A Disappointing Walk

I just got in from my walk about the NW part of Calgary. Don't ask me why, but 1/2 way through my walk, I started to think of relationships... about marriage specifically. I started thinking about how not-genuine people get married.

Recently, a former friend, current aquaintance of mine, got married. I was on his facebook looking at photos, and feeling happy for him, cuz he's a good guy. At the same time, I started thinking back to others that I knew in college, who also have recently been married but were never loyal to their significant others. That shit disappoints me, but more-so, angers me.

I started walking faster, like tougher though, as if I was going to punch someone. All feminine aspects (not that there is that many, so I've been told) of me vanished, and I was now walking like a man, baggy sweat pants and Jack hat pulled low over my face.... with a sence of purpose as if I was ready to beat the shit out of someone. Must've been a sight to see from the cars driving by.

Then I thought about people closer to me that I know, and situations that I've been in myself. I try to avoid it hard as I may, but I have in fact been the cheat-ee. And that is one thing I cannot stand... I am a lot of things, but a homewrecker I am not. So why is it that when I'm with a guy who is involved... he makes the move and continues going? Why am I the naive one that assumes he's not currently involved only to be rudely informed of the opposite afterward? Why is it that when someone who dating another person tells me "stop me if this is not okay" while full out knowing that it's not okay, cuz he's the one cheating! As if I'm supposed to interigate everyone all the time as to whether they're "involved" so as not to feel like shit afterwards.

And so I walked, home, turning my hands into fists and wishing my punching bag was in Calgary rather than Hamilton. But who am I really mad at? There is so many of these, I don't want to generalize, but guys! I know so many people that would cheat if only given the chance. And I don't think that's okay at all. And I'm not even the one dating. Once I start, I might really need to ship that bag this way!

Time Travellers Wife

Seriously, I think you might just have to see this stupid movie to understand what my rant is about... but for real people? This movie was so stupidly made, it made me lose respect for that cute actress chick... if you wanna see a good movie about time travel... go rent The Lake House. That one at least made sence!

Now for those who have seen the movie, a couple of things I'd like you to ponder.
-if a fetus travels, where does it go? Does it just end up in some forest or in the middle of some street somewhere? cuz that's kinda gross
-I mean it doesn't just time travel into someone elses whom does it? cuz that would be kinda disturbing
-I guess if if could travel to the whom of some chick who's already pregnant, that would make sence... also would give another explanation to the whole "twins with two different fathers" thing that I still can't wrap my head around.
Really, all I'm trying to say, is that a fetus shouldn't be able to travel. Nor should people who are dead, that would be just as disturbing a concept.

Second issue I'd like to bring up, is that if you were a guy that was in love/married to the chick of your dreams, you might as well travel back in time or forward in time or whatever.... and have a three-some... with yourself...
Yah, also kinda distubing, but if your wife is sneaking out of your house to have sex with a younger you... might as well just have a little bit of fun. On the radio I heard that that's one of the things you should definetly try sexually once in your life, so why not, right?

Overall, the movie was hard to follow and really not impressive, and I am not impressed, but maybe that's just because I'm trying to quit caffiene and it's really hard (think quitting smoking kinda thing). But yah, if you haven't seen the movie yet, don't bother. It was totally worth the $3 we spent on it! Haha.

A Typical Convo w Grandpa

Grandpa: So, you're here, but I"ve heard you've done some travelling.

B!: Yup, I originally flew into Scotland for my friends wedding, then visited Scotland, Ireland, went on a Greek Island cruise and swung by to visit you fine people.

Grandpa: Swing by is right, I"ll blink and you'll be gone.

B!: Grandpa, you should be happy that I"m here at all... I made en effort to come down and see the baby.

Grandpa: If you were really here to see the baby, you would stayed for 3 weeks, it's not due for another 7 days.

B!: Well one could only hope it comes early grandpa. I originally came for th ewedding, almost a month ago and saved my visit to Polska for the very end.

Grandpa: Some wedding, some friend. You shoulda just spent a month here, you have that obligation to your family.

B!: But grandpa, I don't have an obligation to anyone. This trip is costing me a lot to come visit.

Grandpa: How much?

B!: A lot grandpa, but I wanted to come.

Grandpa: Well then you must be rich then, just throwing money around to come down for a wedding, to wander around Greece.

