Czech Yo-Self

Ok, so firstly, patent pending on the Czech Yo-Self. I'm going to Prague and selling t-shirts. They had "Czech me out" of which I bought a shot glass, but still, I am going to make bank on this. So back off!

After coming back from Russia I moved into my new house, which I love. My host brother and sister are so funny. I watched the Bayern-Munchen/Man United game with my host brother. Trash talking in German is one of the best phenomenons that have been invented. Because "I love you" in German sounds like trash talk. Actual trashing coming from ten year old lips, it's like the nectar of the gods.

So, after relaxing (and writing a lot of papers) for the first half of the week, Thursday morning I left for Prague via train. Last time I was in Germany, I booked the train from Leipzig to Berlin, and I reserved a seat for like 8 extra euro, but the train was empty. SO I assumed it was just a complete scam. It might have been smarter, however, to consider that it was EASTER WEEKEND and that people would be flocking to visit their relatives. So the first leg of the trip, I spent sitting in the aisle way on top of my Vera Bradley luggage. Cool. So needless to say, I arrived in Prague a little cranky and sore. But when I got to my hostel, "the Czech Inn" which I chose, in all honesty, solely for the pun, I saw Andrew Walchuk and the heavens parted and the sun came out and I was so happy and excited. It's been 8 months. We could have gestated a baby almost. And we might. Still.

Traveling with Andrew was perfect. We were both completely open to anything. So Thursday evening we just wondered about the square, and there was this huge Easter market with artisans (a very good looking blacksmith) and painted Easter eggs, and all kinds of sausage and bread and candies. Also, we went into this restaurant, and I had 1/4 of a duck...with beer, bread, and apple streudel and cream for desert, for like 6 euros. Yay for the former Soviet Bloc and their reasonable prices (due to their probably still depressed economy but we won't dwell). Also, that Thursday night, I was walking along and I saw the most impressive array of handle-bar mustaches in the form of a group of older British men. So I naturally said, "Those are some fine looking mustaches." And they said, "Well then gorgeous, let's have this bloke your with take a picture." So forever I will associate Prague with British men and mustaches. Which you know, there could be worse associations definitely. When Andrew and I got back to the hostel bar we thoughorly enjoyed the 1 dollar beer happy hours and we met these three really pretensious guys from Boston, all blueblood brothers, and we went out and partied with them at this random spot complete with hip happening music...from 2004.

The next day, lest you all think I have no culture, Andrew and I went to churches, Prague castle, and wondered around the Jewish synagogues. The Jewish ghetto in Prague is so beautiful and well preserved, it's like nothing you've seen in Europe. Which incidently doesn't really have a high Jewish population anymore...weird. Oh wait, I know why that might be. Then after spending so much time on culture, Andrew and I decided to do the pub crawl. Which was insane. All you drink absyth shots, beer, etc for a low price of 14 Euros. We met these British guys and I ended up hanging out with them for most of the trip, especially after Andrew left. Our meeting came about because they were wearing cardigans...and I went up to them and said, "you know only British men wear cardigans. I bet your from Britain." Right I was, so I think I ended up offending them, which is ok. Because we were friends by the end of the night.

After a delcious breakfast at Bohemian bagel, Andrew and I went to the dancing house and just walked along the river and talked about Andre. It was a really nice low-key day. And in the evening, Andrew didn't want to go too big, but I convinced him to go to this "video party 80s and 90s night" which played crappy old music videos and was sooooooo fun. We went with the Brits and got up and danced on stage. And there was this guy there that was obviously a serial killer in the making, so we naturally decided to provoke him by taking pictures with him in it without his permission, and we joked that after we left the club he would be dubbed, "the Prague tram stabber", because everyone on his tram home was probably slain.

So, that's essentially my trip...oh and on the resurection of Christ I celebrated by visiting, "the Sex Machine Museum" which may have effectively made me A-sexual. It was worth doing though, I tell you what, we don't have that shit in the U.S.!

Love and Hugs, Annie