Food, Tequila Tuesday, Weeklies

On Tequila Tuesdays, I like to share a story of my recent drunken escapades. This weekend wasn’t so eventful, so I’m going to share an event that I personally cannot wait to attend. Of course, I will have to attend once I move to Nash-Vegas.

It’s the Beer, Bourbon and BBQ Festival.

I know, hard to believe such a wonderful thing exists. But not only does that exist, I also stumbled upon a bakery in New York City (the greatest city on Earth, obviously) which bakes delicious baked goods with the best ingredient on Earth, BACON.


So for all you stoners out there, get pumped because I’m pretty sure they ship product.

Tequila Tuesday: Beer, BBQ & Bourbon


People Who Slam Doors

Hello all. I’m sorry I’ve been completely MIA lately ealing with finals and a serious case fo writer’s block.

I would have still had writer’s block if I were not rudely awakened from my nap time slumber just now if it were not for some inconsiderate soul slamming a door and being generally loud-as-fuck.

So today I write an open letter to our friends (foes) that live one thin floor below us.

Do you possess a brain? If so, did your parents neglect to baby-proof their home before having you? I thought so.

Why else would you be so rude, inconsiderate and loud-as-fuck? I am baffled as well.

What normal human being has raging parties on Tuesday nights, allows their headboard to slam against the wall they share with an innocent other person, and SLAMS THEIR PORCH DOOR MAKING OTHER PEOPLE’S ROOMS SHAKE????

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, silly lax bros, but you do indeed have large muscles and deep voices. You’re so masculine. When you slam a door or proclaim your excitement for being “so done” with what I can only assume are classes (I’m not sure you attend them though), it’s a lot more loud than when I do those same things.

I actually do not care about how you “fucked that slam” last night or that you failed English. I find it hilarious that you think I do, though.

Your lifestyle choices will quickly catch up to you when you graduate your sub-par university and realize that no real lacrosse team wants to draft (is that right?) binge drinking muscle heads that don’t know English!

I’ve heard a good many of your conversations between each other and between you and women (I use that term loosely) and 99% of them have been completely incoherent. Saying “bro,” “like,” “motherfucker,” and “dude” every other syllable does not foster positive communication patterns.

Please move out.

Yours truly

I hope you’ve enjoyed my letter to my incoherent, idiotic neighbors. Since you’ve been so good to me, I’ll leave you with this:

One of them is violently vomiting on the porch that happens to be directly under my porch and outside my bedroom window. I take solace in the fact that I am thankfully above, not below, the bile. Please don’t slam the door once you’re done ejecting your stomach fluid.

Dear readers: How do you handle out-of-control neighbors? I’d love your help on this one.

Lyon, Travel

Lyon: One Euro Beers


Today during the day was incredibly typical (class, lunch, etc.) but the evening on the day of one euro beer night is what I really want to talk about. 

We went to Cosmopolitan Bar on our last Monday in Lyon. It’s kind of funny that they have the awesome booze deal on a Monday, right? It was ridiculous. We walked in to a completely jam-packed bar and I immediately got a drink. Then we all found a place to stand and I got two drinks. Basically, I had three cups of beer in a 10 minute span. Good idea? I think not. 

This picture sums up the night well…

As hilarious as that was, what ensued was even more out of control. The guy on our trip that no one expected to get any managed to start making out with a girl, follow her to the smoking room and continue to suck face with her for about 20 minutes, and this started only 20 minutes after arriving.

Then the girl we least expected to hook up, or even drink, on this trip immediately asked for a beer (which I happily delivered) and a man to dance with (which I also happily delivered). Why am I so good?She and one of the guys she danced with ended up exchanging phone numbers and going on several dates, eventually leading to a potential relationship.

Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match…

Au revoir (for now)

Personal, Tequila Tuesday

Tequila Tuesday: Literally though…

I’m starting a new series for Tuesdays: Recent drunken stories.

