#also sorry but he looks quite delicious in this picture slideshow

[darthspideys]

all that glitters // 2

chapter 2 // butterflies 

Warnings: objectification of men? Is that a thing? Look I pretty much just boil these guys down to their bodies and baseline personality traits sorry if that offends you 

a/n: I feel like this is as good as time as any to say that i've never watched an episode of the bachelor or the bachelorette in my life. All the info for this fic came from wikipedia and or a slideshow of bachelor dates so do with that what you will :) also I don’t describe race right off the bat here with your bachelors but they are not all white so don’t picture them that way, that’s not how we do things here :) 

You expect them to swarm you like wasps. Judging by the warnings from the crew, and from the poor showing the night before you expected that the moment they saw you they would swallow you up in a circle and you’d have to bend down and crawl to escape. You spend the whole day being shuffled through more interviews, photoshoots, lectures, and everything in between, until it’s finally time to do an actual rose ceremony. 

Well.. almost. Before you’re able to eliminate one or two people, you have to meet them first, which you guess makes sense. Today's event is going to be a cocktail party, where you're supposed to mingle and drink with all of the guys, smile for the cameras and then savagely eliminate two of them from the competition right off the bat. You’ve been told that you only have to eliminate too, but you figure the more you kick off the sooner this will be over, and you're sure that more than one of them will do something to annoy you. 

Considering their time on this show is on the line, you thought that as soon as they even thought you were coming outside to join the party, they’d swarm you for their chance to make a good first impression. But as you exit the mansion, decked out in a golden dress that doesn’t even make it to your knees, with more gold embellishments and only straps to keep it place no one even seems to bat an eye. You’re a little more offended then you want to let on, not because you want their attention, at least you don’t think you do.  

Truthfully, as much as you would never admit it, being the star of the show isn’t such a bad thing. After being on the backburner in your own family, and even out in the world for so long, having the whole thing be about you is something you’re beginning to like. Something about being in control, having their fate in your hands is exciting as much as you want to push that feeling down and make it go away. 

You hear the sound of an unfamiliar voice, “And here she is.” 

Suddenly, all eyes are on you. All ten guys stare at you and even though you're a ways away you can feel the heat of their stare, and see the anxiousness in their bodies. You wanted them to pay attention to you, and now you have all of it. And it’s not just theirs, the cameras all turn to you, and the sound, and the lights, it shows every inch of you for the world to see. Although you know it’s not live, you can almost see the people watching from their living rooms, your mother watching from her disgustingly gaudy living room, with the moose head mounted above the wall that’s probably watching you too. 

It should scare you, it should make you want to run the other way and lock yourself in your room for the next six weeks where no one can see. You should be wilting under the intense light, drying out from the heat of it, but you don’t. You smile, and you revel in it. 

Lights, camera, action. 

Liam comes up to your first. Everyone sees that he’s staked his claim and disperses off for the moment, to nurse their drinks and or get some more camera time for themselves. If they can’t make you love them, the audience is the next best thing. 

“I’m sorry about last night,” He says, still Canadian. He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, and you make note of the camera angled right over his shoulder. Your microphone itches against your upper chest. You sip your own drink, a soda because you're going to have to be sober for this, “I just wanted to see you face to face.” 

“They didn’t show you my picture or anything before you got here?” You ask him, “You didn’t even think to know what you were getting into.” 

“It’s not the same as seeing someone in person,” He says, and he says it with a kind of meaning you don’t expect. He’s not what you expected, starting with the apology and ending with the clear honesty he is giving you in this moment. “The photos don’t really show how beautiful you are.” 

You playfully roll your eyes, “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” Before he can argue you continue, “Apology accepted, consider the slate clean.” 

You’re gone before he can say anything else. You’re not in the mood for hollow compliments, or the kind of flirting usually reserved for the first meeting at a bar or on some app. You move on to different tables and make small talk that you loathe but you smile, maybe because your face is permanently wound into that position. 

