I have already sort of planned my mid-life crisis already. Of course, this depends on whether or not I'm going to have one. I haven't decided that yet. Anyone who's ever witnessed me singing along to Ella Fitzgerald knows that I kind of slide around aimlessly and slip into a trance. My roommates have gotten used to me mopping the kitchen floor while twirling around and wailing away to 'Misty'. However, I doubt becoming a jazz singer is very easy for a middle-aged woman, given that it's almost impossible for a young woman. I don't like those odds. My kids will probably also yell at me to shut up so they can pay more attention to their video games. Ew. Video games.
I'm just giving everyone a warning here. Someday, I may convince myself that I am Ella reincarnate and then try to run off and take on the world. Hopefully by then smoking in jazz clubs will be strictly prohibited. That's my main concern. That and having to walk around a stage in heels.
I am going to blame that funny little intro on the copious amounts of Sudafed and iced latte running through me right now. My mind is on overdrive, which isn't really a good thing. I woke up late today and spent most of it sitting in the park reading 'Special Topics in Calamity Physics' and watching the little Kinder running around aimlessly. I had a lot of parents smile affectionately at me. I need to tack a sign to my head that says 'Will Babysit for Homecooked Meals' next time.
I finished my book, inhaled a vegetarian Doener (which was mostly red peppers...divine) and now I'm avoiding the mess in my room and the pile of reading I have to do for this upcoming week. I returned from my last big excursion yesterday, which was Berlin-Hamburg-Amsterdam. Somewhere between Berlin and Hamburg I got the Black Plague. By the time we got to Amsterdam I had a collection of German cold medication, a nasty cough, and a slightly grumpy travel companion. Julia was a trooper though. She did her best to comfort me and even put up with me crying loudly in the bathroom in the middle of the night about missing my mom and not being able to breathe out of my nose.
Highlight of the trip: 3 hours spent in the Van Gogh Museum
Most interesting part: sharing some Amstel Lights with Neo-Nazis in the Red Light District. (When we realized this, Julia and I came up with some creative excuses and literally ran back to our hostel. I have become quite good at moving quickly through cobble-stoned streets.)
Most delicious: My Vanilla Toffee Crunch ice cream cone in Berlin, eaten at 1 AM while lost and indifferent about the situation
Most stressful: arriving at the Berlin Hauptbahnhof with literally 4 minutes to catch my train to Hamburg
Most painful: our plane's downward descent into the Basel Airport. Rapid changes in pressure are extremely unpleasant when you are fighting a wicked headcold.
That will give you a taste of that adventure. It was nice to get out again and go run around like a wild gypsy, but for the most part, I am done with long intense traveling. I need time to go home and be bored for a few months. I am kind of ready to fully understand the language around me. I will live up these last 2 months but I miss my family, friends, and eating every color of Flavor-Ice consecutively. It also breaks my heart that I am missing the 4th, which is the best holiday ever. The combination of good company, good food, warm weather, and fireworks appeals to me, as I'm sure it does most people.
This week I have a ton of schoolwork to do, and then my wonderful mother, sister, and Earl get here on the 14th. I get another week off school to run around France with them. As Laura says, she likes having me around for about an hour, but after that she just gets sick of me, so this will be interesting, because she will get 10 WHOLE DAYS OF ME (dun dun duuuuhhh)
I, being the loving sister I am, already have a fan and ear plugs on hand, for when I breathe too loudly in my sleep. I am also mentally preparing myself for The Raiding of the Closet, The Stealing of the Computer, The Complaining About Bath Products, and the inevitable bi-yearly Talk about how our parents are kind of going crazy and what needs to be done about it. (I'm sure they have similar talks about us, but they are probably more frequent and done on the phone.)
I also have decided that I want to hack off all my hair again, attempt some more French, and go hiking more. My boots just look too clean. My backpack has started showing some wear, which excites me. Thank you, Airport Baggages Goons. I feel like a legitimate traveller now.
Where was I?
BUDAPEST
If I could pick any of my friends to be immediately adopted by my parents, I would pick Natalie. This is an odd thing to say, considering the girl doesn't have a musical bone in her body. She appreciates music, yes, but who doesn't appreciate music? I just feel like the girl would just be a good Patterson. And I would say that about very few people.
I knew the trip would be a success when we arrived in Munich around 10 and instead of bugging me to go run around the city, Natalie asked me if we could just go to bed early. I love experiencing Europe, yes, but I'd rather do so after my requisite 8-9 hours of sleep.
The next day, after more interesting train travel with cranky, old Austrian women and an adorable Belgian family, we got into Pest. Budapest is actually two cities separated by some river. We found our cute little hostel tucked away on the Pest side and went out to a nice dinner at some restaurant where the only employees were old Hungarian men with white hair. We crashed early. Sitting smushed into train compartments and people watching takes it out of you.
(I've often wondered what the 'it' refers to in that phrase. Will to live? Energy to go on? Those all sound so depressing)
The next few days we took on the city. Our first day we took a long tour all over the city. Halfway through it we got to witness a guy walking down the street holding a kitchen sink and whistling to himself. Our tour guide told Natalie and me all about Hungarian history AND all about her secret passion for dancing. Hm... To get from Buda down into Pest we took the #6 bus, which should probably be called the #666 bus to prepare you for what kind of journey it was. I leaned down to tie my shoe and Natalie literally had to hold on to my shoulders with both of her hands while wrapping her ankle around a pole so that we both didn't go a-flyin.
That night we made everyone in our hostel watch Monty Python's Life of Brian with us. I wanted to watch Return of the Jedi, but I lost to Natalie at Rock/Paper/Scissors. For dinner we made spaghetti with peas. Canned vegetables always remind me of church potlucks. This makes them comforting in a grandmother-ly kind of way. Maybe I'm just crazy.
The next day we did everything backwards. After getting in a serious fight with the hostel's coffee machine (some Spanish hoodlums put the coffee in without a filter) we went to spend the better part of the afternoon at the traditional thermal spas in the middle of the city. I got caught in the middle of an intense whirlpool and accidentally trampled a few Hungarian children, but otherwise the experience was completely relaxing. We got to lay out in the sun and people watch. Very nice.
After relaxing and pampering ourselves, we decided to go caving. Now, this was not a mere tour through some vast open cave. This was the most intense physical activity I have ever taken part in. (Not really that impressive, if you know anything about me, but be impressed. Please.)We put on some intense overalls, helmets with lights, and I did not go gently into that good night. I army crawled. I shimmied. I got ridiculously dirty, bruised, and punched in the face by a few clay boulders. Natalie and I also befriended some hilarious brothers from Nova Scotia who are teaching in London for a year.
I only freaked out a handful of times but got through it by whispering "I can do this" under my breath about a dozen times. I think I also yelled it a few times. It's amazing what words spoken aloud can do when you're smushed between clay walls.
After surviving, we went out to get Turkish food with the Canadian brothers. We all compared cave hair and exchanged travel stories. They've invited me to go to Interlaken with them July 27th, to go sky-diving. Bahhh. I wish I could. They were fun.
