The Dubliners

The most challenging part of my life right now is trying to get to the next level on the game on my flip phone. I'm going to go ahead and say I'm doing something right. 

Last weekend I flew to Ireland where I cried over Degas, was silenced by Yeats, and granted "gab" from Blarney.

We booked this trip back in August, thinking we were expert planners. We were going to fly out of Brussels- Charleroi after a day of interning in Brussels. The sheer genius and practicality unraveled very quickly when we found out:

1. Brussels- Charleroi is an hour outside Brussels by train 

2. We don't intern on Thursdays 

3. We have a night class on Thursday night 

We expertly combatted this by missing 1.5 / 2 of our classes on Thursday and sprinting/ panting/ speeding/ crying/ sweating/ cursing our way onto the plane- getting to the airport as boarding started. Luckily Ryanair was pretty quick to get through. I did however spot some security glitches. For instances, how are you going to take your sweet old time patting me down (so violating) and then not make me take off my shoes or take my liquids out of my carry on? Well, we got there so OVER IT. 

Hungry, tired, and needing to rally we decided to grab dinner before making our way to Trinity College, where we would be staying for the weekend. (Shout out to Kaitlynn's friend Liam!) We picked a random restaurant that looked like it had good food, vibes, and prices. Guess who we saw there???? THE STATUE OF LIBERTY! DRESSED IN AN AMERICAN FLAG! #doingitwrong 

After dinner, we went to Trinity, where we settled into our room- a single. One bed. I want to say dimensions around 8'x10'. We changed and went right out. Once in the bar, we found a table in a corner where we could chill after our exhausting travel day and have a few drinks. The pub got more and more crowded as we sat there drinking our Bulmers (Irish Cider). At one point, a guy at the table behind us fell back into me, laughing too hard at a video on Barstool. He felt bad and got us all drinks. From that point on, we somehow gathered a merry band of American misfits in Ireland.

We touristed HARD on Friday, first (after coffee) hitting the National Gallery of Ireland which stumbles on of my favorite Degas paintings. There were tears.

Two Dancer in their Dressing Room -Edgar Degas

We also went to the National Library, National History Museum, St. Stephen's Green, and St. Patrick's Cathedral before collapsing into our barstools and ending our day of adventures with our new favorite Cider: Bulmers. Please let me find you again in the States! 

Friday night, we hit Porterhouse, a notable Dublin bar where we found 2 for 1 Daiquiris and Chicken wings that we promptly devoured, having not eaten since our Burrito Bowls at lunch #doingitwrong. On our quest for another bar, we were lured out of the rain by the warm and familiar sounds of Sweet Home Alabama, which was ironic as we soon realized we were the only Americans in the bar. We danced the night away, requesting Roar and We Can't Stop "for the Americans." We got some weird looks as we belted out our pop anthems. 

The next morning, we were up at out of the room by 8:00 to make our PADDY WAGON TOUR to the Blarney Castle, with stops in Cork and Cobh!!! 

Not only where we thrilled about our blatantly tourist adventure into the Irish country side, but we also got to see two of our CUA friends, Maggie and Lauren, who are currently studying abroad in Dublin. Glad to see someone we knew outside our 25 person program, we gabbed our way to Blarney, comparing our internships, classes, and bar stories. In Cobh we fell in love with a Cathedral and the sun drenched coast. After a rushed lunch, in which we were forced to grab our "chips" and run, we got back in the bus and were soon at the Blarney Castle. Jovial from the sun and being outside city limits, we took goofy pictures and ran around the castle like children. We also got to kiss the Blarney Stone! I tried to take my dearest roommate Christina for a little walk in the poison garden, so I could get the annex to myself, but she was onto me. 

After our excursion, we made the three hour trip back to Dublin, only to find that the beef stew dinner we had been promising ourselves since our arrival in Dublin was just out of reach. We ended up at an Italian place #doingitwrong. Or maybe we were doing it right because I had the most insanely delicious meal I've had since I got to this continent. I had grilled mussels and a tomato stuffed with ricotta cheese, eggplant, and heaven dust. Oh and french fries. I can't not, ya know?

