Matador Network's Blog, page 2135

Normal friend vs. a friend in love

Photo: THOR

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1.

A normal friend believes people have faults and virtues.

A friend in love experiences selective blindness toward the loved one’s faults.

2.

When talking with a normal friend, he or she enjoys discussing several issues they feel passionate about.

With a friend in love, the topic of conversation is one.

3.

A normal friend mocks PDA.

A friend in love is the first one to display PDA…in your face.

4.

While traveling, a normal friend buys some last-minute souvenirs on the last day of the trip: something for their coworkers and friends, a little memento for the family.

A friend in love spends every single day of the trip looking for cute presents for his or her “honey-bunny.”

5.

A normal friend has a relatively well-defined musical taste.

A friend in love slowly gives in to the musical preferences of the loved one, and ends up with insanely eclectic playlists. Then there’s that horrible obsession with dedicating songs to each other.

6.

A normal friend criticizes Valentine’s Day as a marketing strategy.

A friend in love is one other piece in the pink-heart mass production chain, resembling good Chaplin in Modern Times.

7.

A normal friend might call you for your b-day, when in need of help, or simply when he or she is bored and “wants to do something.”

A friend in love calls you…never.

8.

A normal friend complains about people using couples’ photos as profile pictures.

A friend in love spends hours figuring out which pic better portrays their mutual love for all the world to see.

9.

A normal friend won’t remember your phone number even after 15 years of friendship.

A friend in love not only memorizes the phone number of their better half in two days, but also the office number, the parent’s address, the day and time of birth.

10.

For a normal friend, even slightly corny things are already disgusting.

A friend in love speaks in such a weird mellow way you start believing he or she needs a speech therapist. Sentences are suddenly full of cute nicknames, including animals, food, foreign language diminutives, and combinations of all of the above.

11.

A normal friend rationalizes romantic relationships as the result of coincidences, odds, personality match, common interests, amongst many other things we don’t begin to understand.

A friend in love is certain “it was meant to be.”

12.

A normal friend pays attention when you talk.

A friend in love tries really hard to do so, but fails: he or she is unable to focus on any conversation that doesn’t involve their object of desire.

13.

A normal friend might loose their patience with you when you become the mono-thematic “friend in love.”

A friend in love will not only let us talk for hours about our desired object — even if they’re incapable of really listening… A friend in love is the best adviser for dealing with this addiction called “being in love.”

Weird global names for lover

Photo: Ed Yourdon

Have you ever wanted to woo a lover with your prowess in languages? What better way than by giving them a very special name from another part of the world.

Around the world and across languages, people express their love in different, imaginative and sometimes — to our English speaking minds — strange ways.

You may be surprised to learn that some terms of endearment in English like “honey” or “sweetie-pie” don’t translate well into other languages, or that some languages use creative terms than outshine our own in romance (at least in their own way).

Since it’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and now I have someone special to celebrate it with, I thought I’d share some terms of endearment and pet names to call your loved one, from many different languages and cultures around the world.

Irish: My pulse, mo chuisle — and other body part endearments

In Irish we say mo chuisle, which means “my pulse.” This phrase was famously used in the movie Million Dollar Baby, and is the shortened form of chuisle mo chroí or “pulse of my heart.” You can’t get more romantic than telling your significant other that they’re the life force keeping you on this earth.

You can also use mo chroí (my heart), which is popular in other languages, like mi corazón in Spanish, and there are many other “lovely” body parts that people use to express their feelings. In English we might say sweet cheeks, angel eyes, or baby face. Angel eyes — ojos de Ángel — is also used in Spanish.

That said, there are some terms of endearment based on body parts, which, when you think about them, can seem a little odd, even in English. For instance, is baby face ​really appropriate for a gorgeous grown-up woman?

In Greek they say atakia mou for “my little eyes.” This makes sense from an English perspective, since eyes are said to be the windows to the soul. Perhaps the most unusual body part pet name of all, to English speakers, is the Swedish sötnos, meaning “sweet nose.”

Russian: My little dove, moya golubshka — because animals make great ‘pet’ names

Humans (and their body parts) aren’t the only ones who get attention in international terms of endearment. Animals also feature strongly.

Doves are a symbol of peace, so it makes sense that in Russian lovers call each other golubchik (masc) or golubushka (fem). You’ll also find عيون غزال (ywn ghzal) for “eyes of a gazelle” in Arabic, since their eyes are said to be so hypnotic.

