Travel Series Part 1: Viking Strippers

I'm pretty sure Sean and I are on an international terrorist watch list as of last night. In the span of an hour we managed to book 4 flights to 3 different countries within the next 2 months (now THAT is some math I can handle). By the last transaction, our credit cards started weeping. One of them jumped right off the table and into the freezer where it plans to hide until Spring. But these things simply had to be done. Sean's Graduation in Ireland, going home for the holidays, a 3 day weekend in Amsterdam...okay, so technically the weekend in Amsterdam didn't have to be done but when the flight is only an hour long how can you resist? Back in Boston, it'd take me an hour just to remember where I parked my car the night before.

If you checked out my travel page, you realize how sadly lacking it is. I never blogged about my trips to Ireland, Italy, or Iceland (apparently I only like to visit countries that start with the letter I?), which is a shame because I have roughly 3298304835901298 pictures from those trips. I want to be sure to share the details of my past excursions before I embark on my new ones. Currently, I'm on a 3 hour break between classes at school. I am holed up in the library surrounded by art students who are all 5 years younger and infinitely hipper than I'll ever be. Also, the reality of the upcoming assignments I have just smacked me in the face today. hard. they left a handprint.

So what better time to escape into my past trips than now? Grab your passports and join me in Iceland...the land of moss covered moon rocks, reindeer burgers, and my arch nemesis: the Volcano that ruined my life. (that's a little dramatic but seriously, it sucked)

Our trip to Iceland was really just an 8 hour layover between Boston and London. A pitstop on the way to our new life.


I like to call this photo: I had a quarterlife crisis and now I sleep on airport benches like a homeless person. Alternative title: Mom and Dad, I need 20 bucks.

Overnight flights are never fun, particularly when accompanied by crying babies and a stewardess who uses my elbows for target practice with the drink cart, but Sean and I were so excited when we left the airport and started to see the sights of Iceland. (To be honest, I was on a secret mission to find Ekyjlykdlsfdvkdfjang and give it a piece of my mind. You don't scare me Volcano. So what if you spew liquid hot magma, I've got an amazing cocktail gown I never got to wear. and it's YOUR fault. Don't mess with me)





Iceland reminds me of the Moon, but green. We decided to spend our layover taking in the very best Iceland had to offer, by soaking in the Blue Lagoon hot springs.






A-mazingggggg. It was cold and rainy that day but it didn't matter. The hot springs are just that: hot. very very hot. Certain parts of the lagoon were around 104 degrees. There are bins of mud lining the edges of the lagoon for people to use. The combination of the mud and the steam from the water is supposed to be one of the best facials you can get. It was ironic that they sell tiny bottles of mud for like $75 back home, but here it was available by the bucketload.






The best part? The lagoon had a swim up bar! A swim up bar in a natural hot spring in the middle of Iceland?! It was like Sean and I were extras in a Kanye West sci-fi rap video.




yep. definitely like that. We are such hardcore gangsters. (sorry, gangstahs. yo.) But not as hardcore as this guy



Ladies, I'm pretty sure he's single. Try not to fight over him please.

All this lounging around in the hot springs, drinking bubbly, acting like Jay-Z and Beyonce left us famished for lunch





Reindeer burger or Mink Whale Wasabi anyone? Ehhhhhh. I stuck with champagne and Pringles...the lunch of champions. Europeans love their Pringles. They are sold everywhere, even in bars. Seems so strange to me, I hadn't eaten a Pringle since like 1999 before this trip. But you know what they say: Once you Pop, you just can't Stop!

After a shower and a few more Pringles, it was time to head back for the final leg of our journey to London. At the airport we ran into a couple our age that had the same layover and we asked them how they spent their time. They talked about how bored they were, how they wish they could've showered and how ugly downtown Reykjavik was. It took every ounce of my willpower and kindness not to shout out: ha! ha! Suckers!!!! we just had the BEST, most relaxing day ever!!!!!



But I figured getting punched in the face by cranky travelers probably wouldn't be the right start to my new life.

Final verdict: Would I go back to Iceland for a vacation? No. I would do another layover and spend the day at the spa, but I have no desire to spend several days there. It's like Vegas. I'd never save up money and spend a week in Vegas, but if I had to go there I'd make the most of it.

