We are living in an Imperial world, and I am an Imperial girl...

Come on, sing it with me! Okay, so this little spoof of a song has nothing to do with this blog entry, except that I was thinking of possible lyrics for such a song while today at work I was mindlessly filling boxes with exfoliating and moisturizing sea salt bath crystals packages (say that 5 times fast). I think Weird Al and I should could come up with a good one. Of course, knowing the excessive Star Wars fans out there, I'm sure that such a song already exists.

Now, on to the topic at hand..."I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it!" Yes, I'm totally psyched that I'll be driving to MN tomorrow after work. No work on Friday for me, thanks to a little "appointment" I have. Tee hee hee. But hey, I didn't even have to fib--all I said was that I need to get to an appointment in MN on Friday, which is totally true: Tricia put me in her date book :) So I have an appointment to get down on my b-day! Yay for me turning 23! Then I'lll officially be older than dirt--according to some circles.

And it looks like a night at GZ is in order for Thursday night unless something else comes up. You know what that means ;) I'm thinking short, I'm thinking black, I'm thinking zippered....in short, I'm thinking totally hot. Can't imagine it? or maybe you just would rather not imagine it :P Or maybe you would ;) What can I say, it's "Bondage Night" and though I'm not really into the whole dominatrix and porn thing, dressing up in funky, sexy, stylin' outfits and dancing the night away with great friends is my idea of fun :)

So, see you on the dance floor! Or, if "Bondage Night" at wonderful club Ground Zero isn't your thing, then you can always just wish me a happy birthday and I guess that will be alright...for now ;) Now to figure out what the heck is going to match that snazzy black skirt I bought in London....

Early to bed, early to rise...make me vomit

Tomorrow I get to start work at a packaging plant, but this time I get to FILL boxes instead of make them. Yippee. Eh, it's a job. And thankfully, it's temporary. Despite my intense dislike for getting up before 8am, I suppose getting up and being at work from 7-3 will be good for me. Especially since I haven't exactly accomplished much in the last week aside from cooking now and then. My room's still a hole, and I have plenty of projects I should be doing. At least after tomorrow I'll have an excuse ;) Wish me luck, friends!

Okay, bear with me

I'm trying to update this blog, which is much in need of an overhaul. Pink was good for a while, and I liked the various hues, but I'm sorry, enough is enough of the pink theme. Time to move on. Unfortunately, blogger has crappy templates, so I'm not going to mess with that much yet. Eventually, I'd like to see about getting my site hosted by Tripod so I can use more pictures. But first I have to figure out how to do that without losing all of my shit. So far, I've just lost the ONE PICTURE on this dang site by trying to put up a different one. ::sigh:: Eventually I'll get it figured out.

Top Ten Reasons It's Good to Be Home

10. TV and VCR--can you say "Movies!!!"
9. Driving anywhere, anytime.
8. Sleeping in.
7. Free food.
6. Sleeping in.
5. My computer :)
4. Sleeping in.
3. Puppies.
2. Family and friends to hang out with.
1. Someone to share a bed with.

Top Ten Reasons Home Is Lame

10. Phone ringing every half hour from 8am on.
9. My room's a hole that needs organizing.
8. Sitting on my ass too much when I need exercise.
7. Household chores.
6. Sub-zero temperatures.
5. My dad's campaigning.
4. Family conflicts.
3. No job and a miniscule amount of money.
2. Did I mention SUB FRIGGEN ZERO TEMPERATURES?!
1. One loooong spring.

My name is Katie and I like to fly

Okay, so the only one who will get that joke is Jenni. I hope she enjoys it ;)

As for the rest of you blokes, I'm happy and sad to say that tomorrow's the day I fly home. In fact, in about 12 hours I will be all aboard, hopefully sitting near my wonderful travel companion and enjoying a nice smooth flight. Just in case, I think I'm going to refrain from mowing down a bunch of junk food before the flight. It just didn't go over very well last time.

For certain, the streets of London will call me back someday--according to the dating rules that'll be no sooner than at least two weeks from now. My guess is that London's a smooth one, and it'll probably be next year sometime. Always playing it cool :P

Even with the bit of melancholy of leaving, I'm ultra excited about going home. After weeks of living as a foreigner, it'll be great to be among the familiar again. It may be cold, it may not be overly thrilling, but it's home and it contains the people I love. And in the end, the people are just more important than the place. Besides, there's nothing saying I can't grab a few new traveling companions on my next adventure.

Check ya on the flipside! Of the world that is ;)

42.5 hours...but who's counting?

In less than two days I'll be in Chicago.
In almost two days I'll be home.

In two days I'll be petting my dogs, hugging my parents, and calling my friends.
In two days I'll be giving my boyfriend a huge hug and kiss.
In two days I'll be kicking ass once more with my "twin."
In two days I'll be sharing exciting stories with my brothers and sisters-in-law.
In two days I'll be watching my nephew crawl across the floor to me.
In two days I'll be absorbing wonderfully pointless American television.
In two days I'll be drinking a cup of flavored, bottom-less coffee at Caffe Espresso.
In two days I'll be eating stove-top popcorn while watching a movie.
In two days I'll be staring at all of the luggage I should unpack but will not.
In two days I'll be sleeping in my own bed with my own fluffy blankets and pillow.