Anthony is average. He talks a lot about what he does, and it’s good work but you’re getting a hint of something else that you don’t like. The way that he talks about himself is a little too egotistical for your liking. 

Lars is a lumberjack. Literally, that’s what he does for a living and he looks it. Even his suit has a flannel tie, just so everyone is aware of exactly what the package is. You like it, even though you know your mother would never approve of something like that (a fact which makes you want him more). 

Enzo is from Texas. He is very proud of it, and the southern accent is something that sets him apart. However, the amount that he talks about Texas and the amount that he talks about himself is concerning. He’s cute though, definitely sitting in the middle of your mental ranking.

Liam is, well he’s been previously established. 

Chris is obviously here because of good old fashion nepotism. He’s the son of the host, and clearly here to fulfill something for his parents, which is relatable but doesn’t make him any higher than a seven out of ten. 

Leo and Lucas as twins. It’s very interesting, and enough to put them above the top five just because of the curiosity of it all. They are almost the same, windswept brown hair and dark brown eyes except somehow Leo has freckles, which puts him about 0.6 higher than his brother. 

Ryan is white bread, delicious but boring. He’ll stay for a while, hang on just for kicks but he’ll always be the dead weight, hanging around in the background but the show will be a nice bump for his national profile and let’s be hornets he’ll be in the running to be the bachelor. 

Which brings you all the way down to numbers one and two on the current husband to be ranking (if that’s even what you're gonna end up calling it, because it’s too real to stick around for the whole competition). Tom is the handsome stranger from one magical three seconds on a bustling street in New York that you’re very much longing for as you shuffle through conversation with man after man and sip your drink. He is kind of short if you’re being honest, but that’s okay, with brown eyes and dark brown hair. He’s from Britain, which you can tell before he tells you he’s from South London, darling, and staring right at the camera over your shoulder. You don’t talk about your previous meeting, and you wonder if he even remembers. You don’t know whether to hope he does or doesn’t, but you do know that you remember every second of it. 

Sanjiv is the golden boy. Young, Indian American, and a favorite to win last season on the Bachelorette. Only the woman went for the bad boy at the last second, and the jury is still out on whether it’ll work. The rumor was he would be the next Bachelor, but here he is standing and smiling at you in a way that makes heat rise to your cheeks and you don’t know what his game is. That makes you nervous, that scares you, that you don’t know what his game is. After the entire afternoon, dancing in circles going from table to table and smiling your face off, you feel like you know what everyone’s game is, but not his. It scares you a bit, that you don’t know what his aim is but it’s a kind of intoxicating uncertainty. He’s the mysterious man that always gets the girl because she desperately wants to figure him out, it's the challenge, it's the chase that why he’s number one. 

“I’m sure you’re wondering where my loyalties lie,” He says. 

“Something like that,” You tell him, “If this was anywhere near normal I’d be asking you if you were over your ex, or do exes count here?”

“I’d say she’s my ex,” He shrugs, “And I’ve moved on, as much as I can.” He looks at you with an expression you can’t quite interpret. “Promise you won’t pick someone else over me at the last minute?” 

That makes you smile, and you hope that he’s joking. “I will make no such promises, but if the situation arises I will give twenty four hours notice.” 

“At the very least will you not eliminate me first?” He’s teasing you and you can tell. “It would be a little embarrassing for my image.” 

“Well anything for your image, I was going to but I guess I’ll just have to pick someone else now.” 

His laugh is natural, and you get those same butterflies in your stomach as you did in high school when you tried to impress your crush and you joke just landed. The little churn that comes with the possibility that the answer to does he like me? Might be yes. For a moment you forget your on tv, you forget that you're the girl everyone wants, the one in the gold dress and you’re just you. You're just a girl, standing in front of a boy that you see something in, something that you can’t quite describe or touch but you feel it. That’s truly why he’s number one. That feeling doesn’t come around a lot for you, the butterflies, usually you're anxious because of a work deadline or a family dinner but this is something else entirely.

