classes

I thought that I would have trouble adjusting to college again after taking last quarter off. Nope this is still easy. And while I would like to say it's because I'm incredibly intelligent it is mainly because I have class for 4 hours on Tuesday in two 2-hour blocks. I have a six day weekend every week. To celebrate, I am going to Italy on Thursday. Why? Because why not.

The one problem with my schedule is my choice of classes. I like both of them but one of them, my English class, is about African-American Urban Literature. And as the only American in my class, and possibly the only non-whitey, I have become to go-to guy for all things American. Who was Booker T. Washington? Ask the American. Plessy versus Ferguson? Ask the American.

The worst question was when I was asked to explain the difference between the ghetto and the hood. My terrible answer was met with the follow up question "do you ever go into the ghetto?" I may have given the worst answer possible short of saying something with the n-word in it. My respond: "Well, uh, no because I live far away from the bad parts and I don't really have a reason to go there and uh...there is the stereotype that you're more likely to get into trouble in those areas." Text cannot properly account for my bumbling and mid-sentence realization that I sounded incredibly elitist and racist. It's a good thing that my class is mostly white because I'm afraid at this point I would combine my pseudo-racism, painful awkwardness, and my inability to learn anyone's name and refer to a black student as "that one."

recap amsterdam

My trip to Amsterdam came and went without that much cause for excitement. I wish I had some elaborate story to tell about what I did there but it was your pretty standard break from school. The problem with living in Europe is that in dramatically reduces how cool it is to travel in Europe. When I first got here I was amazed that the Europeans I would talk to had never been to so many of the places I wanted to visit but within a month of being here Europe already seems old-hat to me. This is probably more of a failure on my end than anything thing.

With regards to what actually happened when I was in Amsterdam things were pretty standard I suppose. The first two days were spent seeing the sights: museums, which were okay but not as impressive as the ones in Copenhagen; coffeshops, which were a lot different than what I had imagined; the Red Light District, which I bet is cooler when it is not raining outside; and the touristy canal tour. I tried Dutch cuisine which was good and affordable. I must say I have a new found appreciation for any country or city that is less expensive than Copenhagen. I felt like a baller being able to buy a Diet Coke.

The joys I felt from feeling full were replaced with the pains of food poisoning. My goal when I came to Copenhagen was not to make an ass out of myself. So far I have kept that goal in tact in Denmark. In Amsterdam I may have forever ruined Americans for two young Spanish ladies who had the misfortune of sharing the same room with me in the hostel. Around 4 or 5 in the morning I was faced with the sudden urge that whatever I had in my stomach was not meant to be there for long. I quickly climbed out of the top bunk bed in which I was supposed to be asleep only to realize that the bathroom, a mere 10 yards away, was an impossible goal. I realized this while I ran over to the in-room sink that was situated only a few feet from the currently sleeping/soon to be pissed lady and emptied the contents of my stomach. I eventually made it to the bathroom to finish the job.

After cleaning the mess that mostly stayed in the sink and listening to the Spanish ladies speak to one another in hushed tones picking up only a few words I was able to get some sleep. I would like to say that my embarrassment ended then and there but those who know me know that it wouldn't be like me to not exacerbate the situation. I felt slightly better with a couple hours of rest leading me to make the decision to go out in the morning to one last museum before my pass expired. I'm going to cut a long story short and just say that there are very few things worse than trying to ask for the bathroom inside a museum and having to stop mid-sentence because the water you drank and the toast you ate in the morning have also decided they needed to immediately vacate the premise. I assume one of the things worse than that is being the person who had to clean up my mess. Sorry.

I went back to the hostel after that and I stayed in bed until the next day. To make up for my shitty luck with food I was blessed with awesome luck gambling. Anyone who has had the misfortune of hearing my bad beat story knows that to my grave I will curse the names of Cici and Chang who together forcibly raped me of my funds and my dignity during my first trip to Las Vegas. While I may not have caught the name of the two blackjack dealers who hooked it up last Saturday they are now my only reason for believing in karma. I nearly lost my last forty Euros but instead walked away with an extra 100. With that money I wiped almost 3/4ths of my expenses from Amsterdam off the table. Hostel? Free! Food? Free! Feeling like Mathew Lesko every time I write free? Free!

I'm sure I am violating some sort of economic fallacy by reveling in my winnings but I am going to go ahead and claim ignorance for the sake of happiness. It was fun, I'm going to go again at some point, but I am glad to be back in Copenhagen.