Besides Blacking Out In Germany…
We visit Theatine Church, which is a smoke show of a church (oof.) We have cute German breakfasts at our hostel. We go on a Dachau concentration camp tour–of which remains the best tour I’ve been on throughout my entire backpacking trip. We go on a bike tour called Mike’s Bike Tours with a guy named Charles. We bike through a nudist meadow, the Englischer Garten (English Garden), Odeonsplatz, and Eisbach (surfing in the Isar River, So. Fucking. Cool). Winda contemplates jumping into the Isar River. I am strongly against this idea. We eat the creepiest looking fish on a stick, bratwurst, schnitzel (obvs), and beer at Königlicher Hirschgarten (largest outdoor beer garden in the world). We contemplate stealing another beer glass. We decide against it–our hostel receptionist (Jon From Australia) has already labelled us as criminals escaping from Canada.
We go to Augustiner Keller, end up sitting at the same table of a nice (and super fucking tall) Australian couple, and are fed lies about Australia (I say this in the most loving way). We make an American friend. We will eventually and unexpectedly see this American friend later on in our travels because the universe does things like that..
Bye, Germany–you were just delightful.
I love me some Sunday Funday! Mainly because it rhymes with ‘funday’ and for no other particular reason. I just love things that rhyme.
1. Home of the best stone oven pizza in Vancouver (in my honest opinion), Nicli Antica Pizzeria is white and immaculate.
2. Even their ice cubes are perf. Boylan sodas are made with cane sugar, so we suppose they are healthy ish. I recommend their birch beer or red creamy birch beer–a less sugary ode to root beer x cream soda.
3. Misto salads x warm olives — Sweet baby Jesus, I hate olives so much.
4. Sexy corners of their margherita, prosciutto, and secret pizza. I didn’t tell you here, but their secret pizza is at the back of the menu and is soooo good. It’s the right kind of spicy, with perfectly cooked slices of mushroom and artichoke.
5. Their affagado is life itself. Espressos are simply incomplete creatures without a dollop of vanilla bean gelato.
6. Glenburn Soda Fountain & Confectionary’s banana split x vanilla malt shake. Try anything with their homemade pineapple sauce, and anything covered in their toasted salted walnuts. You will die. You will die and come back to finish the rest of your ice cream.
I literally dream of the aforementioned substances. Plus, Glenburn is family-owned and offer the adorable novelty that are old-school paper straws.
Foreign Exchange blouse
Forever 21 shorts
Reviving an outfit from last summer because unfortunately for me, I’m not one of those girls who enjoys knit leggings, cuddles with Starbucks’ red holiday cups, and loves fall with the power of a thousand autumn-oriented emojis. Instead, I have an affinity for wearing no pants (but who doesn’t, really?), and I find layers and closed-toed shoes restricting.. And that’s how a summer wardrobe emerges as my forte.
I will be forever entranced with loose-fitting blouses that billow through light summer breezes, denim cutoffs with an iconic destroyed pocket, sandals I can ruin at the beach..
Lizzie Velasquez’s TEDTalks video on agency. So important to remember every single day of your life. It’s not about dousing yourself in optimism or even being grateful for all the good things in your life, it’s about the fact that you have full control of your life–full control to chase the good things–and that’s the greatest blessing we could ever have.
Last night I saw Thor: The Dark World (I wish Dr. Erik Selvig was naked for more of the movie) and then went to Venue to see Morgan Page. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know who Morgan Page is (“Which one is he? The one with the toque or..?”) but I went for moral support/it was free.
While standing in the archetypal mile-long line for the women’s washroom, the girls my friend and I were sandwiched between had a conversation that went along the lines of:
Girl #1: Oh my God, it does not take that long to pee.
Girl #2: Oh my God, I know right? This is so ridiculous. Do you want to go bang on some doors? I’m down to do that.
Girl #1: *says something along the lines of agreeing–was not really listening because she was annoying*
Girl #2: I like you! You’re from East Van, aren’t you? Haha, oh my God, you’re from East Van, aren’t you!
What the fuck, dude. What is your problem? I’m from East Van. And I have friends who were born and raised in East Van, and we do not
go make empty threats about banging on washroom stall doors because inebriated chicks who are at the brink of puking are apparently taking more than 30 seconds to pee. Like y’all are sober, what is the rush? Can’t we just all be in this together on this journey called life????
At the same time, we can all learn something from people who lack civility and who forget that they’re living in a society that ideally aims towards a sense of community. These moments remind me to consider kindness and respect for other people. I actually watched an incredibly rude girl get kicked out before she even got in the club. Forreal, she was very loudly complaining about how disgusting Vancouver clubs are (so then why are you here?) and gave attitude to the guest line chick, and the bouncer came over and told her to leave. These people are like the World Star Hip-Hop of real life.
So always say please and thank you — and an especial thank you to those who remind us to be better.
Here’s a toast for the douchebags.
What else happened last night?? Oh right, my friend almost gauged my eyeball out and the pain still reverberates in my eye socket today. My girlfriend covered a slice of pizza with an incredible amount of Tabasco sauce and ranch dressing–the point that it was soaked and dripping–it was really. Fucking. Good.
I’m still thinking about it right now.
I think I found my spirit animal.
xx, Butterscotch Waterfall
In my mind, Vegas is where all answers are yes. Yes, food can be delivered to your room at all ungodly hours of the AM. Yes, booze is free (if you have a vagina.) Yes, feel free to get drunk as shit in broad daylight in front of children and their families–in fact, it’s encouraged. Yes, you can take a cab through the In-N-Out drive thru (which we took full advantage — thank you, State of Nevada!)
There were a LOT of yesses this trip, and a few no’s..
