Hater’s gonna Hate my Lists

My favorite thing about getting older as a kid was being able to have a birthday party. What I enjoyed even more than the party was what led up to the party… the planning, the invitations, and the LISTS. I’d list out all of my friends, then decide who was superior enough to come. Sometimes, I’d order my friends by who I was closest with: best friends at the top and not best friends where the not best friends belong.

ANYWAY, being in New Jersey with the fam-bam and seeing my friends from middle/high school made me nostalgic. But I’ve just returned to the land of endless sun, waxed bums, and Native Foods (missed you boo), so i’m celebrating by making some NEW LISTS.

This one’s called “I hate people who”…

I hate people who:

-Facetime aloud on public transport. No, I do not care if your girlfriend just got a new puppy. And I absolutely do not want to see that puppy taking it’s first crap in your shoes. Thanks tho

-Can casually snack on peanut m&ms before lunchtime. That’s bad ass and I hate you.

-Can rock belly shirts and belly rings

-Constantly talk about snapchat

-Pretend everything’s great when it’s barely mediocre/ actually fucking sucks

-Are always in a relationship

-Are always talking about their relationship

-Chew gum like a cow

Now, that’s a lot of negativity I just let loose… and it doesn’t seem fair that I should be able to bag on all of these people, am I right? So, here’s ANOTHER list:

You probably HATE when I:

-Speak my entire day’s schedule aloud

-Only eat 1/2 of my sushi roll at a time, letting the other half fall onto the plate and make a gross disgusting mess. TBH people like me don’t deserve to eat sushi.

-Constantly complain about how expensive things are

-Show my midriff at inappropriate times

-Talk quite loudly about things that embarrass the average person like vibrators or your intimacy issues. Or about my indigestion struggles.

-Get really weird and stoney then try to make everything into a philosophical theory. Like, when I came to the “realization” that even Michelle Obama has her period and has to wear pads. Which are giant diapers.

-Complain that I hooked up with a guy and not a girl… again. Like oops Allison stop getting drunk and then conveniently “forgetting” what side of the spectrum you’re REALLY on. Jeesh.

That’s all the hate for today! I feel great now 🙂

Taking it slow: My trip to Paris re-capped by the ghost of Ernest Hemingway

We’d agreed that that’s how we’d want our last trip to move. Slowly. At a glacial, leisurely pace so as to allow for all the casual strolls and baguette-brie picnics under the Parisian sun.

That’s the thing about travel expectations. Hardly met, but when they are, it’s magical.

On our first day, Madie and I were tuckered out from our early train/ overnight bus, so we only managed Musee d’Orsay, Chipotle (we ate shamelessly), and some Seine walking to boot. Then we napped and cooked dinner like the elderly Parisian couple would on a gloomy Thursday evening. Our overwhelming exhaustion forced us to skip the night-cap and after-dinner cigars. Our lungs and livers smiled.

Friday brought a whirlwind of emotions. We saw the Eiffel Tower. Laughed at the tourists in line to climb to the top. At this point in our travels, no tower, church, museum, or wonder-of-the-world could bring us to wait in the cold. For after three hours of standing and listening to the restless loop of thoughts that naturally torture every line waiter… Why are we here? Can someone sedate Grandma Dorris? Will that crying baby just shut up already? By the time we’d reach the top, the sight would have lost its luster.

Yet, sitting on the side of Canal St. Martin, the most peaceful of canals if I do say so myself, I felt my foot for the first time that day. It was not happy. It roared at touch, at any sort of movement. Despite the love in the air, the abundance of teenagers sucking face along the water, nothing could distract me from the pain. And so Madie and I made our way back to our adorable abode in Fort D’Issy,

But the things we ate. Oh the things we ate on that glorious Friday. Croissants aux Amandes. Pain au chocolat. Nutella banana Crepes. L’As du Fallafel. And for dinner, frozen pizza with a package of lettuce.