We left Budapest early the next morning, after slinking out of our hostel at 5 AM. I think I dropped everything I possibly could have and woke up our entire room. I will blame this all on my poor aching body that was refusing to cooperate. We bought out the snack sidestand at the train station and got on our 11 hour train into the depths of Romania.
And that, folks, is the end of this chapter.
Speaking of chapters, I have a few to go tackle before bed, so I shall wrap this up for now.
All of this typing and crooning to Ella is really taking it out of me.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
greenery
I bought this new coffee and it tastes...minty. Very odd. Since I have no idea what kind of coffee I like or what half of the German adjectives mean, I am selecting my coffees based on what color the packaging is and whether or not they say 'klassisch' because I don't want any of that mild junk. And I'm trying not to repeat colors. So, right now I'm using the green kind. And it tastes minty.
Anyhow, guten Morgen from Freiburg! It's a glorious Sunday morning, complete with sunshine, chirping birds, and church bells. I woke up about an hour ago (around 10) and have been laying in bed daydreaming and reading since then. Now, I am enjoying some apricot Special K and a banana with bio-forest honey. And I'm writing in my blog, so as to procrastinate my homework some more. I also have much to talk about, since the past month has been brimming with exciting adventures. And to think, I was bored during the last entry....PSH.
But first, I will talk about right now, and then I will do my best to rewind and recapture all of the excitement for ya'll.
My second semester officially started on April 16th, so I am officially back in school now. It's odd going to class when it's 75 and sunny outside, but it will also be really cool being in a busy college town in the middle of summer. Over the past two weeks, Freiburg has had the most gorgeous weather. Every single day it's sunny, in the 70s, and there's a slight breeze. In addition, the city is fully in bloom and is unlike anything I've ever seen in the US. Granted, we have a Green major and the Germans love their plants, but the whole city smells like flowers. I also spend a lot more time outside here than I do at home, so my spirits are continually lifted by how beautiful it is around here. Every day I go lay out in the grass in front of my Wohnung and read in the sun. Yesterday Alex invited me over to StuSie and we hung out by the lake for hours. KC also stopped by with free cheesecake.
Really, I can't complain about much these days.
I have class Mon-Wed, a total of 12 credits, and they're all "read books and write about it" classes. So, totally my thing.
- Die deutsche Teilung und Einheit in Text und Film - (German Division and Unity in Text and Film) - this is my only AYF course, which is all about East and West Germany and Berlin. So, we're reading some good stuff AND I'm getting more history. The professor is absolutely adorable, very organized, and knows what she's talking about. We also are taking a trip to Berlin May 24th-28th, so I'm excited.
- Erzaehlungen der Romantik - (Stories of the Romantic) - this is an actual Uni course, but one designed for foreign students, so it's just read 30-40 pages of German text and then meet and talk about symbolism and historical context. Easy enough.
- Publikumbeschimpfungen? Deutsches Drama der Gegenwart - (Abusing the public? Current German Drama) this is another foreign student course, but we're reading a bunch of modern German plays that are...different. Luckily, the professor is awesome and really does well to engage the class, so even weirdo German drama makes a little bit of sense.
- American Modernism - and finally, my English class. We're reading T.S. Eliot, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, etc. so this is my blow off class because I could very easily be taking it at home. And I've read all of those authors before. Molly and I had a love-hate relationship with Faulkner's "Light in August" in high school. The professor moved to Germany from America 5 years ago and makes it quite clear that he's very happy about his decision. He's funny and very professor-ish.
So, that's my schedule, which hopefully won't be the death of me. I really have very little work to do but it seems so hard to do, considering I've gotten used to being a total bum. However, I have become a very healthy bum. I'm doing my best to eat a lot better, which means eating a ton of veggies, fruit, and toast with Daddy's Apple Butter. Gala apples, strawberries, bio-bananas, and pears are all cheap. I splurge on red peppers and avocadoes, though. Mmmm.
I'm also running 3-4 miles a few times a week, which really is agreeing with me. It's gotten to the point where I can outrun the mosquitoes, which is a good sign. Running alongside a river at dusk is just asking for trouble. I guess my latest goal is to outrun my dad up at Mackinac Island in September. Mwahaha.
As for my travels, I am going to go one trip at a time over the next few entries so as to not totally overwhelm myself. Really, there have only been 3, but the middle one was 11-days of madness in Eastern Europe. I could write a doctoral thesis on the ridiculousness of that venture, so I'll break it up by country.
-Munich
-Budapest
-Brasov/Bucharest
-Istanbul
-Spain
Here goes.
MUNICH -
I will start of this chapter with the Story of Lizzy. Thus spake Rebecca.
For those of you who don't know, Lizzy and I met during a church road rally when we were in 6th grade. When we first met, we didn't like each other at all, which was actually a promising sign. She was smart, musically inclined, fun to be around, came from a good family, and was insanely mature for her age. Naturally, I hated her.
Eventually we got past all that and became good friends. We spent most of our time together on Sunday afternoons after church, since we went to different middle schools and rarely saw each other. The spring of 7th grade, she called me in tears and told me that her dad had gotten a new job and they would be moving to Missouri that summer. Of course, we swore to stay in touch and always be good friends. I really don't think anyone took us seriously, because middle school girls are always saying that and then they get busy and get boyfriends and blah, blah.
Well, we were different. All through high school we saw each other one or two times a year. Many of my birthday presents were plane tickets to St. Louis. We sent packages to each other, countless letters, and talked on the phone every few months. Before she came to visit, I used to frantically clean my room. Mom asked me if Lizzy could visit more often.
We had really only been good friends for 2 years in Michigan, but our friendship only got stronger over the years. We often wonder if it would have been the same if she stayed in Michigan. I really doubt it, which is a very weird thing to think about.
I think a lot of our friendship has to do with how independent she and I both are. Our egos are evenly matched, so when we need reassurance, the other knows exactly how to react. We also didn't need to constantly be in contact, because we were both busy and doing well in high school, but if something big ever happened, she'd be the first to know. But when we're around each other, it's just as if we see each other every day. I'm completely comfortable in my skin around her.
Granted, we are a lot alike, but we do differ in big ways. For example, Lizzy is a conservative sorority girl going to school in the South. She's had a lot of serious boyfriends. She enjoys waking up early. She doesn't like cats. (Cleo has tried to eat her several times) She likes The Da Vinci Code. (Oh gosh. That hurt me just to type.)
But, even after all of that, we think alike about most things. She's one of my closest and dearest friends, and probably will be for the rest of my life. And I'm incredibly lucky to have that...and to have figured it out when I was 11-year-old.
Anyway, Lizzy spent her Spring Break here, since her dad's Frequent Flyer Miles paid for the whole ticket. Brat. But otherwise, everything else she paid for herself, so she really does love me. I got a frantic call at 10 AM from the Frankfurt Airport about how to work the machine and some old lady who didn't speak English. Haha.
