Sorting Through the Clutter
If you somehow were able to unearth my diary amidst the clutter of my room, then you would probably find something like this...
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Sorting Through the Clutter If you somehow were able to unearth my diary amidst the clutter of my room, then you would probably find something like this... |
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Tuesday, June 22, 2004 Europe Stories, Part I I promised to write about Europe and since my promises are golden (though maybe only 14 karat), here are some excerpts (covering London to Barcelona) paraphrased from my Europe journal. May 14, 2994 "Flight from London, England..." You've heard of being late for flights. But I bet you've never heard of being 24 hours early for one. May 15, 2004 "On the streets of Barcelona, Spain..." So this is what it feels like to be homeless and on the street. The rice that we bought earlier today in London tastes mighty good right now. Our flight from London to Barcelona took longer than we had thought. We arrived at the doorstep of our hostel to find it locked, dark, and silent. So we sat the stoop, eating cold left-over rice, with all of our belonging on our backs. Leash, and I talked about sleeping in shifts on the park bench. A group of upper-middle class seniors walk by and sneered at our cold rice and grubby appearances in disgust. It was interesting how we were looked down upon by the very society that we normally belonged to in Canada. It's a totally different story here... May 19, 2004 "Death by laundry..." It's five in the morning. The whole hostel had gone out for a night on the town (Spanish-style) and we've only all returned now. Leash and I have 2 hours to wash and dry our laundry before we leave to catch our 8 o'clock train out of Barcelona. The ghetto Spanish washer finishes the cycle after one hour, only to leave our clothes sopping wet. What the heck happened to spin-dry?!? So we both grab the laundry and wring it out on the balcony before throwing it into the dryer. I leave Leash for a few minutes to go pee. I haven't gone post-clubbing pee yet and we're both actually still in our clubbing outfits. As I run back to the laundry machines, Leash gives me a pained look and says "it hurts to touch the laundry". I give her a weird look and reach into the puddle at the bottom of the laundry machine. OWWW!! I snap back my hand as I feel a mild electric shock run up my arm. What the hell?!? The cheap electrical wiring, combined with the puddle of water from the wet clothes, produced a mild electrical current. Not enough to kill, but enough to hurt you. I quickly remember my grade 10 science and what I learned about the non-conductivity of wood. I run to the kitchen to grab a wooden spatula. I use it to scoop each piece of clothing out. Finally after wringing dry each item of clothing and tossing it into the dryer, we let it run for 45 mins. It's 7:30 AM when we pull open the dryer door to find all our clothes still wet. Equally ghetto dryer to match the electrocuting washer. Sigh. We stuff our wet clothes into garbage bags, cram it into our backpacks and bolt out the door. This is cutting it too close.. to be continued... posted by Jenn | 4:57 PM | 
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