You don’t know what his game is. But your dying to find out.

Tag list:

@anikinskywalkr

@living-life-underoos

@poesflygirl

#fun fact this was not going to go this way when I first started it #but I like it now? #me? not introducing tom holland in a tom holland fanfic #yeah thats what's happened #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x oc #tom holland series #tom holland au #all that glitters series

[longislandweekly-blog]

Ranking cookies like the monster that I am

Cookie Monster can’t control himself around cookies. (Photo source: Sesame Workshop)

If you were to diagnose all of those furry characters on Sesame Street, Cookie Monster certainly wouldn’t be placed in the “obsessive-compulsive disorder” category (that would clearly be reserved for The Count). Instead, the googly eyed, intellectually stunted blue monster would definitely be labeled as a “binge eater.” This doesn’t make Cookie Monster a bad individual—after all, it’s not his fault. He doesn’t gluttonously hog all the food in an exercise in greed the way Oscar the Grouch might approach mealtime. Instead, Cookie Monster’s need to furiously gobble cookies most likely either comes from genetics, a chemical imbalance of the brain or some sort of severe emotional or physical trauma. Or maybe he’s just a sweet, innocent monster who just really, really loves cookies. To avoid further psychoanalyzing a puppet—or the man who made the puppet—let’s just go with the theory that he just loves cookies so much, that it borders on monstrosity.

And for those of us who were prone to latching onto any television character that we perceived as even vaguely caring about us, Cookie Monster’s love of cookies became our love of cookies. We wanted to gobble cookies just as monstrously as he gobbled cookies, with cookie shrapnel flying out of the sides of our mouth as we stared into the soft glow of our replacement guardian.

Anyways, all those years of eating cookies and watching Cookie Monster eat cookies has made many of us cookie experts. We all have our favorites for an array of different reasons—but just as all cookies have a shred of good in them, all cookies also have a touch of not-so-good. Here’s a list of our definitive list of the most popular cookies, along with what to love—and hate—about each one.

Chocolate Chip

When you hear the word “cookie,” this is likely the variety of cookie you picture in your head. There’s something to be said for that. The chocolate chip cookie is also the baseline product, the “original” flavor of the majority of your local supermarket’s cookie brands. Either chewy or crisp, gooey or dry, if there is a plate of chocolate chip cookies any where near your vicinity, you’ll likely eat more than a few out of sheer habit alone. Are those factors enough to make these the world’s greatest cookies? No. Chocolate chip cookies have their downside—and the most prominent downside is the chocolate chip. I’m sorry, but I don’t want a tiny, hard marble of chocolate to impeding my mouth’s journey through a soft, salty-sweet cookie. And when I opt to eat my cookie dough raw, those rat dropping-like pellets offer an even worse eating experience. The chocolate in a truly great chocolate chip cookie should be warm and melty—anything else is acrid garbage.

Oatmeal Raisin

Oatmeal mixed with raisins and presented in a cookie form? Eh, I guess. You have to enjoy oatmeal in the first place to really give this variety of cookie a chance. I, for one, have a hard time getting down with oatmeal because—and this is just my opinion—it feels closer to horse feed than actual human food. And then there’s the raisins, which are grapes that have had the soul sucked out. Raisins are sweet little nothings with an OK texture—they certainly aren’t strong enough to prop up this poor excuse for a cookie. I guess the one good thing you can say about oatmeal raisin cookies is that they’re packed with fiber. But so is asparagus and I don’t see that on any cookie lists, do you?

