claustrophobia, hypothermia, and soft-boiled eggs

I am having a rough day.

On our way to class I tripped over something invisible and wiped out while crossing Engelbergerstrasse. I grabbed onto Julia but down I went. Timber. Totally scraped up the palm of my hands, which are important. Not to say that other parts of my body aren't important, but I use my hands a lot and now, it hurts.
I kind of sat in the middle of the street staring at my bleeding hands while Julia attempted to drag me up. Some guy appeared out of nowhere and started going on about an 'Arzt' (German for doctor) and magically whipped out antiseptic spray. This is my favorite part of the story because it is SO German. I mean, you have to think that a country has got to be doing something right if it's typical to randomly whip out some antiseptic spray. They are so sterile.
Anyway, it stung and smelled retched, so I started screaming to Julia about how he probably sprayed paint thinner on my hand or something. She told me I was talking crazy, which I definitely was. Then again, I don't especially like looking down and seeing bits of gravel stuck into my skin.
I also had to get through my first class without coffee, which I think is a form of torture in many areas of the world. Or it should be, anyway.
Afterward I rewarded myself with a Cafe Mocha at Aspekt, which is probably one of the most delicious things in the universe. I have two lists for delicious things. "Things that my father has cooked" and "Everything else". I very much miss sampling things from the former.

3 days to go, however. The worst part is going to be getting through the flights, because this time I know what I have to look forward to. Coming to Freiburg was exciting because I only had a vague idea of what I was getting myself into. And the traveling itself was an adventure. Meanwhile, going back to Michigan means knowing exactly where I'm going, what I want to do, and who I want to see. The flight itself will be exciting only because I love airports and flying, but after about 2 hours I'll be bored. After 4 my headphones will start bothering my ears. 6, I'll be claustrophibic and unable to sleep. Argh.
Well I am just a ray of sunshine today, aren't I?

Ok, Tuebingen. I will talk about happy things.
Tuebingen was absolutely adorable. It's about 100,000 people, so half the size of Freiburg. I have no idea why it's the sister city to Ann Arbor. I asked a few people but no one could give me a good answer. Oh well. If anyone's wondering, it was a great choice.
If I had gone abroad for a semester, it would've been to Tuebingen. I have a few friends coming over in January and I do indeed plan on visiting. Now, I know that I laahke eet.
After taking roughly 96 trains to get to Tuebingen, we were met at the train station by a group of elderly women who divided us up like cattle. Alex, Julia and I ended up with Carolyn Melchers who organized the whole shindig and was awesome. She grew up in Detroit, went to U of M (and did my program while she was there) and stays in Glen Arbor, MI (by Traverse City) every summer for their art festival. Her husband, who was equally awesome, is German and never stopped smiling. They invited us into their home, gave us each a bedroom, made us some tea, and then we had a long conversation about various things. We talked a lot about differences in German and American school systems, immigration, our plans after we graduate, what Ann Arbor was like in the 60's, etc. She told us that while she was doing AYF, Kennedy was shot. She came to Germany after she graduated at U of M and has been there since.
(Right about now, this story is striking fear into the hearts of my parents)
After tea time, we had dinner, which was probably the best homemade food I've eaten in Germany. Then we went into town to watch a traditional German film that was shown outdoors, called 'Feuerzangenbowle'...Don't ask me. Feuer means fire and bowle means bowl but after that I'm lost. It's a drink I guess, where you pour rum over something, light it on fire, and then catch it all in a big pot. Crazy Germans.
The film itself was pretty cute and I understood it, but I was verging on hypothermia. Julia and I cuddled up to Alex, which was nice since I am cuddle-starved these days. Tuebingen was a lot colder than Freiburg. We saw dustings of snow on the countryside when we were on the train, which was very exciting for all of us. I miss snow so much.
We drank a lot of Gluehwein and crawled into each others coats, but after the film I was ready to go fall into a bed. They took us to the DAI (aka: German-American Institute) and made us talk with Americans who had moved over here and wanted to convince us to do the same. I did my best to be polite, smile, nod, and act alive, but I was not at my best. After however many hours making small talk, Carolyn said she'd take me home. Julia and Alex were fully prepared to go hit the bars, but I was ready for some REI! I heart sleep.

The next day I woke up to Alex standing in front of me wearing nothing but bright orange boxers and a beer helmet, saying "So...uh...I can't figure out how to work the hot water?".
He found the helmet in my room somewhere. It was a weird way to wake up, obviously.
Eventually we figured out the shower and went down to have another amazing meal. I can't figure out how to crack open soft-boiled eggs for the life of me. I was making a huge mess.
After that we got driven into the city, where Carolyn said goodbye to us, after she said "You are all such great kids, I have to say!" I now want to think of her as my German grandmother, even though I very much doubt she's old enough to be. She keeps insisting that we come back to visit and I think I'll take her up on that.
For the rest of the day Julia and I wandered around the Weihnachtsmarkt, which was bigger than Freiburg but comparable. Most booths were for pottery, knitted things, traditional German food, wood toys, or candles. We were given a map to the train station so we were allowed to head back whenever we felt like it, so by 4 we were more than ready.
On one of the trains back (this time we only had to take 93) we sat next to two adorable little girls, who were about 12 or so, and were fascinated with us. I remember how I used to look up to older girls when I was that age...the funny thing is I still feel like I'm their age.

I will be 21 in exactly a month. Wow.

Ok, well, I have about a billion little things to do to prepare my vacation to the US! This trip isn't quite a vacation, but it's not like I'm staying there.
I'm sorry I didn't provide intimate details about Tuebingen but my mind's all over the place right now. I will be home soon, however. I've got my flight info, a train picked out, two suitcases to fill to the max, a burned CD of pictures to show everyone and their mom, and stories galore.
I'm also thinking of bringing home a thing of milk, just to prove to everyone in the US that what they are drinking is not milk, but is in fact white water. Mommy will you get me some cream for my coffee, bitte?

I think I may go take a short Schalfchen. That means 'little sleep'.
The paint thinner is making my hand stick to the keyboard.

cross-dressing in the library

I am updating only because I can feel my mother silently willing me to across the Atlantic Ocean. And she won't shut up about me coming home. I love this, because it makes me feel missed and loved and all kinds of warm, fuzzy things.
I've been busy. And actually busy doing productive, student-like things. Yesterday Julia and I had our Theater Referat, which is up there on the list of "Scariest Things I've Ever Done". (other favorites on this list are the Ferris Wheel at Cedar Point and taking my drivers test the second time)
Most German college classes don't have any homework or work sheets or busy work. Instead, all that's required of you is a Referat and a Hausarbeit. A Referat is kind of like a big presentation, but really you're kind of teaching the class for the day. You have to make a handout, be an expert on the reading, and answer all questions. And, seeing as I am absolutely terrified of speaking German in front of large crowds, I was on the verge of wetting myself throughout the entire thing.
Hausarbeit is basically a 15-30 page paper about what you do your Referat on. Absolutely nothing I would ever worry too much about. I would glady write a 50 page paper in German if it meant I didn't have to get up in front of a room full of people for 10 minutes, even. Gah.
Julia and I wanted to get our Referat out of the way before break, so we picked the day instead of the topic "Heiner Mueller and Mythology". Sounds harmless.
HA.
When we finally go to the library on Friday, and saw the entire section on Mueller, I think that was when we officially started to panic. Reseach is a pain, but imagine doing it in a language you're only half fluent in. And I think the Germans purposely make their libraries impossible to figure out. There is no rhyme or reason to the system. And you're not allowed to check anything out.
We basically unloaded about three shelves and went into overdrive. I pride myself on being a good student, but Julia is could win awards for how indepth she goes into things. However, she also procrastinates, stressed out, and puts too much pressure on herself, I fear.
Needless to say, we were quite the pair running around.
We returned Saturday morning, hungover, underslept, and wearing dirty clothes. We copied about 10 books and then crawled back into bed.
Sunday night and Monday morning were when we did the bulk of what we needed to, got to class late, gave our Referat, survived, and then got Burger King to celebrate.
I also gave Monday morning the official lable of LEVEL 5 HIGH STREE LOCKDOWN. I went back to bed, but Julia was at my kitchen table furiously writing. It was intense.
That afternoon, Julia called me "the most tolerant woman on the planet" and thanked me for her help. I was speechless. It was splendid.
Basically, Heiner Mueller was absolutely nuts. He took old Greek plays and made them crazy to understand. He was a Socialist in East Berlin during the 60's and 70's, so he was basically using these plays to slyly hint about his personal political and philosophical beliefs. He took out punctuation, staging, and many times, the subjects in sentences. And I'm not talking about reasonable stuff, like using passive voice. He prided himself on being a realist and didn't care if he just confused the crap out of everyone.
Now, that would be hard enough in English, but German? Psh?
However, I think we did very well. After we spoke, the class and our professor responded with some interesting questions, all of which we were able to answer. Stephanie told me I didn't sound nervous at all, which was nice to hear.
We don't know our grade yet, but I'm not too worried. I feel that we did well.

Obviously, my entire weekend was consumed by crazy Socialist playwrights, but Friday night Julia and I did decide to get our party on. Her WG was having an "Austausch" party, which I was initially wary of. Her WG is basically my second home, and I have an outrageous crush on her roommate Andi (who has an undeniably adorable girlfriend, of course) so I obviously couldn't miss it. I also simply had to walk up two floors.
Austausch means "exchange". The point of this whole shindig, was to come in clothes you didn't want anymore, because everyone was "exchanging" them the whole night. Everyone runs around stripping and putting on different outfits. Guys were in girls clothes. Girls were in guys clothes. It was amazing.
This all started with some crazy guy running up to me and saying 'WILLST DU DEINE HOSEN TAUSCHEN?'...so I gave him my pants and in exchange got some funky dress. Throughout the night I wore "Mom jeans" (high waisted with tapered bottoms...like my mom), parachute pants, a men's Large polo, a very short skirt, some kid's soccer shirt, etc. My jeans went through several different guys...I don't think I ever saw them on a female. And they didn't look half bad on German men, I have to say. It was kind of frightening. I had to eventually fight Garrett for them back at the end of the night. I left in my original jeans, but got some random men's t-shirt, which I actually kind of like. Julia says one of her roommates has my shirt. I hope she enjoys it.