– Skipping long ass taxi lines out of sheer luck. Nobody objected because the guys who let us in were drunk out of their minds/so hilarious. (Otherwise, I’m nearly positive an angry mom would’ve reamed us out.)
– Receiving ALL your stuff back after you’ve left it in your hotel room AFTER checking out. This includes the money in your wallet, passports, all ID’s, iPhones, new Forever21 dresses.. The housekeeper fills out a form, and lists everything they’ve found.
Yeah, we dun goofed our second day (we had to switch hotels) and we were freaking the fuck out. I was digging through my giant backpack while having a belated birthday lunch, and my purse (filled with my entire life) was missing. Yes, I am an idiot. (!!)
In case you do lose your passport in Vegas, you’ll have to go to the nearest Canadian Embassy (4 hours away in LA) and overnight one over ($200). My girlfriends Google’d all that up in the midst of losing our shit/while I cabbed to Planet Hollywood by myself and sat in the Lost & Found for two hours–bless them.
– While I was in the Lost & Found, I learnt that some people often leave entire suitcases filled with clothes in their room after checking out, leaving the state for weeks on end, only to call back a month later.. (what the fuck?!)
– Friends finding bags for you to throw up in while waiting for your taxi after the club (my friend asked housekeeping and came back with a bag that said “Hazardous Materials” and the skull faces all over..how fitting!)
– Checking into your 5-star hotel in a crop top and cutoffs. You will get stares, maybe even shakes of the head, but the customer service is still exceptional because money talks.
– Being invited to the table right next to Tiesto’s DJ booth, getting to shake hands with him and telling him you love him, even if you may or may not listen to his music..
– Taking THIS photo in between throwing up in an empty Fiji water bottle and throwing up for the rest of the night in a washroom:
This is the result of having full control of a 4.5L bottle of Grey Goose vodka. I was literally pouring it into my friends’ glasses going, “Wheeee!”
– Getting so drunk to the point where I was holding a can of Redbull upside down, and did not notice until my girlfriend flipped it over, and was like “KAYLYNN!!!”
– Waking up to glitter all over the room/shower/a tribute to Katy Perry’s Friday Night
– Going in for a foot soak, only to overflow the tub with bubbles.. (I used up the last of our shampoo. Oops.)
– Bay Area girls! We met a lot of people from SF that weekend, and everyone was surprised (and to our luck, delighted) that we were Canadian. One girl even said, “I didn’t know there were so many Asian people in Vancouver!” Oooh girl.. there is.
– This photo:
– Bruises that come from nowhere (although this happens in every city):
– Belated birthday cake in a bed that’s not yours..
– Drive-thru via exasperated taxi driver for a double double animal style:
– If you’re going to be a loofah for Halloween, prepare to set aside at least an hour to puff up your damn costume.
– I know all guys lie in Vegas, but at least come up with a good one. This guy who would not leave me alone said he was from LA, worked as an investor at a reputable firm, and came down every single weekend to promote at the clubs in Vegas. Like y’all must be doing sooo well at your daytime job.. Another guy told me his name was Norway because he was born in Norway. That is like my parents naming me Canada. Like what. The. Fuck.
– Just because it’s expensive, doesn’t mean it’s delicious.
Vegas is SO many crazy things. It’s both insane and disorienting to know that only a few blocks of a city is made into such a consumerist spectacle, while the rest of the city is far less dazzling. So many yesses, and yes, women get a lot of free shit but it’s at the expense of being objectified..
My girlfriends and I promised each other that in a few years, we’re going to go back and get ourselves a liquor-laden table with bottles of Grey Goose the length of our legs. And we’ll be asking club managers to fish us the most beautiful men and women in the club..
Here’s to dreaming/talking shit!
I have a One Direction Erection–the huge, throbbing, and pulsating with passion kind. (A One Direction Infection is for the little ones.. big girls get the 1D Erection.)
I’m not going to go into the nitty gritty details of my fangirl obsession because 1) it’s annoying 2) it’s only slightly embarrassing that I stalked a group of five boys the same age as my brother 3) it would probably be the longest post of my life.
The concert was AMAZE. I have been to a handful of concerts, but it’s never been an artist I absolutely LOVE. Y’all already know I know 99.5% of their songs, and to be able to sing those songs in unison with a stadium chock full of people is BEYOND the beyond.
I can only imagine how it feels for them to stare back at the audience, listening to them sing along to every word they sing back..
These are my beautiful friends who came with. After watching me be near tears when I was without a ticket, and THEN seeing my full fangirl form before/during/after the concert–I am SO grateful (and astonished) they are still my friends. I was pretty much going through a multi-level meltdown the entire time the band was in the same city as me.
I’ve had so much backlash for being a fan of a Top 40’s boyband, but freal–sit down with me and I will tell you whatsup with One Direction…
Also they were giving out ice cream after the concert–it’s like they KNEW I was coming.
I may or may not have been double-fisting free ice cream.
And obvi, if you are friends with me, we got drunk after the concert and met a bunch of crazy people. We ended up rubbing this huge brown guy’s belly, meeting someone named Atilla [The Hun], and utilizing the Boris Theory for the first time. Um.. also, this guy introduced himself to me as Asshole, and said he’d give us his mardi gras beads if we flashed him–I am hoping (but not really) that he did not get beat up that night.
This is us post-bellyrubbing, but pre-dancing with two gay roommates.
And here is my fav member of the band being cute AF:
I’d like to think that Niall’s smile during his acoustic solo in “Little Things” was indeed in response to my “I LOVE YOU NIALL! MARRY ME!”
I should add that I wrote a paper on One Direction for one of my classes. And BOOM goes the dynamite, because I got an A-! One Direction always wins, y’all.