The highlight of dinner however was meeting the only other patrons dining at 23:30: a table of about 35 men. They decided to include us in their little awards ceremony. For these awards, the six of us girls had to reach into a bag and pull out a wrapped gift with a label that we read out. Now these labels weren't Tom, Mark, Vladimir, etc. Rather, they were titles of awards, like "Fastest Hands" and "Best Package" and "Worst Line Judge." We had so much fun picking out the winners and being a part of their tradition that year. The shutdown jokes flowed freely from those darling Irish men, but we ended the night with an epically gratifying USA chant. Chanting USA in an Italian restaurant in Dublin. What?

It was a really really great weekend.

High: Blarney Castle with Maggie and Lauren
Low: Sleeping on the floor like a broken animal
Souvenir: A book called Remembered Kisses of Irish love poems paired with
love paintings by Irish artists (everything I love: books, love, poems, art) (I just need to read it while eating French Fries and drinking coffee in a garden) (while wearing stripes and pearls)


Oh and here's the kicked: I didn't have classes on Monday or work Tuesday and Thursday. Muahaha! My own little mini Fall break!

Inexplicably Content

I could not be more content than I am right now. First of all, I got out of work early. Secondly, it is absolutely beautiful outside. Even standing for the entire 40 minute commute didn't phase me. Though it did make me feel more than entitled to a stop at Neuhaus on the way home for a chocolate fix. 

Today at work, I went in, chatted for a bit, then made my way to a two and half hour meeting with the Foreign Affairs Committee. For the most part, I've been focusing on the relationship between the EU and the Eastern Partnership, which includes Georgia, Ukraine, Moldova, Armenia, and Belarus. This assignment has been particularly interesting due to the recent resurgence of Russian influence, as revealed through initiating trade war with Ukraine as they near signing a DCFTA (Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade Agreement) with the EU and Armenia's choice to  sign on with the Russian Customs Union rather than a trade agreement with the EU. After this meeting, I had a lovely lunch, chatted with one of the guys in my office for a solid hour and a half about life, travel and religion. I then went to another meeting- this one about EU relations with Georgia. After this meeting, I ran back upstairs. I think the office is catching onto my infatuation with Russia because at this point, they sent me to a meeting called The Moscow Bubble and said I could stay for however long I wanted to and leave right after. After the struggle of finding the room, I get in and there are no seats left- meaning no headsets left- meaning I'm literally a useless human being. I stood awkwardly at the door for about 15 minutes, saying nothing. I decided to use this slightly embarrassing turn of events to make a friend, who laughed with me about how I was standing there with a legal pad, pensively staring at the speakers and not understanding a word. I oft find that it's significantly more acceptable to be awkward if you invite others to laugh with you about it. So was the case. Anyhow, I didn't last too long in the meeting, and snuck out to make my way back to Leuven, where, as you know, I celebrated my happiness with chocolate. 

This weekend, I celebrated my German heritage in Dusseldorf. Oh you never heard of it? Me either until I needed a cheap way to get to Germany and pretend I was participating in Oktoberfest. 

In one tourist guide, I read that the best way to act like a local was not too talk and laugh loudly, which is common for Americans. I've kept this in mind, but I sure as hell have not kept it in practice. That being said, everyone sitting in the sketchy Eurolines basement waiting area knows way too much about the lives of us CUA girls. We finally got to Dusseldorf, after a delayed bus. We left the bus and looked around, dropped in the middle of no where with only the vaguest sense of what we were even doing there. One look at the people around the bus stop completely mollified my nerves. There, standing at every bus stop were men in leiderhosen. Hello, Germany, you beautiful country! We had a small mishap in finding our hostel. Long story short: we thought the hostel we booked was a scam and we were going to have to sleep in the streets of Dusseldorf. Well we found the hostel, punched in a weird code on a weird box to get our keys, and climbed 800 flights of spiral stairs to get to our rooms- 23 and 24. You would think with such low numbers you wouldn't have dropped 23 or 24 pounds getting up the stairs, but whatever. LBS, right?!?! (JK, I'm actually switching to weighing myself in kilos... such a confidence boost!!!!) We had planned on going out that night, but it was about 1:00 at this point, so we decided to call it a night and wake up early in the morning to Dussel away.