……. alright Ernest. Enough already. Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to write with such an ego?…

Woah guys, that was weird. Hey! I’m back! Paris was super cool what a gorgeous city! Madie and I had a blast! And then I hurt my foot from over-walking (bound to happen I guess) so I had to fulfill my Granny-status by limping around for the next two days! But we still had a great time and drank 4euro wine and rented bikes and went to a market and made a little Picnic and rode boats on the canal and hung out with the beautiful Marie McCoy-Thompson! It was a swell time if I do say so myself!

Hey! Also! If anyone hasn’t told you to go to Paris yet, you really should! Even if you’ve never heard of it, I swear, I’m not making a false recommendation! It’s really just a pretty place with really expensive food that tastes nice! Honestly!

The Podcast Solution

I didn’t begin listening to podcasts until after I’d already started one. It was (is) called Sex Balcony and consists of my girl Aarin and myself being silly while interviewing interesting USC students… with a secret twist. (OOH, AHH, SECRETS.)

Anyway, flash forward to beginning of my junior year, I finally hopped onto the podcasting boat when I began to religiously listen to Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, Fresh Air, and Serial. They serenaded me as I walked to and from campus, grocery shopped, and pretended to study.

Well, those were cool for a while. Then, I began my euro travels. And as can be assumed, there’s a TON of “dead time” when you’re waiting for flights, dying on busses, plotting ways to silently murder the snoring person keeping you awake in your hostel…

So, suggestion-wise, besides the NPR shows mentioned above and other popular ones like Invisibilia and Radiolab, here are my favorites you may not have heard of!

1. Dear Sugar: Cheryl Strayed (author of Wild) and Steve Almond give advice on life’s toughest questions. I love it because there’s no bull shit. Strayed and Almond are completely honest about their own pasts and feel comfortable talking about topics such as polyamorous relationships, cheating, and the art of falling out of love. Every week, they’ll have a guest caller who also puts in their two cents. Guests have included Elizabeth Gilbert and George Saunders.

2. Death, Sex, & Money: Anna Sale (WNYC) interviews crazy interesting people about their personal struggles… like Margaret Cho, Jane Fonda, W. Kamau Bell, and Ken Jeong. She’s a great interviewer, definitely on par with Terry Gross. Not afraid to ask the big questions, and as these three subjects tend to make us vulnerable as fuck, she gets some big answers.

3. Nerdette: A podcast that mixes feminism with the celebration of nerds. Super fun and upbeat. Also I’m a nerd so…

My favorite episode of the month: “The Living Room” from the podcast Love and Radio. It was re-broadcasted on Radiolab, which is how I heard it originally, but honestly, it’s one of the most beautiful stories I’ve ever heard. Definitely a tear-jerker.

Now, this has been a super long post about podcasts. Kind of annoying if you ask me. Especially if you’re like most people (although that’s totally changing) and don’t give a shit about podcasts. SO, if I have convinced you at all to try some out, here are the basic steps to get you there.

How to become a Podcast Snob

1. Be super basic and look up “most listened to” shows on iTunes. I can promise you half of them will be NPR and Serial will be listed in the top ten.

2. Once you’ve picked a few starters, listen while you do boring things like brushing your dog or waiting for the shower to become warm and not scolding hot/ freezing cold.

3. WHEN you become obsessed with your first show, start branching out. Other podcasts will be shamelessly plugged, so write down those titles and check em’ out.

4. Don’t be embarrassed to talk about the things you’re learning as you listen. It’ll make yah more excited about this new part of your life/ maybe it’ll get other people pumped about it too. And if your friends call you a LAME-O with a capital LAME-O, just remember that you’re the cool one who is being opened up to the world… your friends can suck it

You Feel Me?

One phrase I think describes me to a “T” is “Girl with a lot of Feelings.” I use the word “Feeling” in the most specific sense, as I feel everything too intensely for my own good. Here are two super fun examples:

1. Parks

When I see an open space of greenery I don’t know what to do with myself. Half of me wants to cry and half of me wants to drop everything to run through it singing “the hills are alive…” It’s a house boat of struggles.