I'm amazed at how comfortable German men are with sexuality. It's refreshing. For example, they're all phenomenal dancers. In the US I feel like a lot of college guys think being able to move to a beat isn't masculine, for some reason. Meanwhile, running around on a field and running into each other is, of course, respected.
And dancing in clubs in Europe isn't as insanely sexual as it is in the US. Dancing isn't even dancing anymore in the US, and it's obnoxious. Here it's still sweaty and loud and dirty, but you also get personal space. I happen to be a huge fan of dancing and personal space.

This weekend I got to Tuebingen for a night, and then I COME HOME. I am super super super excited for that latter portion. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss having a fridge that goes to eye level. Today I rewarded myself with a day of solitude, which was spectacular. I ran around the city picking up random Christmas gift and then sat in Aspekt...with a Milchkaffee...and Kartoffelsuppe. I got through half of 'Kafka on the Shore'. Niiice.

Ok I am out of whitty things to say so I believe it is bedtime.
My newly aquired men's t-shirt is great to sleep in.

crepes and kirs

Mother, the next time you nag me to update my blog, I am not going to write for a month.

I have no idea why I am currently started an entry, seeing as I am in no mood to be writing right now. I am slightly cranky, which would mean 'extremely cranky' for most people. My levels of crankiness exceed those of the general public. I am unique.
Also, just so everyone knows, about 50% of the blogs I write never actually get to the publishing stage. I think I could safely say that about everything I write, except for my journals. I'll go back and reread certain things and absolutely despise them upon closer inspection.
This is why my living areas are always filled with crinkled up bits of paper with scribbles all over them. Kind of how insane people live, actually.
I also read something a few months ago about how writers are far more likely to be people who bite their nails. I was overjoyed to have a new excuse.
So I bite my nails and live in piles of paper because that's just what I'm passionate about. You are no longer allowed to harass me about it.

ANYWAY
Paris was, of course, mind-blowing. I didn't even realize it was humanly possible to do so much in 3 days, but I think that's partially because Lisa refused to let me sleep past 10. She would just say "I have coffee..."
I will now provide a whirlwind recap. I spent a few hours at Aspekt the other day, writing about 20 pages about all of this, inhaling latte macchiatos, and making my hand cramp.
Ok...

1er Jour
(Thursday night doesn't count because I basically got right into Lisa's apartment and fell asleep. The train ride was uneventful. I just drooled all over my backpack and listened to Disney songs on my Ipod. "Go the Distance" was playing when we rolled through the city of Nancy, which made me miss Mommy )
I woke up to a rainy day in Paris, which didn't even bother me because I was so elated to actually be there. We had toast and coffee for breakfast and I got to meet her host mom. A very attractive, older, very wealthy woman who also happened to have perfect German. The apartment is GLORIOUS and amazingly furnished. And there I was in front of her, sputtering out nothingness because the caffeine hadn't yet kicked in . I also think I had messy 8-year-old boy hair and very short shorts on. Great first impression.
Lisa's "shower" also isn't really a shower. It's a spray thingy in a bathtub. Since I am the most uncoordinated person on the planet AND I am made of about 90% legs, it was way more difficult than it should have been.
The first place we went was Musee d'Orsay, which is about two blocks from Lisa's apartment. This was really the only place I absolutely insisted on going to, so we got it right out of the way.
I was kind of in shock the entire time, considering how many amazing pieces of art I was seeing. Monet, Degas, Renoir, Manet, Seurat...oh it was overwhelming. I took Art History 271 last year, which was 19th Century French Art and was probably one of my favorite classes ever.
I think my favorites were the 2 Monets of the woman in the field with a parasol. I also liked the Degas with the blue tutus. We passed over "Olympia" and retraced our steps through the entire place just to check out a painting of a dirty prostitute. I have no regrets.
After that we lunched at an authentic little French place, where I got veal and Lisa got salmon. The waiters were all incredibly attractive thin Frenchmen who were running amok and yelling at each other. The entire scene was surreal to me. Our food was, of course, excellent.
After that, despite occasional sprinkles which forced us to huddle under Lisa's umbrella, we took a stroll down the Champs Elysees all the way to the Arc de Triomphe.
It was cool how the streets were all spaced out around it but the structure itself wasn't terribly impressive. Just some big military hunk of stone.
After that, we went to the Eiffel Tower and rode up to the second floor. I liked how I was standing on a structure that is known by everyone I know. I could have called anyone at that moment, said "I am on the Eiffel Tower" and they would have been able to pinpoint me in the world.
Thoughts like that make me feel that I am indeed making my way across this planet.
I took a bunch of pictures of Paris with wet streets and then we walked back to Lisa's apartment. On the way we got crepes, which were amazing. Thankfully, they are not here in Freiburg, or I would have them daily. We hung out for a bit back at her place until we went to meet her good friend Sammy at some cheap Italian place for dinner. Sammy is my kind of girl. Lisa says she reminds her of me because she's more about quality over quantity. Right-O. After that we went to their favorite Irish pub in the Latin District for some conversation and hard cider.
I watched some Star Academy, which is their version of American Idol but is even more popular, I guess. I was transfixed and horrified. The men were wearing more makeup than I do when I'm dressed up.
Eventually some other Americans came to meet up with us. Don't ask me how Sammy knew them. The connection was far too complicated. But I was next to a guy from Swarthmore who is in Madrid for the semester, and some girl from Amherst who's in the south of France.
I asked them all about their programs, where they've traveled, how they like it, etc. They were very nice, but seemed a bit put off by my being in Germany. I had forgotten how much I hate that. No Europeans I meet have any problem with me studying here, but I've forgotten how biased Americans are. One just has to really wonder, why are we the only ones?
They also went on and on about how a semester is long enough and they're ready to go home. Lisa and I kind of gave each other a look but didn't say anything. After we had left the bar and were on our way to get on the Metro, we both agreed that we have not accomplished half of the things we plan to here. I am extremely excited to go home for Christmas, but I could not imagine staying there. I need to come back here and do so much more.
A semester is perfect for a lot of people. It's just not right for me.

2eme Jour - Lisa's Birthday
The next morning I once again wrestled with the shower, but it was a bit better. I just have to sit on my legs, as if they're some animal to be tamed. I just made myself laugh out loud.
We went back to the Latin District to have lunch with Lisa's family friends. Lisa's mom is a French teacher in Cincinatti and has been friends with Mrs. Hervier since they were children. Mr. and Mrs. Hervier met when she was studying abroad in Paris for the year and now they've been married 30 years and living in France.
ahhhhHHHH. That thought scares me.
They have three children who are all in their 20's. Peter is semi-dating Sammy, whom he met through Lisa.
They were very nice and spoke in English for my sake, even though Mrs. Hervier asked me in French if I liked German food. I understood and responded with 'Oui!'. I ate some quiche, some tart, drank more coffee, and enjoyed the conversation. We talked a lot about French politics and anti-Semitism in Paris. Afterward Lisa made some comment about how she's glad I'm so versatile. Yes, I can go to a bar and enjoy myself, but I won't be bored to tears if I'm eating quiche and talking about the next French president.
Take THAT, Parents.
After lunch we wandered down to see the Opera house and the Galaries Lafayette, which is kind of like the Saks Fifth of Paris. It was sensory overload, which made me think that Laura would like it a lot. The building itself is stunning and has a ginormous Christmas tree going up the middle of it. There are also about a million lights and the main floor is the makeup-perfume floor. This was also a Saturday right before Christmas, so half the population of Paris was in there. So lights, noise, perfume, and my feet were hurting. I was about to seizure or cry.
After that we went to Sephora where I bought my first grown up lipstick and Lisa got Chanel mascara. I now just need more excuses to wear dark red.
We basically crawled to Notre Dame because we both wore heels for some stupid reason. I took blurry pictures and then we crawled back to her apartment. The 'Happy Feet' posters were mocking us at every bus stop.
That night we met up with Sammy and another girl, Sarah, to take Lisa out for her birthday. We went to get 'moules frites' which are mussels with fries which I guess Lisa loves. We all got huge orange pots of dead sea creatures. I was definitely NOT a fan but I ate the entire thing and didn't complain. Afterward Sarah and I split the creme brulee and the chocolate mousse, so all's well that ends well. It was worth it to see Lisa so overjoyed with the restaurant choice.
We spent the rest of the night at Sammy's drinking kirs royals (black currant liqueur + champagne) and having Michael Jackson dance offs. Lisa got drunk enough to be incredibly amusing, which we all took many, many pictures of. I had to pile her into a taxi and figure out my own way home, which I did successfully.

3eme Jour
My final day in Paris was gorgeous. The Herviers had actually told me that the weather was unusually warm for that time of year.
We wandered through a bit of the Jewish District and ate lunch in the Luxembourg Gardens, after wandering around trying to find someplace that was open. We got mini-pizzas and Coke and met up with Sammy who had gotten Mcdonalds. I got to see where the French senate meets, watch the little sailboats in the fountain, and write a few postcards.
I said goodbye to Sammy and went home to pack up my things. The goal WAS the 4:45 train, but when we finally got to the Paris Gare d'Est, located the International Ticket counter, and saw the line, I realized it wasn't happening. I am used to the German system of efficiency! Not the chaos of Paris!
So, we went up to the counter and asked for the next ticket to Freiburg.
Lisa turned to me, translated, and said it was at 8:30 the next morning and would be 92 Euro.
I, of course, immediately started panicking about never getting home, missing class, getting myself into a huge mess, etc. And when things start running through my head that quickly, they tend to leak out through my eyes. And, right there, in the train station, they did.
The ticket lady immediately took pity on me and started rapidly looking for an alternate route and any reduction she could find. Apparently it was some "special" day where my regular student discount didn't work.
Eventually she found me a train leaving Paris at 10:45 and getting into Freiburg at 7 AM for 79 Euro. I figured that was the best I was gonna get. Lisa kept telling me it was gonna be ok. I'm so thankful she was there.
So, instead of sitting in the train station for hours, Lisa took me back home with her. Her host mom was having her son and his girlfriend over for dinner, but I told Lisa I'd just sleep and not bother them. However, Lisa came in to tell me that a place had been set for me at the table and I should come out to enjoy some of her birthday champagne.
I love wealthy old French women.
The dinner ended up being absolutely fabulous. Amazing steak, potatoes, some cauliflower thing, chicken, wine, and cake to end it all. The son (I forget everyone's name) had brought over his black lab, which I very quickly became friends with. He kept crawling up on me at the dinner table, which I didn't mind one bit. It made me miss my pets.
For a second time I said goodbye to everyone and was off to the train station with plenty of time to spare. It was hard saying goodbye to Lisa and to such a beautiful city, but I was anxious to get back to Germany. I know this language. I know this culture.
I shared a compartment with a German percussionist named Julian who was 23 and spent a few hours flirting with me. We had a long, long talk, until I ended it to write in my journal. He curled up and fell asleep, and demanded that I wake him up at my stop so he could help me with my luggage.
I couldn't sleep well at all, so I spent a long time staring up at the French stars and thinking. It was nice, even though I was horribly exhausted.
At 5 AM we got into Karlsruhe, where I silently snuck out of our compartment. I appreciate chivalry, but I am fine on my own. Once off the train, I wandered for a bit in the cold and the dark, until a conductor asked me if I had a wrong time. I showed him my ticket and I think he could tell I was on the verge of tears. So he told me to get on his train, which was also going to Freiburg, but was moving slower. He said at least I'd be safer that way, and he could look out for me.
He did just that the whole way to Freiburg, which I was so thankful for. Traveling by yourself is scary enough, but when it's on no sleep and your French tickets are confusing, it's even worse.
I got back home around 7:15 and slept until my first class.
THE END

