Leave The Hague at 12:30 PM, Drive to Paris. Eat. Sleep. Carry all belongings down 3 flights of stairs. Drive back to The Hague. Leave girlfriend and all belongings at a gas station. Carry all belongings the few blocks from the gas station, through the pedestrian area, to apartment. Move all belongings up steepest flights of stairs ever. Wonder why knee hurts.
Cut Friday classes. Go to train station. Take train to airport. Get on plane. Fly to San Francisco. Borrow Car. Drive to Santa Cruz. Eat. Get drunk. Go dancing. (awake for 26 hours!) Collapse. Awake. Eat. Get lost trying to find beach. Drive to Berkeley. Eat. Sleep. Drive to Santa Cruz. Watch brother get married. Eat. Drive to San Jose. Eat. Drive to Berkeley. Sleep. Try to buy tuba shipping case. Give up. Buy bubble wrap. Wrap sousaphone in bubble wrap. Get ride to airport. Fly to Amsterdam. Get on wrong train. Wander around train station of small town in Holland while carrying bubble wrapped sousaphone. Take train to The Hague. Carry bubble wrapped tuba to apartment. Fall asleep. Miss classes. Forget lab time.
This weekend, I'm thinking of going to Amsterdam to get my hair cut.
Um, anyway, my brother got married and I came back for it and went to the Bachelorette party (my first and last, I think). And I now have the worst tuba in Holland, I think. I didn't worry about breaking it because who could tell. It sounds like a wounded cow. I want to use it to work out how to do some stuff which I will later do with a real tuba.
My stomach still hurts from the antibiotics that I took in July. This is ridiculous. I go offline to find a medical person to whine to.