B!: I"m not righ. I worked hard all summer and thought that I deserved to treat myself to a vacation.

Grandpa: Well, who takes a vacation in the fall? That's what the summer is for!

B!: But I was working all summer grandpa.

Grandpa: Well then that's just stupid doing it that way.

B!: Anyway, I went to a wedding and saw Greece and don't regrett it.

Grandpa: Saw Greece! What's there to see in Greece? I coulda given you some postcards to look at, woulda been cheaper!

B!: You've got to be didding grandpa, there's old ruins to see, and beautiful islands, and I got a tan... you can't get a tan from a postcard.

Grandpa: Yah, that's what you need, is a tan. The sun is going to kill you.

B!: And I made some friends...

Grandpa: People from a boat aren't friends... they're just talking to you cuz they were drunk.

ect. ect.

Fun memory from the Ship

You know those shirts that you see at stores such as SanDiego with the perfect bikini body drawn on an oversized tshirt? They have them for men as well, body builder type shirts. Think aprons with naked chefs, but in tshirt beach body form. Well, that is what I saw a really really cute elderly couple wearing on the ship... both decked out to sit by the pool. It made my day. Aside from my mother I didn't think anyone purchased those!

Castle

I think the 21st century should bring back castles. Think about it, if you had a huge ass castle with super thick walls and cannons and such, no one would think about attacking a "White Castle" the same way they would the White House (mmm, little burgers, white castle). You could always try to comb a castle as well as the White House (even with hardcore security system of not flying overhead... but that could be bypassed). But imaging having someone fly into a castle like they did the twin towers... we'd laugh it off and call him an idiot... cuz no one fuks with a castle... especially a fantastically modern one.

My Mom's Ex is Gay.

Wow, when my mother told me I could stay with her ex-bf, I thought that was a bit awkward, but whatever., he seemed like a nice enough guy. I guess the emo haircut at the age of 60 coulda gave it away if my gay-dar wasn't so unbelievably off. I did realize however, that when I don't personally know a person... I like to snoop... and so when he went out, I looked through his cds and such, coming across gay porn. I guess putting that together with the naked statue of an indian jacking off and the male ass with bday wishes postcard attached to his wall, I shoulda caught on. But no, not I, I shrugged it off thining "to each their own, Sophie wanted to watch gay porn once as a joke, maybe it's the same type of thing".
But when my mother called today saying he had sent her an email telling her we spent the day together, he ased what I thought of him... and I hesitated for a second before asking "hey mom, have you ever considered that maybe, you're ex boyfriend, maybe, kinda, might be gay?", to which my mom said "but he is gay" in such a way that it had been so obvious. Right, My moms ex boyfriend... you didn't consider your mom's ex was gay? WTF! But really, leave it to my mom to fall in love with a gay guy! *sigh* where's Soph and her gay-dar when I need it?

Grandma's house... punishment?

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My Life: A Sob Story.

I picture myself walkin into a room and the "muah, muah, muah" sound effects go off. "AnnaB's life as a sob story" the narrarrator announces. Yup, a series of unfortunate events, as related to AnnaB. I then thought about how I write song lyrics all the time, and I"m surprised they're not all to the tune of the blues...

I got the.... my bag's missing and I'm totally glad I grabbed my white sweater to use as a pillow and I knew that putting my toothbrush back inside was a mistake, but now I stand here freezing outside of the London airport without any luggage.... blues... da na na na na...

I got the... my trip was going too well and so I'm not surprised that something went awall for me to be contemplating even going to visit grandpa or just saying fuk it cuz I feel like someone's laughing about this and I think I deserve to have fun but I"m not right now.... blues..... da na na na na...

Ship Adventures

Part A: We're Arriving at Jim&Cola

I was laughing at myself earlier. The ship makes an announcement as to where w're about to dock. So that the tours could get together ect. ect. But as the announcement is telling us that we are approaching our next destination... the words get all slurred together, and all I hear is "last call for alcohol". Hahaha, I guess me buying that drinking package aboard the ship did get the best of me. I know I'm not the first, but the party people haven't shown themselves yet.

Part B: Always a Trouble Maker

I'm wondering if I"m going to get my ass kicked today. I stayed up late witha boy, having drinks and innocent conversation about life and such. But as you have it, or as it always seems to happen with me, he is married, and his wife doesn't "get" me.

Part C: Priorities.

