Next Stop, Chicago

I don't quite know how I pulled it off, but I backpacked around Europe for two weeks without any real setbacks. Me, the same eejit who this very semester has screwed up a grilled cheese sandwich and failed to figure out the complexities of the modern marvel, the can opener. I guess that just means I come through when it really counts, eh? So what exactly happened over the course of the last two weeks? The last semester? Sure you've read some stories and maybe even seen a few pictures (you've realized by this point that I have a site with a lot of pictures on it, right?), but it's hard to say. I can tell you stories about how I've seen old Japanese men plastered, standing on tables, and singing their national anthem at the top of their lungs in the Hofbrauhaus. Yes, I can tell you about how I ended up caught up in a group of locals one night in Brugge and ended up getting back to my hostel four hours later than I planned on. I've already alluded to you about the day in Bavaria when I lived out one of my favorite movies. I can show you the video of me and my buddy Hans dropping like a rock through the atmosphere. And I can even tell you about how I was forced to speak Chinese at a sushi joint in Paris. But if you ask me how it really was, I wouldn't know what to say; not yet anyway. I need some time and perspective to go back and fit together the pieces of the puzzle. Of course, some of this crazy stuff was nothing more than funny moments or bouts with stupidity. A lot of it was more, though, and I definitely feel like it has left its mark on me. Just try to not kill me if all I can do is smile and nod when you ask me the million dollar question: "So how was Ireland?"