2.  Movies about animals or when animals die

War Horse? Marley & Me? Bambi!? I KNOW I’M NOT ALONE PEOPLE

Okay Allison, we get it you’re an emotional creature but why does that have to do with-

Because, person who is reading this/aunt Meryl, lately I’ve been thinking about taking pictures with walls. You do that a lot when you’re traveling. There’s the Great Wall of China, the Berlin Wall, the Lennon Wall, all places that exist as tourist attractions and as vehicles though which we can categorize ourselves. Especially with the last two examples.

So here’s my Lennon Wall picture.

Typical study abroad gotta snag a pic of the symbol for free love and expression. And as annoying as tourist-ey things are to me, finding the phrase or image that best describes my perspective on that wall was exhilarating. When I post it to Facebook for family and friends, I’m (sort-of) making a statement. It’s one of today’s biggest forms of online activism. You’re not really doing anything, but at least you have an opinion. You feel comfortable enough with your malleable identity to tell your media sphere: “Hey you guys, I agree with this.”

What’s up next on the Bagelwoman’s itinerary (aside from Vondelparking…)

King’s Day: every Amsterdammer gets turnt in public on a Monday

A Massive Hangover: (the day after King’s day)

ATHENS: time for this milky white girl to o-LIVE it up in the Mediterranean

There’s other stuff too but you don’t really care THAT much.

City Lyfe

Since I love observing people to determine what animal they look like, I figured it’d be (hella) cool to do that with cities. If you live there and you think I’ve misrepresented your city, take it up with Tillie, my legal advisor.

Tillie (center) – this is not her mug shot

Prague is an absolute girly girl, but never wears lipstick because it’ll stain her favorite beer mug. She’s sweet as pie but self-depreciating.  Prague’s also a middle-chid because she tends to be the pacifist of the family. And when you get on her bad side, she flat-out ignores you–choosing to tell you off through her actions over her words. If you need something to compare her to, she sort of looks like Berlin if they were wearing a tutu.

That brings us to Berlin, who’s queer-er than a combo of both Ellen’s, but who doesn’t believe in the spectrum because they just dig labels. They have 5 antique label-makers at home, none of which have any buttons. BUT, they’re still basic in that Berlin (guiltily of course) loves reality television. They would kill in Kim Kardashian trivia.

Animal-wise, Amsterdam is a Great Dane with a light-up bedazzled collar. And he rocks that collar like he’s the Netflix of streaming. Cause he invented that ish and will bite anyone who disagrees.

Alright I’m tired of this. If you have one for your city send it my way so I can tell you you’re wrong.

Berlin, baby

I took this picture because I thought it spoke to my personality. (I’m weird guys that shouldn’t be surprising at this point…) But now, I’m thinking it better describes the crazy hipster vegan artsy war-torn multicultural chaotic mess that is Berlin. It’s a city whose weather will give you a bad hair day, everyday, to the point where you’ll forget what it looks like on a good one.

Because I could literally go on and on about all of the hidden parks, amazing 1euro baklava, and gorgeously rain-stained apartments… I’m just going to tell ya’ll about my favorite things in case you get a chance to check this bitch out.

1. Neue Heimat

Funky bar/ jazz club. A DJ plays hip music like Prince in the main warehouse. You meet people like Chaz who used to work at Berghain and gets in for free the two times he goes each year. He’s totalllllly over that scene now though. He was on his way to an orgy. We were invited. We (sadly) said no.

2. Neukolln

A trendy neighborhood filled with good brunch spots, weird gardens, and Turks galore. Walking down its sleepier streets was like walking through a pastel fairytale.

3. The Jewish Museum

Upon discovering that this museum’s history of the Jewish people traced back to ancient times, I was shocked into awe. Nowhere have I seen such beautiful exhibits celebrating and educating us about the Jewish culture.