Priority 1 in the morning was getting a Welcome Card- for 12 euro each we had transportation as well as museum and shop discounts. This turned out to be completely useless as NEVER ONCE DID ANYONE CHECK TO SEE IF WE HAD PAID TO USE THE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION. It's ok though, I guess subsidies paid for it. That's what ridiculous marginal taxes are for, right? Freeloading tourists? #Republican. I digress, we also were unable to use the card for discounts at the souvenir shop because we tried to go on a Sunday- rookie mistake. It's Europe! People don't work on Sundays, silly! #Republican. 

The next stop on our adventure was OBVIOUSLY coffee, for which we decided to make our way to Aldstrass, the old town. Aldstrass was beautiful. Tall stone and brick buildings, with large red flags offset the clear blue skies. The city was still waking up, and just a few others wondered around. We gravitated towards the Rhine River, where we were taken aback by its beauty and the history. Giddily, we wandered around until we found the perfect cafe- One with a good street view, per request of Christina. This quest led us to a perfectly quaint outdoor market. As we sat down for coffee, we looked around at the others joining us on this delightful morning. Couples, families, and friends sat around us. Then we made the astute observation that they were all drinking beer. Sorry, what? We had just ordered our four macchiatos, feeling like huge rejects because we still needed our caffeine injections, and had not yet moved onto the alcohol portion of the day (though we weren't as far from that as we thought). We drank coffee, made a plan, and then walked around the market. I almost wept with joy. If there's anything I hold sacred in the world its food and flowers. This market had both! In epic proportions! Christina walked over at one point with a bag of figs, so naturally I beelined to the cheese counter and bought the strongest goat cheese they had for a midday snack later on. 

After exploring the market and tempting our senses with the kaleidoscope of flowers, cheese, candy, sausages, and pastries, we headed onto to our first scheduled item: A tour of the Rhine Tower. 

We practically skipped to the Rhine Tower, we were so happy and so in love with Dusseldorf. Behold this walk as the time where DUSSELDORF THE MUSICAL was born. We went to the tower, and took the elevator up 167 floors (almost as high up as our room in the hostel). The tower had a panoramic view of the Rhine, circling and rotating like a clock. From the tower, we could see all of the city we had already fallen so in love with. As we circled the tower, we saw the industrial plants, the harbors and marinas, the farms with grazing sheep, homes stacked high and grouped, sweet cobblestone streets, and parks with little dots, no doubt lovers, walking hand in hand in the morning sun. We also saw a bar. And so moved by the wonders of Dusseldorf, we treated ourself to a bottle of champagne. We went back to the "Pimp Room" (trademark Sarah) to enjoy our Porseco and the view. 

A little bit tipsy, we continued our musical/ day with a walk to the art museum. We stopped outside and had a snack aka Christina and I feasted like queens on our figs and goat cheese. Am I the happiest girl in the world? I've often thought so, and I've never been contradicted, so..? The art museum was pretty cool, but I really didn't like the layout. That sounds so snobby, but seriously, if a museum is poorly laid out, it's so much more difficult to enjoy! A little tired and a little weirded out by too much modern art, we decided something more lighthearted was in order. We went to the shopping street, mostly too see a "mossy bridge" we fixated on in our guidebook. We took some pictures and marveled at some fancy cars, and then decided to find dinner. One condition: Sausage. 

We found the sausage. In fact, I almost ordered potato soup with sausage and then for my entree sausage and potatoes, without even realizing that is was LITERALLY THE SAME THING only in reverse order. I would like to give Christina a shout out for eloquently pointing out the absurdity of such a selection and stopping me from ordering it. After an amazing dinner and an even better dessert, we went back to the hostel, got ready, drank mini wine bottles, and went back out. Now, Aldstrass claims to have the longest bar in Europe. That sounds cool, right? Here's the thing.. Leuven also makes that claim so..... I'm gonna let you finish Dusseldorf, but Leuven definitely wins. For the record. 

Anyway, we went to our first bar, based solely on the large male population that had congregated outside it. We got out drinks and stood at one of the high tops outside. Our first visitors were a man and woman. The man looked so intently at Kaitlynn that the woman freaked out, they had a screaming match in German that we really got the general gist of, and then they left. Left so quickly in fact, that they left a beer there. A treat for us? Sure, thanks sir! This was only the first free drink of our night, as the awkward couple (if they're still a couple) was replaced by a group of German boys. 