So in my professional opinion, Iceland is like Vegas, but with Vikings and Whale blubber instead of strippers and STDs. It's true. Conde Nast Traveler just wrote the same thing.

Sidebar: I tried googling "Vikings vs Strippers" to see if any good images would come up that I could use. I got no Vikings, but A LOT of strippers. Then I remembered I'm at school in the library...so now, not only am I the old American lady, but I'm the old American lady who is looking a pornographic images at school. Creep.

and on THAT note, I am slinking back to my flat to look up Viking Strippers in privacy. I'll let you know what I find.

Coming soon.... Travel Series Part 2: I ate Shrek's best friend.

Followed by.... Travel Series Part 3: Guinness is next to Godliness

Do as I say, not as I do

Kids, listen up. I've got a very important message for you.

Do not, under any circumstances, follow my lead that a diet consisting of chocolate and alcohol is good for you, because guess what? It's not.

If you act like me, you will end up with a fever, a bitchin' sinus infection, and a generally cranky disposition resulting in you having to use the adorable Halloween napkins your mother sent you from all the way across the Atlantic Ocean as tissues because you are too lazy/tired/sick/whiney to either go to the store for a box of Kleenex or down to the bathroom for a roll of toilet paper. (Is this TMI? Did I just cross a line? I might have)

and just in case that didn't scare you off...remember those ads on TV that used to say "this is your brain on drugs" and they'd either show an egg in a frying pan or some messed up lady with crack teeth? Well...

this is your blogger on cold medicine, 3 cups of tea and a stack of Halloween napkins


be afraid, be very afraid.

Let this be a warning to you...just because there are 21 year olds in your Master's program, doesn't mean you get to act like one. 26 is not the new 21.

30 days in London and I still haven't met the Queen

It's official, Sean and I have been expats in London for a month today! We arrived in London on September 24th, 2010. Coincidentally, we are getting married on September 24, 2011! So the 24th is a special day to us. This also means that we are getting married 11 months from today! woo hoo! I'm not sure what I'm more excited about: wearing my amazing wedding dress or the fact that I found someone who wants to put up with my shenanigans for all of eternity. (I'm not sure he's aware of what he's getting himself into) We also like to wonder about what September 24, 2012 will bring...we've decided it will be champagne and left over wedding cake. The only thing I want to wake up with on September 25, 2012 is a hangover. No babies yet, please.

It is amazing how quickly this past month has gone by. Despite my bout with homesickness last week, I've definitely restored my sense of faith in this crazy adventure I'm on. My friend from college, Becca, said it so well on her blog, she talked about how her confidence has skyrocketed since taking a new path in her life and as I read her post, I realized how true it was for me as well. I feel like I've already changed so much in my short time here, especially in terms of confidence.

Bear with me for a moment while I philosophize about everything, you will leave here a more serene, enlightened human being after I do. I'm sure of it. I invite you to sit cross legged and hold someone's hand if it helps. Perhaps light a lavender scented candle as well. (If not, there will be pictures to look at soon, I promise) I think the reason I have so much more confidence and gusto towards everything is because of this huge risk I've taken. I quit my job. I left my friends and family and moved to a foreign country I had never been to go back to school and jump start a new career. That gives me a small ulcer merely typing it, let alone actually doing it. and you know what? I am doing it. I'm surviving. No scratch that. I'm succeeding. After taking such a big leap off the metaphorical cliff and landing safely on my own two feet, I've become stronger. and bolder. I realize now if I want these things, I need to go for them. I need to take risks and put myself out there. With life, you get out of it what you put into it. So what am I putting into "life" lately? besides too many chocolate wrappers going into the recycling bin?

First, there is my running. You know this whole marathon thing? Definitely a side effect of the confidence boost. The mere fact that I had the cojones to sign up and do it instead of just talking about it is big. huge in fact. (please remind me of this repeatedly on March 5th when I'm having an anxiety attack and pretending to twist my ankle to get out of it)

Also, I ran my second 10k today and I beat my goal from last time! 6.2 miles in 48:55, average pace: 7:53! New PR, folks, new PR!

