manikin piss

We left Ireland dreadfully early on Wednesday morning to head to Brussels, Belgium. When we got there we dropped our stuff off at my friend's cousin's apartment and headed out to get some lunch. I had a phenomenal chicken and brie sandwich. yum. Brussels is known for 4 things: being the capital of Europe, chocolate, waffles, and beer. I can happily handle all four of those things. I did not see any runners when I was out running here. Most people looked at me like I had lost my mind. But, it was very pretty. In a different way than Ireland. More architectural instead of natural.

On Thursday we saw all of the main sights. We went to the chocolate square, saw the main center of the city, went into one of the most beautiful Catholic churches I have ever seen and got a beer at a place that is famous for having 2000 beers on their menu. I even went inside a Forever 21 for the first time in months. hallelujah.

Strangest thing about Brussels was the weird attraction locals and tourists have to their most famous statue "manikin piss".  I just don't get it. It's just a little peeing baby. So anti-climatic. And there were literally crowds surrounding the thing. Strange.(there's a picture of it below, then you'll see what I mean).

I just don't get it...

French was the dominant language in Brussels with some German and Dutch sprinkled here and there. Meaning once again, I had no idea what people were saying to me. The cuisine was very french which was a nice change. There was only one casualty in Brussels. I boarded the bus to the airport at 3:30 am on Friday morning feeling like the walking dead. I was like you know Mol just turn on your iPod, listen to some John Mayer Christmas music, find your center, relax. So I go to my music library and much to my surprise I had accidentally erased my entire library except for 20 songs when I tried to charge it on someone's computer. Let me tell you, I was about to kill someone. Listening to Back that Azz Up at 5 in the morning when you're trying to "find your center" just doesn't work. Between running in Milan and the 6 hour train ride home I think I listened to those 20 songs about 10 times each.

So now here I am, Halloween night, sitting in bed because my apartment is literally an ice box, listening to Merry Christmas Baby by Bruce Sprinsteen and I could not be happier about it. No dressing up for me this year. I just had no desire to put forth that effort. BUT today I was in charge of dinner for my roomates so I got homemade ravioli from this little man down the street. Had a convo with him in Italian (successfully. for once). And then roasted pumpkin, onions, apples, garlic, and zucchini with a balsamic glaze. Tossed that with the ravs and let me tell you it was DANK.

Not to brag or anything.

But it was phenom.

I'm totally bragging.

And now I have pumpkin seeds to eat tomorrow. Happiest girl.

Happy Halloweenie!

Next post on Milano. Get excited.