Now I know a few words in German. I know that Morgen means Morgan. (and let me tell you, there is nothing I love more than hearing and seeing my name all over the place). I know that Schatz is a term of endearment. And I know how to count up to three, which are the only numbers you really need to know because you drink on three, Eins, zwei, Drei g'suffa!) So when the four of them counted themselves and then us four girls, I could tell what was up. We spent the rest of the night half talking and half laughing at our inability to talk to each other. They bought us drinks all night though, which really really helped with staying on budget. They laughed at my name and then took great joy in telling me that Schatz mean treasure, or my dear. You can tell me that anytime German men. 

The next morning, we went to church. The church was small but elaborate and majestic, and even though we didn't understand mass, there's something so heartwarming about knowing that all over the world, Catholics gather with one heart to celebrate the Eucharist. Appreciative and renewed, we continued our day... with STARBUCKS! Talk about appreciative and renewed- I had my first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season!! Guten Morgen indeed! We then went to a palace, where we goofed off, taking weird pictures for a while, letting off some energy before we were cooped up on the bus back to Belgium, where we would have to face studying for our midterm the next day. Yeah. 

The days fly by here. Class, intern, intern, class, travel & repeat. It's exhausting, but so much fun. I couldn't ask for a better experience. It's already been three weeks! 

Tradition, Bookies, and Stalking

Being in another country is all about learning new cultures and traditions. You can see another way of life while abroad, and if you're lucky, you can take some of those experiences back home with you. This is what makes people the better for travel. I'd like to share some of the traditions I've encountered since I've been here. 

Two of the main traditions I've personally established are: 

1. Bumping my head on my slanty attic ceiling at least twice a day.

2. Slamming my knee into the booby trap that is my bed post. Bruises to prove it. 

(If I'm lucky I won't take these traditions back home)

A more legitimate one: Umbrella EVERYWHERE I GO. And sunglasses. And rain boots. And flats. The rain in Leuven falls mostly, everywhere.

The twenty minute walk to the train station is a tradition I won't mind losing. I have quickly adapted to having to dodge buses and bikers. I am now accepting bets on whether a bike or bus will hit me first, if anyone is looking for a humorous alternative to fantasy football. 

There are some traditions I'd like to establish from here on out. For instance, why do people walk past chocolate stores without getting chocolate? It's Belgium damn it!

I'd also like to set a personal goal. Through my professional stalking capabilities, I would like to find someone who went to high school with my Member of Parliament. He went to Brandywine High School and was born in 1964. If anyone knows anyone who fits that criteria, please let me know. 

XOXO

Hallo European Union!

This week, I've confronted both French and Flemish, in Leuven and Brussels. Since arriving in Leuven, I've had this impression that I'm only aware of 25% of what's going on around me. For example, because I can't understand what people around me are saying, I feel as though I have free reigns to say and do what I want in public. Like on the 30 minute commute to Brussels on Saturday afternoon where Kaitlynn, Sarah, Christina, and I talked nonchalantly about human trafficking. Who wants to here that? I've also felt like I can dance and make random noises all over the place. 

Over the weekend, I finally felt like I was grasping a little bit of the fact that I'm not living a fake life. I even caught onto a few words. Winkle means store. I think. My favorite Flemish phrase is NACHTWACHT. I'm really not sure what it means but it's fun to say in a really guttural ( and probably really offensive tone). It's also the name of the store that sells wine past 6:00pm. What, Morgan? 6:00pm? How quaint and European! No. It gets old quick. We've made friends with the Nachtwacht man though. He sold us a corkscrew. I don't think he sells them. We haven't sprung for the hairdryer, but like priorities, right?

Apparently, it's not true immersion with only two languages you don't know though! Today was the first day of our internship! I got up at 6:30a.m. to get ready. I headed down for breakfast, only to see a group of kids I had been going out with every night for the past week suddenly look so respectable and functional in the real world. It felt like we were all going on a field trip as we crammed onto the train together. When we got off the train, we saw that we were not the only ones making our way into the Alberto Spinelli building. I turned to Sarah, and asked if she felt like we were going into the Ministry of Magic. For all I knew and was expecting, we seriously could have been. As I turned through the revolving door, my stomach was doing some spinning of its own. I was so nervous! We walked in the door, and our program director told me that since I was to start at 9:15, I would be the first one to call my office to come fetch me. Considering 25 of my new housemates/ eating mates/ classmates/ party mates were right behind me, I made the call. Then I realized that when my guy came to get me, I would have absolutely no idea who he was. 

