As I mentioned last week, I’m spending the month exploring Europe and I’ll be chronicling my journey for The Frisky. My boyfriend Nick and I began our trip in Paris. We spent a few days there on our own and then my mom and my brother Devin joined us. Well, they tried. Unfortunately, their first experience with the Paris Metro system played out like a formulaic sequel to “Home Alone:” Devin boarded a train and the doors closed before my mom could get on. Neither of them had a cellphone or directions, so they spent the next two and a half hours riding trains back and forth through the city trying to find each other while Nick and I waited for them at the Metro station — terrified that they’d been abducted — and chain-eating croissants to cope with the stress. Luckily Devin found a kindly Scottish farmer to guide him home and my mom found a payphone under the Eiffel Tower, but wow, what a crazy day (apparently my family has bad luck with trains). More thoughts on Paris after the jump… Keep reading »
In part one of her adventure, Winona and her travel companions discover that they’re in for more than they bargained for on a mysterious trip from Portland, Oregon, to White Fish, Montana. Today, read the conclusion of her trip.
We were silent for a moment, examining the dimly lit Spokane skyline in the distance. “I didn’t even know Spokane had a skyline,” I said, and the boys nodded in agreement.
An hour passed. And then another. The train remained stopped at the abandoned station. Our cellphones, laid out on the table, let out their last beeps and chimes before succumbing to dead batteries. “Why aren’t we moving?” Nick muttered. “Why won’t this damn train move?” Devin left to brave the restroom. Corwin’s leg fell asleep and he started pacing the cabin. Cuyler and I entered the stage of fatigue that induces fits of giggling and rocking back and forth in the fetal position.
A few minutes later we heard the door open and saw a figure stumbling toward us… Keep reading »
Not so long ago, my mom, my brothers, my boyfriend and I decided to go to Montana. We yearned to see the endless skies and the imposing beauty of Glacier National Park; the only question was how to get there–flights were expensive and my family has a long and horrifying history of road trips gone awry. We considered canceling the trip altogether, but then my mom called me and said, “Listen, there’s a train that goes from Portland, Oregon, to White Fish, Montana. It’s about half the price of a flight but it takes 14 hours to get there. Is that crazy?”
“No,” I said. “It’s perfect.” Keep reading »
Last week I went down to San Diego for a few days. In theory, it should have been a very simple trip to pack for: throw a couple pairs of cutoffs and a swimsuit in a duffel bag and you’re good to go. In reality, I jammed a rucksack full of roughly 200 pounds of all-weather clothing and forgot my toothbrush. That’s right: I am The Worst Packer In The World, and today I’d like to share a few of my bad habits, because if you do exactly the opposite of me, chances are you’ll end up with a perfectly packed suitcase… Keep reading »
This is a photo of Juzcar, a town in Spain that has been chosen for the world premiere of “The Smurfs 3D.” Why? Because the town opted to paint all of its buildings blue and erect oodles of Smurfy statues in public squares. Oh, and the local kids have taken to wearing smurf hats? Here’s guessing this will now become a tourist destination. [USA Today]
One more photo after the jump. Keep reading »
Oh, Spirit Airlines. The company is advertising “The Weiner Sale” with “Fares TOO HARD to Resist.” I say they should only be able to advertise this way if they offer hot dogs as snacks on flights. Have you seen other companies cashing in on the Anthony Weiner sexting scandal? If so, send the ads my way. [BuzzFeed]
Keep reading »
Last month, I went on an amazing trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Only a not so amazing thing happened at one of the hotels where I stayed. I went to bed after a night of tango dancing, and sometime circa 2 a.m., I woke up to what felt like a pin prick on my hand. “What the eff,” I thought, turning on the lamp by the bed. I saw that my hand was covered in a series of bug bites that were in precise, straight lines. Each had three bites—the telltale sign of bed bugs. I lifted up the sheet and—bam—there were two tiny bugs that looked like small, brown ticks. Gross, disgusting bed bugs! After a few minutes of freaking out, I calmly went to the desk and explained what was going on. The dude at the desk hardly seemed surprised—he offered to wash my clothes in hot water and book me a room at another hotel since there were no more open rooms.
I was terrified of bringing bed bugs home with me. Keep reading »
It’s been a while since we last chatted. Last time, I was saying farewell to my 365 Days in Paris blog. Ending the blog was a tough choice especially because so much good stuff was going on in my life—I’d finished up my first year in Paris, was heading onto the next, and had finally met an amazing guy, “Henri.” But I just had a feeling that because things were going well that it was time to live my life offline. I so enjoyed hearing your advice and comments each week, and was pleasantly surprised to hear from Amelia that some of you had actually been asking about me. Moi? I’m touched. So, here’s my update for you.
I’ll start with the end: I’m not in Paris anymore. Keep reading »
This love train continues to steamroll ahead, flattening my former single girl life in its path and chugging into serious couple territory. After only a month of living together, a few pre-planned events came to fruition all in the same week – getting our puppy, meeting his parents and escaping to the beach for our own spring break. Keep reading »
The worst part about the snowpocalypse was that no one was prepared for it. If I had known that Ed Westwick was going to be stranded at the airport in Iceland for 48 hours, I would have been waiting there to “entertain” him. But alas, the “Gossip Girl” bad boy “walked into the duty-free shop and bought a bottle of vodka.” Swoon. He was stranded when his flight to London got snowed in and according to a spy, “he looked like hell.” That’s my kind of hell. [NY Post]
But Westwick wasn’t the only celeb who got stranded in the snowpocalypse, catch the others after the jump! Keep reading »