Snickerdoodle

Here’s where things get interesting. The snickerdoodle is like a hot and spicy version of the humble sugar cookie. Blessed with invigorating bursts of cinnamon, snickerdoodles are the warm blanket covering you as you sit in front of a fire. Or maybe they are the fire—either way, they are damn good. Snickerdoodles are like the mulled wine of the cookie world, with a complex flavor and texture that warms you from the inside out. They are delicious on their own for sure, but do yourself a favor and mash one up into a bowl of vanilla ice cream for a real adult experience. Meanwhile, a quick internet search reveals that the one ingredient crucial to the tang and chewiness of a snickerdoodle is cream of tartar. That ingredient has been in the back of my spice cabinet for nearly 40 years and now I finally know how it should be used.

Peanut Butter

Peanut butter cookies have the most amazing melt-in-your-mouth texture, with crisp edges and a creamy, rich peanut butter middle. Fitted with a randomized pattern on top, peanut butter cookies are roughly hewed and sometimes feature jagged peanut butter fragments sticking out in various directions. The hash marks have a purpose though, as peanut butter cookies are quite dense and if they weren’t pressed down, they might not cook evenly. But don’t concern yourself with how they look—it’s all about that sweet-salty combination.

These Are Not Cookies

And just for your own education, here’s a list of impostors that have inappropriately been labeled as cookies through the years. These are not cookies:

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• Fortune Cookies • Oreos • Animal Crackers • Biscotti • Macarons • Macaroons • Wafer Cookies • Digestive Biscuits • Fig Newtons • Rum Balls

Long Island Weekly's Steve Mosco has obsessive cookie disorder and ranks cookies like the monster that he is. Don't miss his brutal list of "These Are Not Cookies," which, controversially, includes Oreos and macarons. Ranking cookies like the monster that I am If you were to diagnose all of those furry characters on…

[rouletteweekend]

Flea Market Guy (FMG) and I went on our cruise. It was about a month ago. We left Knoxville and drove to Florida. We spent the night in a little beach motel that was probably 3 stars at best. I’ve always been a fan of cheap motels. Especially if they are right on the beach. Not that I would turn my nose up at a 5 star with crisp white linens. I love those kind of hotels. But, they aren’t a necessity especially when you are on a budget.

So we got to our little beach Motel, Anthony’s on the Beach. And it was. Right. On. The. Beach. I was immediately in love with it. Water for miles. Sand. Sunset. And sea turtle nests. Tons of them. FMG and I were hoping to see a mad dash for the water by dozens of baby sea turtles, but we were disappointed. All we saw were crabs. And quite a few of them. And they are pretty quick.

We got in right before sunset, so we took a nice long stroll on the beach and went and had dinner. I ate crab legs. And key lime pie. Because, when in Florida, right? Then we went back to the beach for another little stroll before bed. We got up super early to watch the sunrise. It was cloudy so there wasn’t much to see. So we got all of our stuff together, went to have breakfast and then went exploring near the port we were ultimately heading to.

We made it to the port and seamlessly got on board. Like I said yesterday, my bestie, Liz and her family were on the ship. She’s actually the reason we went. They were having a family reunion and she said, “you should come.” So I did. It was very last minute and unplanned, but totally worth it. I didn’t see her as much as I would have liked, but I guess that is the difference between traveling with kids and without kids. We didn’t have any kids with us.

FMG was awesome the whole trip. As I’ve mentioned, we are battling with his drinking problem. I was a little scared for him to come with me on the cruise because, honestly, I didn’t want his drinking to ruin it. Not that he is an embarrassing drunk or a mean drunk. He’s actually not your typical drunk at all, but there is still the hangover factor and I didn’t want our exploring to be ruined or not get to go explore at all because he was sick. But to my surprise and happiness, he didn’t over do it at all. We had the best time. He barely drank. I think I did more drinking than he did. We sang elevator karaoke, went to all the little nightly “game shows,” even participated in a couple of them. We got off the ship in Nassau and skipped all the tourist excursions, choosing instead, to explore by ourselves. We saw a 160 year old cathedral. Met the priest who was over it. I think he said he was the first black priest at that cathedral. All the others had been Europeans. So we basically met history. We walked through neighborhoods from poor to pretty well off. We met some of the locals, ate conch, which I was not a huge fan of, went to an old fort and took a self guided tour. We did go sit on the beach for a few minutes, but it was super hot and humid and we had already walked about 9 miles, so we took the last little walk back to the port and smuggled some rum and vodka on in my pants (don’t judge me, I said we were on a budget).

