How To Party Like An International Student

To start, the most important thing to note while reading this blog is that while our American schools hate us and don't want us to have any fun, those of the European descent feel a little bit differently. How can I sum this up in 6 words or less?

EUROPEAN. SCHOOLS. WANT. YOU. TO. PARTY.

No ifs, ands, or butts. ESCP Europe wants nothing more than to see their bright pupils study hard during the day light hours, but once the sun goes down, it's a free for all. Maybe that is why these french student organizations are given the ability to rent out entire discos for our own pleasure? I really shouldn't ask any questions and just enjoy the beautiful gift that the founding fathers of this prestigious university have bestowed upon me:

THE RIGHT TO PARTY.

So now that you all have a good understanding of this, it's time to delve into the night. It began early, very early. at 8 o'lock (sorry old folk, but this is early for us), we pack up our belongings and head across the Land of Parisians to our Wisco friends and their dwelling. It was my first time at their apartment, and I already feel shafted for the amount I pay to live in my closet of an apartment. Putting jealousies aside, I will move on. With wine bottles in tow, we were ready to "get down" (Old folk, remember this line?) I, being the normal dumbass that I can be, chose to drink my wine like I had been living in a desert for the past 5 weeks. Rather stupid I know, but bread and water kept me hanging on to the thrill that is partying. We headed to the disco at 11 to ensure we did not pay any cover because hey, this was a party for INTERNATIONAL STUDENTS (yeah baby), and I was not about to pay any money to relish in the fact that I did not belong in this foreign land.

Upon walking through the front door, the bass was booming and the lights were flashing, and we felt it in the blood rushing through our veins saying "Dance....Dance....Dance". You know that feeling. You just gotta dance! (Thanks, Dane Cook). We headed down the majestic staircase while out of the corners of many eyes, I tumble down the staircase landed my ass on 10 solid steps. (Remember the whole bottle of wine I downed?) I get myself up, do not shed a tear because let's be honest, I didn't actually hurt in that state, and say to my friends:

THAT'S GOING TO HURT TOMORROW.

However, nothing can keep me from that dance floor. We head into it and dance the night away. Once our feet couldn't take it anymore, we knew it was time for home. A cab ride, 3 pieces of nutella-clad bread, and a good laugh later, I knew it was time for bed.

So now, it is the morning. And I know that all you readers are probably dying to know how my ass is. It hurts. Ok? Happy? Ouch. IT'S THE LOUVRE TODAY! Let's get ready to see some art, bitches.