Holy long entry. I did my best to include detail, but that could not have been fun to read through.
Overall, Paris was spectacular, but at the same time it made me realize how accustomed to Germany I've become. German trains arrive to the second. Germans recycle. Germans are ridiculously clean. I never thought I'd miss those things, but I did.
I understood enough French to be aware of the conversations around me, but everytime I try to think in French, I immediately want to go back to German. It's my comfort zone.
Lisa was also an amazing hostess. It made me realize what a mature, considerate, amazing girl she is. I am so happy that we're living together next year.

Ok nonsensical tidbits later. I need some sleep. This weekend includes a Verdi opera, a Brahms piano recital, and a tentative trip to Stuttgart to see that Christmas market. The Freiburg one is up and it's absolutely adorable. The city is so festive.
I also have to clean my kitchen and my bathroom tomorrow. Oh help.
But, at least I have a reasonable shower...

the formative years

I am eating my Thanksgiving meal right now, which actually isn't half bad. It consists of a package of Wasa crackers, Brunch Schnittlauch Buttermilch spread, and a fresh brewed cup of coffee in my favorite Tasse. I also have a Gala apple, and maybe some candy corn for dessert. We'll see how much I can handle. A feast!
I've been doing my best to cut down my pop intake. (And it is POP. Not SODA.) Over here I'm a big fan of Spezi, which is half Fanta, half Coke. But I figure in the past few years I've consumed enough Mt. Dew to put me on the verge of a diabetic coma many, many times over. I guess someone actually told Julia that they found a candy store which sells "the Dew". She said "Don't tell Becca! Getting away from that was the best thing about her coming here!"
I'd have to agree. The thought of Mt. Dew makes me nauseous, actually.
Anyway, I haven't had any pop in 3 days. Now, I just drink coffee, which I'm sure is horrible for me in an entirely different way.
Oh well, it's comforting and suger-free. Coffee reminds me of my father.
Another thing I've noticed is how comforting the sound of clicking heels is. I think that goes back to when I was little, because clicking heels always meant that MOMMY WAS HOME FROM WORK. And that was just the best.
It still means that, but instead of running to give her a hug and show her what I fingerpainted that day, I'm usually nagging her for food or the keys to the car.

I leave for Paris at 17:57, which is roughly in 3 hours. I get into Paris at 23:40, so almost 6 hours on the train. Bah. I was originally going to leave tomorrow morning, but my only Thursday class got magically canceled, so now I get all day Friday and Saturday to terrorize the French. Magnifique!
I asked Lisa what we'd be doing and the list included sightseeing, drinking Strongbow and really good 2 Euro wine, going out for her birthday, and going to lunch with some family friends of hers (who are super French). I am so so so excited.
This will also be nice because she's one of my very best friends at U of M. She lived across the hall from me freshman year and we're living together next year as well. It will be so nice to see her and she's already been in Paris a few months, so I'll have an amazing guide.
AHHHHH

Last weekend was absolutely adorable as well. I've been so starved for music that it was so nice to just sing my pants off the entire time. I absolutely love the Alto parts in all the music we're singing. I just love being an Alto, overall. It's more challenging, and we never really sound screechy.
We were in two "Huette" right in the middle of some little town in the Schwarzwald and rehearsed in the music room of a Grundschule (like an elementary school) nearby. It was very relaxing, other than the stress of having to constantly be speaking auf Deutsch. My head starts to hurt after awhile.
The experience was really the most German thing I've ever been involved with, which was almost more rewarding than making music for hours and hours. Breakfast was bread, wurst, cheese, coffee, and tea. Lunch was always the largest meal and then dinner was usually just soup and bread. On Saturday night we made "Gluehwein" which is absolutely spectacular. It's hot wine with various cinnamon and other spices added in. Lecker.
I also played my first game of German Scrabble. It was actually Ben, Adam and me against Claudia. We told her we were all allowed to cheat, but she wasn't because she was actually German and therefore had the advantage. Various Germans would wander over and do their best to help us. Thanks to "Gaumen" (the word for the upper part of your mouth?) Ben won. Psh. I got stuck with Q. And he would not have known that word on his own.
We also played a ridiculous game of Obstsalat (otherwise known as Musical Chairs). I accidentally didn't get up for "Who has already been in America" because I was zoning out. I got some funny looks.
Someone also said "Who is a real tenor" and absolutely no one stood up. Haha.
I think I also proved myself to the Alto section. Now they all know that yes, I CAN speak their language, I just have to be forced into it. And by the end of the weekend people sitting next to me were asking where to breathe in the music, where certain crescendos were, etc. Everyone was amazingly nice and so interested in why I'm in Freiburg and where I learned to sing.
Ben and I also were wearing Michigan tees on Saturday night and trying to explain to the Germans how important the OSU game was. We were met with a lot of blank expressions. Ben was receiving text messages from Alex who was back in Freiburg watching the game on the Internet.
So, I may have been in-the-middle-of-nowhere Deutschland, but I still knew what was going on with Michigan football.

Alright, maybe I should being packing. But first, I'm going to say what I'm thankful for, which you can write on a tablecloth, Mom.
I am thankful for the presence my grandparents had in my youth. It was far better than any day care and because of them, I learned how to sew, canoe, make amazing cookies, sing ridiculous songs, and most importantly, to learn how to love to read.
I am also thankful that Grandma never let us watch The Simpsons. I feel more intelligent because of it.

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. I will return on Sunday night, hopefully wearing a beret and filled with crepes.
Oh. SO cliche....

academic requirements and moral obligations

My mother yelled at me to write in my blog, so I'll be an obedient daughter. OH that's one of my new words. 'Brav' means obedient, and is one of those obnoxious words that looks like it could be the same thing in English. No, that's 'mutig'. I have become very familiar with that word because it's always being yelled at the bass section in choir about their entrances.
Anyway, I have thus far have had a productive day. I woke up at 10 to go to the AYF office and take care of some paperwork. I am now officially enrolled in classes, which makes me laugh because everyone in Ann Arbor it's already past mid-terms. Afterward, I finally bought my Semesterkarte to ride the Strassenbahn, which I have been purposely avoiding. It's been forcing me to walk/ride my bike more, but I finally caved. The fee for being a Schwarzfahrer (literally, black rider, but means you're riding without a ticket) is pretty steep, and I have been rebellious a few times already.
Then I came home, did my laundry, made lunch, read a bit, and I am now working on my third cup of coffee. I am meeting my choir at the train station at 16:50 to go up to Oberprechtal for the weekend, which I am so excited about. I'm borrowing Sonja's sleeping bag, so this will officially be my first German sleepover. Ohh boy.
Last week in sectionals I stumbled upon another American alto, Andrea, who is here for the year. After rehearsal we walked back into town together (about a half an hour walk) which I absolutely didn't mind because we were just talking about everything and absolutely bonding. She was an English/Music major at Amherst, but then switched to German/Music after realizing she was sick of people asking her how she felt after reading something. She's originally from New Jersey, also has a very musical family, is an obsessive journal writer, and actually prefers playing the piano to singing.
We were both getting overly excited about meeting each other, so I'm excited to spend all weekend with her.
Another funny thing that I suppose I should mention, is how well I can relate to her reason for not majoring in English. That's basically the same thing I thought. Also, most English majors I've met at U of M are absolutely miserable with their major. I was so excited about taking Intro. to Poetry last semester, but after asking around, I decided to run in the opposite direction. These were fellow book-lovers who warned me that I'd come out the other end hating poetry. No thank you. I also do much better with books when I'm not being forced to read them and then go along with someone elses understanding of the text. That just goes along with my personality, though.
For example, during my middle school and high school years, reading To Kill a Mockingbird was never required of me. I find this incredibly rare, considering the overwhelming majority of my peers had to. But, this was also a blessing. I got to read it (and re-read it) on my own, which I loved. Who's to know if it would be one of my favorite books today if it had been presented to me differently.
Now, things like The Scarlet Letter and Great Expectations I would have loathed either way, I think.
Also, I hate how U of M forces every freshman to take English 124: College Writing. Now, I think it's a good idea for the majority of incoming freshman, but I wish they'd take a look at AP scores. If someone did exceptionally well on AP Literature, AP Language, or, ya know BOTH, maybe they shouldn't have to take a class that would basically just be review.
I enjoy easy A's, but I do not enjoy wasting my time.
So, if anyone was curious, that's why I'm not an English major.

Last night Laura IMed me, freaking out about "everything". Poor Punky. So, I gave her some advice, and I happen to think this was damn good advice. I think I would offer this to anyone who is stressing out.
I asked her if she'd been alone in awhile and she hadn't. So I told her to put on some comfortable clothes, wash off her makeup, grab a journal and go to Starbucks. I told her to get some type of comforting drink, like hot chocolate or hot cider. No caffeine. Find a spot in the corner. The corner is essential, because it's easier to get into your own little world there, and you don't feel like you're on display. Then, just write. Doesn't matter about what. Just write about your thoughts, why you're stressed, how you feel about global warming, etc. Sometimes I'll people watch and then write about what I see. Your feelings come out in whatever you write. That's why writing without a bias is impossible.
I hope she followed my advice. The older I get, the more I value alone time. I've also found a favorite corner in my favorite cafe. The front left corner of Aspekt. A Milchkaffee and some Kartoffelsuppe and I'm set for hours. That's what I did last weekend with Franny & Zooey by J.D. Salinger. I would recommend that one, by the way.