It was great seeing Lizzy reacting to Germany, since I knew it would be paradise for her. The girl is a clean machine (hence the frantic cleaning before her arrival) and loves organization. She saw Kathinka vacuuming her room and whispered to me "Now I know where my parents get it!" We spent the first few days in Freiburg, which she fell in love with too. She got to meet my friends who were in town and get a glimpse into my everyday life. Most of the people were from Wisconsin, which lead to the Miller vs. Budweiser debate. Lizzy gave tours at the brewery in St. Louis for two summers, so she wasn't about to put up with boys from Wisconsin putting down her favorite beer. I just sat back and laughed.
We also went out to Munich for 2 nights, which was a nice little getaway. The trip also made me realize that I could see myself living in Munich someday. It just had a really great feel to it...and happens to be insanely expensive. Of course.
We went on a tour of the city and got to see all kinds of historical landmarks. We went and had a beer at the Hofbrauhaus and chatted with guys from Brazil. We took a stroll through the Englisher Garten and saw naked old men sunbathing. We took the S-Bahn up to Dachau for the day. Once we got there and got off the bus, I didn't notice the gigantic concrete block in front of me, fell over it, and ended up in a pile on the ground. Lizzy, being the nice girl she is, took a picture of me sprawled out on the ground. The bruise actually wasn't too bad.
And, sure, we saw a lot of really great things in Southern Germany, but the nicest part was spending a week with her and just talking. We talked about our families, politics, spirituality, plans for the future, our choirs, being young, her dog Ted, and on and on. Niiice.
We also talked about bridesmaid dress colors. She's thinking brown or moss green. I'm thinking I need to actually date a guy for more than 4-months before even entertaining that idea.
Saying goodbye to Lizzy was the easiest goodbye to do, probably because I've gotten so used to it. I know she's happy and taken care of. And I know she's always there.
I am so cheesy.
Alright. The sun is out again, I have reading to do, and I drank too much coffee. I also have to get ready for Amanda to get here tomorrow and invade my room for a week. I have no idea what I'm going to do with her while I'm in class, but she took German for two years in middle school and she's a big girl. I have to blow up the air mattress again, though. Bahhh.
But with each visitor I have, I get to see the city anew. This place really feels like home and any time anyone asks me what my favorite city in Europe is, I am quick to say Freiburg. I could not have possibly ended up in a better location. I just need to make the most of these last 3 months.
Luckily, I'm blooming right along with Freiburg.
Anyhow, guten Morgen from Freiburg! It's a glorious Sunday morning, complete with sunshine, chirping birds, and church bells. I woke up about an hour ago (around 10) and have been laying in bed daydreaming and reading since then. Now, I am enjoying some apricot Special K and a banana with bio-forest honey. And I'm writing in my blog, so as to procrastinate my homework some more. I also have much to talk about, since the past month has been brimming with exciting adventures. And to think, I was bored during the last entry....PSH.
But first, I will talk about right now, and then I will do my best to rewind and recapture all of the excitement for ya'll.
My second semester officially started on April 16th, so I am officially back in school now. It's odd going to class when it's 75 and sunny outside, but it will also be really cool being in a busy college town in the middle of summer. Over the past two weeks, Freiburg has had the most gorgeous weather. Every single day it's sunny, in the 70s, and there's a slight breeze. In addition, the city is fully in bloom and is unlike anything I've ever seen in the US. Granted, we have a Green major and the Germans love their plants, but the whole city smells like flowers. I also spend a lot more time outside here than I do at home, so my spirits are continually lifted by how beautiful it is around here. Every day I go lay out in the grass in front of my Wohnung and read in the sun. Yesterday Alex invited me over to StuSie and we hung out by the lake for hours. KC also stopped by with free cheesecake.
Really, I can't complain about much these days.
I have class Mon-Wed, a total of 12 credits, and they're all "read books and write about it" classes. So, totally my thing.
- Die deutsche Teilung und Einheit in Text und Film - (German Division and Unity in Text and Film) - this is my only AYF course, which is all about East and West Germany and Berlin. So, we're reading some good stuff AND I'm getting more history. The professor is absolutely adorable, very organized, and knows what she's talking about. We also are taking a trip to Berlin May 24th-28th, so I'm excited.
- Erzaehlungen der Romantik - (Stories of the Romantic) - this is an actual Uni course, but one designed for foreign students, so it's just read 30-40 pages of German text and then meet and talk about symbolism and historical context. Easy enough.
- Publikumbeschimpfungen? Deutsches Drama der Gegenwart - (Abusing the public? Current German Drama) this is another foreign student course, but we're reading a bunch of modern German plays that are...different. Luckily, the professor is awesome and really does well to engage the class, so even weirdo German drama makes a little bit of sense.
- American Modernism - and finally, my English class. We're reading T.S. Eliot, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, etc. so this is my blow off class because I could very easily be taking it at home. And I've read all of those authors before. Molly and I had a love-hate relationship with Faulkner's "Light in August" in high school. The professor moved to Germany from America 5 years ago and makes it quite clear that he's very happy about his decision. He's funny and very professor-ish.
So, that's my schedule, which hopefully won't be the death of me. I really have very little work to do but it seems so hard to do, considering I've gotten used to being a total bum. However, I have become a very healthy bum. I'm doing my best to eat a lot better, which means eating a ton of veggies, fruit, and toast with Daddy's Apple Butter. Gala apples, strawberries, bio-bananas, and pears are all cheap. I splurge on red peppers and avocadoes, though. Mmmm.
I'm also running 3-4 miles a few times a week, which really is agreeing with me. It's gotten to the point where I can outrun the mosquitoes, which is a good sign. Running alongside a river at dusk is just asking for trouble. I guess my latest goal is to outrun my dad up at Mackinac Island in September. Mwahaha.
As for my travels, I am going to go one trip at a time over the next few entries so as to not totally overwhelm myself. Really, there have only been 3, but the middle one was 11-days of madness in Eastern Europe. I could write a doctoral thesis on the ridiculousness of that venture, so I'll break it up by country.
-Munich
-Budapest
-Brasov/Bucharest
-Istanbul
-Spain
Here goes.
MUNICH -
I will start of this chapter with the Story of Lizzy. Thus spake Rebecca.
For those of you who don't know, Lizzy and I met during a church road rally when we were in 6th grade. When we first met, we didn't like each other at all, which was actually a promising sign. She was smart, musically inclined, fun to be around, came from a good family, and was insanely mature for her age. Naturally, I hated her.
Eventually we got past all that and became good friends. We spent most of our time together on Sunday afternoons after church, since we went to different middle schools and rarely saw each other. The spring of 7th grade, she called me in tears and told me that her dad had gotten a new job and they would be moving to Missouri that summer. Of course, we swore to stay in touch and always be good friends. I really don't think anyone took us seriously, because middle school girls are always saying that and then they get busy and get boyfriends and blah, blah.
