I went to Amsterdam.
Originally, I was planning to go by myself. But my three guy friends, who are also studying in Ireland (from Canada), decided to go at the same time and I wound up meeting them there.
The first night was a blur of a pub crawl, featuring unlimited vodka shots and feeling like Jane Goodall observing the guys strategizing and picking up girls.
The pubs all had smoking sections where people would just get high in these half outdoor/half indoor areas. Blurry memories of some guys from LA sharing their spliff with me. (Because world travel as a Canadian means you literally just meet Americans and no one else). Red lights and half-naked prostitutes gave the streets a nice atmosphere as we walked from one bar to the next.
I vaguely remember buying a waffle covered in chocolate and glazed strawberries and bananas. I kept thinking “Michelle if you leave this waffle in the cab I will never forgive you(me?)” as I was taking it home to eat in bed, because that’s what I do when I’m drunk and I’m disgusting.
I, however, forgot I was staying at a hostel and wound up silently giggling and eating this waffle in the top bunk trying not to wake anyone up or smack my head off the ceiling.
My friends apparently got home okay and they don’t remember how, but they do remember the “French girls”, whatever that means.
I also bought myself a little surprise for the morning because when I checked my purse there was a mysterious brownie in it.
Ah, what they hell, I ate it.
Amsterdam: 1, Me:0