All of my friends have run off to Barcelona for the weekend on a whim. I'm not too jealous, because I'm going to Paris next weekend to celebrate Lisa's 21st. And I get to spend this weekend singing Latin and doing yawn sighs which is one of my ideas of a perfect weekend.
The Paris thing was kind of a random decision I made after talking to Mommy. I have someplace to stay, I can live off of French cheese, bread and wine for a weekend, and I mean, SEEING PARIS RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS???
I told Lisa not to worry about the Lourve or Versailles, because we have limited time and I feel like trying to do those two in a hurry would be foolish. But everything else I want to see, including the Sainte Chapelle, per the advice of Cindy Stuart. I also would say I'd like to practice my French, but I'm not going to kid myself. I remember about 20 words, and one of those is 'oublier'. Oh the irony.
Speaking of Versailles, I went to see Marie Antoinette the other night. There wasn't much dialogue or plot, but the film was meant more to be visual candy, I think. It was also kind of nice not being overwhelmed with rapid fire German.
After the film, my friend Monika and I were talking about why we weren't going on and on about how we'd like to live a life of luxury like that. We know too much of the history. Normally, I'd ooh and ahh all about her gorgeous shoes, but I also know all about how many people were starving. Instead, it makes it disgusting
But then, you know, I'm living the life of luxury compared to the majority of people on this planet. Am I as bad at Marie Antoinette? How obligated should I be? am I?

Thoughts like this are what I write about when I'm holed up in cafe corners.

the Bum and the Bard

I wrote this last night, and then Blogger waged a war against me. So, here, NOCH EINMAL....

I, having finished my homework before midnight, now have some time to blog about randomness. This is indeed a rare, rare occurance.
My mouse is acting up, I can't figure out how to work my printer, and my lights occasionally flicker. Having no other logical explanation, I am forced to believe that there is a poltergeist living in my room with me. A logical explanation would of course be that I am just jinxing every electronic machine I own, but I refuse to believe that the curse followed me to Europe. Here, I will be able to cook, clean, and operate basic machinery of the 21st century.
The mouse thing is really obnoxious though. I'm resisting the urge to throw it across the room right now.
Anyway, I haven't been blogging much lately because nothing terribly exciting has been going on around here. I've been doing a lot of sleeping, which has led to a lot of exciting dreams but not much else. Sleeping too much is a sign of depression, but I really think I am an exception to this rule. Hell hath no fury like a Becca on little sleep. And by little sleep, I mean less than 10 hours.
The problem is that my mornings are always free, except for Wednesdays I have class at 10 and THAT course hasn't even started yet. Monday I begin at 12, Thursday I begin at 4, and those are the only days I even have class. I have 4 days of the week to be an absolute bum. I am totally not used to this.
Part of this I will attribute to my American-ness. Maryia and I had a talk about how Americans are continually keeping themselves busy and are always working. I believe it, but I never thought that I was of that mindset. I'm a huge fan of procrastination and spending half the day in my pajamas. I've never really considered myself a very driven student and at U of M, I go to the library partially because it's a social opportunity. There. I said what no one else is willing to admit.
But I guess I am. I guess I enjoy being busy. I enjoy being productive. I enjoy holding an end result in my hands, whether it be a paycheck or an essay.
My roommates wake up at the crack of dawn and are off to school, the gym, work, saving the planet and if they're not, they're cleaning. I usually crawl out of my room sometime around 1. They all smile and say good morning, but all I can do is laugh. I bet they think I'm nocturnal, lazy, or both. I'm Becca, the American Bum.
I need a hobby. Or a boyfriend. Or to train for a triathalon. Or a JOB.
Yes. The most logical answer of course.
But...uh...where do you start when you're in a foreign country and are only half-fluent?
I've got the world's weirdest schedule (which includes class until 8 two nights a week...) which isn't helping at all. I don't know what I want to do or what I can do. In the US, I would never have this problem, because I'd be way too picky about it. I'd want one type of job and then I'd go threaten people until I got it. Here, I am totally out of my element. It's stressing me out and I know it's stressing my parents out.
At this point, the money would be nice, but the feeling of self-worth would probably be even more exciting. My first step will be talking to Ulli and other AYFers. So, enough complaining. I am just giving myself premature grey hairs right now.

Things aren't terribly exciting these days. I guess for awhile I got so used to running off to foreign cities that now I'm bored sitting around here.
Choir is wonderous. We have a practice weekend coming up where we rent out two houses in the Schwarzwald for the weekend to practice, eat, practice, eat, party, practice, eat. I happen to be a fan of all three, so I am looking forward to this lil choir retreat.
I had my voice check with the director, where I just went in and sang a bunch of warm-ups. (I did this after inhaling a gigantic dinner, too) Her only concern is about how well I pronounce the German, which I guess is legitimate. I haven't been raised around umlauts. She said the same thing to Ben. Well, lady, I will show YOU how well I can sing "erbarme mich" 75 times in a row.
And I will do it with good posture and dynamics. HA!
Friday night I went to go see Othello in German, which was required for my theater class, but I would have been glad to do on my own. I personally think Othello is highly underrated. I find Iago amazing. Despicable, but amazing and my favorite sociopath in literature.
Oh, contemporary European theater...
There were times that I was very confused, but it was like a puzzle to figure out. Theater is art and art needs motivation. It also was loaded with symbolism, which I found fascinating. I always find symbolism fascinating. I'm a fan of secrets.
I've also had to hear my peers whining and bitching about Shakespeare, which I don't agree with at all. We have a copy with both the original English and German in it and I've heard numerous people say that the German is easier to read, just because the English is so difficult.
I have patience with very few things, but literature is one of them. And Shakespeare deserves my time. Figuring out a line of his is like solving an equation, but one with words is so much more inviting than numbers. Instead of some line up of cold Arabic numerals, you get a smooth line of poetry that contributes to a larger whole. And all in iambic pentameter, no less!
I find it genius. So do millions of people throughout the centuries. So, forgive me if I momentariy zone you out. You can do the same with me when I complain about video games.
After the play we went to Haendelstrasse to some party in Jan's WG, where I spent the majority of the night dancing...in heels.
Jan and I often have dance-offs, which really are a joke because he's far more talented than I am. The salt in the wound came when he put on Footloose and won. A German? Better with Kenny Loggins? Oh, the SHAME.
I think I beat him on Halloween with Backstreet Boys, though. My 13-year-old self resurfaced. The shortness of my skirt may have helped somewhat. (I'm going to skip Halloween because it wasn't anything extraordinary. We just dressed up and went to StuSie bar and showed the Germans how to properly celebrate)
Anyway, at Jan's the dance floor consisted of 2 very funny Spanish girls, 1 Craig (he showed up out of nowhere), 1 Jan, 1 Becca, a handful of drunk American, and sulking soccer players in the corner. It was quite a scene.
I think my dancing abilities (or lack thereof) are because I'm just not scared of what anyone else thinks. I was wearing heel and dress pants but I went out there, messed up my hair and sang along to "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy". I don't care how ridiculous that song is. It is still a guilty pleasure, and I was overjoyed to hear it being played in Germany.

My Aunt Shirley shipped me a box with 6 bags of Cheetos, SpongeBob Mac & Cheese, and a really cute sweater. I was the envy of all in Theater class. I was ELATED. Oh man.
The only problem is now that's all I want to eat. I am constantly craving orange American food. I made my roommates try mac & cheese, even though they failed to see what all the fuss was about. I told them that every 5-year-old in America would be outraged.
Speaking of roommates...
Hallo Christoph. Alles klar?

I am going to go search for symbolism in my Cheetos as I eat them in bed.

sed vivam

My Studentenwohnheim seems to be all out of hot water. This situation does not a happy Becca make. Of course, instead of getting up at a reasonable hour, I spent half the day in bed reading, so I suppose this is my punishment for being a bum. I'm a college student! I should be fine without showering! Argh.
Anyway, Julia and I just made a feast, so now I'm absolutely stuffed with food. I had Maultaschen (German amazingness), wurst, broccoli, and cappuccino. It's funny, the things that Julia and I bond over. For example, as children of divorce, we are both able to pack a weekend bag in seconds flat. We've also never learned how to cook, never got used to daily family dinners, and lived off of Lean Pockets in high school. I'm not complaining at all. It was my choice to be insanely busy during high school. I'm just saying it's funny when she and I attempt to conquer the kitchen. The end results are getting better, however, so there is a light at the end of the tunnel. My roommates tell me that as soon as I learn how to cook and clean, there will be men lined up out the door for me. Psh. I already cleaned the bathroom and I actually bought chicken breast today. And, anyway, I'm too busy for lines of men. That's my sister's thing.

I survived the first week of classes, even though I'm still unsure about my schedule. My regular Comp & Convo course and Theater in Freiburg are keepers, but History is making my head spin. I may switch into a course about Medieval Art in the Upper Rhine Region, which sounds horribly random, but I've heard good things. And then I think my 4th will be a Deutsches Seminar about Bertold Brecht. Nothing's written in stone yet, so I have some time to decide.
And the BEST part of this week...
I'VE FOUND A CHOIR
A few days ago I picked up the Studiumgenerale book, which lists all the extra stuff students can do, like taking a course for photography, Russian, Microsoft Excel, etc. It also includes "Choere und Orchester". So, after reading each description several dozen times, biting my nails, and deciding how much time I wanted to put in, I went on impulse and picked one. The Madrigalchor der KHG (Katholischen Hochschulgemeinde, so I'm actually singing for the Catholic University, and not my own)
The funny thing is, about 15 minutes after doing this, Ben IMed me and told me he was planning on doing the exact same one. Ben is another AYFer, an ex-"whatever" of mine, and another choir nerd. Of course, he was hacking into my brain waves or something
So last night after running out of class like a crazy woman, I biked like hell (in the dark) to Lorettostrasse 24. Now, I've walked into a ton of first rehearsals, but this one did a number on my nerves. Most everyone already knew each other and were conversing in rapid German, so I kind of cowered in the corner for awhile. They also all looked significantly older, too, so I felt especially out of place.
After a few warm ups and yawn sighs (my very favorite), I was feeling better. I guess I had to remind myself that I can still sing. And our director, Gisela Helb, is absolutely adorable and has a high beautiful soprano. Ben and Adam (another AYFer who's a Voice Major at Iowa) eventually stumbled in, which also was comforting.
Once I actually got some sheet music in my hands and figured out where the Altos were sitting, I was feeling marvelous. The pace was comfortable and nothing was too challenging. I wasn't too scared to sing out. The girls on both sides of me asked me if I'd already been in the choir the previous semester, which I took as a huge compliment. The best part was that when we sang in Latin, everyone already knew how to pronounce everything.
So, our main work this semester is a Mass from Wolfram Buchenberg, who is still living in Muenchen. We're also doing some Bach, Rheinberger, and Schuetz, so I am excited. We were already adding in dynamics yesterday, which is a promising sign.
I still have to do a voice check one-on-one with Gisela, but I don't think it'll be a problem. I feel fairly well-equipped. We have two practice weekends, which Ben and Adam were grumbling about, but I don't think will be a problem. After all, I used to voluntarily go off to choir camp for weeks at a time. And this is just another opportunity to immerse myself in German and meet people.
So, I now have choir rehearsal every Thursday night from 8-10. I also now get to begin my weekends with harmony. I love the sound of that. (harharhar)

This weekend will include hiking, an intense job search, reading Othello in German, and making sense out of my class schedule. Only after landing a dependable job can I even think about running off to Paris to visit Lisa, so that's my incentive. The Lourve vs. sitting around here broke. Hm...

