August musings

I'm back from my blog retreat that I hadn't quite planned. But I opted to stop blogging in protest of P.Dave's absence from the blogworld. Well, he's back! Welcome back! Keep up the good work :)

• Something seemingly awesome, like Pollo Campero in Guatemala, can become the worst idea for a restaurant… ever. At least it becomes a bad idea when you eat there for the third time in 5 days.
• Watch this video. With your speakers on. That isn't actually Lauren screaming. (It's me...)
  
• It's pretty incredible what latins can accomplish with percussion, a couple of xylophones, percussion, some kind of horn instrument, and well... percussion. I wish I'd recorded more.
  
• Camping in Orlando, FL in the middle of August takes more grace and composure than I have. I spent much time lounging in the bathroom; it was the only air-conditioned space for miles...
• Retreats are funny. Zeal's retreat (August 8-11) was very funny. What's even funnier is that I hid 3 cans of sardines they were going to try and make us eat in a relay competition. I didn't remember that I left them hidden until a week after we got back. I made one racoon very happy, or nauseous... or both.
• Islands of Adventure can seem like the usual suspect when you get there. But there aren't words for how much I liked Spiderman, Hulk, and the dueling dragons. Oh! and how could I forget the talking fountain. That thing is amazing. How does it know???
• Nothing really happens when you turn 23 (click for pictures of that weekend- a What's Cookin party and a trip to Fairchild Tropical Gardens- both were WONDERFUL). I thought turning 23 might be exciting, or instill wisdom, or demand respect. But when I was 22, about 10 days ago, things were almost exactly the same. Wait, no, things were exactly the same- except for the fact that I was 22 then. Oh, to be that young again…
• I don’t belong in the Miami club scene. Or any club scene (nor club) for that matter. Well, maybe Key Club, or Mathletes or something. Anyway, for Rey’s 25th birthday, the gang (not actually a gang, by the way) opted to meet at a club in downtown. As some already knew, many found out, and everyone could have figured… it was my first time ever going to a club (*I went to a club in Germany when I was a teen but I don’t really count that). I don’t remember being so frazzled, at least not since finals week. I had to actually stop running errands and doing things so I could just relax and not hyperventilate. I just felt so out of my element, getting ready to even go to the club. And with good reason. Before I ever even got in the car to go to the club, I rushed out the door to get something out of my car. I actually ran into my lamppost with the right side of my head/forehead. The sheer velocity threw me into my open car door, slashing my jaw on the open car door. The swelling and blood almost made me want to pass out, not to mention the actual PAIN which this kamikaze incident caused… but I insisted that we press on. I didn’t even get medicine or anything from my house. We went to the grocery store, where I bought ointment and a bag of frozen peas.
• It’s amazing how much your friends can laugh at you when you’re bleeding. Yes, bleeding. Or maybe it’s just my friends. Apparently my crying/laughing fits while driving and holding a bag of frozen produce to my face was hilarious. This was not only humiliating, but also helped to lighten the whole ‘broken, bleeding face’ situation as we headed off to the club, where I was now CERTAIN to stand out. There are precious few pictures that aren't too awful (you only see the gash a little bit)


• Steak & Shake has ridiculously large tables. That may seem to you like an odd observation. But check it out if you ever go. They’re unnerving. Like the stairs that are just one inch steeper than average. Once I got my shake though, all order was restored.
• I love bowls. It's pretty rampant actually, the amount of bowls I have. I can tell you where (or who) each bowl is from. My latest one was given to me for my birthday. I was so excited to use it last week when I made tacos. It's red. I heart it.
• Germans take their you and you formal seriously. Just like you have tu and Usted in spanish. Only in German, two people can work together for years and still refer to each other as Sie (you formal) instead of du (you informal). Take my new German professor for example. That's right, I'm taking German 3 (even though I studied it for 8 years). I don't think one of my classmates realized how seriously Germans take their du's and Sie's... He asked her in the first class if he could call her 'du'. Her eyes just about popped out of her head, then she laughed (and she must've decided not to kill him), because she then sternly explained that you never, ever, never ever refer to a teacher in the informal. In another class with the same professor, my poor friend, taking German 1, tried to call our professor by the informal. He's lucky he's still alive to talk about it...
• One more musing for the end of August- I am 99.9% that FIU belongs to the mafia, or some 'family.' This university has single-handedly held back more college students from graduation than my scrunchee holds back the hairs on my head. I'm onto them though, they can't stop me. I'll go to the mattresses!