Well, we were different. All through high school we saw each other one or two times a year. Many of my birthday presents were plane tickets to St. Louis. We sent packages to each other, countless letters, and talked on the phone every few months. Before she came to visit, I used to frantically clean my room. Mom asked me if Lizzy could visit more often.
We had really only been good friends for 2 years in Michigan, but our friendship only got stronger over the years. We often wonder if it would have been the same if she stayed in Michigan. I really doubt it, which is a very weird thing to think about.
I think a lot of our friendship has to do with how independent she and I both are. Our egos are evenly matched, so when we need reassurance, the other knows exactly how to react. We also didn't need to constantly be in contact, because we were both busy and doing well in high school, but if something big ever happened, she'd be the first to know. But when we're around each other, it's just as if we see each other every day. I'm completely comfortable in my skin around her.
Granted, we are a lot alike, but we do differ in big ways. For example, Lizzy is a conservative sorority girl going to school in the South. She's had a lot of serious boyfriends. She enjoys waking up early. She doesn't like cats. (Cleo has tried to eat her several times) She likes The Da Vinci Code. (Oh gosh. That hurt me just to type.)
But, even after all of that, we think alike about most things. She's one of my closest and dearest friends, and probably will be for the rest of my life. And I'm incredibly lucky to have that...and to have figured it out when I was 11-year-old.
Anyway, Lizzy spent her Spring Break here, since her dad's Frequent Flyer Miles paid for the whole ticket. Brat. But otherwise, everything else she paid for herself, so she really does love me. I got a frantic call at 10 AM from the Frankfurt Airport about how to work the machine and some old lady who didn't speak English. Haha.
It was great seeing Lizzy reacting to Germany, since I knew it would be paradise for her. The girl is a clean machine (hence the frantic cleaning before her arrival) and loves organization. She saw Kathinka vacuuming her room and whispered to me "Now I know where my parents get it!" We spent the first few days in Freiburg, which she fell in love with too. She got to meet my friends who were in town and get a glimpse into my everyday life. Most of the people were from Wisconsin, which lead to the Miller vs. Budweiser debate. Lizzy gave tours at the brewery in St. Louis for two summers, so she wasn't about to put up with boys from Wisconsin putting down her favorite beer. I just sat back and laughed.
We also went out to Munich for 2 nights, which was a nice little getaway. The trip also made me realize that I could see myself living in Munich someday. It just had a really great feel to it...and happens to be insanely expensive. Of course.
We went on a tour of the city and got to see all kinds of historical landmarks. We went and had a beer at the Hofbrauhaus and chatted with guys from Brazil. We took a stroll through the Englisher Garten and saw naked old men sunbathing. We took the S-Bahn up to Dachau for the day. Once we got there and got off the bus, I didn't notice the gigantic concrete block in front of me, fell over it, and ended up in a pile on the ground. Lizzy, being the nice girl she is, took a picture of me sprawled out on the ground. The bruise actually wasn't too bad.
And, sure, we saw a lot of really great things in Southern Germany, but the nicest part was spending a week with her and just talking. We talked about our families, politics, spirituality, plans for the future, our choirs, being young, her dog Ted, and on and on. Niiice.
We also talked about bridesmaid dress colors. She's thinking brown or moss green. I'm thinking I need to actually date a guy for more than 4-months before even entertaining that idea.
Saying goodbye to Lizzy was the easiest goodbye to do, probably because I've gotten so used to it. I know she's happy and taken care of. And I know she's always there.
I am so cheesy.
Alright. The sun is out again, I have reading to do, and I drank too much coffee. I also have to get ready for Amanda to get here tomorrow and invade my room for a week. I have no idea what I'm going to do with her while I'm in class, but she took German for two years in middle school and she's a big girl. I have to blow up the air mattress again, though. Bahhh.
But with each visitor I have, I get to see the city anew. This place really feels like home and any time anyone asks me what my favorite city in Europe is, I am quick to say Freiburg. I could not have possibly ended up in a better location. I just need to make the most of these last 3 months.
Luckily, I'm blooming right along with Freiburg.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
maps of the mindset/mindsets of the map
Relaxing is so much more enjoyable when you feel that you deserve it.
I'm bored, which is something I hate being. I doubt anyone really enjoys being bored, but I hate even admitting that I am. Being bored means you're not being creative with your time, or you're just being lazy. OR you're a child and just want to disagree with all of the suggestions your parents give you. Ah. Those were the days.
Of course, these days the suggestions coming from my parents are great. Mom tried to convince me to join my friends for a cruise on the Medierranean, but that's when Lizzy's here. And Dad was going on about southern France. I am trying to figure out my travel plans but it's getting very confusing. I have no idea where Lizzy and I will end up next week, so we'll discuss it when she's here. She says she absolutely doesn't care, but I don't believe her. At this point I'm thinking a night or two in Munich, but who knows. Then after that, tentatively Budapest, Brasov, Bucharest, and Istanbul, but this all needs to be discussed once Natalie gets back from wherever she is in Europe. And then, a weekend in Spain to do nothing but sit on the beach and read about 4 books. And then...Norway? Morocco? Here is my list of places I would still really, really like to see while here. Have fun with it.
1) Berlin 2) Amsterdam 3) southern France 4) Stavanger 5) Barcelona 6) Florence
This are kind of in order...well, not really. We'll see where I end up. No matter what, I am still seeing a lot more of the world than I probably deserve to.
That's the future. It would sound a lot more cheery if I weren't in such a crap mood. The highlight of today was the super cute guy Stephanie and I saw at the T-Mobile store. That or the whole grapefruit I ate. I'm telling you, things are really exciting around here.
I met up with Steph for lunch to hear all about her travels. First, she went to Russia with Erica which I guess ended up being a grand adventure. No one spoke English and they all hated tourists, so she said it taught her a lot about being a good traveler. They also couldn't pronounce anything and it took them 2 hours to find their hostel in St. Petersburg. After that I guess they literally had to write things on their hands and hold it up so that they could get tickets on the right trains and such. And she learned to avoid the police, since they harass tourists and charge them for anything they feel like.
Oddly enough, I was wildly jealous. What an adventure! I can't wait to get into Eastern Europe and be completely out of my element and be dressed like a completely hobo. That's what being young is for. Questionably hygiene and doing things in a foreign country that your parents probably wouldn't approve of. Feel free to quote me on that.
But, alas, Russia is not in the works. At least not this year. I would love to go there someday, but not now. It also takes such a long time to get Visas and such. For like a week in February all my friends were talking about was paperwork to get into Russia. I almost felt left out because I didn't have any formidable looking Cryillic documents. Maryia was getting ready to go storm down the Belarussian embassy in Berlin because they almost didn't let her go home to see her mom. It was all very dramatic around here for awhile.
As for my OWN travels...
I have no idea when the last time I wrote was. Probably about 4 months ago, as my father told me. But, anyway, I'll do my best to recap.
