up before the sun, running to the bus, and checking in to BCN by 8 am. Go us. I mean, we're practically professionals at international travel by now. Anyways--we get to Geneva. TONS of confusion trying to find out where buy train tickets. Apparently it's common knowledge in Switz that "billetes" is specific to train tickets...in an airport? Sure, fine, I'll go along with it for now. Do as the Romans...

What's that peaking through the clouds? Oh why hello, Swiss Alps!

Geneva-Airport train Station...massive ball of 'WTF are we doing??'

So, we got the tix, thanks to roommate's proficiency in French [cue round of applause]. It was nice to know that her French skills were not all talk--Oh wait, she reads my blog? tee-hee ^.^

It's exciting from there on out. Geneva was an adorable city, it's a shame we could not have stayed an extra day to explore that. But moving on, we gawked at the beautiful landscape for the next four-ish hours on the trains. Yes, plural form.

Hipsters don't laugh, roommate. It's sooo overrated.

We arrived at Interlaken Ost. Because I do that thing where I lose and/or forget things, I didn't have the directions on where to go from there. Luckily, I spotted a travel center nearby, where we then took a number and waited...for .02 seconds. Lucky we were the only persons there...

The handsome young man gave us maps and directions for how to get to our hostel. On the map, it seemed approximately 1,000 miles away, but really it was within walking distance, as we found out later. Bastert. We paid for an unnecessary bus ticket.

Funny sign, though. Barcelona should really have more of these to remind me...

So...the hostel. Yeah, we made it there. Yeah, we slept there. But the experience is overrated, overpriced, misleading in reference to the website, and I refused to honor them by taking any pictures. Balmers Herberge, if I were an official critic, you'd get a scathing review. However, those 6 free minutes of internet were just wonderful! Thanks for being so generous! And those towels that were promised--oh wait....Well, that cheap room I booked--oh, it's not available anymore--AND I still have to pay more to get the next cheapest room? But I booked 2 months in advan--OH fine. Eff you.

After dropping our ish off, we walked around the little village town area. Quaint.

And then we did a night sledding adventure!! I wanted to pee myself the entire time. Roommate loved it though. My fear of the dark, and fear of sliding off the trail did me in. Not for me.

The next morning, we woke up arse early again. While I ran around in a panic trying to figure out how to get to the mountain, and how to bring my all my heavy gear on the trains and buses (turns out, you just wear it. It's a fashion statement there), roommate took the day at a much slower pace. I recommend you look at her blog for to see what she was up to.

What I see upon arrival at the top:

So after one bus ride, 2 trains, and a Gondola, I made it to the top of ONE part of the entire ski resort. I would have needed at least 3 ski days to see it all. So, I had heard from a friend who had been skiing here earlier in the semester that there was a peak which was taller than the point to where the Gondola takes you (Did that sentence make sense?). Apparently he walked all the way to the top and boarded down from there. Well, I can't let him have all the glory--so I did it, too. Wasn't easy...

The goal, from very far away...

Oh, by the way, I paraglided too!

...just kidding. But I saw others do it, and it takes either major guts or a lack of brain cells.

Took a break (or maybe 5).

AT THE TOP!! Look at the town. So adorable.

Proof of purchase. Can't doubt me now.

So whilst skiing, I stopped to take some scenic pictures. It was a good excuse for a break and not feel like a wimp. Seriously though, the hardest thing about the alps was dodging little kids. They come out of nowhere! I just nearly avoided future olympic athletes.

Lunch stop. Expensive, bottom line.

Patty's Snowman

Reindeer/rabbit sign!

I took this picture just for you, parents. I wore my ski jacket like a good girl, not that it was really that cold.

Ski lifts were awesome. Padded, with foot rests, and a wind shield, if desired.

So after tiring myself out, I met up with roommate again. We wandered the town, not that there was much to see. Regardless, I loved it because small ski towns are one of my favorites. However, I have a hunch that roomie was pretty bored...We got some excellent, overpriced takeout for dinner, showered, and laid in bed by 8pm in order to be able to wake up before the sun again the next day, followed by a day of traveling...

On the train before 7am...impressive.

Au revoir Swiss Alps! Maybe I'll see you again one day.

Thank you, Life, for giving me a chance to experience Switzerland. Now, if you could make it a little less expensive for me, I'd love to try it again. I cringe at the thought of checking my bank account...I might have to starve myself for a couple of weeks. We'll see!

<3

PS: I lost a glove. One glove. Just one. HOW DO I KEEP DOING THIS?!?