We went back to the room and relaxed for about 30 minutes before heading to the pool to cool off. It wasn’t that cool. And it was a salt water pool which shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did. At first I thought maybe I had been sweating so much that I could taste the sweat on my lips, but then my eyes started burning just a little and I realized that I am an idiot and the pool was a salt water pool. There were no more surprises after that.

Until later that night when we ran into a guy on the elevator playing the piano and singing. After the bootleg rum and vodka, we were in quite a karaoke mood. I bet we stayed on that elevator with him for at least an hour singing at the top of our lungs and sweating up a storm. Elevators get hot when they are packed and you are performing. I’d venture to say there is at least one YouTube video out there. If you find it, please forward me the link and also, I’m sorry.

After FMG finally was able to talk me into getting off the elevator we ended up at one of the random cruise game shows. All were very funny. We went to a few. At some point, we had dinner, but I should have written about it a month ago when it happened. It would have been way more entertaining.

The next day consisted of a nice relaxing day at Coco Cay. It’s basically Royal Caribbean’s privately owned beach. The perks of the cruise were included like unlimited delicious food, and drinks if you had the drink package, but you could also buy souvenirs and cabanas for the day if you wanted to. We just chilled out on the beach chairs and swam in the ocean for a while. At some point, I got a small case of sea itch. It’s basically a rash that usually occurs where your bathing suit is from murdering tiny little jellyfish embryos when you get out of the water and they release their toxins in your skin and likely, you have a reaction that is like a nice little red itchy rash that lasts from days to weeks. I was on the “to weeks” side of it. But in the end it was still totally worth it.

We headed back to the boat an hour or so before we really needed to, but someone from another cruise ship that was also there got left behind and although it was paradise, we didn’t want that to happen to us.

So we got back to our stateroom and sat on the balcony for a while watching people slowly filter back to the ship.

FMG was absolutely perfect the whole time. It was one of those surprising things about dating an alcoholic. Just when you think they are going to ruin your good time, they end up doing exactly what they said they were going to do.

I think I’ve been pretty open about the fact that FMG is a raging alcoholic. Not the angry drunk abusive kind. Just the self loathing, self destructive kind. But he did a complete 360 for me on this trip and I’m thankful for that. I wish I could say he stayed on that path upon our return, but he didn’t and that is a story for another day or ten.

When the cruise was over, we spent half of the day back in Florida and then we headed to Savannah to see some of their history and FMG wanted to take me to Tybee Island because I have a small fascination and love for lighthouses. So we took some pictures and walked through the random Monday night flea market that was going on there. He bought be a picture of a lighthouse.

We found a hotel outside of Savannah and hunkered down for the night. We both agreed that even if it was a cheap motel, we wanted a place that had white linens and not one of those lampshade looking red and yellow murder blankets on top of the bed. After we found one, we proceeded to ask the clerk if we could have the haunted room. Savannah got us to ghost hunting. She said she didn’t know of any. So FMG asked for a handicap room. He thought the likelihood of it being haunted was higher because maybe someone old had died in it. Morbid but true (probably why I love him so). Plus, the bathroom has a way bigger shower and easily fits two. So we got the handicap room, went and had dinner, showered, and went to bed. No ghosts were sighted.

We drove the rest of the way home still high on the smell of salt water, sand, and sunblock. We talked more about our future together and made plans to try living together and see where the future may take us. Along with searching for around the world cruises we could take (that actually exist).

Then we got back home to reality… I won’t ruin this happy ending today, I’ll save that for tomorrow.

Instead, I’ll post some pictures below of our trip. There aren’t as many as you’d expect, but we spent a lot of time in the moment and didn’t have our phones or camera with us.