In two days I'll be dreaming of ways I can afford to travel back to Europe.

Absence makes the heart grow...sick of traveling

Hello all, sorry to just slip out of existence for a week there. Jenny and I have just concluded our "whirlwind" tour of France, Germany, and Austria, having just arrived at our hostel in London about 45 min ago. That might not mean much to you out there in the Central Time Zone, but I can tell you that trying to get a night bus and taxi to a dang hostel at 1:30am friggen sucks. Actually, our whole day of travel pretty much blew goats all to hell. But I'll not get into that.

Okay, maybe I will. First, of all, it was OUR fault for deciding to save a few euros by first taking a train to Frankfurt from Berlin, knowing that it cost €20 less out of the Frankfurt airport (this is via Ryanair). Now, let me tell you a little something about Ryanair: Ryanair has no concept of distance or location.

So we get our tickets for flying from Frankfurt to London Standsted, thinking "Hey, aren't we savvy travelers? We just saved ourselves money by getting a 'free' trip to Frankfurt via our last flexi-day on our Eurrail passes (that we weren't going to use anyway) and then flying out of there. Piece of cake!" Mmmm, hmm, yeah. Next time we'll do a bit more research.

You see, "Frankfurt-Hahn Airport" is where Ryanair said we'd be flying from to get to London. No problem right? Yeah, if you don't mind a 1 hour 45 min BUS ride to a place called Hahn. I'm sorry, but a place that is 100some km away from Frankfurt IS NOT FRANKFURT! STOP ADVERTISING IT AS SUCH!!!

I understand that Ryanair is a cheap little airline that uses cheap little airports that are distances away from the main city, but even London Stansted is only 45 min away and there's a nice quick train to use that is actually LESS cost than the bus ticket for Frankfurt-Hahn from the train station. Oh, that reminds me. Let me tell you a little something about cheap airports.

Jenny and I got in the line to check our bags, stuck behind a crowd of about 20 pre-adolescent boys on a "football" team with their coaches. Thankfully, they got through quickly. The same cannot be said for me. I went up the the desk, put my bags on the platform and was promptly and bitchily told that my bags were to heavy. If I wanted to check 2 bags, it would cost me an extra €66. My ticket to get ON THE DAMN PLANE only cost me €19.00. Needless to say, I was a bit frazzled. Now what?

Well, she said my smaller bags were too big to have as a carry on, which was such bullshit, since I basically took the same amount with me by the end. I DID end up discarding: a handful of dirty socks; my bottles of shampoo, soap, hairspray, hairgel, febreeze, and body spray; stupid papers I didn't really need with me; my pajama shirt; and a few other things I can't even thinkg of right now. I was ready to throw out almost anything in my frustration. I wish I had kept the soap. That might have been nice for tomorrow. Guess I'll be borrowing Jenny's. Or just be really dirty. Dang.

After this whole ordeal of spewing the contents of my suitcase on the ground and throwing out some of my replacable possessions, I managed to get the weight of the suitcase down to only 2kg over (costing me €12). At that point, I just wanted on the damn plane, no matter the friggen cost. And my carryons were fine. Whew. So we get on the plane. Ordeal over, right? Nah uh.

Another thing about small, cheap airlines...they're bumpy. It certainly didn't help that Jenny and I had plenty of junk food before we got on our flight, thinking we'd be hungry later if we didn't. Oh, I definitely wasn't hungry. All of my energy was spent concentrating on not being sick on the plane. Thankfully, I was successful, though it was comforting to know that I did have a handy Ziploc bag in my purse to use in case of "emergency evacuation."

Customs took forever, getting our bags took forever and a day, and then we got on yet another train. But we were finally heading to London--YAY! Only, the Tube doesn't run that late, so we had to take night busses. The one to King's Cross was easy to manage, but from there...all we found were seedy characters trying to sell us bus tickets or to get us into their illegal unmarked taxis. We gave up on the bus and opted to find a MARKED taxi, which took a little wait. When we saw one approaching, I was ready to do anything to hail it. I wonder if he would have been impressed by my unshaved, sneaker footed leg?

But we're here now, and friggen tired, so now it's off to bed. I just felt the need to vent all that. Besides, we're so exhausted now that we're overtired. Anyone up for a run to the 24 hour corner store?

Oh yes. It's very nice.

Like a grail-shaped beacon, it has both called us from our humble beginning and led us through perils that are far too perilious. But since our time in Paris, it has been our quest. We have walked and ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdoms of Munich, Salzburg, and Vienna.

And it has taunted us like so many Frenchmen, "We French persons outwit you a second time, perfidious English mousedropping hoarders ... I wave my private parts at your aunties, you brightly-coloured, mealy-templed, cranberry-smelling, electric donkey-bottom biters," with inadequate imitations strewn about like so many bones.

Still, we journeyed on. We knew that... somewhere out there ... there must (intro music) Stop that! Stop that. Okay, well, I better get on with it.

Jenny and I made an important discovery: a crepe stand here in Vienna. Not just any crepe stand, but one that actually attempts to make crepes with Nuttella-esque ingredients. It's still not QUITE the same, but it's better than nothing.

I know what you're thinking: the most important thing you've seen or done in the last few days of touring around some of the oldest and grandest cities in the world was find a semi-decent crepe stand? I understand your concern, and I can answer that. Yes.