So, in conclusion, my inner choir nerd has resurfaced, and I now know how to steam broccoli.
Off to take a cold shower.

grooming

I just stuffed my face with sushi, which was the first time since coming to Europe. I felt that this was justified a) because I have a sushi addiction b) I have been eating a ton of genuine Austrian food c) it's healthy. It was a far cry from Sadako, but I am satisfied. I bet the owner of Sadako misses me and my wallet.
I separated myself from my group after dinner because I was desperately in need of some alone time. Generally after dinner we go back to our hostel, hang out on our beds for awhile, relax, and eat a lot of chocolate. After this comes 2+ hours of hairspray, makeup, screeching, and yelling at Maryia for opening the window to smoke. Last night after all of this we went out to some bar called Kaktus, which was interesting. Stephanie and I were up at the bar eating Twix bars and drinking Heineken and kept getting hit on by business men who were easily in their 50's. They were all drunk, wearing suits, and going on and on about how they were all CEOs and presidents of major Austrian corporations. True or not, we were totally grossed out. Julia was talking to some firefighter from Texas named Michael who was resisting the urge to run over and save us, I guess, but I think we handled ourselves fairly well. Unsmiling faces work wonders. And I think that they realized that I was focusing mainly on candy. Do not get between a woman and her chocolate.
We've also come up with a code when one of us needs to be pulled out of a sketchy situation. Saying anything about some imaginary guy named Greg is our red flag. I have no idea where that code came from, but we've actually used it. "Have you talked to GREG, BECCA?" translates into "Please grab my arm, insist that you need me to come with you somewhere, and we can run off into the abyss and never be found again."
Sometimes I wish punching a guy in the face could be socially acceptable, but, since it isn't, we have learned to adapt.
On the way to Kaktus we opted for 2 cabs, since we were also with 2 French guys, Julian and Cedric, and Michael the Firefighter. Along the way, the French guys started singing the American national anthem. Mind you, they were also completely sober. I was also speaking to the driver in both French AND German. It wasn't even intentional I just kept mixing sentences together. So the French guys could understand half of what I was ever saying, which led to even more confusion. And Michael was just sitting calmly in the back, not understanding anything.
They were also horrified that I didn't know the French national anthem.

Today we went to the Hundertwasserhaus, which is this really funky decorated apartment complex in the middle of nowhere, basically. But it was nice to go walk out in the fresh fall air and the building itself was really neat. Daniel, Stephanie's roommate in Freiburg, met up with her this morning and has been with us the whole day.
After that we spent a couple hours in the Kunsthistorisches Museum, which is the elaborate, gigantic building that holds all the art the Hapsburgs collected. We spent the entire time in the Picture Galleries, which included Rennaisance and Baroque art by German, Dutsch, Flemish, Italian, Spanish, and French artists. There was also a special exhibit for Bellini, Giorgione, and Tizian which actually had captions in English about painting in Venice at the beginning of the 16th century. I was doing by best to remember what little I know about art, but I sure wish I could have had Molly with me. She's the one who's always telling me racy historical tid-bits about Italian painters.
And, man, I wish pale, healthy looking women were still in style. Sure, there were some messed up things going on during the Renaissance, but I'd much prefer their ideals of beauty.

Yesterday we took the Grand Tour through Schloss Schoenbrunn, which was amazing. This gigantic yellow palace with soaring ceilings and ornate everything. I kept going on an on about how I want to be a princess, but by the end of the tour, Maryia changed my mind.
"Why would you want to be a princess? They all get shot or stabbed with a file or married when they're 13 to crazy guys. "
Hmm...convincing argument.
But still. I want a palace and, like Maria Theresa, 1,500 people to cater to my every need.

Vienna feels more like my kind of city. Prague was wonderful, but it was just too...young. And I don't mean the population, I mean moreso how often the city has had to resituate itself and adjust to historical tumult. It's still settling in and getting over recent history, which is understandable, but I'd need more stability if I was looking to live there. It's also very suddenly become a major tourist destination. Obviously Vienna has been through it's share of uproar, but this city also seems to have a very clear idea of who it is and I feel that much of it has remained continuous for hundreds of years. I respect that, Vienna. Nice work.
It's also very regal and grand, which I also love. Everyone here is groomed, confident, and is constantly in motion. I guess I could kind of guess that I would feel this way coming in. When I first started flirting with the idea of studying abroad in a German speaking country, I wanted to come here. I mean, it also happens to be the classical music center of the universe. That is very, very appealing-.
But, no, Freiburg is good for now. Freiburg is perfect for a 20-year-old who still may be a bit intimidated by a gigantic city.

Ok we have to go figure out our sleeping situation for tomorrow night. There's no room left here, so we get to get up and relocate to the other hostel tomorrow at 10 AM. There are two Wombats hostels in Vienna, so that's convenient. What isn't convenient is packing and repacking.
I am going to go eat more chocolate.

sleeping giant

Ah, I am somehow alive...
Right now I'm sitting at a computer station in our hostel in Vienna, which is absolutely spectacular. We just arrived here a few hours ago and were very pleased to find that we have a 4 bed room to ourselves in a brand new hostel. Apparently the shower is also perfection, though I have yet to try it. I paid 48 Euro for 3 nights, so not too bad. I'm also getting better at mastering the art of packing my backpack and figuring out how to wear it comfortably.
Prague was absolutely beyond words. I felt like I was in the middle of a fairy tale, and our first night there I yelled that it was like Disney World for adults. We did A LOT in 5 days and I feel that we left our mark on the city. Highlights included: a fashion show in the Municipal Building, arriving home at 7 AM after a night in the biggest night club in Middle Europe, falling madly in love with a Czech bartender and terrorizing our poor Australian roommate, Alan. The only major downside was that our mattresses at the Old Prague Hostel were basically a set of springs with a sheet over them, but most nights I was so exhausted it didn't matter. This was also a field daz compared to camping in sub-zero temperatures in Yellowstone. I also bonded with my bed in a weird twisted way. Overall our hostel was good and the location was amazing. I'll get back to Prague someday.
Anyway, much much more about that later, when I have a familiar keyboard to work with.
We somehow dragged ourselves out of bed at 7:30 today and caught a 10:01 train to WIEN. This was an old Czech train which was interesting...The toilets were basically a hole onto the tracks and the seats were upholstered sometime before communism. But we all drifted off into Ipod land (we have 6 among the 4 of us, which I realize is really sad) and dozed off. I put on Loreena Mckennitt and had a moment with the Czech countryside. The customs guys laughed at us because we all got so excited about getting new stamps on our passports. Thus far I have collected 4 new ones and I have two whole pages taken up with my city registration for Freiburg. Oh. Ah. Look at me GO.
We were all very, very excited to get back into a country where we could understand the language. Even on the train Stephanie was pointing and shouting out the city names as they sped bz. Granted, none of us are entirely fluent in German, but even pronouncing Czech was a major issue. I kept giving major roads nicknames, like K-rizzy for some street that was Kristgokavosnsiksa...or something like that. Maryia, thankfully, understood a little and got by with some weird mixture of Slavic nonsense when we had to harass taxi drivers. Most everyone in the city spoke English though, so we didn't have any major problems. But it's a lot more comforting to get back to someplace German speaking, even if it is a violently different dialect. I know here that I can immediately get my point across and be understood, even if the grammar isn't perfect and my accent is foreign.
It's great to know that the German language has become something that's safe for me. Tonight at the restaurant the waiter stopped by with an English menu, which we all scoffed at and ignored. At first he was slightly rude to us, but he eventually warmed up and told us to come back on Friday. I think the knowing German helped with this.
My travel companions are wonderful and are continuing to put up with me, even when I'm a huge pain in the ass. We are all doing some hard-core bonding and have had a lot of laughs along the way. We all feel slightly guilty for being so far from our families. Julia's mother had ear surgery the other day. My daddy's birthday is tomorrow. Stephanie is calling home every other day just to keep her mom from freaking out. It's nice to know that my peers are concerned about similar things, because we all wish we could be two places at once sometimes.
I also have noticed that after something wonderful happens, the first person I think of sharing that sight or experience with is my sister. Obviously my other closest loved ones are considered, but I'm starting to realize how Laura's eyes are probably the most similar to my own. Maybe it's how close we are in age, maybe it's the thousands of experiences that she and I have shared together, or maybe it's the fact that we were created out of the same genepool, but I know that the emotions that well up inside of me would do the same in her. But, I have to say, I did go to Prague and I passed up the Medieval Torture Museum, which is something Laura would never do.
Also as we continue traveling, we are constantly surprising people about the fact that we're American. Apparently, Americans are known worldwide for never traveling, which I never really thought was the case. We've been told by multiple groups that 12% of Americans even own a passport, which absolutely horrifies people. I just kind of smile blankly, tilt my head, and keep my mouth shut. I don't know what's true or not, but I can't say I'm surprised.
We have also let everyone know that we voted for Kerry and if the Bible Belt were to be sold to Mexico, we would be elated. This usually buy us some smiles.
At our last hostel we had two male roommates from a program studying abroad in Rome, who were nice enough, but rubbed Stephanie and I the wrong way. They wondered why we would ever learn German, kept making comments about their English speaking program and their one "stupid Italian class", and proudly talked about ending up in the hospital after Oktoberfest. Now, I applaud them for even coming to Europe at all, but that's hardly doing it right. I realize most people are happy in a little bubble of America, and that works out well for most of my friends and family. But how dare you judge us for doing the opposite. I have no idea which continent I'll eventually end up in, but it's types like that that immediately repel me and make me want to stay here. Yes, we are lucky to be a part of a culture that we love so much and are so eager to dive into, but I don't see how it'd be possible to ignore the rest of this world.
I had almost forgotten how Americans recoil in disgust when I let them know I'm learning German. Here, I'm commended for it. I am met with shocked faces which quickly melt into smiles. It is a warm and welcoming feeling, and each time I feel that Germans are flattered that I have taken such an interest in their language and culture. For example, our waiter tonight. Even though people my age are required to take English here, my studies in German have been my choice. I am so, so happy that I made that choice, back when I was 15. I suppose I have to thank my grandpa for that, though.

