Not that it's all that important, but "Word Up" by Cameo has been stuck in my head since waking up this morning, which is not all that much better than the pounding headache I should have.
Jessica Goes to Karneval; Continues Illicit Affair With Candy and Alcohol
Yes, after three grueling days of long classes where we learned to our personal horror that would finally have homework ("What? Four pages? In two weeks? FOUR PAGES?! This is an outrage."), Karneval began yesterday morning. Being poor, I bought only facepaint and a cheap Ladybug (marienkaefer, German word of the day!) set, hoping for the best. And the best is what came of it.
We stocked up on cheap drinks from the grocery store in order to avoid buying any at the bar, and as I walked through the streets with my brimming bag that night, I looked like someone feeling very optimistic on her first day of being a hobo. With a twinkle in my eye and a kick in my step, I strolled home and snuggled under the covers that night, longing for Karneval with the fervor of a six year old on Christmas Eve. I was right to do so.
We met at the AIB at 10:00am, faces painted and oversized animal ears planted firmly on our heads, to start drinking like we all just got laid off (probably an inappropriate joke, considering the economic climate, but ladybugs do not worry about such things). We walked across the bridge and for the first and only time in my life, people begged me to finish their drinks for them; I was quite chipper once we reached Beuhel. Finally at the site of the parade, we perched ourselves on the sidewalks screaming "ALAFF!" and "CAMELLA!" as drunken pirates, clowns, and police officers chucked candies at our heads (and, strangely, tissues). Once the ground became littered with unlabeled treats, we dove after them with the reckless abandon of people suffering from severe low blood sugar, which I assure you we were not. We were just drunken crazy people willing to writhe on the floor at the mere mention of "FOOOOOOOD!" Finally, a day where I didn't need to feel ashamed of my daily activities.
After the parade, I stuck around with the resident Germans from the AIB who took me around to bars where I shamelessly exploited the adorable ladybug antennae for a spot at the front of the line for the port-a-potties. After I had completely lost any sense of personal motives, I simply followed Victoria and Nils and somehow ended up in Cologne with a beer bottle shoved down the side of my pants in order to hide it when going into the next bar. I now have a bruise, which is my only means of recalling that half hour spent standing in line. Eventually, tired and preparing for my head to fall off at any second, Nils and I took the train back to Bonn and I slowly stumbled home.
As I unlocked the door, feeling that it must be at least 2:00am, I sneaked quietly through the hallway when I saw the living room light on and heard the TV echoing something German and apparently hilarious. Looking at my phone, I realized it was 7:30pm. Lilo, wonder of all wonders, made me a gigantic plate of mock-Boyardee ravioli from what must have been a family-sized can. Having eaten nothing since 11am (strange candies), I ate the entire plate with the determined focus of a professional chess player.
Though I had planned on getting cleaned up to go back out the bars, I quickly reconsidered that plan upon getting into my bedroom. The warm mattress and fluffy comforter toyed with my emotions before I finally gave in and fell asleep around 8:30pm; I wouldn't wake up for another 13 hours.
Now, as I write this, I consider how much I need to clean my room before Kristin gets here and we get ready for Round 2...
More on Karneval and other news, tomorrow at 11.
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