In Brazil a gato or gata (cat) is slang for a handsome or pretty person. Germans also use animals with their lovers (we are talking pet names after all!). In German you’ll find häschen (little hare), bärchen (little bear), mäuschen (little mouse), rehlein (little deer), and spätzchen (little sparrow). My personal favourite is the hybrid mausbär (mousebear) which combines the cuteness of both a mouse and a bear for exponential snuggle-factor!

While it may seem weird to call a human a bird, hare, or mouse, the reasoning is of course that each of these are cute little things. A cute little bear is cuddly. You’ll notice that the diminutive term “little” crops up a lot in terms of endearment (as -lein or -chen in German, and more to come in other languages).

The closest we have to this in English would probably be in British English, where long established partners — or family members — use my duck, duckie, or hen ​​as terms of endearment. And of course there’s hunny bunny.

The French outdo everyone though by calling their special one ma puce or “my flea.” Similarly, in Hungarian you have bogárkám or “my little bug.” You can’t get much littler than that!

Persian: May a mouse eat you, moosh bokhoradet — plus more weird and wonderful names for your lover

Along the lines of very little things, in Persian you can be so cute that you’re smaller than a mouse. So small that you can lovingly say moosh bokhoradet or “may a mouse eat you.”

And the Italians, always ready to one-up the French, will go even tinier than fleas and lovingly say microbino mio, “my little microbe.”

Somewhat more vague is the Flemish Mijn Bolleke, “my little round thing.” I’m sure it’s romantic in its own way. There are other countries that emphasize roundness in their affections, like in Ecuador where you would call your girlfriend gorda “fat girl” and boyfriend gordo “fat boy.”

But can you imagine the meaning behind mijn poepie, a quirky Dutch term meaning “my little poop”? Or the (hopefully ironic) Polish brzydalu “ugly one”? Or even better, in Tibetan you can be nyingdu-la or “most honoured poison of my heart!”

In Thai, men over 40 may call their wives แม่ยอดชู้ (mae-yod-choo), which literally means “mother with the most paramours,” or แม่เนื้ออุ่น (mae-nua-oun), “mother with warm meat.” Um…thanks hubby, I guess…

For me, the cultural aspect of language is always fascinating, which is why I like that in Japanese, men call the woman they love tamago gata no kao or an “egg with eyes.” While this may not sound appealing, it’s a great compliment, since in Japan having an oval, egg-shaped face is seen as very attractive.

In Spain, a media naranja is your “other half,” but is more literally a half an orange! The Chinese can be much less romantic on the surface, with women calling their men a 笨蛋 (bèndàn) or “dumb egg.” It’s said like an insult, but everyone knows that it’s in jest.

Chinese: Diving fish, swooping geese, 沉鱼落雁 — a name with an ancient story

Historically, the Chinese have an absolutely lovely expression that merits an explanation:

沉鱼落雁 (chényú luòyàn), which literally means “diving fish, swooping geese” may sound nonsensical, but it’s based on a story about the most beautiful woman in Chinese history, Xi Shi. According to legend, when she looked at fish in a pond, they were so dazzled by her beauty that they forgot to swim and gradually dived to the bottom. A different historical beauty, Wang Zhaojun was responsible for geese forgetting to flap their wings when they saw her, from being struck by her beauty. They would instead clumsily swoop to the ground.

Combining the two makes the object of your affection as beautiful as the two prettiest ladies in Chinese history. That’s quite a feat!

So maybe try calling your loved one diving fish, swooping geese. Then you can explain the sweet context over something sweet.

English: Sweet Pea — and more names from the kitchen and garden

In English, we say sweet pea, peaches, pumpkin, muffin, cupcake, sugar, and of course sweetie-pie, cutie-pie, honey-pie, pookie-pie…what is it with English-speaking Romeos and their pies?

The food theme makes sense to me. Food is sustenance; it nourishes you and you can’t live without it. Keeping this in mind makes the French pet name, mon petit chou or “my little cabbage” seem almost romantic. Indonesians say buah hatiku “fruit of my heart,” while Italians can be a fragolina (little strawberry), and Brazilians say chuchuzinho which is actually a rather bland “chayote squash” (but sounds similar to the French word for cabbage, so they rolled with it).