Ok this entry was originally supposed to be short and sweet, but my temper interfered. Today Julia asked me how many split personalities I had, 2 or 3, and I told her to hold on, I had to consult with the others inside my head.
I should be out exploring Vienna but it's dark and cold outside, and it's been a long day. Some people next to me are arguing loudly in French. It's amusing and slightly frustrating, since I've only caught about 4 whole words. Maybe it's Senegalese or something...or maybe I just suck at French.

This city also feels a little like it's been waiting for me and my reaction. I know that both of my parents have been here since the birth of me and I also know that Vienna was witness to a very crucial turning point in their marriage. I can't say it's upsetting, though. Almost the opposite, in fact. Granted, I don't know the whole story, and I probably never will, but that's alright. They have both come very, very far since that time and I suppose that's why I feel Vienna has been waiting like a sleeping giant for me, seeing what I'll do, how I'll react, what I'll think of...
I'm sure in these next few days I'll think about it more than once, but not painfully.
Things happened for a reason. I am happy about where I am, and I'm almost positive that my parents are happy where they are. At least for the most part, emotionally.

Off to trash my room some more.

Ferrell and Freud

Ahh! To feud with one's ex-boyfriend at 3 AM over the Internet is truly an exciting experience.
I'm a horrible ex-girlfriend.
Craig, after asking me numerous times if it was ok, booked a plane ticket to come visit me over Christmas. Now, this plan sounded wonderful. I'd have someone I was comfortable with over the holidays, someone to travel with, someone to protect me from creepy dudes in southern Europe...
But then, for once, I started listening to my father, who used the word "closure" several times and then reminded me (for the 500th time) that what guys say and what guys mean are two very different complex things. Our relationship ended when I flew across the ocean, but what I didn't make clear to Craig was that it would have ended regardless. And, I should have. I shouldn't have agreed to have him come here, hope to rekindle things, etc. I was trying to be nice and vague, which is unlike me...Odd.
So, I started thinking about it, and I thought about it a lot. I went back and reread snippets from my journal and I thought about what I want to be doing in December. And I decided that if you sincerely think a guy still has feelings for you and you don't reciprocate those feelings, dragging him around Europe with you over the holidays is not a good idea. I also have no idea what my relationship status will be over Christmas. Probably single, but I never know when Mr. Wonderful European will come crashing in, assuming he eventually does. Yes, I do want to be friends with Craig, but it's too soon and much to dramatic to spend 2 weeks inseparable with each other in a foreign country. Maybe when I get back home we can go grab lunch together, but this is too much.
He argued that he's find with being friends, being easygoing, not letting things affect him...but it's so easy to say that from a couple thousand miles away. Weird, unpredictable things happen when people who use to be close are back together with each other. I hope to avoid that so as not to make the both of us miserable. I just feel like his being here could go wrong very quickly, and I don't want him to waste that much time or money. I just wish my timing hadn't been so off, because I'm really screwing him over big time. But, this is what I think is for the best.
So, Craig, as you are reading this, I hope you realize that I am sorry. I really am. I hope you understand why I'm doing this.
Bah. I feel like a fool.

Anyway, planning my short term future has been the theme as of late. That and wandering aimlessly. Yesterday Alex and I took off to take tourist pics of Freiburg, since the weather was absolutely perfect. He's been in Europe since early June and leaves to go home to visit his family tomorrow, so his mother asked him to take home some pics of F-burg. He invited me along to explore and gloated about getting to go eat sushi when he's home. I am doing my best not to hold this against him.
We decided to climb up Schlossberg, which wasn't terribly difficult but was wonderfully refreshing. At the top there's this big, scary, only-slightly-sturdy-looking tower that I braved. I hate heights and now know how to say "I'm scared of heights" two different ways in German. I figure that makes it legitimate.
Anyway, the view was spectacular and once at the top, I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the breeze. We leaned on the railing, stared out at the city below us, and talked a bit about our goals and reasons for being here. He's such an easy-going guy. It's hard to be stressed out around him.
We rewarded ourselves with ice cream in the Muensterplatz after. I am becoming lovingly devoted to Stracciatella. Bliss.

I couldn't imagine going home right now. I mean, obviously I miss my family and my closest friends like crazy, but I don't feel like being immersed again into American culture is a good plan right now. Even though I get so frustrated so often, I have made amazing advances in my German skills. Going home would ruin all of that. I've started saying really odd things in English, which is so exciting for me. German is also starting to flow more quickly, even though my accent is still atrocious.
As Julia said "I want my English to suck when I go home!"
And, yes, it's different over here, but it's not so different. There's nothing I'm dying without. The things which I miss the most are foods that are terrible for me and hip-hop music. So, really, things that I'm better off without.
Then again, I'm not even 2 months in. We'll see how my mind changes.

Today I spent all day with Stephanie and Wolf, wandering around bookstores in Freiburg. First we got Chinese food, which was probably more amazing and healthier than the same food in the US. Impossible, you say? Then come visit, and we will enjoy some Onkel Wok.
Thus far, I have kept myself out of bookstores, given that I have been too busy to do the amount of reading I do in the States. But it was time to get my fix, and I did. By the 4th bookstore, we found a whole section for books in English. I swear, the heavens opened up and angels came down, too. Right there in Buchhandlung Romach.
After making Wolf and Stephanie wait for me to go through every book there, I finally decided on 'Everything Is Illuminated' and 'White Teeth'. Afterward I lovingly took off the sticker, pre-creased them, and wrote my name in them. I have issues when it comes to book buying, but I figure it's better than drug addiction.
I spent the rest of the night in Stephanie's living room/kitchen. I successfully made potatoes in a pan, which was another small victory for me in the kitchen. Stephanie also shared some of her espresso with me, which was a bad plan that led to a lot of bad dancing to bad techno. Daniel came home from studying and quizzed our German a bit more. He'd just take a dictionary and say random words in English and wait for an answer from us. He's really easy to talk to in German and is fun to joke with. We tried, in vain, to describe to him the genius of Will Ferrell, but I think he refused to take us seriously because we were watching Sex & the City. Hey. Fair enough.
Tomorrow I go in at 2 to talk to Frau Mittman and schedule my classes. I've sort of picked out a few...I'm not that concerned. Anything I take here counts for my major and I plan on staying on the simple side of things. I also probably won't have any Friday classes, which will be spectacular. I am apprehensive about these classes, but I don't think I'm over my head.
We've also now bought train tickets to Prague and reserved 3 beds in an 8 Bed Mixed Dorm in a hostel for 5 nights. I also might add that I am in charge of these tickets since we only got one printed ticket for me, Stephanie, and Maryia. And I made the reservations, which was another new experience for me. I have also made a list of places I want to go and have researched the times and days in which they are open. For students, the Sigmund Freud museum in Vienna is only 5 Euro!
I feel like a travel agent and/or a huge nerd. More the latter. I was originally just going with Stephanie and Maryia, but Julia found out today that her dad's not visiting anymore, so she'll be with us as well.
We leave for Prague at 10:57 on Wednesday and will be on trains for 9 and a half hours. This, my friends, is why I am loading up on literature, since my friends will undoubtedly get bored with me after 3 hours. Probably less.
Alright it's time to go climb up into my loft and pass out into my Ikea bedspread.

intimidating and emulating

I hate the feeling that things are moving forward without me. Or, not even forward. Even if I feel like things are moving in an opposite direction, it frustrates me. In general, I just enjoy it when people are on my level. And I feel like this makes me a horrible person.
For example, I hate feeling inadequate or as if I am in any way unable to keep up with the current flow of things. Then again, I suppose that's everyone. But at the same time, watching someone else flounder while I continue to pursue something also angers me. I think I get unnecessarily annoyed when I have to repeat myself several times or if someone doesn't understand something that I find mundane and simple. My first instinct is to ignore them. Now, if I feel that someone is legitimately trying or that they have the intellectual capacity to handle something and simply can't for some other reason, then I don't get upset. I enjoy helping people, actually. I genuinely enjoy feeling like I'm of use. Giving really is a wonderful feeling.
I have also noticed that I give off a horrible first impression. I often come off as close-minded, snobby, shallow, stuck-up, etc. I've often been told that I'm "intimidating", which I find ridiculous because I'm usually running into things or picking my nose. Even my closest friends have agreed with me about this, but they tell me that once someone gets to know me, they find out who I really am. I mean, I do have my moments where I am a horrible brat, but who doesn't believe that they're a worthwhile person to get to know? Yes, I am definitely not all smiles, small talk and giggles...which is odd because my sister and mother are filled with all of that. I'm the odd one out in the family, I guess. I'm the cold one.
I wish I could be the type to immediately come off as a warm, giving person. I wish I could also give people the benefit of the doubt and accept them and their flaws as readily as others do. Hopefully this will come with maturing and I won't judge people so harshly. It's incredibly limiting. Think about how many opportunities I'm missing out on. I'm missing out on inside jokes, stories, random phone calls, surprises, and connecting with another human being, which I find to be absolutely magical. But then, how am I not adhering to my own philosophy? To be honest, I think it's me being insecure. Very insecure. And covering it up in some weird, twisted, snotty way. I am such a headcase.
The greatest people I know are also the warmest and most accepting. They are never quick to judge, boast, or elevate themselves above another person. I think Jesus said something about this, about how lowering yourself below another person is also the most fulfilling?
Jesus. Now THERE'S someone who knew how to be warm and giving.
Note to self: emulate Jesus

Being abroad is really giving me an opportunity to look at my flaws under that good ol' proverbial microscope. I am not surrounded with people who are quick to accept me and love me regardless of all the stupid things I do. And, yes, I am incredibly thankful for them, but being here is so good for me. Even though at times I want to run off, crawl into bed, and curse myself for leaving The Land of Comfort and Kraft Mac & Cheese, I am happy here. I am elated that this is a challenge for me and my people skills. I love people and the millions of things they have to offer. Now, I need to start acting like it.

