Oh Ja!

So, I've been out and about in Europe for the past few weeks--most recently in Germany. It was interesting to see the number of people strolling in public, on trams, in subways, just chilling with their beers everywhere. I thought it was a funny contrast to here, the Czech republic, where legislature is trying to make it illegal to have open containers in public.

The irony of the situation is, of course, that here pretty much anyone can buy alcohol, no matter how old they are, anytime day or night. In Germany, this is not the case. Not only are you carded to make sure you are of legal age (18, by the way), if you are underage, you cannot be out past 10pm. If cops see you, they will id you and bring you home or something. I find it funny that there, as long as you are 18, you can chill anywhere with alcohol and that here in Prague you can get totally wasted as long as you remain indoors.

Maybe that's just me.

Another thing that was pretty amazing was when Ashley and I got kicked out of the "first class" train cab. We had just been told to move out of the train we were on originally before it was supposed to stop for our transfer, so we were already confused, but then further confused when the train lady came to us and pointed at the "1" sign in the window. As we sadly picked up our things, feeling bad for committing such a terrible mistake, we moved to our lower class seats. Surprisingly, these felt similar to the first class ones. Perhaps the reason was that they were the same seats, with the exception of not having an arm rest between seats. I'm talking literally the same seats, same space, same style, everything. Exactly the same. Silly Germans.


I learned that many non-Bavarians hate Bavarians and want to get rid of them and make them a different nation. Sounds like Texas or something.

This morning we tried to make this stuff called Harusky, or something like that. My dad picked it up because the box looked like it may be similar to hash browns. Granted, they do have both frozen hashbrowns and potatoes to make your own, but having neither, I settled and tried to produce a sort of hashbrown product. Let me tell you how it turned out. Not.hash.browns. It was like eating little balls of fried dough or something, with cooked onion and ham (which I added, in honour of Waffle House of course), applied ketchup and salt and everything I could possibly fathom to put on it. Needless to say, I could not finish a plate of it. I threw half a plate away and immediately took a tums ultra to calm my already-inflamed stomach.

Going back to Amanda's post from weeks ago, I also have refused to eat gelatin since I discovered its source. This is disgusting to me. Upon telling my parents this (my mother happened to make some gelatinous dessert) however, my father asked me about other things I eat, like weird chicken things or steak or anything, to which I replied, in mostly honest terms, that I really don't eat pork, steak, or dark chicken. The exception to this rule is sausage, which is rather sad, and I should probably do away with it; but some just tastes so good.