In Polish, you can be a kruszynko or “breadcrumb” and in Taiwan you may hear lovers calling one another 小蜜糖 (xiǎo mì táng) — “little honey” or 小甜心 (xiǎo tiánxīn) — “little sugar.” Awww, it’s all so sweet…literally!

Spanish: My little heaven, mi cielito — inspirations from the natural world

The wonders of the world around us are another big inspiration for the stuff love poems are made of. You’ll hear mi cielito in Spanish, for “my little sky” or “my little heaven”, as well as mi sol (my sun). In Danish, they have min guldklump, meaning “my gold nugget.” Meanwhile, “treasure” is skat in Danish and tesoro in Spanish. In English, we have my sunshine, my star, my flower, and my petal — although the last one is used mainly in the UK and Ireland.

German: Cute-sweet, schnuckiputzi — now we’re getting nauseating!

The amusing-sounding German Schnuckiputzi is related to the adjectives “schnuckelig” and “putzig,” which both mean “cute” and “sweet.” Cariad is Welsh for “sweetheart” or “love,” and คนดี (kon-dee) is a heartfelt “good person” in Thai.

Spanish, known for it’s intense latin lovin’, has a whole host of cutesy love-terms, like mi vida “my life”, mi rey (my king), cariño (darling, or literally “affection”), amorcito (my little love), princesita (my little princess), dulzura (my sweet thing), querido (loved one), sirenita (little mermaid), and corazoncito little heart).

There’s no shortage of ways, so get to work on expressing your affection for your own drágám (Hungarian for “precious”) in the many languages of the world.

This article originally appeared on Fluent in 3 Months and is republished here with permission.

This blogger confronted her cruelest

Photo by Stian Eikeland

WRITING ON THE INTERNET is the modern day equivalent of crossing a bridge in a haunted forest: do it long enough, and eventually you’re going to meet a troll. I’ve been blogging and writing for a few years now, and there’s virtually always someone who’s ready to jump down my throat, call me a moron, or tell me I’m worthless. And I typically write about travel: one of the least controversial, most beloved things on the planet.

So my trolls show up relatively infrequently, to the point where I can dismiss them as mentally unstable or, you know, just as assholes. But my female colleagues don’t have quite as easy a time as me. Internet trolls are particularly creepy about women writers, particularly when the women are writing about women’s issues like feminism, rape culture, misogyny, or sexism. Women who write about these topics get routinely harassed and threatened by the douchebags who like to hide behind internet anonymity.

It’s not something you get used to, necessarily, but feminist bloggers rightly recognize that their silence means the trolls win. And you never want a cowardly misogynist creep to get the best of you.

One of the feminist blogosphere’s most outspoken voices is Lindy West, who has written for Jezebel, the Guardian, and a ton of other publications. Back in 2013, she was at the center of a debate about rape jokes in comedy, which naturally made her the target of an absolute shitload of internet trolls. West is a pro, so she followed the old internet maxim of “don’t feed the trolls.” At least, she did until someone opened a fake Twitter account with her dad’s name and picture.

West’s father, Paul West, had died a year and a half earlier after a long battle with prostate cancer. The fake Twitter account, called @PawWestDonezo, had a bio that read, “Embarrassed father of an idiot. Other two kids are fine, though.” West does have two siblings, and the picture was an actual picture of her father. The troll had done his research.

Instead of not feeding the trolls, West wrote about it. And the next day, her troll e-mailed her and apologized.

This does not happen. Like, ever. It’s hard enough for a thoughtful person to change their mind on the internet, let alone a frothing-at-the-mouth troll. But West’s nastiest troll did what the nastiest troll’s never do: he realized he was an asshole.

Her troll (who she generously decided to keep anonymous) wrote:

“I can’t say sorry enough.

It was the lowest thing I had ever done. When you included it in your latest Jezebel article it finally hit me. There is a living, breathing human being who is reading this shit. I am attacking someone who never harmed me in any way. And for no reason whatsoever.

I’m done being a troll.

Again I apologize.

I made donation in memory to your dad.

I wish you the best.”

West eventually got back in touch with her troll and talked to him over the phone. You can hear that discussion on this incredible episode of This American Life. In short, the troll admitted that he hated her because he, like West, was overweight, but unlike West, he hated himself for it. He hadn’t thought of her as an actual human being until she wrote about how much his fake Twitter account had hurt him.

