A European American Living in Canada: My Girlfriend is Snookie.

To start: I am writing this two, three, maybe four weeks later, so details could be fuzzy.

For llama dinner before Halloween (wow, that was a long time ago already...), we decided to go to PlayLand. Any idea what PlayLand is? No? Well, good, we are in the same boat (or were). It is this amusement park in the middle of Vancouver, like a mix of Castle Park and Six Flags (Castle Park is this tiny, ghetto park in Southern California. I am about 99% sure an inspector had not entered either PlayLand or Castle Park for about a decade, but whatever.).

Since it is Halloween, it was all decked out to be creepy, but we only found that after we took a nice, long roundabout journey along the perimeter of the park when we arrived. Our sense of direction is, without a doubt, the best, especially since the bus drops us off at the entrance to the park, the entrance that we managed to miss...

Coming in, I had never been entirely upside down on a ride. In other words, I still held my upside-down V-card. First things first, though, the chair swing. We had to start off slow.

So, we climb up, nearly crapping our pants in excitement, when the ride begins it's spinning. Chair swings are never the most exciting ride, but with the amount of energy we had cooped up, we did not care. It was even better since we were the sole people on the ride, screaming our heads off.

Does that say "Help"?

When we got off, Hannah and I bolted to the singing ship-like ride that spins. No one else particularly cared for that ride, so it was just Hannah and I. Mind you, my only experiences with amusement parks are Disneyland and Castle Park, neither really vying for the top thrilling experience, and I remember once flipping the eff out on a swinging ship ride, but that was when I was young and dumb.

We sit down, essentially vibrating from the excitement we could not contain. I am honestly surprised people were not gawking at our apparent lack of sanity. Anyways, the ride started, and it was incredibly fun, not the scary death-trap I remember. It was so fun, in fact, that as we swung nearly upside-down, Hannah and I turned to each other and, laughing, start talking about Plato's Republic and Machiavelli's The Prince. Only us...

...this is where my memory gets foggy, which is funny because about here in the night was when Hannah and I played in the fog machines. Actually, we were having a blast, until the security guard, probably sure we were high as kites, told us to move away from the fog machines. Has anyone else been around a fog machine? They are so much fun! Whatever, that guard just does not know what is up...

I cannot remember which rides happened before the Haunted House, so I will just skip to the Haunted House. So, Hannah did not want to go into the Haunted House, well, neither did Amy, but we made sure she did. Adam decided to go off with Hannah while Amy, Emely, Breanna, and I waited in line. While in line, we somehow got on the topic about how excité does not mean excited but, rather, horny. Breanna and Emely protested a little, saying that je suis excité does mean I am excited not I am horny, but I reassured them, telling them a story:

My French class had the same reaction, except when I told them, they definitely protested, everyone in my group saying that I was wrong. So, I sat in the class, waiting for Mme. Simpson to get to our translated phrase. When she came to ours, she gave out a tiny chuckle and asked the class if that was right. I sat holding my poker face, I wanted to see it play out, I was curious; I was not sure if, perhaps, excité in Quebecois could mean excited. Someone on the other side of the room mentioned excité, and Mme. Simpson immediately was like, "right! Excité does not really mean happy... What is 'happy'?" "Heureux," I say. "Yes! Excité, well, umm, means horny." My groups' face plunged into redness. I sat there smugly.

(Yes, I know, Capt. Morgan, but, honest, I am not generally smug or boastful, but this one time, since the entire group was sure that in their translation, I wanted my minute of smugness.)

Jeez, it is like a surf story*

So, in line, telling this story, a girl comes up to me, taps my shoulder, and asks if I speak French. I tell her I do. She runs to grab her friend. Immediately, this girl comes up to me and asks,

"Tu parles français?"

"Oui."

"Ben, tu es d'où?"

"Californie du Sud, et toi?"

"Paris"

"Oh, Paris! J'aime Paris! Je le visitais cette été passé."

"Oh, vraiment, mais Californie, comment est-ce que tu parles français?"

"Bon, ma grand-mère et d'où Belge."

"Où?"

"Belge."

"Mais, comment est-ce que tu parles français?"

"...ma grand-mère est belge"

"Ok. Tu as combien ans?"

"Uh, 18 ans."

"Tu vas à l'école ici?"

"Oui, l'UBC"

"Oh, c'est cool. Mais, quand tu as le dix-neuf ans?"

"Uhh, août.."

"Oh, cool, donc tu devrais m'appeler. Qu'est-ce que c'est ton numéro?"

"Ben, uhh..."

"Oh, tu as le Blackberry?"

"Non..."

"Bon, je te donnerai mon numéro. Voici..."

"Merci."

UPDATE: I just realised not everyone can speak French, so, rough translation: Hi. Hi. Where are you from. Paris. SoCal. How do you know French? My grandma. How? Grandma. Why? Grandma. How old are you? 18. When do you turn 19? August. Call me then ;)

Except there were some English parts and so much slur. I was essentially getting drunk off of her breath. Anyways, that is how I got a girl's number. And somewhere it came up that she was 25, I think. It is funny that this happens just two days after I was walking down the street with friends, and a passing woman spanks my ass.

Both were kind of awkward.

Actually, it became much more awkward when we were in line for a ride talking about her, when we saw her sitting down. That was when the connection was made that "my girlfriend" looked like a Parisienne Snookie. Brilliant. So, in line, I just pretended that I had with Amy, Hannah, or Emely as my girlfriend(s) and made no eye contact. I am pretty sure she did not see me, luckily.

The "roller-coaster"

After that great bit of adventure and some other possible stuff, we went on a roller coaster that went upside-down, except it was barely a roller coaster (there was little thrill) and going upside down was kind of a let down. Eh, I still have time to find a thrilling amusement park.

OH! And also, Hannah and I went on the circular coaster-thing that was sketch as heck. You board the little cabin, one or two person: I was going with Hannah, no questions asked. We sat down, and I clamped, it was scary. This little cabin swung ever so gently, and the doors barely shut. It was creepy, not going to lie, but, it turned out to be loads of fun, actually.

By the end of the night, we were toast. Like dead, burnt toast. The bus ride was long and tiring, and our beds that night felt so nice. All in all, it was an adventure, a great one.