FATHER - The weirdest part of having my dad around was paying attention to his mannerisms, because I figure that's kind of like seeing what I'll be like when I'm in my 40s. And that whole bit about your parents becoming your friends the older you get is starting to make sense. Terrifying. Another weird thing I'm realizing is that I do look up to my parents about a lot of things and I very much value their advice, but I am simply going to disagree with them on others. And when I was little that always seemed to be a bad thing, I guess. But now I am older and establishing my place in the world, so it's ok to disagree and have my own opinions. They have mature justifications now and aren't just products of teenage spite. I'm not fighting with anyone about it. Actually, I'm learning the art of biting my tongue. I think that's the magical thing, no? Me? Biting my tongue?
For my curious parents reading this, I am not referring to one specific thing. In fact, I can't even think of an example. So stop wondering. I am growing into my own person. It's nice.
So, yes, it was wonderful seeing my dad, but iit was also very surprising. I honestly thought I would get upset with him and that there was no way we'd peacefully coexist for a week. But I didn't give the ol' guy enough credit, I suppose. Or myself. And my dad got a ton of father-daughter time, which I know is something he's wanted for years.
I choose to thank the Atlantic Ocean.
EX-BOYFRIEND - John and I are an old married couple in a lot of ways. I guess a lot of that is because he's the only guy I've dated who started out as a really good friend. We also were especially close my freshman year at U of M, which was...tremulous.
Wow. What a good word for 2005.
John also surprised me a lot, which was nice. We only bickered with each other once, and that was when we were in Rome, decided to take a walk after dinner, and I figured a map wasn't necessary. Needless to say, 4 hours later we returned to our hotel after exploring in depth corners of Rome that I really didn't care to see. But I did get to see all of Rome that day and the weather could not have possibly been better. I also got to see all of it with a boy who watched out for me, which meant giving the death stare to any man in the Metro who was getting a bit too close. And John really does give a great death stare. Even I was afraid.
Italy is great, but every time I venture out of my Germany bubble, I feel it. I have some very American ways which will probably stay with me forever, but I've noticed little changes in my mindset. For instance, my cleanliness, taste in desserts, and even how often I smile at strangers has all changed. Oh and my raging addiction to coffee. But Italy is obviously violently different. I whined a few times about the streets being dirty, men staring blatantly at me, and how loud people were being. John just told me to be quiet.
I'm horrified to think of what's going to bother me when I come home. Ok. Avoiding that thought.
Seeing John was wonderful and I tried to kidnap him so he couldn't go. Shucks.
My only regret is that they closed the SISTINE CHAPEL. That was #1 of my list. I gave some Swiss Guards serious attitude until John yanked me away.
AUNT, UNCLE, & COUSINS (oh my!) - The Baldwins absolutely met expectations. It was glorious. We got lost several dozen times, got the cops called on us in Salzburg, had a bloody accident on a luge in the Schwarzwald, and did our best to find suitable food for Dylan. I had a marvelous time with my family and it was nice having some intense bonding time.
The only sad part was when Aunt Kathy would suddenly look a lot like my own Ma. And then made me miss her a lot. Don't get me wrong, it was great having a Mom-figure for a week, even though she wasn't my favorite person at 8:30 in the morning. Victoria was groaning too, so I didn't feel too bad. But in Salzburg she woke me up with coffee, so she made up for it...kinda.
We got to see all kinds of great tourist sites in Bavaria, Austria, and the Schwarzwald. And we did so in an Audi A4 hatchback, where I was smushed in the backseat with Victoria and Dylan. It reminded me so much of when Jimmy was young, since Dylan is 8 and that was a mere 5 years ago. We had to get on Dylan to blow his nose, not get his feet all over the seats, stop repeating phrases just to drive his sisters crazy, etc.
I really did get awesome little brother training. And in return, Jimmy is going to be such a pro when one of his girlfriends starts crying over nothing and melts down into a blubbery mess. You're welcome, Bub.
So, as you can see, my personal connections and I have been all over the map...literally.
Now, I am not traveling, and haven't been doing much in the past week. I accidentally volunteered to clean out the oven. I also went to go see 'The Departed' in German, and I had NO idea what was going on. I understood about 90%, so I think even in English I would have been lost. But, Leonardo Dicaprio was very enjoyable to look at. Despite the thug boy look he had goin' on. I've also started running more, which is great. I love running. I just hope my shins continue to agree with the idea.
And now, I go make the dinner. Lizzy gets here on Saturday. I don't know how she's going to handle having Europe in the palm of her hand, but it'll give her a taste of my life.
I'm bored, which is something I hate being. I doubt anyone really enjoys being bored, but I hate even admitting that I am. Being bored means you're not being creative with your time, or you're just being lazy. OR you're a child and just want to disagree with all of the suggestions your parents give you. Ah. Those were the days.
Of course, these days the suggestions coming from my parents are great. Mom tried to convince me to join my friends for a cruise on the Medierranean, but that's when Lizzy's here. And Dad was going on about southern France. I am trying to figure out my travel plans but it's getting very confusing. I have no idea where Lizzy and I will end up next week, so we'll discuss it when she's here. She says she absolutely doesn't care, but I don't believe her. At this point I'm thinking a night or two in Munich, but who knows. Then after that, tentatively Budapest, Brasov, Bucharest, and Istanbul, but this all needs to be discussed once Natalie gets back from wherever she is in Europe. And then, a weekend in Spain to do nothing but sit on the beach and read about 4 books. And then...Norway? Morocco? Here is my list of places I would still really, really like to see while here. Have fun with it.
1) Berlin 2) Amsterdam 3) southern France 4) Stavanger 5) Barcelona 6) Florence
This are kind of in order...well, not really. We'll see where I end up. No matter what, I am still seeing a lot more of the world than I probably deserve to.
That's the future. It would sound a lot more cheery if I weren't in such a crap mood. The highlight of today was the super cute guy Stephanie and I saw at the T-Mobile store. That or the whole grapefruit I ate. I'm telling you, things are really exciting around here.
I met up with Steph for lunch to hear all about her travels. First, she went to Russia with Erica which I guess ended up being a grand adventure. No one spoke English and they all hated tourists, so she said it taught her a lot about being a good traveler. They also couldn't pronounce anything and it took them 2 hours to find their hostel in St. Petersburg. After that I guess they literally had to write things on their hands and hold it up so that they could get tickets on the right trains and such. And she learned to avoid the police, since they harass tourists and charge them for anything they feel like.
Oddly enough, I was wildly jealous. What an adventure! I can't wait to get into Eastern Europe and be completely out of my element and be dressed like a completely hobo. That's what being young is for. Questionably hygiene and doing things in a foreign country that your parents probably wouldn't approve of. Feel free to quote me on that.
But, alas, Russia is not in the works. At least not this year. I would love to go there someday, but not now. It also takes such a long time to get Visas and such. For like a week in February all my friends were talking about was paperwork to get into Russia. I almost felt left out because I didn't have any formidable looking Cryillic documents. Maryia was getting ready to go storm down the Belarussian embassy in Berlin because they almost didn't let her go home to see her mom. It was all very dramatic around here for awhile.