He apologized. And West forgave him.

The interaction changed West’s approach to trolls as well: “It’s hard to feel hurt or frightened when you’re flooded with pity,” she wrote in the Guardian. She’s still a badass when it comes to dealing with them, though.

While it would be nice to think of this as a feel-good story, there are still countless women on the internet being harassed and threatened by anonymous troglodytes who either hate themselves or hate women or just hate everything, and it’s worth noting that this is the only apology West has received from a troll. Most feminist writers on the internet don’t have the luxury that I, a white dude who writes about travel, have in being able to dismiss trolls as crazy or dumb.

The internet is a community, like any other, and we who spend time in it get to choose how we treat people in it, and we get to choose how we allow others in our community to be treated. Trolls, like the writers they harass, are people too. Just because they operate behind anonymous screen names doesn’t mean we shouldn’t hold them to the same standard that we hold every other human being to: you must treat others with dignity. Always.

Chinese cars have fresh air filters

NEED a breath of fresh air in smog-plagued China? Go for a drive.

Automakers like Volvo, Nissan and PSA Peugeot Citroen are adding internal air purifiers to their new models to give Chinese drivers better air in their cars than they would breathe if they were walking outside.

So, instead of this:

Photo: @yakobusan Jakob Montrasio 孟亚柯

You can shut out the world (and reality) and feel like you’re driving in this:

Photo: James Wheeler

It sounds like another sad chapter in China’s losing battle with air pollution. But consumers at a recent auto show in Beijing sounded excited about the new technology.

“It is definitely an important index for people who are looking to buy a car,” visitor Wang Jiran told Agence France-Presse. “For the sake of family members’ health.”

Nissan, for example, offers a “Forest AC” system in its Infiniti models that not only filters the air, but also emits a fresh, leafy odor to keep drivers calm and alert and make them feel “closer to nature.”

French automaker PSA Peugeot Citroen’s filter system (seen below) is so advanced it only turns on in polluted environments.

Photo: PSA Peugeot Citroen

Drivers can also add a layer of porous charcoal to capture toxic gases as well as particles, according to Patrick Andre, chief of PSA’s air filtration research team.

Perhaps the Chinese government could add this advancement in technology to its list of reasons why pollution is actually good for us.

By: Sarah Wolfe, GlobalPost

This article is syndicated from GlobalPost.

Cuenca's street art is unreal

In Ecuador, the urban art movement is absolutely massive. Check out some examples — absolutely exploding with color and layers of meaning — in the 17 images below.




1

People who climb the 439 steps to reach Viewpoint Turi are rewarded by panoramic views of a city crossed by four rivers, houses with red gabled roofs, and tons of green space. You can play with binoculars and look for specific places — baroque balconies and churches that stand out because of their Gothic and Renaissance domes. In the distance, rays of sunlight sneak between the clouds and the mountains of El Cajas National Park.

2

A few blocks from the historical center — a World Heritage Site since 1999 — you'll start to see the city's murals. Every 100 meters, the walls become a canvas and the city turns into an open museum.

3

From portraits of elderly people with leathery skin to graffiti that cries out, "I prefer the fat woman’s sandwiches; McDonalds, go away!" all kinds of themes and techniques co-exist. There are also political messages scrawled across the walls, like "Say no to Monsanto," "Unclog the memory," and "What are we teaching to our children?"

Intermission


185
12 differences between a normal friend and a Spanish friend
by Ana Bulnes



3
30 street artists that are blowing people’s minds around the world
by Rulo Luna



3
Lessons learned from 200 hours teaching English abroad
by Flora Baker













4

Paul Desmond’s sprays box is also his support chair to reach the top of the wall. While he outlines his design, tourists watch from afar. Paul is one of the artists participating in a collective intervention to decorate the walls of Hermano Miguel La Salle School. Desmond says, “I started making tags when I was 17 years old. From that moment on, my life changed. If I hadn't started to make graffiti, I don’t think I would have studied at university at all.” Today he is a designer, and when he speaks, you can feel his passion and desire to share his art. He continues, “When you are painting on the walls, you feel that your art is not only for you, but for everyone to enjoy. Everyone, no matter the social class, can see it.”