I'm sitting by the poolside with the girls. THey're reading magazines and I'm updating with a cocktail in my hand. Life is grand. We're leaving the island of Rhodes in Greece. REally nice place where the "old city" was actually a Midevil Village, so it was super different. We drank a lot last night, as Contiki took us out for free cocktails before dinner, and everyone took advantage of it. I'm not gonna say I regrett it or anything, but this morning sure did suck when I went out on our tour of Lindos and the ruins and stuff. Actually, I was falling asleep on the bus, even though I was trying super hard to listen, but things looked up o nce I drank me a redbull (I love redbull!).

Part D: I'm Known.

I sit by the outdoor bar, sipping my delicious cocktail of the day (gin, who woulda thunk it), watching as we 'sail' into the sunset. Then as I was running through the whole ship (5 decks, and aft to forward) to get a black shirt for a shillouette photo sesh, I was called Cinderella by my friends the bar staff. I had left my shoes on deck in a bit of a hurry not to miss it. Then, I bumped into Thelma & Louise, on their way to dinner and cocktails with the captain (I get to do the same in a few hours) who said they would try their hardest to make it to the disco tonight. They're the ones that first told me of set disco, and low and behold, I've been drinking and dancing for the last 2 nights in anticipation of them joining me, but no show!

Athens Part 2

Okay, so when I planned to go to Greece, I didn't realize it was this Greek. Since my fantabulous roommate Sophie doesn't speak the language that I've heard, I almost thought that 50% of people in Greece would be english speaking. The touristy areas, much like in the rest of the world, communicate fine... but wandering through the streets of Athens today, I've decided that I could never live in a country where English isn't their primary language. I want to know what people are yelling about, if they're talking about me, and most importantly, to be able to find my way around, or to be able to ask someone if I can't.

This morning I got the hostel to organize an english speaking tour guide to show me around. I paid him $20 and he showed me all the sites with brief history lesson... a lot of walking, but a good time, and I met some more Canadians and Americans along the way. Many pictures of me and old stuff, and pictures of old stuff being fixed.

Next all I wanted to do was buy a shotglass, and find an internet cafe with a printer before I got back to the hostel. Well 2 hours of wandering later, i realized that not even the young people like to respond to english all the time. Everything is in Greek, therefore making it super hard to find stuff, even with a map, and I can't even pronounce the street names. I keep walking up to people saying "internet" and making the typing motion. But when I got super frustrated (as Dane Cook says, I was ready to "punch a baby") I did the only thing I could... I went to McD's and got a McFlurry... I asked for m&m, the chick offered me smarties, I agreed, got m&m anyway... with chocolate fudge (odd)... and then I asked her for an internet cafe and she suggested an espresso. I asked a billion people, including hotels, hostels and policemen... and am now back at my hostel with no clue on where to go, and needing to print out my boarding pass. You'd think it wasn't that hard a thing to find, but haha!

Athens

I'm staying at a hostel where, a few days ago a bomb went off just outdoors.... safe places in Greece I know. Apparently they had some kind of political election of sorts and just before they found out who the new leader or whatever was, there were a bunch of political riots. And haha, one just so happened to be here near the Victoria metro station.

When I got off the metro, upon my first arrival in Athens, I had to walk a few blocks to our posh hotel. The hotel, being very elegant, was in a pretty shady neighbourhood, as things turn out. Now, I didn't even notice, not knowing what to expect from Greece. There were cars honking there horns, sirens going off everywhere, and people waving flags and yelling at the top of their lungs. But hey, being from Canada, I just assumed someone won some sporting event. Everyone was happy with the outcome, so the night I arrived, there were happy riots... Good! The few days before that, hadn't been so pleasant, so I've heard.

And so, now I'm at this hostel with Lauren and Ryan (whom I met onboard the Aquamarine), and they're happy with the hostel location, so as am I. Apparently the windows that were shattered during the bomb have now been repaired and life has gotten pretty much back to normal... But when I hear Lauren mention casually "so when the bomb went off, this and this is what was going on"... or when Ryan curses traffic saying "this street was at least closed off during the political rallies" it kinda gives you some perspective.

