tomorrow's itinerary: night flight to summer 2010

If I had a sitcom, one of my catchphrases could be "I call SHANanigansssss" and all the other characters would frown at me disapprovingly. I would be that guy. . . ....I feel like somebody would tell me right about now, "Shan, you already are that guy."

No judgment please, but I am in the mood to watch one of those old Mary Kate and Ashley movies where they TRAVEL ABROAD. You know what I'm talkin bout. Oh my God, I really might download one. I can't even remember which ones I've seen. They're all roughly the same anyway except the locale changes--Australia, Italy, London, blah blah. ((HOLD ON, POP CULTURE EMERGENCY, my 18 year old brother's talking to me right now and he doesn't know who Katy Perry is. What?)

So I'm traveling tomorrow. Again. I like to do that. Actually between my LA excursion, hoboing around at Rutgers, going to Connecticut avec Jackie for a weekend of chillaxatives, und zees, zees beeeing a trip to North Carolina, I have been relatively busy and entertained. Relatively. Since the beginning of this year my room has been in a constant state of chaos, caused by repeated wardrobe analysis and packing. See, my 2010 really is proving to be a fantastic travel year.

So! I'm going to visit my pals over at Duke, who I met last summer in Germany :) :) :) I booked a round trip flight from Newark last minute for a reasonable $140, and it takes just a bit longer than an hour and a half to get there. I'm of course stoked to see mah people againnn (it's been like... 8 months? sacre bleu!) but I've also never been to North Carolina before, and I'm always eager to check another state off my list. Or rather, that's something I started telling myself the summer my family went on a road trip to Michigan. Passing through Ohio. To be honest, I was not a huge fan of Ohio.

Actually, if I think... if I really try to imagine seeing all of those guys again, I get really ridiculously excited. I said before, what was it?--if I could crush that summer in Berlin into a powder and snort it, I'd be happy the rest of my life. But everybody who travels knows that a place is only as good as the people you meet and the company that you keep. Berlin was great because it was Berlin, but also because I had these great people to drink with at wine bars. And eat schwarma. And go to the zoo. And get rejected that one time at that really popular overpacked full-of-itself asshole club that hates Americans. And get yelled and told to move while laying on the grass outside of a palace, which I suppose was still part of the general palace... property. (See pertaining photos)

Do you suppose it's maybe inappropriate to put any pictures of people on here without their consent? Ermmm... Anyway! I hope to do a lot of reminiscing down there. Hahaha. Well, for now I have to worry about packing... I am really tired of packing, to be honest. Even if it's for a mere couple of days, meh, I don't want to deal with it. C'est la traveling vie. (mon Dieu,I need to get on the French thing. This is just sad.)

rain, rain

It's pouring outside and it's just so beautiful and soothing and it's another little taste of the spring that is to come.

my bon voyage party!

Today I painted my nails, unfortunately. I realized too late the nail polish color looks like it could be called Prostitute Pink or Pepto Biznatch. While it beats out a shade I once saw and described as Glitter Poop (alternative: Ke$ha Poop), I still feel a deep regret in my soul. Yes, I can just remove the polish. And no, I won't, because I've made my choice and even though it makes me nauseous, I feel kind of obligated to see it through, like a lot of my meals, or college.

Parenthetically I think nail painting is pretty dumb; I decided maybe a year ago it was one of those things I just didn't need to waste my time doing anymore, like dying my hair (dye free since '08). You know why? I will proceed to tell you why. Weirdly they both make you look (arguably) more polished and pretty, but only for a little while. And then they make you look worse. Immaculate nails say I am put together, but then that first chip comes in and before long you look like the sad shell of a woman who is probably too busy and stressed to bother with her nails. Roots coming in can also look pretty offensive.

Meh, these nails are obnoxious. They're ruining my blog focus.

I am going to now change the topic. So! A long time ago I must have made some weird pact with the devil, the details of which I can't remember, because I have an awful memory (speculative: maybe those were terms of the agreement?? I would give up my ability to remember things?). I know this had to have happened as, inexplicably, there are people in my life who care about me and fill my life with happiness, even though I kind of bring nothing to the table friendship-wise. I was talking to excellent friend and fellow trailblazer Alex about this and actually said, in earnest, "I don't know how I have friends. I don't have a boat." Not only do I not have a boat, I don't have a hot tub either. Worthless!

But life works in mysterious ways. I dunno. Nonetheless I have friends, proof being that they arranged a bon voyage party for me last Saturday! Isn't that the best? Although I am ignoring the fact that it was a month premature and does that mean they're in a hurry to get rid of me??? but really they are such dears, darlings, very kind of them. Yes yes.

Russia, gay Mexico, India, France, Egypt

    The theme--why bother to have a party without one? SERIOUSLY, WHY BOTHER?--was something like "partying around the world." In other words, an "errybody dress up in offensively stereotypical costumes representing different countries" party! In other other words, MY IDEAL PARTY.

The German beer maid costume I wore on Halloween would have been "too easy" and too repetitive, so instead I decided to go for a probably offensive approximation of a person from India. It was great. Not to get all Eat Pray Love but India is at the top of my list of places I want to visit. Additionally the costume enabled me to a) perform my own (again probably offensive) approximation of Bollywood dancing, and b) occasionally speak in an entertaining (and definitely offensive) Indian accent.