5

Street art was traditionally painted undercover, at night. Even today, it is seen as vandalism in most European cities. However, in other places like Valparaiso, Bogotá, Montevideo, and Buenos Aires, street art is becoming increasingly acceptable. In Ecuador, the urban art movement is huge, but it takes on different characteristics in different cities. Cuenca is particularly special — it's the only city in the country with a municipal ordinance that regulates street art.

6

The municipal ordinance emphasises providing job opportunities to young artists instead of punishing them. Paul Desmond says that the cuencanos (people from Cuenca) usually look kindly on murals. They come, talk to the artists, take pictures, and then they might even give permission to the street artists to paint the facades of their own homes. For some people, street art has become a great job opportunity.
“I have friends who studied art at university, and they're much better off painting outdoors than selling their works to museums and galleries”, says Desmond.

7

Many artists painting in Cuenca today are art students, designers, and even university professors. According to the interviewees, graffiti painters who make tags are generally teenagers, while those who paint artistic murals are grown-ups and professionals. This is not a coincidence: the University of Cuenca — the third oldest in Ecuador — is one of the best places to study in the country and it offers many art degrees.

8

In Cuenca, little by little, empty spaces on cement walls get filled with colors.

9

The artists are not only creating works of art; they're using empty spaces as a platform for freedom of expression.

Intermission


135
The 22 craziest party hostels around the world
by Matt Kepnes



362
What bartenders actually think of your drink order
by Lisa Millar-Jones




This is what’s beneath the most beautiful ice rink in the world [pics]
by Morgane Croissant













10

The streets are filled with interesting details.

11

This mural says, “Passerby with eyes wide-open: the reforestation starts in the walls.”

12

This one says, “Unclog the memory.”

13

To see this art, you don't need to spend a single penny. You just need to walk down the streets and discover what the walls have to say.

14

Every piece tells a story.

15

This piece says, "Cuenca loves conscious tourism."

16

Political, social, and aesthetic messages are splashed across the city walls.

17

Often, these expressions represent the local culture and act as a thermometer of what it is currently happening in the city.

On running and street harassment

Photo: John Loo

ON SATURDAY, not for the first time, my dad offers to buy me a gun. I’m still in my running gear, sitting on my bed, certain I’m leaving sweaty ass-prints on my good quilt, but I’ve got no choice. I have to sit here, crammed against the wall’s one outlet because my phone can’t hold a charge, and I have to call him. He’s my dad, and I want him to make me feel better.

My pop used to run long distances, too. Both sides of my family are athletic and built for hard labor, and when my parents met and merged, they birthed a batch of strong, sinewy children. Unlike my brothers, I didn’t use my powers to win homecoming games. I never gave a shit about sports at all until one day in college, when I went through a terrible time and needed to run away — and so I did. Running gave me a way to run away, as well as a way to come back to who I was. It also gave me something to talk about with family members who had never understood my lack of interest in sports.

Sometimes, when I call my pop now and talk to him, we talk about running. These conversations feel like another, newer language we are practicing together. It feels good. It gives us a way to connect.

But today I call him because this particular run felt really bad. I’m teary and trying to tamp it down. Before I can finish describing the sexual harassment I just endured from eight separate men during the one hour, 14 minutes, and 20 seconds it took me to run ten miles, my dad interrupts.

“See, now this is why you need a .38,” he says. “Something nice and small you can carry with you at all times.”

He’s joking, but he’s not. We’ve had this conversation before. Dad lives in Michigan, and I live in Chicago, and he is frightened for me. He gets mad at the idea of my vulnerability, and that anger sometimes comes out at me.

“You’ve got to ignore them,” he says for the billionth time. “You don’t have to prove a point by saying something back.”

I hold my breath. I remember that my dad is trying to keep me safe from his limited perch in Michigan, the way he did in September, just before I got on the train to head back and he told me to keep the cardigan of his I had worn all weekend. “Here,” he said then, pushing my hands back when I went to pass him his sweater. “It will make me feel like I can protect you when you’re back in the city.”

During the last decade of my life, I have run a minimum of 20-30 miles a week. In that time I have lived on three continents. In each country, in each village, in each sophisticated metropolis or rural outpost, I have been verbally harassed, physically chased, forcibly touched, and definitely followed. The severity and type of harassment varies, but the objective always feels the same: to try and take away my power as I do the thing that makes me feel most free.