Those are my top three, but here’s some other must-see/ must- do shenanigans:

-The Berlin Wall

-Mediterranean Burger at BurgerAMT

-Neus Museum

-Tiergarten Park

-Vegan food

-Get lost everywhere. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. There’s going to be an U-ban stop eventually (that you probably won’t buy a ticket for,) and you never know what hidden gems you’ll find… like this beau-T.

Thanks to Sanam and Akiva for your awesome recommendations.

**Always ask for tips from locals or from people who have been before. Literally changes the travel experience I swear.

Let’s talk about this like adults

It was easy for me to start blogging. Everything was new, exciting, scary, interesting… raw. I truly believed there was something for me to conquer, and dammit I was going to conquer it.

Well folks, the battlefield’s a bit larger than expected. And eventually, things stopped being fresh and exhilarating. At times they even became stale. Stuffy. Slow. And when that happened for a short blip, I didn’t think my life was interesting enough to write about. Because I’m so used to my routines, my walks along the canal, beers at my favorite brewery…

But you’re not. You’re working or studying in the states, doing your own thing in another European country, maybe working on some awesome television show in NYC (hey Jenji) I don’t know. Whatever life you’re living, it’s not mine. Whatever daily routine you have, it’s not accompanied by my sarcastic quips and cute cynicism.

So hey, I’m back now. I’m telling this to you, but more to myself. And I’ve got plenty to say. Most of which can be summed up with the word baklava. Hint: I haven’t been to Greece.

I’m here, I’m here, I swear

Before I catch you up, I’d just like to apologize to all of my die-hard fans who I’ve left in the cold for the past few weeks. I knew there’d be a lull or two in the constant posts after a while, and lately, it’s been tough to get myself to return to sarcastic quip mode. Anyhow, I’m back and ready with an interview. If you read my post from Florence, I was quoted by Ba-Ba-Black-Sheep (a pseudonym), a snooty art critic who, it’s been rumored, has slept with the entire cast of Orange is the New Black. So, although I’m extremely jealous and although she basically sucks, when she called to ask for an interview, I had no choice but to agree. Find it below.

What was the first thing you did when you arrived?

Joined the nearest gym. And bought a pillow. Simultaneously.

Where are all of your pictures?

No comment.

Wait, no, comment. I don’t experience my life in pictures, but the fact that my Facebook profile lacks 8 billion photos illustrating to the world all the fun/crazy/amazing times I’m having does make me anxious about NOT snapping that drunk pic with my shitty phone camera. However, I’ve found a solution: disposable cameras. I will be purchasing one. Eventually. Yes, I know they can be pricey, but they’re cheaper here. (My budget almost always justifies any strange decisions I make due to price.)

Have you mastered any skills?

Fitting all of my groceries into my little backpack, putting on my gloves, and pulling out my bike key fast enough that the Check Out Lady has only gotten to the third person behind me in line. I began at the sixth. (Grocery shopping here = stressful) 

How do you feel you’ve changed thus far?

SIDENOTE: My mom told me that she thought my blog was getting “a little glib” so I’m going to be serious with this one.

I had no clue what I was heading into when I left for Europe in December. Traveling had always been this romanticized image, something I’d seen in movies. So to get to this strange place, know nobody, and for the first time not have an ‘out’… was a complete shock. But I got used to it. The small fridges. The importance of coins. Not walking aimlessly into the bike lane. Facetiming my sister, actually seeing her, instead of robotically calling her on my walk home from campus. These things now make up my new life… and that’s totally cool with me. I’m even starting to dig this wifi-only lifestyle. And my crappy dutch flip phone. (I remember my Dutch phone number now…) 

But honestly, being abroad has also made me a more confident person. Being able to navigate foreign trains and streets on your own is empowering, even when it’s via Google Maps on your *insert apple product here.* Biking on the streets of Amsterdam with the rest of the Dutch population is a high in itself. So why are you always stoned? (Sorry, that was my mom’s assumed interjection.)

Have you made any friends?