He came down the stairs and walked over to my program director, who then introduced us. As I reached out my hand to make his acquantice and he didn't even notice, I wondered for the 400th time this week how old I'll have to be before I can go one whole day without embarrassing myself. I left my friends downstairs and headed up to the 10th floor, once again packed up- this time in an elevator. The close quarters were not nearly as uncomfortable and smothering as the 5 different languages bouncing off the close corners. 

I was in the office for all of 5 minutes before my boss told me I would be going to a committee meeting. I grabbed my bag as we went from the 10th floor to the third floor and then somehow ended up going from the E block to the G block, which means a whole different building. What? I guess when there are over 750 MEP's alone, you need a lot of space. So I'm in this crazy room at the end of what I can only say was a maze, when my boss gives me a program and tells me that I can "ring him to collect me" after the meeting. What? I'm here? You're not? Meeting? Europe? Parliament? I sent my mom a frantic email while I waited for the meeting to commence, only after realizing that it was about 3a.m. in Delaware. Nervous and not knowing what to do, I looked around like a crack head looking for her dealer. Then! Down the hall, came CHRISTINA! I don't think I've ever been so happy to see her! We went in together and tackled our first European Union Committee meeting: The Eastern Partnership and its Multilateral Platforms- what impact. These seemed so official and so daunting. But I found a perfect way to lighten the mood, when I opened my laptop to a Desktop Background of Lana Del Rey seductively winking in front of a huge American flag. Hello European Union! After figuring the important things, like that coffee was delivered to us and that channel 2 meant English (um thank God!), we sat in and took notes like 2 dorky politics interns on the first day of work. Oh, sorry Latvia, you meant you didn't want your notes verbatim?

When my meetings were finished, I went back upstairs and started reading a 92 page handbook on the European Parliament!!!!!!!!! This would have been bearable if I had any sort of distractions, but alas. The other two guys in my office spoke Latvian the whole time, so it's not even like I could have any idea what was going on around me. It was just me and my 92 pages of logistics and procedures. It's a very isolating feeling to be in the same room as other people and have no idea what's going on around you. 

I asked my office a million questions, to the point where I might have annoyed them. They told me that over the course of the semester, I would largely be focusing on the European Partnership, which is totally ok with me. I did more research on that for the rest of the day. A lot of the objectives focused on bringing about democracy and trying to bring the Eastern states up to European standards. This was a real life scenario of bringing human condition into its best by means of political work aka everything I love about politics. I'm very excited to be involved in this project. I'm even more excited because a lot of these relations have to do with Russia, and this just may be the closest my infatuation every gets to Russia! I keep mentally saying the Soviets, so I should probably chill with that. I also have this urge to introduce myself as a Latvian serf, which I should definitely chill with. My coworkers seem really awesome though, and I'm looking forward to the remainder of the semester. 

Oh, want the key to impressing your foreign office on your first day?!? Tell them the first trip you're going on is Amsterdam! This weekend!!!!!! Then ramble about Anne Frank when they bring up "the night life".

P.S. There was ice cream at dinner and wine after. Happy Intern Day! 

I'm Alive !

Welkom! 

That means Welcome in Dutch. 

I still have no concept of the fact that I'm here, but the adrenaline is running strong. I'll take it from the top. I did the whole packing thing mostly on Friday and Saturday. Mostly Saturday. I went back and forth the entire time between being so proud of myself and hating myself for how much stuff I had. 

I would like to split my packing life into three sections for you. 