I want to explain this to my dad, but then he will inevitably tell me not to travel, and that’s not the problem. The small number of men in India who smacked my ass at stoplights, or their gentler brethren who ran alongside me while asking me to marry them, are not representative of their entire country — just like the few but ever-present men of Ireland who looked and looked without saying a thing as I passed them on slim and scary country roads, men whose dogs would chase me down for miles, don’t represent all the men in their country. Harassment is universal, and I face just as much of it here in the country of my birth.

The “best” street harassment I have ever received came from a man with one leg calling out “Do your thang, girl,” as he gave me two thumbs up. I couldn’t be mad about him. The worst was when male children no older than thirteen told me to suck their dicks as they threw debris from the construction of the Bloomingdale Trail at my head. Just for a minute, I saw them as little boys, before their faces changed to resemble the face of a man who would later back me up against a brick wall and say, slowly, “The fuck you say to me, bitch?” after I told him I didn’t like how he licked his lips and said, “Damn, honey” while staring at my sports bra. My encounter with him and his friends took place in the same month as the one with the boys who already felt entitled to tell me what they wanted to do to my body. The three words that set each pack off? “That’s disrespectful. Stop.”

When my dad says “See, now this is why…,” I don’t know if this references street harassment, or the fact that I shoot my mouth off faster than I ever would a pistol. I don’t think he means to say it’s my fault. I don’t think he means to silence me when he says “You’ve gotta ignore it.” I do know he means to keep me safe, by any means he can control. Unlike many other men, my dad does realize that he can’t control my actions.

On the phone, I get mad. I tell him I’ve done nothing wrong. “I’m just trying to be recognized as a person,” I say.

He goes quiet. “I know, Kate,” he says, and I can hear now that he is more sad than angry. “But you might be asking for too much.”

Runners are people who are a little bit fucked up. There is a reason we start this merciless, methodical action. While often it isn’t pretty, running saves lives, and it has saved mine. It taught me to love this body when I hated it most — through the eating disorder triggered by an unwanted sexual encounter, through the anxieties that have dogged me all my life. I run to disappear, but the very physicality of the sport has placed me more into my very self than I have ever been. I have to tend to my hurts; my blisters and scrapes, sore muscles and fatigue. I have to tend to my appetite; acknowledge that I have one, that I am hungry for everything, and that I want to grow strong. I have to be tender.

It’s difficult for me to trust men, and it’s difficult for me to trust my body, and for me, these things are terribly connected. When I run, I inhabit myself to the very edges, and then I spill out and inhabit space in a way I struggle to do in my daily, less Under-Armoured way. I move with power and purpose — not like I can never be hurt, but like I am truly alive and free, in sync with my own heartbeat. How dare you — father with a stroller, two businessmen out to lunch, man in a group, boy alone — how dare you take my running, this thing that has put me back into my body again, and use it to try and claim my body as yours? For me, running is an ache and a search and a profound act of self-love. I’ll be damned if I’ll carry a gun, and I’ll be damned if I’ll stay quiet.

This article was originally published on The Toast, and has been re-posted here with permission.

Watch this detailed timelapse of Rio

GO TO FULLSCREEN for this video, and don’t even think of watching it in anything but HD. John Capra, the photographer who works as Scientifantastic created this absurdly detailed timelapse of Rio de Janeiro using hundreds of high-resolution photos. “Each shot is comprised of hundreds individual still images, each weighing in at a whopping 80 megapixels,” Capra explains: “Each individual raw frame measures 10328×7760 pixels.”

To demonstrate how much detail he can capture with this many images, Capra starts each image scaled down to 14% of it’s normal size, and then zooms into 100%. The result is that in what appears to be a single image, Capra is able to capture the life of the city in both a broad, city-wide scale, and in close-up, intimate detail. He specifically created the video to show off what he was able to do with his PhaseOne IQ180 camera, and hopefully it worked: I’d love to see this video done for every city on the planet.

Signs you were born, raised in PA

Photo: Phong Nguyen

1. You’ve pledged a strict allegiance to Philly or Pittsburgh sports teams…

The age-old rivalry of east versus west is alive and well. It’s Flyers versus Pens, Phillies versus Pirates, Eagles versus Steelers. You don’t even have to live in Philly or Pittsburgh to participate in the trash talkin’.