These past few days have been...ehhh...We finished up our 4 week class, which was exciting. Now we're in the process of picking out our classes, which won't be too difficult. Since we really have had no obligations, this has led to a lot of running around Freiburg wildly. Today Julia and I sat in my kitchen for basically the entire afternoon eating bread, fishsticks, Haribo gummi bears, peaches, french fries, coffee....The point of this story is that we were just horribly bored and continued to eat for no reason really. So, it's a Saturday night, and the only place I will have gone to today and will go to will be Neukauf. Right now Julia's up in her room with Ben and Alex watching the U of M vs. MSU game on the Internet. I've never been one for football. I have better things to be doing with my time than watching a bunch of sweaty gorillas running into each other. I realize that there is a certain amount of skill involved, but it's not a skill that I care to study. You can take a certain chunk of my tuition, boys. That will be my contribution.
My only regret is that I am not in Ann Arbor to sell my tickets and then go shopping with the proceeds. Last year for the OSU game I made $200, got to sleep in, and then we lost. That was nice for me, even though 99.9% of the student population and my little brother were heartbroken. Shucks.
Alright, since I am in a cynical, weird mood, I'll cut this entry short. I apologize for all of this boring junk as I try to figure myself out. This blog is partially for entertainment, but on the other hand, I'm also using it as an outlet to vent about life here. And hey, this does have a lot to do with how I'm functioning in Europe.
But now, please, go eat some mac & cheese and read some scripture, for my sake.

welcome to Bavaria

These past 5 days really can't very well be put into words, but I'll do my best. What a trip.
I just locked myself in Maryia's kitchen for 6 hours to study for my final exam in Konversation tomorrow. I also wrote an essay and drank about 20 cups of coffee, so I doubt I will be getting any sleep tonight...or for the next 4 days. I apologize in advance for the abundance of typos that are about to assault you. And for the ridiculous events of my life.
Today was Tag der deutschen Einheit (Day of German Unity) so we didn't have class and nothing was open. The weather was also absolutely amazing and horrible. Incredibly windy and rainy. Mid-study session Julia decided to go for a run but I opted out, given that a person would have to have been insane to do so. Anyway, onto the main event. Get ready. This will be fast because I don't want to hog the whole Internet.
BECCA AND JULIA'S WEEKEND OF CRAZY
TAG EINS (Day 1)
This all began after class on Friday, or probably even 15 minutes before class ended, when I put my backpack on and started giving my teacher a death glare. Julia and I shot out of the International House, figured out the ticket machine at the train station, and were on board an ICE going northeast at 150 kph. The ICE trains are the "sexy, fast ones", according to Julia. We couldn't find a seat, so instead we hung out on the floor by the 1st class bathroom, which really wasn't so bad. We had to switch trains twice and found seats on the other ones, even though during our last leg (from Stuttgart to Ulm) we had to sit in 2nd class smoking. I'm going to start wearing a gas mask around, because I absolutely cannot stand how much smoke there is in this continent. The problem is, I'm a minority here. Bah. Some girl by us smoked two in a row and Julia and I were glaring at her the entire time.
We somehow made it to Ulm where Tom met us. Such a cutie, with wonderful English and even wearing a Michigan tee! We climbed into his Volkswagen Lupo (officially the smallest car I've ever been in) and were off to Laupheim, which is a small little place near Ulm.
He showed us his house, which was big and very German. After showing us to our room, he offered us mineral water and homemade cake. It was so nice to be in an actual home with a couch and a dishwasher...It's amazing the things I miss.
Quickly Tom whisked us off to Schluessel, which literally means 'key', where we met up with a group of his friends having a little going-away shindig for a French friend of theres. Christoph, the French guy, is leaving for a trip around the world in November (he was leaving Laupheim the next day, however) and will be doing it all on his bike. Something like 17 thousand Kilometers...wow.
Anyway, at first I was incredibly intimidated by this group, but they quickly warmed up to us, asked me ton of questions, and began offering us shots of something called "sambuko". This was a clear liquid served with 3 coffee beans and first had to be lit on fire. It was awful. You think the fact that it's flammable would have alerted me to this fact. But they told me it was a specialty around the region, so I figured I'd give it a go.
After Schluessel we went to some other place where I sat down and had a heated conversation with Christoph over some Cape Town wine. I asked him if he'd ever been to America and he quickly said "No and I have no interest to do so." Now, contrary to many things I write in here, I do love my country and in many ways I'm proud of it. So this statement immediately took me aback, but I proceeded with caution and I think I handled it well. I talked with him about what I personally didn't like about America and we agreed that the ignorance is probably the worst. But I assured him that it's a worthy place to visit and I gave him some cool cities he should visit, like Boston, Chicago, or San Fransisco. Who knows if I made any sort of impression but I hope he changes his mind. After this conversation we took out a present he had just gotten, called an OhneWoerterbuch (dictionary without words). This was a cool little book that only had pictures of things that would be useful for a traveler, so that in a foreign land, one could just walk up to someone and point at the book if they needed anything. Christoph started pointing at things and making me say them in French. I got yelled at, loudly and in French, for mixing up jambon and poisson, but at the end of the night he gave me his business card and told me to definitely e-mail him if I plan on being in Paris in the next two months. He promised to show me the best places, and not the ones filled with tourists.
I just love collecting European connections.
That night I curled up in a real German feather bed.
TAG ZWEI
I got to sleep in (which I personally think is one of the best things in life) and awoke to a sunny German afternoon. For lunch we had coffee and Broetchen (little breads) with all kinds of jam, cream cheese, butter, etc. His mom also brought in wurst, cheese and walnuts from their backyard. I was in heaven.
After feasting, we packed up the car and took off to Ulm to wander around for an hour or two. I got to see the world's tallest church, which was pretty impressive. We also wandered around the older part of town for a bit and enjoyed walking by the Donau (Danube). I, however, was most impressed with the parking lot. There are places called Frauenparkplaetze, which are spots near the front reserved for women driving alone, so they don't have to walk far at night. HOW COOL IS THAT? I mean, yes, I understand spots reserved for the handicapped, and pregnant women, but finally someone realizes how creepy parking lots are for women walking alone. Finally.
We took off for Muenchen (Munich) after we got our fill of Ulm. I curled up in the backseat with my Ipod and my journal for most of the trip. Antisocial, but necessary. As I get older I'm becoming more introverted.
We got into Muenchen sometime that night and got wonderfully lost. Tom was on the phone with various people, Julia was on the phone with her half-sister that lives in Muenchen, and I was just staring in awe at yet another place in the world that I had never been. We drove by the actual Oktoberfest which looked absolutely insane. Basically Cedar Point on a busy day plus copious amounts of beer, so you can imagine the havoc. Actually, I take that back. You really can't. It was that intense. I was ready to jump out and immediately partake.
We eventually made it to where we were staying, which was a FRAT HOUSE. Now, in the US, I would run from a frat house like killer bees were chasing me, but here I really didn't have a choice. It was a place, and it was free, and I was about to go to Oktoberfest.
That night we went to meet up with our host, Nico, whom Tom knew from Laupheim. I got forwarned about Nico, whom was described to me as "good-looking", "well-dressed", and a guy picky that only went for "10's". This, of course, piqued my interest. I always enjoy a challenge. And, hey, I am a 10. (Dad, stop rolling your eyes)
So, we went to meet up with Nico and his friends and I quickly came to find that Tom was absolutely telling the truth. I was elated and quickly switched into "Becca when she's interested in a boy" mode. Nico was basically the German equivalent of my type, which is basically tall, preppy, and intelligent. Just like my Dad. Oh Lord. He also invented a bottle opener which has a patent on it, and he gets money for every one sold. That's CRAZY. He studies something that has to do with designing things or making furniture. I figured this out by snooping through his homework. Shh.
This was also the first guy that I've even remotely been interested in during my time here. So, take that, all who think I am boy crazy. I made it exactly a month. And he gave me butterflies, which is something I haven't felt in a long time.
That night we ran around Muenchen. We spent most of our time in some crazy Irish bar, singing U2 songs and jumping around. I found some hilarious Irish guys who refused to believe I was American, which was confusing, because they wouldn't tell me why. After dancing circles around each other for a bit it finally became clear to me that Nico liked me back. What a happy, happy moment. He later told me he really liked how confident I was, and my eyes. He was also really gentlemanly about it. Very unlike guys in the US, but then again it's not like American boys treat me horribly. It was just different. But I think it's partially cuz he's just that kind of guy. He was very polished and European. A nice change.
That night I crashed on a mattress in the main room of a frat house in Muenchen. Somehow, I never thought I'd say that.
TAG DREI
I was the first one to wake up the next day, which was very much out of character. Tom yelled at me to let him sleep but I wasn't listening. We took off for the Wiesen (what all the Germans called the festival, which literally means 'fields') shortly thereafter. The closer we got to the fields, the more people we saw in traditional Dirndl and Lederhosen, and the more excited I got. Once there, we wandered around the main part of it for a bit, which basically just looks like an amusement park. I told Tom I wanted to get into a beer tent, which he laughed at. But no, I was a woman on a mission. If I was going to do Oktoberfest, I was going to do it right. I was getting a spot.
We wandered around a few tents, which were gigantic and filled to the brim with people. Each tent was decorated differently but each had a live band in the center playing German drinking songs. People were standing on tables dancing and everyone was singing along. Hundreds of waitresses were running back and forth carrying impossibly amounts of beer in their arms. There were absolutely no free places and the people milling around were aggressive and ready to pounce on any. After getting somewhat discouraged, we decided just to wait in one corner of the Augustiner tent and see if anything happened.
About 5 minutes later, a waitress came up to us and started speaking to Tom in very hurried German that I understood about a word of. He turned to me and said "She's kicking the people out at that table over there. They've been there an hour." So, Maria, our new favorite person, went over and freed us up a table. About 2 seconds after the people left, some very shady looking guys swooped in and stole it, but Maria quickly went over and started yelling at them that it was our spot. And I mean yelling. It was amazing.
So, we had a table. We ordered beer, which came in this huge 1 Liter glass called a Mass. And we partook in the world's largest festival. After an hour Maria came back to kick us out for the next group, but the guys waiting to take over our table insisted that we come back and join them. So, Julia and I sat back down with Stefan, Rainer, Rudolph, Steffi, and Jan, who were all clad in traditional clothing. After I finished my first Mass there appeared another one in front of me, which was purchased by this rowdy crew. My third was also a gift from them. These hospitable Germans are dangerous, I tell you. They also are continually yelling "Prost!" (cheers) so there's no chance to let up on the drinking.
Needless to say, I was feeling good. They did their best to teach us the words to all the songs. I did the "link arms and sway back and forth" thing, which I learned the verb for but totally forgot. I got up on the table and clapped and jumped around. Julia and I ate a chicken with our hands because "only tourists do it with silverware". We laughed. We danced. We threw pretzels at each other. A random piece of gum even landed on our table but I didn't care because I was too busy singing about being Bavarian while wearing a traditional sweater that Rainer's sister knit.
Around 7 PM, after spending however many hours trapped in this chaos, Julia and I realized that we were not making it back to Freiburg that night. No way at all. But, we needed to get out of there before we died. So, we did. And, don't ask me how we did. That place is like a vortex. It happened simultaneously and I think we were holding hands very tightly when we walked out of there. After all, we are Americans and that was no Budweiser.
Later we found out we were in the tent that only brews beer in old wooden barrels, so therefore, it's the strongest beer at the festival. Of COURSE that's the one we randomly pick.
Back at the frat we just hung out there for the rest of the night. I danced around with Nico and Julia and had countless conversations 'auf Deutsch' with various people from around the world. Julia stayed up til 7:30 having a serious conversation about life with some Croatian guy named Darko who just got back from a vacation where he went harpooning. We ran into 2 German guys who just happened to be from Freiburg and after chatting with them a bit, they asked us if we'd like a ride home the next day. They seemed trustworthy. We said sure. Carpe diem.
That night I slept very well.
TAG VIER
Julia and I both woke up absolutely ready to shoot the hell out of Muenchen. We walked into the kitchen and found a group of guys sitting around, chain smoking and drinking. Literally 10 minutes after waking up, I was offered another beer. I, of course, declined, and began harassing Juergen and Christian to take us home. Juergen, our driver, was very reserved, polite, and sober. Christian was absolutely insane and didn't let us leave for a long time because he had to sit around and help drink all the beer. When we finally did leave, I exchanged numbers with Nico, who looked very sad. He says he'll be in the Schwarzwald in November, so hopefully I can show him around my city then. He was mesmerizing.
About ten minutes into our trip in Juergen's mom's beautiful new Benz, Christian made Juergen stop so he could pick up a 6-pack of Becks. After this, he was all about screaming out the window at elderly German women and offering them beers. For the most part they ignored him. When we got on the Autobahn he held out a beer to some random guy, who began nodding his head eagerly and switched lanes to be closer to us. Julia and I were cracking up. Would you ever see someone holding out an open beer on the highway in the US?
The boys were listening to a mixture of Guns & Roses, horrible German music, and some 80's. Juergen was also getting up to about 220 kph (about 135 mph) which was very exciting. They were fascinated when we bought chips at the gas station, which I guess was very odd to bring into the car. I told him that's what you do on road trips. Christian was also very interested in reading our journals when we brought those out to write in. I had to write 'CHRISTIAN GEH WEG!' (Christian go away!) in mine because he insisted on peeking back to look. He also stole my book and tried to read it aloud. It sounded nothing like English. At all.
We made good time back to Freiburg and had a lot of fun in the process. It was a wonderful chance to practice our German, as Juergen refused to speak English and Christian's was so bad he accidentally called himself a girl at one point.
Once back in Freiburg we tried to throw 20 Euro at Juergen but he absolutely refused. So, we got a free ride home, and didn't get killed. They also let us stop to pee and basically delivered us to our front doorstep. I just love German boys.
THE END

