8 (More) Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me

We're tackling more knowledge today!

This knowledge is like your own personal summary of me. Education without homework? Get on my level. Consider this the SparkNotes of our friendship. We're talking facts--fun facts--sorta like these.

Because we're about to dive into real talk, and that's no place for strangers to go. Kapeesh?

8 (More) Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me

1) Travel tells it like it is. If we travel well together, we get along well too. We're like peanut butter & jelly--complementary and going places in this world.

2) I have an unconventional love of oatmeal. And I'm totally okay with it.

3) I'm rarely rattled or visibly upset. If I am upset, you probably won't know it.  Unless you know me insanely well, in which case you'll know that I'm upset before I do.

4) I often forgot that I have long legs, even though people comment on it all the time. Sometimes, when I see a picture of myself and realize this, I'll catch myself thinking, "HOT DANG, I'M ACTUALLY AN ALIEN."

5) Nearly every pair of tights I own is ripped in the jankiest of places. Confessions of a constant do-er with reckless abandon for pants.  It suits me.

6) I somehow ended up as a finalist in a Pillsbury Baking Contest when I was 11. Cake and I are homies that go way back.

7) The chances of a hippopotamus flying are better than the chances of me having an umbrella when it's raining. Think I'm kidding? I once arrived dripping wet for a formal interview because of this. On the bright side, I got the job.

8) I love hiking. And once given the free rein to wander, you better believe I want to go to the top.

From Paris to Oktoberfest

Today, we're going to do things a little bit backwards. We're going to talk about Dublin tomorrow. Because we can. Power to the people! On tap today: adventures in Paris and at Oktoberfest. Holy toledo, you might need to stand up for this one.

I met A--among the best of friends from Google--outside of the train station  in Paris late on Thursday evening. Epics hugs were exchanged, and tears of joy may or may not have been present. A quick stop at A's host family's palace apartment and then serious business!

Also known as takeout sushi. Which included getting drenched in a Parisian downpour and not caring one dang bit. There was talk of going out on the town, but you know what? Wine, cheese, chocolate, and 6 hours of life talk are pretty tall, dark and handsome. That's real life.

We also ended up vid-chatting with four other bomb.com friends from Google. These people are what may only be described as "the freaking tits," and I didn't even realize myself how much I've missed talking to them. We're an indescribable bunch all doing crazy different things, but it just works. No explanation necessary because well, tits man who has time for that? Sometime around 3:30 a.m.,  A and I smushed into her twin bed and returned to talk between two. I fell asleep smiling. Happy, so so happy.

Friday, 7 a.m.: Alarms go off in unison. This kid is headed to Munich for Oktoberfest to meet H, my roommate and best friend at Georgetown. A is London-bound to meet friends. We hug it out like its an Olympic sport. Technique is major (and impeccable).

Around noontime, I wind my way through the Munich airport before spotting a bright, blue sweater and tortoise shell glasses that could only belong to H. Hug-a-thon resumes. Olympic gold medals are a veritable DUH at this point.

H and I head straight to city center talking a bajillion miles per minutes while in search of food. We find Thai curry, or rather, curry finds us. And it's game over. Curry......what? It's cool; go with it. Exploring continues. Munich in Oktober has got it going on. It's vibrant. It's special. It's the kind of place where beer trumps all else, and who's going to argue with logic like that?

I should also mention it's bonkers beautiful.

We hopped on an off the spectacularly efficient D-Bahn (German train), going with spontaneity as our tour guide. We found nature! Or, I mean, something like that. Decided that life is a garden. And we dig it.

Statuesque buildings and blue sky peek-a-boos. Buildings here are no wimpy business. Neither are the Germans, apparently.

Churches richly hued with gold and so #casual you had to make sure it wasn't just painted there. And casually accompanied by a mobile library because reading is all sorts of jazzy on a crisp outside afternoon.

Somewhere along the way, we stumbled through a giant square with bean bags and hammocks plopped everywhere. Because nap time is a real life thing. America, get with the program. Please & thank you. 