1. Things I needed to bring

- sour gummy worms

- intern gear

- rain gear

- my Senate shot glass 

- adapters

- 12 pairs of shoes apparently 

- my mini German beer mug on a necklace #Oktoberfest

2. Things I wish I could bring

- caution tape

- my bed

- my pillows

- my bed

- my bed

- my bed

- my bed

- money 

- my Philadelphia Union gnome

3. Things I really don't need to bring or even own

- my senior prom bouquet

- my camouflage "American Rider" vest

So in the end, I fit everything into 2 suitcases and a carryon. And a backpack. At least I thought I did until I got to the airport and put these things on the weigh station. First Bag: I'm not even telling you. Sorry. Second Bag: Also overweight. After proclaiming that my scales at home were wrong, I shimmied over to the side and started taking stuff out of my suitcase. In these circumstances, some things may have been better to get rid of than others. For example, instead of bringing my hairdryer and curling iron, WHICH DON'T EVEN WORK, I should have brought the Sperry's that I hastily got rid of on the airport floor. I actually sat on the floor of the Philadelphia Airport taking turns weighing things on the suitcase scale to decide which sweaters were not going to get passport stamps. I also tied my sneakers to my backpack- which made me look super athletic. Didn't hate it. May or may not have said to Sarah in the customs line a little loudly, "A I'M GOING TO EUROPE TO TRAIN FOR THE OLYMPICS!" Maybe I'll uphold that and use it to make new friends. But like not too good of friends because then I think they'd figure out that I'm definitely never going to be in the Olympics for anything. 

Ze Aeroplane

Walk on with a big smile on my face, roller carryon in tow, ready to sit in my seat and enjoy the ride in. I had selected my window seat when I bought the ticket, and my mom told me that morning that she didn't think anyone was sitting next to me. Well, someone was sitting next to me. And she asked if I wanted to switch seats with her so she could sit next to her husband. In the center seat of the center row. I said no thanks. I don't know how she thought that I would be willing to do that for a 7+ hour flight. Like if it was her and her three year old child, yes- I would have made the switch. But homegirl is like 3 times my age wanting me to surrender a window seat......... 

Well the person who actually had the middle seat found it similarly undesirable and opted to sit next to me instead. So I'm sitting next to a young ginger man now, and I attempt to make conversation. He was from Belgium and not very chatty, as it is. He sat perfectly still the entire flight. I'm was adjusting, jumping around, not eating my green beans - in short just a small child on a plane. I thought I was so old navigating the airport by myself. Nothing really messes that up like eating a whole bag of sour gummy worms instead of a human meal. We navigated the airport and getting home better than I thought we would be able to. With the exception of my 2 suitcases trying to push me down the escalator to my sudden death. I prevailed though. We met two other people from our program at the airport, waiting for the train. We recognized them as being from our program when we saw a girl go to sit down on a luggage rack and then topple over onto the floor. Shout out. On the train from Brussels to Leuven, I was alarmed by how similar it looked to home- I expected different trees. You know when you go somewhere tropical you know you're there because of the palm trees? I wanted the same thing. There should be a Europe tree. The 4 of us fit our hmm maybe 10 bags into a taxi with a driver who didn't speak English. But here we are! 

I now live in a little European attic with slanted ceilings and sky windows. These sky windows come in especially handy because I don't have WiFi in my room, so that's how I'm checking the weather! Hint: it's usually raining. We've gone out both nights we've been here so far. We live within walking distance of Oude Markt, which is the longest strand of bars in Europe. Without even knowing the name of the bar, the first one we went to was called T' Begin. As the Stella brewery is within smelling distance, I ordered a Stella as my first abroad beer. I also stole a coaster. We went to 2 other bars on the first night and set a goal of going to all of them throughout the semester. The students don't get here until Sunday, so we're expecting it will only get more fun. I mean, there are 1 Euro Waffle Shots, so I don't know how anything could go wrong on this. 

I got my internship assignment yesterday! At dinner, I announced that I wanted an ex- USSR country, mostly because  I support the proliferation of Cold War Jokes. In a display of my psychic powers, I have... LATVIA! With a Christian Democrat! Who calls Philly his second home! Boss status.

Classes are 2.5 hours long, but made bearable by a 20 minute coffee break. Yeah. Don't hate that. 

Our meals are prepared by chefs and have been amazing so far. We sorted out the gluten thing. One down side of the meals - set times. And there haven't really been GF desserts, which I mean I guess maybe it's a good thing, if you think about it like that. 

I haven't had waffles, french fries, or chocolate yet.. I'll get there I promise! 

Today we toured the Stella Artois Brewery - the largest brewery in the world. We got to wear neon Stella vests the whole time, so I was in heaven with that. I stole a coaster.