As for my OWN travels...
I have no idea when the last time I wrote was. Probably about 4 months ago, as my father told me. But, anyway, I'll do my best to recap.
FATHER - The weirdest part of having my dad around was paying attention to his mannerisms, because I figure that's kind of like seeing what I'll be like when I'm in my 40s. And that whole bit about your parents becoming your friends the older you get is starting to make sense. Terrifying. Another weird thing I'm realizing is that I do look up to my parents about a lot of things and I very much value their advice, but I am simply going to disagree with them on others. And when I was little that always seemed to be a bad thing, I guess. But now I am older and establishing my place in the world, so it's ok to disagree and have my own opinions. They have mature justifications now and aren't just products of teenage spite. I'm not fighting with anyone about it. Actually, I'm learning the art of biting my tongue. I think that's the magical thing, no? Me? Biting my tongue?
For my curious parents reading this, I am not referring to one specific thing. In fact, I can't even think of an example. So stop wondering. I am growing into my own person. It's nice.
So, yes, it was wonderful seeing my dad, but iit was also very surprising. I honestly thought I would get upset with him and that there was no way we'd peacefully coexist for a week. But I didn't give the ol' guy enough credit, I suppose. Or myself. And my dad got a ton of father-daughter time, which I know is something he's wanted for years.
I choose to thank the Atlantic Ocean.
EX-BOYFRIEND - John and I are an old married couple in a lot of ways. I guess a lot of that is because he's the only guy I've dated who started out as a really good friend. We also were especially close my freshman year at U of M, which was...tremulous.
Wow. What a good word for 2005.
John also surprised me a lot, which was nice. We only bickered with each other once, and that was when we were in Rome, decided to take a walk after dinner, and I figured a map wasn't necessary. Needless to say, 4 hours later we returned to our hotel after exploring in depth corners of Rome that I really didn't care to see. But I did get to see all of Rome that day and the weather could not have possibly been better. I also got to see all of it with a boy who watched out for me, which meant giving the death stare to any man in the Metro who was getting a bit too close. And John really does give a great death stare. Even I was afraid.
Italy is great, but every time I venture out of my Germany bubble, I feel it. I have some very American ways which will probably stay with me forever, but I've noticed little changes in my mindset. For instance, my cleanliness, taste in desserts, and even how often I smile at strangers has all changed. Oh and my raging addiction to coffee. But Italy is obviously violently different. I whined a few times about the streets being dirty, men staring blatantly at me, and how loud people were being. John just told me to be quiet.
I'm horrified to think of what's going to bother me when I come home. Ok. Avoiding that thought.
Seeing John was wonderful and I tried to kidnap him so he couldn't go. Shucks.
My only regret is that they closed the SISTINE CHAPEL. That was #1 of my list. I gave some Swiss Guards serious attitude until John yanked me away.
AUNT, UNCLE, & COUSINS (oh my!) - The Baldwins absolutely met expectations. It was glorious. We got lost several dozen times, got the cops called on us in Salzburg, had a bloody accident on a luge in the Schwarzwald, and did our best to find suitable food for Dylan. I had a marvelous time with my family and it was nice having some intense bonding time.
The only sad part was when Aunt Kathy would suddenly look a lot like my own Ma. And then made me miss her a lot. Don't get me wrong, it was great having a Mom-figure for a week, even though she wasn't my favorite person at 8:30 in the morning. Victoria was groaning too, so I didn't feel too bad. But in Salzburg she woke me up with coffee, so she made up for it...kinda.
We got to see all kinds of great tourist sites in Bavaria, Austria, and the Schwarzwald. And we did so in an Audi A4 hatchback, where I was smushed in the backseat with Victoria and Dylan. It reminded me so much of when Jimmy was young, since Dylan is 8 and that was a mere 5 years ago. We had to get on Dylan to blow his nose, not get his feet all over the seats, stop repeating phrases just to drive his sisters crazy, etc.
I really did get awesome little brother training. And in return, Jimmy is going to be such a pro when one of his girlfriends starts crying over nothing and melts down into a blubbery mess. You're welcome, Bub.
So, as you can see, my personal connections and I have been all over the map...literally.
Now, I am not traveling, and haven't been doing much in the past week. I accidentally volunteered to clean out the oven. I also went to go see 'The Departed' in German, and I had NO idea what was going on. I understood about 90%, so I think even in English I would have been lost. But, Leonardo Dicaprio was very enjoyable to look at. Despite the thug boy look he had goin' on. I've also started running more, which is great. I love running. I just hope my shins continue to agree with the idea.
And now, I go make the dinner. Lizzy gets here on Saturday. I don't know how she's going to handle having Europe in the palm of her hand, but it'll give her a taste of my life.
Friday, March 02, 2007
six months
I have yet to start my paper, which probably should be stressing me out, but right now it's not. I suppose that's because it's the only real worry on my mind right now, which I figure is pretty remarkable.
I have so much to update, but right now I'm too exhausted to. Normally I don't write unless I'm ready to commit to a lengthy entry bursting with detail and nonsense, but this will just be me venting, I guess. I've got a few thoughts roaming around my head and I figured I'd share them, because they are such beautiful thoughts.
First I spent a week non-stop with my father, which was actually wonderful. Then I spent a week straight with John, which was also wonderful. Not only did I get to see some amazing places, but I got to spend time with two of my favorite people in the world. Now I am lonesome and very aware of the fact that no one will be crashing on my little air mattress tonight. There will be no one to wake up and greet tomorrow. I thought I would be rejoicing to have all of my personal space back, but I think a part of me also knew that I'd miss sharing it. One of my favorite things to think about is generous people who have very little. Like the tales of poor people who share their last scraps of clothes with beggars on the street? I'm a total sucker for all of that. I also love the feeling that I'm taking care of people, which means my maternal instincts are finally surfacing after remaining dormant for far too long.
(But don't overestimate me. I still get nervous when I think about babies. They're just one step up from a football on my scale of "Interesting Things", because they can move and they are mildly interesting to look at, but that's about it because they smell and are loud. Any baby related to me earns extra points, but I just don't feel like I can connect with them until they hit the toddler years. Being able to walk and talk earns a someone a lot of respect from me. And you'd be surprised at how many people my age can't really master the latter.)
Anyway, it's not like I was sharing scraps with my dad and John, but it was nice to have them here in my world. And I happen to think it's a spectacular world, in which I have now lived for 6 months.
Tonight I finally met my new roommate, Tanya. She comes from Milwaukee and is a Business major at UWisconsin. She's in a 9 person program of Wisconsin kids over here for one semester. All but one of her classes are in English, but she seems to have pretty good German. We chatted for a bit in the kitchen and she invited me to go get dinner with some of the kids in her program, so I accepted. Write my paper vs. meet new people. After all, I am a Krug.