This is my "I want to vomit. Get that f-ing camera out of my face. Please. Love you." face

There was one point during the race when I *almost* convinced myself to quit. I started walking and gave up hope of beating my previous time, but luckily 10 seconds into walking, the real Marie kicked in and said "na uh girlfrieeennnnd. I don't think so, guuurl. Yo behind needs to hustle it up" When she speaks, you listen. So hustled I did. (and in case you were wondering, the voice inside my head speaks ebonics. she's awesome)




More importantly though, I didn't run this race alone. I ran it with strangers from the internet! Before you start calling Dateline to report me on To Catch a Predator, let me explain. I ran it with my blends. (blog + friends = blends. get it?) See, I'm not a creepy predator...just a bit of a blog dork. Okay I'm a pretty huge blog dork. I'd even go so far as to classify myself as a blog nerd or maybe a blog geek. I think the fact I am trying to classify levels of my weirdness alone shows you where I stand, mmmkay? Back to my blends:




Lauren, Ashley, and I are all Americans studying abroad in the UK. I stalked their blogs pretty majorly before coming over, so I was excited to meet them both in person and run the race together. We had a fantastic pasta party at Ashley's last night that included eating my body weight in baked ziti and apple pie.



I credit it for our success in the race today. All three of us PR'd!

Believe it or not, this was actually my 2nd blend activity of the month. A couple weeks ago I met up with Ashley and Anne, another American living here, for a few cocktails.


For me, this night was way more intimidating. I was downright nervous.It was like going on a blind date. I didn't know what to wear, I was worried I'd talk too much, I hoped when I left they'd call again to hang out. (Hey, I've already admitted what a nerd I am, all my cards are on the table, I might as well just continue with the verbal diahrrea and complety embarrass myself). It turned out to be a lot fun! There were many, many years in my past where I was so painfully shy, making new friends was difficult for me. Often times, my shy nature gets mistaken for a bitchy attidude and people can be turned off before they really get to know me so putting myself out there like this was a big step for me. * pat on back *

In the same vein, I also nominated myself to be the Course Rep for my Master's Program. My first official duty as Course Rep? I organized a Happy Hour at a pub in town. (Hi, my name is Marie and I might be an alcoholic.) I sent out a flurry of emails, told them I'd be the American sitting at the bar alone so they better all come, crossed my fingers, and hoped for the best. Roughly half the program showed up, which I think is a pretty decent turn out! I've always hated organizing social events in the past. It stresses me out...are people having fun? are they bored? did I pick the wrong place? But this time was different. I put it out there and figured whoever comes, comes and if they enjoy it, great, if not, oh well, I will. (that was A LOT of commas for one sentence. I'm positive that's not grammatically correct, either. apologies) Sadly, I don't have any pictures from our Happy Hour, so instead I'll provide you with pictures from Sean and I on the subway this morning. at 7:30 am. on a Sunday.




In our defense, the train was COMPLETELY empty.



My last expression of my newfound confidence? The pumpkins we carved this afternoon:





We wanted to pay homage to our recent travel adventures so I made the Union Jack (British flag) and Sean made a Guinness beer for his year in Ireland!

Okay so technically, carving a pumpkin doesn't really demonstrate any level of confidence or personal growth. Really, I'm just demonstrating my ability to brag about myself in as many ways as possible. However, I will argue that my newfound confidence allowed me to have excellent knife skills, providing my Union Jack-o-latern with its perfectly tuned edges. Yes? No? Ehhhh (Side note: Major kudos and shoutouts to my darling future husband for coming up with the term Union Jack-o-Latern. He's a clever one, that Sean.)

Seriously though, making new friends, running races, carving pumpkins. I'm a maniac. The only thing missing from this idyllic London life? Shipyard Pumpkin Ale and Duncan Hines Spice Cake mix. I cannot get either item in this country and it is killing me slowly. If you are reading this in the US, I want you to go out RIGHT NOW to your local store and buy these items. Buy them in bulk. Enjoy half of them and send the rest to me. I'll be waiting patiently by the mail box so don't let me down.