So, we spent the night doing awesome things like dancing in the manner of MC Hammer and playing the UN version of survivor flipcup. **highly recommended

Agata got a little crepe paper happy

And you really can't beat that.

"Shan in Japan" today, "Shan in France" tomorrow?

Hmm it's been a little while since I've talked about my impending trip to Japan. Well now. The latest news with that is... for starters, it's looking like my flight (and my mother's--she's coming with and sightseeing a week) will be booked soon, and I also don't believe I will be taking any side trip to the Philippines. So that is slightly disappointing, naturally. But we couldn't figure out a way to do it without spending a fortune. And did you know that flights in Japan are crazy expensive in August (when I'll be returning)? It's a madcap time for travel there.

But there's no way I'll have to wait another twenty years before seeing the Philippines, right? And when I do go I want my mom to be there with me--I think that's the most important thing. For me the whole point of it is to understand my mom's past and the place she lived for like, 27 years. To literally and not-so-literally understand where she comes from, and get some insight into this woman who gave birth to me and has marked me with her fingerprints. Whatever else I could get out of it would be icing on the proverbial cake (acceptable icing: the gorgeous white beach of Boracay).

Second matter of business is housing news: I have four chicas as roommates. Two Japanese girls, a Thai girl, and a French girl. It feels weird to think I am the "American" one. That can't be very exciting for them, having an American thrown into the mix. Nothing exotic about that. But I'm very thrilled to be living with them, and I just know I'm going to bug all of them with questions about languages and cultures. The French girl better watch out too, I have to say, because I've officially chosen Francais as the Next Language I Will Learn. Whenever that will be.

The overwhelming impression I get is that it's a real betchface of a language to learn, which I don't doubt, but I'm also a little bit nuts... so who's to say it wouldn't work out for me? Un deux trois! Even their numbers are fun to say. In German you can describe the weather with "es regnet" or "es ist sonnig", which sounds so boring. But with French your mouth almost spits out the words "il pleut" morosely, pregnant with ennui, as though you were a disaffected youth plucked out of Paris. And then if you utter the words "il fait du soleil!" it's as though you've morphed into Amélie herself, and everything tastes wonderful and nostalgic like champagne at sunset.

You know how I know I need to learn French? The French are responsible for champagne's existence. Done and done.

I wish I had taken up French earlier, but it is never too late for anything. Anyway, studying France/Francais is definitely interesting coming from a German background--as neighbors, they have quite the past, and they both are responsible for so many of the world's great thinkers. But even the Japan-France tie is compelling. You get into things like Japonisme or writings like Madame Chrysanthème, from which inspiration was drawn to create Madama Butterfly. Also very interesting (to moi): the Japanese love crepes. Love 'em. As do I. Really, they are serious dessert and pastry connoisseurs over there; I'm just as excited about trying their stuff as I was in Vienna.

Hello Kitty gets shwasted off this shiat

Oh God, talking about various countries' desserts deserves an entry of its own.

Ooh! I just remembered something. I bought two bottles of some really girly, flower-y sparkling sake called "Hana Awaka." Picked it up, along with some made-in-Okinawa beer, from Mitsuwa marketplace, the Japanese haven in Edgewater, NJ (I love that place. It is my happy place). But really, how could I have forgotten?? I should have brought that to Rutgers last weekend.

There were oodles of alcoholic beverages in really neat bottles. One bottle looked like nothing less than a science experiment ready to go.

But, as usual, I digress...

"Shan Nayyar" does not really have a ring to it

Good: I woke up at 7:15 today
Bad: I have been laying around in PJ pants watching season 4 of The Big Bang Theory. Drats.
Well, it's been that, along with looking at the twitter accounts of some of the TBBT cast members (God, I hate when I start looking at twitter accounts. Last week I was trapped in the tweet vortex of Community's Donald Glover).

Okay okay, I was primarily creeping on Kunal Nayyar, whose unfortunate wardrobe on the show betrays the fact that he's actually smokin'. Actually his wardrobe really is upsetting because it's so sweater vest heavy (and nothing makes me swoon like some sweater vest action, am I right ladies?) but it's always clashy on purpose, and they layer him up bulkily. I think concealing goodlookingness (see: Matt Damon in The Informant) and abusing sweater vests are among the GREATEST OFFENSES in the world, but I understand that they're dressing a character. A character that likes Bridget Jones' Diary, I might add.

Yasee, what happened was, after watching however many episodes of the show, I came to the epiphany that "Dr. Rajesh Koothrappali" is actually crazy crazy adorable, did my internet creeping, and then I delighted in the fact that my suspicions were totally correct. There are few things more satisfying than being proved right. But I'm also aware of the fact that I'm gushing like a little girl, so I will promptly desist.

Right after I express that for years I have been convinced there's no way an Indian accent could ever be sexy. I thought it was one of those universal truths like Cheese Improves All Foods. So now I'm biting my tongue, and conceding the fact that sometimes being proved wrong feels so right.

Okay, lastly an actor-y soundbite from the dude, who was born in London, raised in New Delhi, and moved to the US for college. "...I'm this world citizen stuck in the middle. You're always one foot in, one foot out. I've traveled the world; I can speak different languages. I get along with everyone, every single culture, but that's one thing I've found about myself, that I'm always slightly stuck in between." Ahah, see how I somehow managed to make girly gushing fit in with my blog's credo?