After dinner, I went with a few people to Innisfree to grab a drink and continue chatting. They had two middle aged guys playing live music and we had a good time identifying the songs, sharing roommate horror stories, making fun of Britney Spears, and discussing travel plans. Tanya is very cool and I think she and I are definitely going to get along well. Tom moved out last week which just makes me horribly sad every time I think about him not being just down the hall from me. But now Tanya's here, so hallelujah. She also had to ask me how to mop and how the kitchen duties work. Perhaps this will prove to my roommates that I am not the only clueless one. All Americans are born allergic to menial tasks.
I left Innisfree at 11, after only having one drink. I have no doubt that I'll see those people again, because we Americans have to stick together here in the Vaterland. I walked home in the rain and immediately after getting home, called David, the Perfect Man.
My ex-boyfriend, Dave, kind of gets randomly dragged in and out of my life. Ok. I phrased that poorly. But I do call him maybe 4 or 5 times a year, and it's always when he least expects it. He doesn't mind it, and always sounds genuinely happy that I've called. It's entirely impulsive and I have no idea why I do it, but usually it's when I'm most content with my life. The last time I saw him was a few weeks before leaving for Germany, when I went out to get sushi with him and stole his wallet at the end of the meal. We argued for a good 10 minutes about me paying while I literally sat on his wallet until he finally caved, but he did make a few growling noises. Whatever. He's paid for so much crap for me. I felt wonderful about returning the favor. I appreciate being spoiled but sometimes I like spoiling. Especially when I am a waitress and am walking around with way too much cash.
We talked for maybe a half hour. He's living in an apartment in downtown Chicago for a while, which is all paid for by his company. He's got a bunch of friends coming down for St. Patricks day and he's got a new job working for the company that he really likes. I asked him if he was happy 3 times in a row, because usually people who aren't really happy break down after number 2 or 3. I don't know. It's just something about hearing that phrase and hearing yourself lying about it if you're not really happy? Maybe I am just making up mental tricks that don't really work but they sound good in theory. Are you happy? Are you happy?
I told him all about my family, running around Europe, volunteering after graduation, blah blah. He confessed that he was planning on stopping by my dad's house the next time he was in Michigan so he could get my address in Germany to send me something. The only contact he has with me is my cell phone, and that's in some drawer somewhere in Michigan, so I guess he really wanted to get in touch with me. Wow.
I told him I'd call him again after I finish my paper. That will be my reward. That and the glistening new scrapbook I bought yesterday, which will hopefully be completed for your viewing pleasure by late summer. Then maybe I'll let him send me something. I'm curious to see what it will be. Knowing him I will have to yell a lot about not being too generous.
He turned it on me, of course, and asked me if I'm happy.
"I have nothing to complain about. Yes. I am."
Which actually, scarily, is the truth. And actually a very backwards way to put things. Maybe there is something about growing up that lets you settle nicely into your life. Every day I feel more and more like I fit comfortably into my own skin, even though I am well aware that I have no idea where life will lead me. Going to Germany isn't helping me earn the degree that "respectable" society is going to fawn over, but it is providing me with the life skills that will ultimately make the difference. So, for the time being, I am not going to worry or stress, or waste energy on the things that don't matter. I'll make my aunts proud, who are living vicariously through me.
I promise glittering updates about Germany, Italy, and the men in my life will follow. I just have to survive until Wednesday and then I will be able to properly float.
Are you happy?
I have so much to update, but right now I'm too exhausted to. Normally I don't write unless I'm ready to commit to a lengthy entry bursting with detail and nonsense, but this will just be me venting, I guess. I've got a few thoughts roaming around my head and I figured I'd share them, because they are such beautiful thoughts.
First I spent a week non-stop with my father, which was actually wonderful. Then I spent a week straight with John, which was also wonderful. Not only did I get to see some amazing places, but I got to spend time with two of my favorite people in the world. Now I am lonesome and very aware of the fact that no one will be crashing on my little air mattress tonight. There will be no one to wake up and greet tomorrow. I thought I would be rejoicing to have all of my personal space back, but I think a part of me also knew that I'd miss sharing it. One of my favorite things to think about is generous people who have very little. Like the tales of poor people who share their last scraps of clothes with beggars on the street? I'm a total sucker for all of that. I also love the feeling that I'm taking care of people, which means my maternal instincts are finally surfacing after remaining dormant for far too long.
(But don't overestimate me. I still get nervous when I think about babies. They're just one step up from a football on my scale of "Interesting Things", because they can move and they are mildly interesting to look at, but that's about it because they smell and are loud. Any baby related to me earns extra points, but I just don't feel like I can connect with them until they hit the toddler years. Being able to walk and talk earns a someone a lot of respect from me. And you'd be surprised at how many people my age can't really master the latter.)
Anyway, it's not like I was sharing scraps with my dad and John, but it was nice to have them here in my world. And I happen to think it's a spectacular world, in which I have now lived for 6 months.
Tonight I finally met my new roommate, Tanya. She comes from Milwaukee and is a Business major at UWisconsin. She's in a 9 person program of Wisconsin kids over here for one semester. All but one of her classes are in English, but she seems to have pretty good German. We chatted for a bit in the kitchen and she invited me to go get dinner with some of the kids in her program, so I accepted. Write my paper vs. meet new people. After all, I am a Krug.
After dinner, I went with a few people to Innisfree to grab a drink and continue chatting. They had two middle aged guys playing live music and we had a good time identifying the songs, sharing roommate horror stories, making fun of Britney Spears, and discussing travel plans. Tanya is very cool and I think she and I are definitely going to get along well. Tom moved out last week which just makes me horribly sad every time I think about him not being just down the hall from me. But now Tanya's here, so hallelujah. She also had to ask me how to mop and how the kitchen duties work. Perhaps this will prove to my roommates that I am not the only clueless one. All Americans are born allergic to menial tasks.
I left Innisfree at 11, after only having one drink. I have no doubt that I'll see those people again, because we Americans have to stick together here in the Vaterland. I walked home in the rain and immediately after getting home, called David, the Perfect Man.
My ex-boyfriend, Dave, kind of gets randomly dragged in and out of my life. Ok. I phrased that poorly. But I do call him maybe 4 or 5 times a year, and it's always when he least expects it. He doesn't mind it, and always sounds genuinely happy that I've called. It's entirely impulsive and I have no idea why I do it, but usually it's when I'm most content with my life. The last time I saw him was a few weeks before leaving for Germany, when I went out to get sushi with him and stole his wallet at the end of the meal. We argued for a good 10 minutes about me paying while I literally sat on his wallet until he finally caved, but he did make a few growling noises. Whatever. He's paid for so much crap for me. I felt wonderful about returning the favor. I appreciate being spoiled but sometimes I like spoiling. Especially when I am a waitress and am walking around with way too much cash.
We talked for maybe a half hour. He's living in an apartment in downtown Chicago for a while, which is all paid for by his company. He's got a bunch of friends coming down for St. Patricks day and he's got a new job working for the company that he really likes. I asked him if he was happy 3 times in a row, because usually people who aren't really happy break down after number 2 or 3. I don't know. It's just something about hearing that phrase and hearing yourself lying about it if you're not really happy? Maybe I am just making up mental tricks that don't really work but they sound good in theory. Are you happy? Are you happy?