Enjoy!

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  Next Stop, Around the World...maybe #thecruise #thebeginning #theend #rouletteweekend #life #love #blog Flea Market Guy (FMG) and I went on our cruise. It was about a month ago. We left Knoxville and drove to Florida.

[margaretgleason-blog]

I have a lot of state pride, a fact which my fellow YES Abroad Bulgaria students have learned over the past two weeks as I’ve drunk excessive amounts of water from my purple (Oregon-made) HydroFlask with the Oregon-shaped sticker that says HOME on it while waxing poetic about Oregon’s water or Oregon’s people or Oregon’s culture…sorry girls.

Anyway, a large part of being an Oregonian is loving to get out in nature, be it hiking, swimming, camping, or sailing. As such, I was a little bit nervous when I learned that I would be living in Sofia, Bulgaria’s largest and capital city, for the year! Was I destined to spend 10 months in a concrete jungle, devoid of trees or hills? Would I go a full scholastic year without a single hike?! Luckily for me, this is not the case. Not only do I live 30 minutes outside of Sofia in a beautiful village surrounded by Bulgarian countryside, but the city (and Bulgaria in general) is an incredibly green place filled with countless natural wonders. I got my first taste of these last weekend when the YES Abroad Bulgaria team, Jelena and Rumi, took Makana, Lily, Delaney, and me on an overnight trip to Rila Mountain!

For context, Rila is a mountain range in southwestern Bulgaria and is the highest mountain range of both Bulgaria and the Balkans. Its most famous sights are the Seven Rila Lakes, which is what we went to see, and Rila Monastery, which we are going to see on Thursday (check back for that post soon). The hija (a type of traditional mountain cabin) we stayed in was about a 2-hour drive plus a 40-minute hike from the center of Sofia, so not right nearby but not too far either!

We left Sofia a little after 4 pm, following an epic battle with the car alarm which was convinced we were burglars despite having unlocked the car with the key. Finally victorious, the six of us loaded in and set off on our adventure. The drive there was intermittently silent, as we perpetually exhausted exchange students napped, and near-raucous with laughter, as we swapped stories from our lives in the States. Fortunately for everyone involved, the four of us Americans get along great. We tease each other relentlessly (knowing it’s all in good fun), but are also able to be truly supportive of each other without condescension or comparison of our individual exchange experiences. I couldn’t have dreamt of a better group.

We arrived at the hija sometime around 7, I think, and I immediately fell in love with the place. To get there, you walk through the woods for about 40 minutes before the path opens up on a clearing. In center of the clearing are several wooden tables, with benches and stools made from tree trunks and stumps, around which are about 4 different structures. The central building is the hija itself which contains a dining room, kitchen, and several guest rooms. The other buildings are a mix between additional rooms and smaller structures that I don’t think a human being should enter without a hard hat. Maybe I’m wrong, but they looked quite unsteady. To the right of the hija is an open field with tall grass, surrounded by gorgeous evergreens. See the photos below to understand all of the beauty my meagre words can’t describe.

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  Me getting a kiss from the love of my life

Along with the breathtaking sights, the hija had another thing going for it — “Markovi”! Meaning “Carrots” we gave this name to an adorable little dog, no more than a month and a half old, who had wandered to the hija with some travelers a few weeks earlier and decided to move in! I hate to rely on stereotypes, but upon seeing him we responded exactly as you would expect from four teenage girls. Lots of squealing. Lots of pictures. Like the one you see to the left of me falling in love for the first time. Technically his name is Мече, which means “little bear”, but Makana saw him and exclaimed “Markovi!” and, for us at least, it stuck. He made an already magical experience about 100000x better and we all miss him dearly.