The first one is actually, conveniently enough, involving tequila. I’m going to give everyone a little recap on Cinco de Mayo 2011.

This night was debatably one of the best of my life – the night I met my ridiculously wonderful boyfriend.

The evening began with me picking up one of my 21-year-old friends in my car immediately after co-op and promptly getting about 32 Coronas (for three os us…) since they didn’t have 24 packs. Obviously that was the smart choice. I then carried said Coronas into my on-campus building in a laundry basket covered in a towel. Real stealthy.

I came home to two bottles of Jose and a container of Margarita mix. I knew where the evening was going.

Fridge of Cinco de Mayo goodness

We basically invited everyone we knew to our dorm room for a rage-fest filled with Marg shots (someone sits on a chair with their head back while someone pours a shot each of Marg mix and Jose into their mouth), Tequila shots and Coronas out the wahoo.

Anyway, after quite a few of these, my summer roommate (shouts to Rachel) decided to call one of her friends in Pike. Naturally, he was already so drunk that his big brother had to accompany him to our building. I learned later that Rachel had told said big brother that he should just come up to the room because she had a “hot roommate” which apparently meant me. I was unaware of this obvious set up.

Back in Allie-land I heard a boy speaking a different form of English – he had an ACCENT. If you know me, you know I’m incredibly attracted to accents. So, of course, I went up to this man with the wonderful pick up line of, “Are you Southern?”

From there we talked for a while, spent a while in my room “changing the music” and building up sexual tension and eventually (finally) I grew the balls to kiss him.

And that’s the story of how I met my man.


What the fuck happened tonight. (I wrote that in my Lyon Word Journal at 4:24 a.m. when I got home last night.)

You know what’s great about France? Everything. Their parties are longer, wilder and drunker. Their firemen are hotter. What’s not to love?

Let me just paint you a picture.

First there was a line at the door. Not long enough to defer us from wanting to go inside, but just long enough that we knew we were in the right place for a good time. We got to the door and the “bouncer” was checking girls’ bags. I guess there needs to be some form of security, right? Anyway, one of our girls had a flask in her bag which she “completely forgot about.” Yeah, I said the same thing when I brought a water bottle of Bacardi to my senior homecoming dance. We all told the bouncer to just toss it since it was ruined from putting Apple Pomme soda in it anyway. But he said we had to do that ourselves. Then Chelsea said she was going to “throw it away” which really meant downing it and stashing it next to a tree.

We got in to the building, got stamped and got a free drink coupon. I immediately got drinks. Desperados. Tequila flavored beer. Yep. Then we went out into the little courtyard to dance. It was an outdoor courtyard so it wasn’t like the usual hot and sweaty club. But then it started raining, which was fine. It was just a light drizzle so no one really minded. We danced to French house music and it was awesome.

We went to get more drinks a few more times and just pretended we didn’t understand them when they asked for our drink tickets. Then Leighann got a free drink a whole other way. Creeper guy + drink tickets = accidental kiss? Weird how that happens.

Anyway, then the show began. Four firemen were standing on the roof waving flares. So cool. Then the music started and the stripping began in the windows. It was the most wonderful strip tease I’ve ever gotten. OK, it’s the only real strip tease I’ve ever gotten. And it wasn’t even for me. Boo.

We ended up leaving around 2:30 a.m. since we were all very intoxicated. But somehow didn’t make it home until 4:25 a.m….

Lyon, Travel

Lyon: Le Bal des Pompiers

Lyon, Travel

Lyon: Carmen

I slept all day today. Well, OK only until 11:30 but still. It was actually really hilarious because my alarm was chirping birds and was set for noon. Then when I woke up I just didn’t turn it off and at the exact moment I opened up my window this morning, the alarm went off. I thought there were just an uncanny amount of birds in our courtyard today, but alas, I was wrong.