2. …and to Wawa or Sheetz.

Out-of-state friends don’t get it, and will even try to tell you that Wawa and Sheetz are “just convenience stores.” But these so-called friends clearly don’t understand the true brilliance of having a mini deli, cafe, and grocery store all under one roof. Whatever. That just means there will be fewer people waiting in line at the Built-or-Made-to-Order Touch Screen.

3. You even have an opinion on the “gob” versus “Whoopie pie” debate.

While we can’t quite seem to settle on the name, we can all agree on two things: 1) they’re delicious and 2) they’re definitely native to PA, not Maine.

4. You’ve crossed state lines just to buy fireworks…

Then driven right back home to set them off. Because celebrating the 4th of July in the state where the Declaration of Independence was signed should be more exciting than some lame sparklers and trick noise makers.

5. …and envy anyone who can pick up alcohol at the grocery store.
6. You think Thanksgiving is a five-day holiday.

1) Thanksgiving Day, 2) Black Friday, 3) Saturday, 4) Sunday, and 5) opening day of rifle deer season.

7. You were shocked to learn the “cookie table” is NOT a universal wedding practice.

Platters upon platters of delicious homemade cookies for half-drunk and hungry guests — what’s not to love? And, no, cookie tables are absolutely not and should never be considered a substitute for wedding cake. What blasphemy!

8. You owe a lot of your food preferences to the Pennsylvania Dutch…

Real chicken potpie, pork and sauerkraut, scrapple, chow chow, shoofly pie, and, of course, whoopie pies. Don’t try to dispute their true origins with us–we’ll defend them to the end.

9. …and you know PA makes the best sandwiches, no matter which side of the state you’re on.

Nothing says “hangover cure” quite like a Philly cheesesteak or a Primanti-style sandwich.

10. Most importantly, you know all the variations of the second-person plural.

And we’re proud of youse for that. Yinz too.

What $100 gets you in Paris

Photo: Robyn Lee

If you are on a tight budget, no need to freak out, it’s possible to visit Paris without breaking the bank. This is what $100 (88 Euros) will get you in the French capital:

Culture and museums

Photo: Kay Gaensler

$100 will get a generous dose of culture and some treats to keep you going.

For $78 you can obtain a six-day Paris Museum Pass providing admission to 60 museums and monuments in and around Paris without waiting in line. Some of the top museums included are: Louvre Museum, Orsay Museum, Notre Dame Cathedral, Palace of Versailles, and the Arc de Triomphe. The remaining $10 will get you a treat from any bakery on every one of these six days.

You can also opt for a two-day pass ($47.50) or a four-day pass ($63) and stuff your face with more buttery goodness. Your choice.

Restaurants

Photo: Daniel Bagel

Depending on how big your appetite is, $100 can get you:

25 traditional Parisian sandwiches (half a baguette spread with butter and filled with ham and cheese). Most bakeries also have a lunch menu that include one sandwich, one drink (beer is usually available), and one pastry for about $10. That’s lunch for 10 days for you.
3 dinners for two at a crêperie. These Breton restaurants can be found all over Paris and provide great traditional food for little money. A common meal consists of one or two galettes (a savoury buckwheat crêpe), one desert crêpe, and a bôlée of cider.
Way too many pâtisseries.



More like this What $100 of travel money gets you in London


Drinking

Photo: Dan Zelazo

Your travel budget, even small, should always allow you to enjoy some French wine:

$100 will get you about 20 glasses of wine in any café or brasserie.
You can also hit the supermarket and get yourself an assortment of bottles. Prices range from about $5 to $20. Don’t forget to include the price of some plastic cups if you want to enjoy your finds in a park or by the Seine.

Transportation

Photo: Eduardo Arcos

Transportation in Paris is rather cheap and quite efficient. Your $100 bill will get you:

50 single trips on metro lines, RER lines within Paris (zone 1), Ile-de-France bus lines, tramway lines, and the Montmartre funicular. However, a single ticket is only valid for one trip and you’ll have to line up every time you need to travel. Remember that lines can be long and that the self-service machines are often broken. If you need to go to the counter to purchase your metro fare from the teller, I’m afraid you’ll lose faith in people’s kindness, so the following might be better options.
Buying tickets by bunches of ten will save you some money and you’ll be able to ride around Paris about 60 times.
To make the most of you travel money without wasting any time is the Paris visite pass. You can purchase this transportation card for up to 5 consecutive days for $76 and it provides unlimited travel in zones 1 to 5. This way you won’t need to worry about topping up your ticket to go to the airport or check out the Palace of Versailles and you’ll be able to get to treat yourself with the $24 you have left. Croissants, anyone?

