St. Patrick's Day

Last night I went out with beautiful [and super cool] Steph.

We drank green beer, took pictures of each other, got a shower of beer from a drunkard that drop her bottle; and talked and talked and talked. She was wearing black pants and a black turtle neck, with a green sweater. I wore my Dr. Marteen's and a light green shirt.

She told me about her life; told me that she loves chocolate and candy, and when I guessed right that her favorite ice cream was Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough from Ben&Jerry's she burst in laughs. She told why she came to the US, what she's gona study when she goes back to Germany [tourism], what she would really like to study [journalism] and what her dream job would be [photographer for National Geographic]. She likes to sleep late, to play basketball and to do Yoga; she likes to speed in her little car and once got a ticket for it; she walks the dog every now and then and her host parents have dinner at six o'clock every night; she gets hungry late at night and piles up on whatever is available in the refrigerator. She's taller than me and laughed when I told her that I looked like a dwarf besides her; her Mom came to visit her from Germany and she misses her a lot.

I also told her a bit about me, even though I'm kind of bad at talking about myself. I told her about South America and China; about college and travels, and about likes and dislikes.

That was a very nice night, with a cool conversation and lots of smiles and laughs. My loudest one was when she showed me her fake ID, the one she uses to get into bars and clubs, because she's only twenty: I told her "You dirty rat"!