Questions, Questions*, Vragens

With my trip to Belgium close enough  that I can see my arrival weather in the 

5 day forecast, I'm definitely getting a wee bit angsty. 

Common symptoms of this abroad preparation stage include, but are not limited to:

- Retorting that you hate politics and foreign nations (an issue if you're interning for the EU....)

- Claiming you don't feel like studying abroad right now (umm too late, girlfriend) 

- Stuffing shirts into boots (all 3 pairs)

- Wanting to buy out all Candy Corn and Pumpkin Spice Lattes in reach (is that a thing over there?)

At this stage, the common worry-filled student may also entertain a myriad of questions about her upcoming trip. 

- SHOULD I BRING "FEMININE PRODUCTS" WITH ME?
- DOES CHRISTINA SNORE?
- IF I STOP EATING NOW WILL I BE SKINNY ENOUGH TO GO TOPLESS IN THE SOUTH OF FRANCE, SHOULD THE NEED OCCUR?
- DO EUROPEAN GIRLS GET PIMPLES?
- SHOULD I PACK A HALLOWEEN COSTUME?
- WHERE IS MY AMERICAN FLAG BANDANNA?
- DO THEY LIKE STRIPES IN EUROPE?

FuN FaCt: The Crying Girl Meme was a girl going abroad. 

* According to Google Translate, 

the French word for "Questions" is "Questions". 

Yes, this totally killed my creative title idea. 

P.S. Burn by Ellie Goulding

A Few Steps Forward & a Big Step Back

In the past few days, I've made a lot of progress in preparing for my trip. Of course that progress has been made largely under duress, coming from both my mother and the ever ticking clock (in military time! Sike, I haven't mastered that yet; I'm still working on solving circle clocks before the time changes on me.)  I digress- PROGRESS. 

• We booked a trip to Dublin!!! Cheers! Slainte! 
• Let it be noted that this booking was not made without considerable panicking on my part. I made my mom sit with me the entire time. Let it be noted that this booking was not made without error. Thinking we were being resourceful by leaving from the Brussles Charleroi airport on a day we'll be interning in Brussels, we booked it for 18 o clock. (I almost booked it for 6:45 before I realized that this would have been AM). ANYWAY Ryanair deceived us- Brussels Charleroi airport is apparently not so much in Brussels, and it looks like us little American interns will have to be taking off work a little early that day- somehow I think that Europe is more than a little used to that... Yeah Greece, I went there. (May the internet gods not let a Greek MEP see that during my internship). 
• I began PACKING!!! 
• This actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I did all my corporate ish and made my way through the closet. Brussels has decided it would go through a wee bit of a heat wave right about now, and it's really throwing of my game. I had just convinced myself to limit shorts/ sundresses/ everything holy. 
• I did some SHOPPING!!! 
• I've been able to cross quite a few things of my list, which has been solid. I'm wondering if I should be buying everything a size smaller though since I'm going to be too poor to eat while abroad. I will make the exception for french fries and chocolates- for the sake of immersing myself in Belgian Culture. Sorry if my worldliness intimidates you. 
• Important historical side note: French Fries were born in Belgium. 
• Important Morgan side note: I was born to eat French Fries in Belgium. 

So those all seem like really productive steps and you're probably like, "Morgan you have clothing AND the promise of French Fries, I think you're ready to hop on the plane." 

However, I think I've taken a step back. Maybe like a leap back. I don't know; I haven't assessed the damage yet. This past weekend was my last full weekend in the U S of A, so naturally I had to make my way down to the D of C. It was a perfect weekend and a perfect way to end my time here. But it also made me not ready to end my time here. As summer progressed, I became distanced from my DC/CUA life enough that it was ok to not be there for a semester. But going back for the weekend and seeing campus & friends & THE COFFEE SUPPLY IN THE PRYZ & Program Board flyers that I didn't make & & & & & &  showed me all the fun I would be missing over the semester. 

I know that I'm going to have a fabulous time, but the FOMO is real- don't be fooled. 

A big part of my step back was saying my goodbye to Kristen. I already don't like that she had her first first day of school without me the other day. Next thing you know, it's goodbye. Next thing you know, you're crying in Target because you see a 21st Birthday card and realize you won't be there for her birthday. 

Thanks to everyone who made my CUA visit so much fun. Special shout out to White Person 1 & 2.