And throughout my travels so many people have asked me about Canadian politics. It always starts off fairly simple like "Canada has a Prime Minister right?" stuff that I could answer you know? But then they ask who he is and about how Quebec wants to seperate, and I can't seem to get it across to Europeans that Canadian politics, aren't a big deal. The riots are very doubtful in our country, and not a lot of people know who's leading it. And that's not necessarilly a bad thing. It just means that they're doing a decent job and we really don't need to think twice about it. And then a very shallow comment which I have a way of always adding in there "I mean, we should know who our Prime Minister is, but it's not really that big a deal... it's not like he's black or anything". Ouch, but I believe that to be true.

Things I have lost during my first 11 days of travelling.

LOST/BROKEN:
1. my rings... my hemitite one from the P-Dub, and my "B" ring from Wasaga ages ago... (forgotten at a hostel)
2. my HannahMontana sunglasses (unfortunately got broken in my backpack while being thrown on/off the plane)
3. my clip on watch (when the window part fell off and it started making up times for me)
4. my mp3 player (see bottom sidenote for full story)
5. my traveling spirit (HELP ME OUT HERE GREECE!)

SIDENOTE: "Given up my Joy"

Prefix: Sophie said once ... (haha, "a wise man once said") that the girls we know, set themselves up for disappointment with boys, always going after the ones that are bad for them. I think I set myself up also... for life.

Kinda related story: Two 5 year olds on the big bus (think England) yesterday, were looking out the window at the people at the busstop below. They started laughing suddenly because they saw that someone had forgotten their jacket as they got on. They told grandma and she responded "I hope nobody takes it". 5 year olds wishful thinking right?

My story in code: I was dancing in the rain, down the street, to my favorite song... when someone approached me and said "nice mp3 player". To this I said "you like it? Here you go" unplugging it and haning it over... then walking in a downpoar and silence. I gave up my joy in that instant.. .music being the object that makes me happy.

What really happened: Today at the airport, the loooong day at teh airport, I found a computer to charge my mp3. Not wanting to sit around, I left it there (like the 5 year olds, "hoping" it would be there when I got back... STUPID)

London England, part 1 & 2

Part 1:
I'm sitting outside Victoria park train station (1:14am) because, get this, they locked the big black iron gates to keep everyone out. The next train is at 2, and I can't even wait at a platform, let alone a coffee shop, because the douchbags just up and locked the gates. I'm probably sitting against a wall that someone pissed on...but I ain't standing, and that's that.

Stevo told me to message him when I got to London and I sent him a FB message but he didn't respond. I wonder what he wanted. I'm sure it was for me to spend 4 hours of precious sleeping time (mind you, I would've been on an airport bench) to travel to downtown London to get drunk off a double JD&coke. Good. That's exactly what I did... for him! And unsuccessfully tried to find him a postcard. At hease my buzz'd hase makes this sitting on the ground in front of a downtown train station comical. Had my flask been full... we coulda started a party!

Part2:
I'm fuken dense and I missed my goddam flight. Deep breath, I've found my luggage, rebooked my flight, and called to let the Contiki coordinator know that I will meet up with them late... anything else to do? Find directions to the hotel in Athens... I'm fuken retarded... some vacations... I gotta write a song (see facebook notes section).

BITCH-FEST:
Wow, I hate travelling when I'm miserable. Actually, I hate living as a whole when I'm misterable. Everyone is subjected to a look that could kill. My responses to questions are blunt and unpleasent to say the least... and I exude hate. I am totally a lot cooler when I'm happy!

Getting excited.

How long before an event is an appropriate time to get excited for it? Everyone asks me, "Oh, you're doing this... are you excited?"... and I rarely ever am.
I wasn't too excited to fly down to Europe.. Even as the plane touched down, I was all "I'm going to see my friend get married in Scotland!... but that's tomorrow". and I'm so happy for it and glad I'm here... but I'm only excited AS things are happening.

Now, I sit at the airport waiting on a flight to LONDON after which I'm going to GREECE for a 5 DAY CRUISE. And I'm happy that I'm doing it. I hope it'll be a good time... but I'm as not "excited" as I think I should be for it.

Maybe the last time I traveled to Europe, opened up my eyes to all the things that could go wrong on trips such as mine. And although I don't think in a "worst case scenario" fashion - maybe I just acknowledge that things won't necessarily go as smoothly as I'd like. So I'm happy with things: AS THEY HAPPEN!

