One time I went to India. It took 51 hours.
I feel awkward when I can't understand Indian people.
We are going shopping soon.
I don't like Indian food. Good excuse to diet.
Driving in India is c-c-c-crazy!
I really like the classes. When I can understand the profs, anyways
Monday, May 30, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
say wha
I wouldn't call myself a travel virgin or anything. Still very inexperienced, I guess.
Anyways, I HATE FLYING. I hate it. I’m not scared of it. I just hate it. I think it stems from when I flew to Calgary for the Stampede with Jenna and Lynn. Well, Jen and Lynn were on another flight. I was all by myself. I did not have friends. I did not have an Ipod. I did not have a magazine. I was too cheap to pay three dollars to get ear buds for the movies. I did not have a watch. Anyways, eventually the woman beside me said, “do you want my magazine?” Lynn makes fun of me for that. This is not that interesting of a paragraph. I realize that now.
Lynn and Jen want to go down south and then to Calgary again next year. Because of this India trip I don’t think I’ll have the funds to do it and that makes me sad. But I mean, it’s India! Even though I've never been "down south" but I'm assuming it would be everything I've seen in photos. Tacky braids and cheap rum and coconut bikinis. I love the beach here at home though (as long as my towel is big enough to hide my body). So yeah, once I have a successful job and cute fiancé and no kids I'll plan a trip to Mehico. But not right now.
What scares me is that while I have been a few places in the world (look at this photo of me in Europe with the beautiful sister. WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING WHY DID I HAVE THOSE CLOTHES ON IS THIS WHY BOYS DIDN’T KISS ME), is that I don’t really remember a lot. A lot of it just seems surreal. So while I don’t want to go to India and experience it just through a camera lens, I want to make an effort to take a million photos and write a diary and actually experience it all.
Yeah, so I hope India teaches me a lot. But I hope she's gentle.
Anyways, I HATE FLYING. I hate it. I’m not scared of it. I just hate it. I think it stems from when I flew to Calgary for the Stampede with Jenna and Lynn. Well, Jen and Lynn were on another flight. I was all by myself. I did not have friends. I did not have an Ipod. I did not have a magazine. I was too cheap to pay three dollars to get ear buds for the movies. I did not have a watch. Anyways, eventually the woman beside me said, “do you want my magazine?” Lynn makes fun of me for that. This is not that interesting of a paragraph. I realize that now.
Lynn and Jen want to go down south and then to Calgary again next year. Because of this India trip I don’t think I’ll have the funds to do it and that makes me sad. But I mean, it’s India! Even though I've never been "down south" but I'm assuming it would be everything I've seen in photos. Tacky braids and cheap rum and coconut bikinis. I love the beach here at home though (as long as my towel is big enough to hide my body). So yeah, once I have a successful job and cute fiancé and no kids I'll plan a trip to Mehico. But not right now.
What scares me is that while I have been a few places in the world (look at this photo of me in Europe with the beautiful sister. WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING WHY DID I HAVE THOSE CLOTHES ON IS THIS WHY BOYS DIDN’T KISS ME), is that I don’t really remember a lot. A lot of it just seems surreal. So while I don’t want to go to India and experience it just through a camera lens, I want to make an effort to take a million photos and write a diary and actually experience it all.
Yeah, so I hope India teaches me a lot. But I hope she's gentle.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Indian Turkey
I don't know how to form paragraphs and I'm comma-happy (I'm also parenthesis-happy) and I use too many clichés and ugly flowery language and I like run-on sentences. I'd really like for this "India" blog to be astute and well-written and professional though. So, if you guys would like my silly anecdotes of sexy times, embarrassing times, and drunk times then this is not the place for you. Instead you should read my other blog.
Although I do hope my experience in India will be filled with sexy, embarrassing, and drunk times.
Maybe I'll just spend a bit more time on the punctuation and spelling on this one blog. And I'll watch my language a bit so I don't fluster my mother.
SO.
I'm going to India in a month or so. Or at least I hope. I still have to fill out these papers and do an online course thing in order to go. But I imagine I'll get that done eventually.
I don't know if I want to go or not. See, I really like summers at home. I like crashing wedding dances of people I hardly know. I like singing to Taylor Swift in Lynn's car. I like getting burnt on the beach. I like making tips. I like ice cream at Gillis'. I like making out in the backseat at the drive-in. I heard a while back that they don't eat beef in India. Well I'll be damned. How can you go a summer without a barbecued steak?
I've experienced all that before though. And crying because of your permanent singleness in a bathroom stall at a random wedding dance isn't as fun as I used to think. And I mean, I'M GOING TO INDIA. I don't know about you but I've never been. I am happy that I'm going with an organized group rather than just backpacking it. It seems like going with the university will give me a better understanding of everything than what a Frommer's Travel Guide can give me. The class credits are great too. It's going to allow me to do my sociology honours and my psychology major in four years. Suh-weet! I'm going to make new friends (I hope...), and I'm going to learn so much and be more culturally aware and I'M GOING TO FRIKKIN' INDIA.
Get 'er in ta ya
Although I do hope my experience in India will be filled with sexy, embarrassing, and drunk times.
Maybe I'll just spend a bit more time on the punctuation and spelling on this one blog. And I'll watch my language a bit so I don't fluster my mother.
SO.
I'm going to India in a month or so. Or at least I hope. I still have to fill out these papers and do an online course thing in order to go. But I imagine I'll get that done eventually.
I don't know if I want to go or not. See, I really like summers at home. I like crashing wedding dances of people I hardly know. I like singing to Taylor Swift in Lynn's car. I like getting burnt on the beach. I like making tips. I like ice cream at Gillis'. I like making out in the backseat at the drive-in. I heard a while back that they don't eat beef in India. Well I'll be damned. How can you go a summer without a barbecued steak?
I've experienced all that before though. And crying because of your permanent singleness in a bathroom stall at a random wedding dance isn't as fun as I used to think. And I mean, I'M GOING TO INDIA. I don't know about you but I've never been. I am happy that I'm going with an organized group rather than just backpacking it. It seems like going with the university will give me a better understanding of everything than what a Frommer's Travel Guide can give me. The class credits are great too. It's going to allow me to do my sociology honours and my psychology major in four years. Suh-weet! I'm going to make new friends (I hope...), and I'm going to learn so much and be more culturally aware and I'M GOING TO FRIKKIN' INDIA.
Get 'er in ta ya
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)