And finally, we found humanity at its finest. A spectacle of tomfoolery that looks like an adult version of Disneyland. Where OUT OF ORDER is the only order and logical reason is no good reason at all.

Welcome to Oktoberfest. Stay a little while, why don't you?

{to be continued}

~lexi

It's Nice to Meet You, Europe

{Note: Meant to post this Thursday, but janky transit wifi was not having it. Formatting is also a tad unsightly. Apologies, real talk coming soon!}

I kind of have a thing with Thursdays. 10 am call time feels like a treat after two days of 8am classes. Thursday means a class at the university on French workplace, the sweet gent who bought me a coffee, and an Argentinian tango class.

You heard me.

I'm on a train to Paris now--my first ever and the inaugural ride of the semester. Nantes today, Paris tonight with Google friend A, and Munich tomorrow for Oktoberfest with the darling roommate, H.

I'm in my happy place. The one filled with ripped tights, Teaseville USA, joyous reunions soon to come, and the gripping wanderlust that just reached over to hold my hand.

We're going places, you and me. Warm Bavarian pretzels? You got it. A liter of lager? There shouldn't even be a question mark there. You, me, & a world to see?

Well darling, I thought that was a given.

~lexi

Deuces, Dublin

"So did you have a 'beery' nice weekend?"

These are the kinds of texts that you receive from Momma J after a weekend in Dublin. Punnyness is apparently all sorts of contagious. Whoa nelly, we're talking science!

This past weekend traveling to Dublin was like life's version of a giant thumbs up. 12 kooky students; Guinness; Trinity college; fish and chips; coats & a lack there of; GREEN; irish soda bread; hostel shenanigans; and an endless quest for water beer.

Is it story time? Surely it is.

But since Monday is officially shaking its fist at my face, we're going to save deets for tomorrow. Like how friend, K, almost found herself with a marriage proposal and 64 cows.

Moooooooooooo-re on that tomorrow.

En Masse

This past Sunday morning started with me thanking the world for creating comfy beds. Espresso and figs followed suit, naturally.

Over breakfast, my host mom & dad asked what I was planning to do for the day. I responded with a "je ne sais encore" {i don't know yet} and returned the question. They replied that they were going to Sunday Mass and then asked if I wanted to come. I responded with a hesitant, smiling maybe.

30 minutes later, I was on my way to one of the few religious gatherings I've ever attended in my life. Simply out of curiosity. While Georgetown is a jesuit school, I make no secret of the fact that I'm not devoutly religious, much less Catholic. I've attended mass twice before -- once at a jesuit leadership conference last summer with B and once to see a friend sing at a Georgetown service.

But yo dudes / dudettes, I quite enjoyed it. I liked hearing the sweet harmony of the hymns; I liked watching the little girl in front of me contentedly draw herself as a princess in a castle; and most of all, I liked the feeling of togetherness.

It was simple. There is something blatantly beautiful about seeing people come together for a communal purpose. It feels radically different from the individual-emphasized American culture to which I'm accustomed, with holidays and tragedies as the only cultural exceptions.

I didn't understand catch much of the all-in-French sermon, save for a word that was repeated at least 10 times and sounded a whole lot like "gazpacho." Or was it gelato? I digress. In normal space cadet fashion, I almost kissed the guy next to me smack dab on the lips during blessings pecked on each cheek. I cursed under my breath; he blessed me anyway. Thank heavens?

At the end of the day, I didn't call myself any more religious. Or any more Catholic. But rather, I'd say I was just a little more appreciative of the window into a different sort of life. A life where the music flows sweet, steady, and perhaps best of all,

en masse. 

~lexi

Summer Adieu

This is how you convince yourself that summer isn't ending. By wearing shorts on a pleasantly warm Saturday night and walking barefoot to the river to do homework. By choosing blissful ignorance, when all of Nantes stares like you're walking the streets nude. Though perhaps that would seem more normal. This is how you feel Fall coming, even while the warm memories of summer linger slow and sweet.

~lexi