Waiting to fly... Dublin

Last time I flew (2 days ago) I was walking out oto grab my luggage and eavesdropping on the couple (older) walking in front of me (I do love those Scotish accents). They were having this discussion about how much fun it was having destinations close to you. "Sometimes we fly into Dublin for a scotch" he was saying.
These 3 boys getting of the plane in a casual stoll , reminded me of that conversation. They got off with no carry-ons, just walking about witht he clothes on their backs. Probably to hang out for the night.
I would love it if a flight from Canada to the US cost the $20 each way that the flights with RyanAir in Europe do. Get me to Seattle to go see a movie with Phil... or to Vancouver to go for lunch with Matt.Dorn... fly to Whistler or Jasper for a skiing weekend. Cheaper than driving. I'm so jealous!

Dublin, Ireland

Ireland really did catch me at a bad time. The sun hasn't been shining (surprise, surprise) so that doesn't make anything easier - but on top of that, the hostel switch and a bad day spent in Dublin has made it difficult to meet people. I'm gonna force myself to go out and wander some more, as I leave later today to spend nearly 20 hours at the airport/on planes, be4fore I get to Greece tomorrow afternoon. But my legs have not gotten much better than yesterday, and I don't have any advil to swallow, so I gotta truly suck it up and keep on truckin.

SIDENOTE: I'm anti this whole hostel thing of "do your own dishes". I pay money to stay here after all. The rooms are cramped and the showers are communal and if you provide me breakfast you should provide me with someone to do my dishes between 7-9am. The exception being if I cook on my own time and I mess it up, then it's fair game, but still.

Yesterday was a fun night. After waking up and going for a walk to find an energy drink (leave it to me to end up in the Polish area of Dublin), and an internet cafe, I returned to the hostel and went down to the cellar (cooler than it sounds). There I found a group of 8-10 people from various parts of the world, and with the accompaniment of an accordion, harmonica and an acoustic guitar, they sang songs from all over in a drunken slur, at the top of their lungs.
-A black guy originally from Holland,
-a short kid with a funky hat, named Will (the boy not the hat)
-a deep voiced guy from Austria, I believe
-boy who pretended to be Borat, from... somewhere around here.
-and a fairly good looking guy as the accordion player.
-then there was Matt, and 18 year old from California
-his friend Andrea from Quebec,
-and some girls from France and Turkey
They belted out songs, improvising and havin g fun with them "Her eyes they shone like the mountains..." an Irish rebellion song, as well as The Doors,a nd various others. The best nights are truly never documented.

The Scotish vs The Irish

Before I left Canada for my trip to Scotland for my friends wedding, someone asked me if I would do any travelling while I was down here. I was like "of course... I hear good things about Scotland, like... and... ugh...". Then I was asked what the difference between Scotish and Irish people was, also starting a debate about whether Scotish and Irish were languages or not! (Yah, Canadian people, a bit self absorbed and not the brightest of them all). After arguing that you can't just add an "ish" to a word and call it a language, I googled that people in both countries actually speak Gaelic, but not so much so anymore... and with that, I booked a detour on my travels to Ireland along with Scotland to settle this for myself.

The ultimate question: Who are bigger drinkers, the Scotish or the Irish? & what are the differences?
Answer: After doing a pub crawl in Scotland, I've decided that the Australians, the Americans, the German and the French, as well as I, are all decent enough drinkers. As far as the Scotish are concerned... they hold their own pretty well... but all admit that the Irish are more hardcore. After hanging out in Ireland (once again with a bunch of tourists as it turns out), I could only base my judgements on what people tell me: the Irish are more hardcore.

The differences: The Scotish have fuken wicked accents and wear kilts for special occasions. Umm, the Irish have the whole green thing going on, and the rights to St. Paddy's day... they also have fuken amazing accents.

But most importantly, I learned that people in both countries 1. are amazingly nice and make me want to move/stay here, and 2. they both have a subtle dislike towards the English (mostly because of their football competitions, which England more often than not, wins).

totally slacking.

I'm totally slacking with this Europe blogging... seriously, I just never have a computer for long enough, and when I do, i feel like time would be wasted typing instead of exploring, but...

random thought for today... if you have a statue of yourself on a huge intersection in downtown Dublin, Ireland, where everyone could see you as they walk by... and a street named after you... and a bridge.... don't you think that somewhere there should be a PLAQUE or something letting everyone know why you're the shit? This Mr. O'Connell character... not such a big deal if I don't know what he did.

a plaque doesn't cost too much, does it? Just a thought!