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| Michiel & me, Granda, June 15, 2013 |
From the streets and mountains of Murcia, to the sprawling boulevards of Valencia, through the magical gardens of the
Alhambra, and in and every damn playground we could find from Spain to Romania, my friends and I treated the act of having fun like a contact sport and a drinking game.
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There isn't
much to be said about me reliving my college partying days on an epic scale of international and therefore ridiculous "come home with the sun" proportion, aside from the obvious in that it was a lot of fun . In 10 months I literally drank more beer than I had in all four years of undergrad (because I didn't really do beer in undergrad and had upgraded almost exclusively to vodka once I got to grad school), discovered the upper limits of my alcohol/consciousness limits...
twice (St. Patrick's Day was the set up!), loved and loathed
la madrugada, and got to know some of my fellow expat friends in awesome, terrible, and hilarious ways.
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