We went to a museum that had miniatures and movie things in it. It was kind of crazy actually. There were eight (huit) floors of stuff and one would have a bunch of old movie props and the next would have miniature scale rooms and things. One floor has stuff like scaled down furniture, clothing and shoes (among other things).

Anyway, then we got sandwiches. I got my standard ham and cheese (jambon et fromage) and we just straight chilled for a bit outside this adorable Boulangerie. I felt super French. Except when people just assume you’re American and speak English to you from the start. Thanks guys -_-

Then we got more ice cream. Of course.

Then we did something super French. Chelsea and I got a six-pack of Hoegaarden (OK, that wasn’t the French part) and we went to meet up with some girls from our school for an outdoor screening of the Opera. We met up with these girls; one was from Sweden, one from Germany and one from Hollard and they were SO nice. (I’ll disregard the part about the one from Holland being a feminist.)

Screening of Carmen in the public square

We sat outside in this huge public square called the Place des Terraux and drank our beer and watched Carmen. It would have been really good if I wasn’t sitting on the concrete ground. So we basically left after the first act. But I understood a surprising amount of the production!

After that, instead of going out, I Skyped with my big and watched some episodes of Girls. Very eventful Saturday evening.

Au revior (nor now)

Personal, Travel

Lyon: Gump’s Corner (7/1/12)

Another random discovery – French nutella from Carrefour is significantly cheaper than the Nutella brand that I buy in the USA. I wish I had any space in my luggage or carry on to fit about four jars of this lovely hazelnut spread. But my carry on was too big to be considered a carry on as it is.

Also, I learned that there is a very convenient somewhat English-speaking bar right near us. Yay! We’re actually meeting some of our new French friends there on Tuesday (Mardi) since we have no classes Wednesdays (Mercredis).

These French men that we met were sitting outside of the bar that we were considering entering – called Gump’s Corner. Such an awesome name. Anyway, as we were deciding, they said to us, “Come in! It’s cool!” in quite good English. There were only two of them at the time, but later their group proved to be of four.

While we were there, ESPANA won the Euro Cup!! It seemed like everyone in the bar was cheering on the Spanish so we went along with it as well. I’m sure that Spain is absolutely poppin’ right now. Shouts to my sisters and best friends that are currently in Valencia and Madrid!

We learned that they love their country, two of them live down the block from us, and that one of them has been to Arizona.

Other than that, we met a couple that is also in our building that go to Marshall University. They are married and in college. Not quite sure I can grasp that. But anyway, they are quite nice and will be accompanying us on the way to our exams tomorrow. So scared for those! Hopefully I do well!

Au revoir (for now)

Personal, Travel

Lyon: Journey and Arrival (6/30/12)

Today was eventful. And I say that because for me, it’s been one long 36-hour day. I got on an airplane from Boston à Lyon at 4:35 p.m. on Friday, June 29th. I arrived in Frankfurt, Germany at 5:35 a.m. on Saturday, June 30th. I then arrived (after a grueling layover) in Lyon at 11 a.m. that same day.

Granted, I did sleep for that whole 7-hour flight from Boston to Frankfurt, but it was more of a nap due to incessant baby crying, two snacks and a meal on the plane and constant hot towel offerings. Thank you, Melatonin and Lufthansa.

But the best part of the journey over to France was easily the Krombacher beer we had in the Frankfurt airport.

beer me, bro

Upon arriving a Lyon, we all went to the grocery store, came home and showered or napped and then went out in search of food. We went to a Café only to realize that the French don’t do dinner until around 7-7:30 p.m. so we had to find a random sandwich stand.

As five of us girls sat and ate our sandwiches, we’re pretty sure this old man either said we was going to dump his wife for us, that he wanted us to propose to his girlfriend for him, or that he was going to propose to us and his wife. Then he told us to call him. We understood that gesture.

And now I’m in my room watching The Big Bang Theory and neglecting to do the reading for our class on Monday…I mean tomorrow. Oops.

Au revoir (for now)