Tours

Photo: Tommie Hansen

2 hop-on hop-off bus tours of Paris valid for one day ($70)
One-hour River Seine cruise for 2 ($32)
Private tour of Paris in an open 2CV for 2 adults ($72). The 2CV is the car every French family’s had at one stage; they are bouncy, they are loud, and they are the epitome of cool.
30-minute audio-guided tour of the Paris Catacombs for 2 ($26). Those with claustrophobia issues should scratch this one off their list.

Accommodation

Photo: Gregory

To recover from all that museum-walking, wine-drinking, and bread-eating your $100 will get you:

4 nights for a single adult in a hostel dorm in central Paris.
2 nights for 2 in a hostel’s private bedroom in Paris intra-muros.

6 lies when you move to Pittsburgh

Photo by Patrick

1. “I won’t root for the Steelers.”

Eh — we’ll see about that. Because even if sports aren’t your thing or your home city is a division rival (I’m talking to you, Ravens fans), you still live here. When the Steelers lose, you’ll have to deal with grumpy Pittsburghers for a full week until the team has a chance to redeem itself and the pride of this rust belt city. Plus, being a Steelers fan has its perks when you leave Pittsburgh as well. We have the most Super Bowl championships and an extensive network of fans, making it easy to find a Steelers-friendly bar in any city you visit.

2. “Driving across bridges and tunnels is no big deal. I’ll see my friends all the time.”

No, you won’t. Pittsburgh is relatively small, but getting around can be an absolute nightmare when there are tunnel closures and/or traffic on the bridges. And since Pittsburgh has something like 446 bridges and three major tunnels that bookend the city, it’s nearly impossible to navigate a route without them. You’ll use traffic as an excuse to stay in your own neighborhood (the bars are better there, anyway) and only catch up with old friends on nights when there are absolutely no sporting events, festivals, or concerts going on within the city limits. Spare yourself the guilt and the hassle: make new friends in your own neighborhood.

3. “I won’t put French fries on my sandwiches and salads.”

You may think you like cucumbers and green peppers now, but when you move to Pittsburgh, French fries will become your new favorite vegetable. (Hey, potatoes are technically vegetables, so fries count, too—sort of.) The Primanti Bros. made Pittsburgh-style sandwiches heaped with fries and coleslaw “almost famous,” and you’ll find knockoffs at any serious sports bar in the city. Also on the menu: Pittsburgh-style salads heaped with yup, you guessed it — French fries. Hearty meals and even better hangover cures.

4. “I will not speak in Pittsburghese.”

“How’s come ya don’t wanna learn Picksburgese, ya jagoff? Ya must be an aht-of-tahner.” See how quickly that can get ugly? Basic fluency in Pittsburghese is necessary for your survival here. Even if the people you hang out with are using it ironically, words like “nebby,” slippy,” and “yinz” are still incredibly handy to know. Start boning up.

5. “I don’t need a ‘parking chair.’”

Look, you may have lofty ideals now about how street parking is public and being able to reserve your spot with a chair is ridiculous. Parking can’t be that bad in the winter, you’ll argue. Trust me, it is. The first time you spend all morning shoveling your car out from a pile of snow so you can run errands only to come home and find some jagoff parked in your space, you’ll get territorial. The next space you dig out will be blocked off with whatever foldout chair, trash can, traffic cone, ironing board, or other large household item you have available. And don’t even think about moving someone else’s chair.

6. “I’ll probably move in a year or two.”

No, you won’t. Pittsburgh has a way of growing on people, especially now that it’s making a comeback. It’s been named the nation’s Most Livable City and ranked among the best for millennials and entrepreneurs. What’s more — Pittsburghers are proud of their city’s history and excited for its future. You’ll contemplate applying for jobs in Philadelphia or New York or even Chicago before realizing that a bigger city isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. Besides, with all the bridge and tunnel closures, you couldn’t leave this city even if you wanted to. Oh well, guess you’re stuck with us. Wave that Terrible Towel. Bleed black and gold.