Thursday, October 24, 2013

If we had blogs in 1998: What’s the French word for “hangover?”


And here we are with a night of too much beer in Strasbourg, France.

As always, spelling, grammatical, factual, and emotional errors have been preserved from the original journal. Today’s comments are in red.

29 Mars 1998

What a weekend. Strasbourg has to be one of my favorite cities in Europe. It’s the best of German France. Known as Alsace-Lorraine to the educated among us. La Petite France. Great company. We went to visit Andrea’s host brother Akky (spelling?) He goes to University of Strasbourg. Friday we got there about 5pm. We picked up Seck (still can’t figure out his name.) and went to a restaurant/bar where we ate flamkooke which is really a thin pizza type thing & is excellent. Drank some beer. Then we went to a birthday party – Jacques & Matthew, I believe. It was pretty crazy. I only recall bits and pieces. Lots of beer. Losing a chugging race. Putting U2 New Year’s Day On. Then having Pogues and Ash. Not mentioned – the host getting mad at me for changing the music. Claude. Can’t believe that one. making out with strangers I can’t believe Andrea & Matt found out. I’m embarrassed. I don’t remember smoking, as Andrea later informed me I was doing. I do remember tequilla. I remember meeting Olivia, who was all over Andrea. Quite strange. I remember the guy who looked like Scott Anthony, though I don’t know his name. I remember the gnome and the big kinder eggs and the answering machine present, which was a great idea. It was a garden gnome – someone had given it to one of the guys as a birthday present. I think it was some kind of joke. I still remember the gnome. I passed out as soon as Andrea made my bed for me. I don’t remember that.

Next day, walking around Strasbourg. Felt like shit. It’s a great city, it really is. I wish I could have enjoyed it more. I almost puked and passed out, while walking around, after we visited the cathedral. excessive misuse of commas in that sentence The cathedral was amazing. It had this awesome clock inside. I didn’t like the skeleton at that top, though. That was creepy. But I felt sick even before we walked up and down the 330 steeps in the spiral staircase. The view was worth it. Perhaps the building that stood out the most was the European Parliament building. It looked like something from space. After we climbed down, that was when the sickness was at its peak. Andrea got me some water from the Haagen Daas store. I wish I could have had ice cream. Bailey’s. Anyway, after that I felt ok. We bought postcards and saw an anti-Front Nationale demonstration. Front National is the rightwing, racist, extremist party of France. Think Tea Party with better food. Then we walked to La Petite France. It was an incredible day – warm, sunny, all the things you could ask of a spring day. I tied my fleece around my waist, leaving nothing but a mere t-shirt to block the spring air from my body. We got bratwursts. We had coffee at a café in a square on the terrace with a fire juggler as entertainment. I had Coke, but I didn’t drink it. I was doing the withdrawal shivering thing in response to the alcohol finally leaving my blood stream. Claude was there. I didn’t look at him. Mostly because I felt inferior. I didn’t want him to be like what the hell was he doing. I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings. I wish I would have talked to him. We looked at CDs. We shopped for wine and cheese. I bought Tropicana Pure Premium. It made me feel better, but then we walked around forever. But it was a great day. We ate French fries at akky’s. Lots. Then everyone came over for wine and cheese, mostly wine. I had none. Andrea had a bottle and a half. She was flirting with all the guys but denied it. I was bored and tired. But it was funny. I told her how I thought the Matt thing was annoying Friday. I hope she’s not mad. She pretended not to be. I felt drunk Saturday night though I hadn’t touched a drop.

We got up at noon Sunday. I could have slept longer. But now I can’t sleep at all, and it’s one o’clock am. Akky drove us home. Nice change of pace. He’s a really nice guy, very thoughtful and considerate, funny, tidy. I find it difficult to believe those guys were from Luxembourg.


1 April 1998

Actually, it’s 2am on 2 Avril. I’ve been writing my bullshit ITS paper, which actually is just good writing practice. I took care of most of the Ireland arrangements today. I can’t wait. Mostly I can’t wait for the Aran Islands. I hope that works out. Maybe I’ll try to call. I keep flip flopping on whether my EDP story is good or bad. I’ve finally figured out some themes. I hope she doesn’t mind the length. I’ll be turning in over 30 pages, twice what it’s supposed to be. I’ve enjoyed it, mostly. I hope Andrea will go to Paris this weekend. I know Matt won’t go without her, and besides, I don’t want to go with just Matt. It’d be too wierd, too much small talk. I won’t be suprised if it happens, though. I don’t know why I chose to write tonight. I guess I’m just in a writing mood. It sucks that I have to go to bed now.

Things I couldn't spell in college: weird, surprised.

Ahh, college.
 

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