black coats of death, and swiss train rides.

Pretty much dead, I forced myself out of bed this morning to book arts. It was a true sign that I wasn't feeling good because I didn't even want to go to book arts and that never happens. The Gorilla and I skipped photog this afternoon so we could make the 12:15 train to Milan that would then take us to Luzern, Switzerland. You might be asking why Luzern? Well I can't really tell you why exactly. I just found it, it looked beautiful, we wanted to go to Switzerland, so why not? The minute I sat on the train, I didn't do a simple narco narco, no, I completely crashed. I put my jacket over my head so the sun wouldn't burn my eye balls out. The Gorilla did a reenactment of it tonight and I looked like a black ghost wobbling drunk from side to side. We changed trains in Milan and then for four more hours I fell right asleep, however this time I could sprawl my body across two seats. A lady thought I was dead but I felt more like I was already dead in a coffin 10 feet under chilling there for years. I sounded like an old woman with a 100 year smokers cough, and looked like I had a faucet for a nose. The entire train ride (that part that I was consciously awake for) I thought how wonderful it would be to sleep in my parents bed and sip on my momma's delicious chicken noodle soup that cures all sicknesses. But then reality hit, and the thought that I was going to be in Switzerland cheered me up. We got to Luzern around 7:30 p.m. After two rather adventurous traveling extravaganzas, we had learned our lessons and decided to print out correct detailed instructions on how to get to our hostel. 2 bridges down and across the lake was our little "tourist hotel" (that was the name of it). We checked in with Mr. Eye Patch (the friendliest eye patched man I have ever met) and dropped our stuff off in our room. He gave us a four person room, not on accident, it was all they had available, but this time we were not expecting any other guests to stay with us, we just had a big room to ourselves (by big, don't go crazy with your imagination, it was just bigger than a trailer park, and spacious). We walked down the street to find something to eat at this grocery store/department/mini inferno, recommended to us by Mr. Patch at the front desk. We checked out the restaurant on the third floor but decided that a roll and salad that I had been sitting out all day long was not what we were really in the mood more. Luckily, this place literally had everything from furniture to diapers to crystal to canned tuna to scarves. You name it, they had it. We decided that the first floor grocery store might be more appealing. We scavenged the entire store trying to think of some kind of concoction we could throw together without a kitchen. We ended up buying tortillas and microwave ramen noodle bowls, a banana, a grapefruit with a side of peanut m and m's. Mr. Patch let us use the microwave. After our quite scrumptious and oh so nutritious dinner we dragged our bodies back up stairs and went straight to bed. Ira Glass sang me a sweet tune goodnight, and This American Life cradled into a deep slumber