Who needs friends when you’ve got a bike and a local brewery 5 minutes away? But yes, I have. Like super intelligent, interesting friends who all have/ want/ or are completely against nose piercings. But when I REALLY wanna have a good time, I’ll meet up with Black and White at this rock-n-roll bar called the Waterhole. They’re these two refuge Dutch cows fleeing their life sentences—super cool, left-wing protestors who are currently anti-squatting in Amsterdam South. But like just so ya know runaway cows are pretty common in the Netherlands because it’s slowly becoming more popular to pray to cheese instead of god here. Weird, right?

The Feminist Friend

NOTE: Since arriving in Amsterdam, I’ve had a ton of discussions with a variety of different people about the term “feminist” and what it’s like to identify as such. While that could be because that’s what happens when you study abroad in this super liberal city with a bunch of college-educated kiddos, that’s also just the definition of my life. SO, here’s a little doozey I wrote about feminism. Also, Amsterdam’s pretty fucking dope. I bought a bike today and fell over on top of someone the second I hopped on. Pray for me.

*             *                *                *

Hey there. Yeah, I’m talking to you sweetie, buddy, bubala, Shatoya, whatever you’re going by these days. What do you mean you don’t know me? I know you. Didn’t your parents (or guardians or evil step-mothers) ever tell yah it’s rude to not know someone who knows you? That’s okay, I’ll try not to take offense.

But sugar, really, you know me. I’ve been in your life since eighth, ninth grade. Whenever your school started teaching Jane Austen. It flabbergasts me that you don’t remember that time in English class. We’d been split into discussion groups, and you went and (idiotically) claimed that Elizabeth Bennet was being a bit too hasty in her judgments of Mr. Darcy, leaving me no choice but to facilitate the group discussion with the tough questions: what about Mr. Darcy? Is he not at fault for being a prideful jerk? Why would you immediately use the word “bossy” to describe Lizzie instead of searching for a more effective adjective? Do you see the gender inequality in this situation and do you see how this remains pertinent nowadays? And so on.

For anyone unable to jog their memories, I’m simply reminding you of your feminist friend. Most people have at least one. If you’re reading this, it’s probably yours truly.

Here’s a summary of life as the feminist friend:

Girl I’m “friends” with but really we just met in the cafeteria freshman year and were to afraid to stop saying hi when we’d randomly bump into each other at house parties: Ummm hey you!

Me: Hey! Oh my gosh how are you?

Girl: Super duper how are you?

Me: Freaking fantastic!

Girl: That’s great.

Me: Yeah.

An awkward pause.

Girl: Oh em gee so you would like love this girl I just met. Like seriously I think you two would be best friends forever.

Me: Yeah?

Girl: Mhmm. She’s super cool and like suchhhhhh a feminist.

Me: Oh cool, what kinda stuff is she into?

Girl: Eh, I don’t know her super well, but I swear like you’ll LOVE her.

what I should have continued to say…

Me: What about her personality… interests… stance on gun control?

Girl: Al, I said she’s a feminist.

Me: Got it.

The Bagelwoman’s bag of (budget) travel tricks

1. Eurocheapo.com

2. (see number 1)

3. Grocery-store meals: become a frequenter at a local supermarket. Meals get pricey and you’ll get sick of eating at restaurants all the time/ you’ll run out of moola. Plus, your many trips may get you in with cashier… free tic tacs?

4. Walk everywhere, as much as possible. Let “getting lost” become your activity of the day. But obviously bring a map I’m not looking for you to be kidnapped and shit

5. Use a physical map, unless you’re a data bitch with an international plan. Yeah, following the little blue dot on google maps is probably fun but screens are bad for your eyes and I’m a caring friend who wants the best (sight) for you. (So you can look at me…)

6. Plan all transportation and big activities in advance. Said it before and I’ll stay it again, you always want to be confident when you’re moving from place-to-place. You wanna know your shit. You wanna have strong game and not freak out when you get on the wrong train.

7. Pregame with a bottle of wine. I don’t love wine, but it’s cheap and gets the job done. Although like I’m probably not gonna do that but you DEF should…