Our evening at the hija was basically my idea of perfection. After a wonderful dinner of salad, spaghetti Bolognese, and insanely delicious Bulgarian meatballs (not served with the pasta as one might expect in the U.S. but as a separate course), plus lots of homemade herbal tea served from a huge metal kettle on the iron stove in the corner, we moved outside to sit under the stars. Jelena found out that I (kind of) play guitar and managed to borrow one! I hadn’t played in probably a year or more, but I managed to strum out some Taylor Swift classics as well as, at Makana’s request, All Star by Smash Mouth. It felt so incredibly good to play again. I hadn’t just sat down and made music solely for the joy of doing it in longer than I would like to admit. It felt really good.

We sat around the fire, laughing and singing, for the rest of the night. Around 11-ish we retreated into our cozy room — which fit all six of us comfortably with room for two more! The bulk of the room was taken up by bunk beds topped with thick green woolen blankets which could fit three people on each level. Against another wall was a second, typically sized set of bunk beds with a table at one end and against a third wall was the stove that kept us warm. The fourth wall held a huge window with lace curtains. Though the beds were only slightly softer than bare planks of wood, I slept like a baby. Must have been that fresh mountain air 🙂

Тhis is real. I didn’t find this pic online, I promise.

The morning consisted of banitsa and tea for breakfast, more photo-taking (check back here soon for a Gallery page!), and walking the 40 minutes back to the parking lot to put our bags in the car before catching the ski lift to the top of the mountain. It was at least a 20 minute ride to the top which was great on the way up and less great on the way down, for reasons that will become clear. The views from the lift and from the top were…well there’s a photo right there. See for yourself. In many ways the scenery actually reminded me of home, but with a distinctly European charm. What could be better?

  This is where the story becomes somewhat less than ideal: It started raining. Now you may be thinking, “Margaret you were bragging about being a true Oregonian earlier, what’s a little rain?” Normally, I would agree with you. In fact, that was indeed the attitude I took at first. But then it kept raining. And raining harder. And it had been a bright, sunny day when we got on the lift, so I was wearing only a not remotely waterproof sweatshirt for warmth and was carrying only my not remotely waterproof camera. So like I said. Less than ideal.

By the time we reached the bottom of the lift, my sweatshirt was about 10 pounds heavier and I looked like a drowned cat, but my camera was safe. We all rushed to the car as fast as possible to begin peeling off our wet clothes and trading them for whatever clean, dry stuff we had left in our bags.

Now, do you remember the legendary car alarm battle from the beginning of this story? Well, having had a full night to rest and recover, Mr. Alarm was back and stronger than ever! That’s right, as soon as we opened the door it started honking and wailing with all its might, and this time it wasn’t stopping. Desperate to get to food and a bathroom, so we could properly clean up, we decided that the other drivers could deal with it and proceeded down the mountain with more fanfare than a royal parade.

Eventually we found a restaurant for lunch (at approximately 4:30 pm) and the car got tired or something and decided to shut up, so we made it the rest of the way home without issue. Our host families met us at the American Councils office in Sofia and we each headed off to our respective showers and beds.

Because of the rain we only managed to see one of the Seven Rila Lakes, but all in all it was an absolutely wonderful trip. I got to spend time with some marvelous people in one of the most exquisite settings I’ve ever seen. 10/10: Would recommend.

While this trip is a highlight of my exchange so far, each day has been uniquely great. Bulgaria has this remarkable ability to feel more and more like home while also surprising me more and more each day. There’s so much I wish I could share with you all, but I would never stop writing. There is definitely a post about the struggles of learning Bulgarian coming your way, as well as a recap of my first week of school (next week!!), plus whatever else my overloaded brain thinks of. Until next time, довижане!

  This was me literally all weekend - Bulgaria is gorgeous! Read about our mountain trip below! I have a lot of state pride, a fact which my fellow YES Abroad Bulgaria students have learned over the past two weeks as I've drunk excessive amounts of water from my purple (Oregon-made) HydroFlask with the Oregon-shaped sticker that says HOME on it while waxing poetic about Oregon's water or Oregon's people or Oregon's culture...sorry girls.