Well, if you made it this far, I have to congratulate you. I don't know how one could get through all of that without thinking I am absolutely insane and giving up. But then again, this was Oktoberfest. And I went and I did it right and am glad. Even though Julia and I had to miss class on Monday and I missed turning in an essay, I have to say it was worth it. Normally I would never do that, but there is a time and a place for studies and then there is a time and a place for taking part in a gigantic party with Germans.
And this was just one of those times.

oktoberfest

Ohhhh she figured out how to post pictures!
Today, I had originally intended to post a nice, big, juicy one, but tomorrow I have a Referat to do. That translates out into "stupid German presentation". We could pick anything we wanted to do, so I'm doing Mozart. I'm just that nerdy.
This is a photo of me in Basel, Switzerland over the weekend. The caption should read: "Gee! Look at this 5 Franc coin!"
We were there on the Sunday, so the city was totally dead. But we wandered around a bit, had some expensive Swiss food, enjoyed the Rhein, took pictures of random pigeons, etc.
I had a good day today. For some reason I was unusually awake and chipper. I also have noticed how quickly my bike is growing on me. Sure, it doesn't look like much, but it gets the job done. Now, all it needs is an appropriate German name. I also went to the AYF office to pick up the cheque for one of my scholarships and the amount is way over what I received in a letter earlier this year, so that was a pleasant surprise. I figure it has something to do with me being a dirt poor student, and people finally realizing that. Now I can afford to go on expensive vacations and ignore that entirely. Huzzah!
I also went for a wonderful run, swept the kitchen floor, and after some experimentation, my dinner turned out fairly well. Julia and I have discovered a loop that takes us for a bit through these gorgeous gardens. I think they're small plots of land that people can rent just to grow beautiful things. Then my final stretch is along the Dreisam (the river that runs through Freiburg) so far away from cars and creepy German men staring at me run.
Alright, well, it is very, very late. Julia and I are making last minute Oktoberfest plans. I figure, we're SO close and if I don't go, I'll definitely regret it. My biggest concern is finding a place to sleep. Apparently, Julia's good friend Tom has offered to drive us to Munich from Ulm and is finding a place for us to crash with friends. Round trip to Ulm is 54 Euro, so that saves us a ton. Hey, as long as I have a floor to crash on, I'm good.
I figure I'm going to try and take it one vacation at a time. That way I don't get too overwhelmed.
Ok, tomorrow I have this stupid Referat, and I may attempt mopping the kitchen floor. That'll probably just take too much out of me, but we'll see. Yesterday I figured out how to buy stamps. That was extra exciting.
Ok. Schlafzeit. I need to give Wolfgang Amadeus the credit he deserves.

emotional epilepsy

I had a wonderful moment today. So wonderful that I feel the need to immediately record it. These intense feelings may also be intensified by all this John Williams I am listening to. Currently, I've got the Luke & Leia theme from Return of the Jedi on repeat. It's absolutely glorious.
Tonight I was IMing my friend Eric from high school, whom I "talk" to online every few months or so. He's busy taking on the world in his own way. He's studying Finance at UPenn's Wharton and is currently over in London doing something with Economics. I'd give it 2 years before he has his own business and it's in the Fortune 500. He's just that kind of guy. I flirted with the idea of asking him to prom way back in the day, but he has since confessed to me that it wouldn't have worked since I'm not Jewish. He's a horribly pretentious jerk sometimes, but after taking AP English 12 together, I don't see how we couldn't have bonded. That class was, in many strange, strange ways...life changing. Our teacher, Mrs. Murphy (who dressed only in clothes from Gap Kids, I think) would say the most mind-bending amazingly intelligent things, and confused the hell out of all of us. We never really knew what to do with this essay or that essay, and for many classes Molly and I would end up in the library reading Vogue. And we were all too terrified to really ask for a better explanation. She was about 5 feet tall, absolutely tiny, and had that piercing, steel blue eyes. I also think I saw her smile a total of ten times. She didn't really care what we did and never kept track, but for some reason we all did the work that we guessed was assigned to us. But in the end we all came out with wonderful AP scores. Around the time we were graduating Mrs. Murphy was looking into adopting a child from Vietnam, who would be her 5th child. I hope she's well now. She was absolutely fascinating and so amazingly smart. I would love to be friends with her.
Ok. MUST KEEP ON TRACK.
Today, while talking with Eric, he asked me how Germany is, if I like him, how long I'm here, etc. So I told him I'm here for the next year, studying German, Philosophy, and hopefully some French. I explained to him that for the most part, I plan on taking it easy, doing a lot of traveling, learning a bit about wine, meeting new people, spending all my money on train tickets and chocolate crepes. For some reason, while doing this, I think I had an out of body experience for a moment. I hate phrasing it that way, because I think it's absolutely cheesy when people do that. But this really was an idea that came out of nowhere and slapped me across the face.
I was just reading these wonderful things I was listing and I thought to myself "Gee...I'd love to live like that." Then, 2 seconds later when I came to my senses, I smiled to myself after remember that those were my words. I own those words and that life. The thought still makes me smile. What a wonderful thing, to be envious of your own life.
This means a lot to me, considering the other day I was randomly moved to tears while listening to a snippet of the score of Meet Joe Black. For those of you who are interested, I happen to think the scores of Meet Joe Black, Pearl Harbor, and Cinderella Man are amazing. The movies themselves are decent, but I think I enjoy listening to them more than seeing them. Anyway, Julia and I were sitting in my kitchen doing homework and I had my computer speakers hooked up to my IPod so we could listen to something classical. And for a good 10 seconds, I think I zoned out and suddenly had tears in my eyes. This happens sometimes. It's like emotional epilepsy. I'll be listening to something that I find wonderful, I'll lose myself in it, and then I'll hate myself for not molding my life around something that moves me so quickly. Then I'll just suddenly be crying and I don't know why until I retrace my stpes. Julia got all worried about me, but I quickly calmed myself down and shook it off. I haven't thought about it since.
So, for me to feel so strongly about a life that at this moment doesn't even include music, I believe is a good sign. Obviously, I plan on being musical here in Freiburg. One more year without singing and I think that I'd explode. Music will always, always be a part of me, but it doesn't have to be all of me. I have good books, family, ice cream, and beautiful fall days, zum Beispiel (for example). I am making the most of my life. This I know.
Alright, I just wanted to recapture that moment. Tomorrow I have to be at the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) at 9 AM to go run around Switzerland for a day. My body will not be happy about the idea of being vertical that early in the day. Schade.