I told him all about my family, running around Europe, volunteering after graduation, blah blah. He confessed that he was planning on stopping by my dad's house the next time he was in Michigan so he could get my address in Germany to send me something. The only contact he has with me is my cell phone, and that's in some drawer somewhere in Michigan, so I guess he really wanted to get in touch with me. Wow.
I told him I'd call him again after I finish my paper. That will be my reward. That and the glistening new scrapbook I bought yesterday, which will hopefully be completed for your viewing pleasure by late summer. Then maybe I'll let him send me something. I'm curious to see what it will be. Knowing him I will have to yell a lot about not being too generous.
He turned it on me, of course, and asked me if I'm happy.
"I have nothing to complain about. Yes. I am."
Which actually, scarily, is the truth. And actually a very backwards way to put things. Maybe there is something about growing up that lets you settle nicely into your life. Every day I feel more and more like I fit comfortably into my own skin, even though I am well aware that I have no idea where life will lead me. Going to Germany isn't helping me earn the degree that "respectable" society is going to fawn over, but it is providing me with the life skills that will ultimately make the difference. So, for the time being, I am not going to worry or stress, or waste energy on the things that don't matter. I'll make my aunts proud, who are living vicariously through me.
I promise glittering updates about Germany, Italy, and the men in my life will follow. I just have to survive until Wednesday and then I will be able to properly float.
Are you happy?
Monday, February 12, 2007
tuition and fruition
I miss Mexican food. I guess I just didn't realize how much until my father told me that today.
My list of things I want him to bring me: guacamole, taco spice, Robitussin, Zip-Loc bags, and cheesy Chex Mix. Also Tostitos, even if they are merely crumbs after the flight.
Funny to think that Turkish food is all over the place here, and at home it's all Mexican. And everyone everywhere is in an uproar about immigration. So, of course I will immediately crave Turkish food once I'm back home. You should be craving it right now, as you read this. As I continue on this rant, I will mention that I miss all the crazy Spanish speaking cooks at Cottage Inn. They used to throw things at me, teach me dirty words, put up Maxim posters, etc. I also won $5 off of Rene from the Argentina vs. Germany World Cup game. That was better than any tip I received that day.
ONWARD
So, Germany universities have finally decided to catch up with the times and have started imposing something called Studiengebuehren, which are student fees to go to university. Up until now, Germans have been able to go to University completely free of charge, which sounds great if you're moi, but now that I've come here, I realize the advantages to going to the most expensive public school in my great nation. Sure, looking at my tuition bills makes me want to start living off of grass and water, but that money goes somewhere. Most of it goes to the football team, but at least $50 goes toward something good! Maybe?
For example, I miss having a beautiful big student gym, a health clinic, a library that is open from 8 AM to 5 AM every day, newly renovated campus buildings, etc. And hey, other majors get all kinds of huge cool toys to play with. I picked a major that involves a lot of paper, public humiliation and a few expensive plane tickets, so I obviously wasn't thinking clearly. But still! My University is super expensivo, but it's one of the best in the world for a reason. So, now I feel a little better about being in poverty when I get to pay off my loans.
Anyway, students are LIVID about these Studiengebuehren, which I would totally understand, but they're 500 Euro. THAT'S HOW MUCH I PAID FOR RENT IN A SINGLE MONTH LAST YEAR. And they're all over campus with flyers and BOYKOTT written all over everything in black and yellow. They're trying to talk to me and I just give them dirty looks. You can afford those cigarettes, eh, but you can't afford your own education?
I realize they're poor students. I am definitely on that team and shamelessly ask for any discount I can. And I want to reach out to them and say "Guys! I'm on your team! But c'mon! It could only get better!" The Uni here isn't in shambles, but it could do with some re-touching. The library isn't even open on Sunday, which I find absolutely intolerable. Sunday is my Holy Day of Homework.
I don't mean to make anyone angry, especially if you're an irate German student who somehow stumbled upon my blog. But that's just my opinion on the matter.
Today I also accidentally ordered 'Sewing for Dummies' off of amazon.de. The best part is that I checked the address of where it's being sent? Mary Markley Residence Hall, Ann Arbor. So, not only did I accidentally buy a book for 30 Euro, it's now being sent to some random freshman in my old dorm. And I highly doubt they're interesting in sewing. I mean, they should be, but not everyone can be as cool as me.
I have now sent about 3 e-mails to German Amazons (haha I'm so funny) begging to cancel the order. I also freaked out about it to Tom, who wasn't even really phased. We're gonna try to call tomorrow. If that doesn't work, then I'll enlist Laura to drive out to Ann Arbor and wrestle my book away from someone.
And yes, I do WANT the book "Sewing for Dummies". I think I'd put it to good use. After 5 blankets, I'm sick of crocheting and I need to try something new. Like making my own clothes. Everything I own is boring anyway. I can sew boring stuff. The scariest part is figuring out a new machine. I've only just now mastered my camera...after a year.
Today wasn't terribly eventful. I woke up, had 3 cups of coffee for breakfast, went to the AYF office , got my new Time (YEAAAH) and found out I got a 1,4 for my IH class. That's roughly a 95%. Cool. But of course, none of this goes into my GPA. Bah.
Then I found out my Kunst Klausur grade, which wasn't nearly as impressive. But I think that will be severely curved. And, once again, none of this goes into my GPA. Phew.
As you can see, I have mixed feelings about this.
Oh Choir Concerts! I almost forgot.
They went pretty well. The one on Saturday night was the best, I think. The acoustics in the church we were in were amazing, which made it hard for everyone to hear each other. But we made more mistakes on Sunday, so they recorded the good concert.
It felt good to get up and sing, even though I am definitely not used to using a folder when I sing a choir concert. My heart and my wrist suffered. Yea, we got to sing more music, but I'd rather sing fewer songs really well. But hey, I'm in a different world. Quantity over quality round here, I guess.
However, flowy black pants are definitely a worldwife requirement for female choir directors. I remember being with my mom when she bought hers.
Christoph came on Saturday night and ended up being my only fan, which was so sweet of him. It made me feel very loved. I know Tom would have come, but he says classical music makes him sleepy, which I can understand.
I'm used to having a Fan Club that takes up half the audience, so this time around was a little different which was definitely ok. And Mom, I tried desperately to get a picture with my director afterward, but I couldn't find her. I figured that was a thing you would have done. I've learned this after roughly 293453 choir concerts with you and your camera.
Anyway, choir is over for the semester. And I definitely plan on singing with them next semester because the program says Purcell. I am very excited about this. You know you are a choir geek when Purcell gets you antsy to sight-read.
Dad gets here in 6 days. I am doing my best to get these papers conquered before that, but it's not looking good. For example, I spent last Friday at the library 7-10. You would be hard pressed to find another time in my life where I've ever been at the library on a Friday, much less at night. Then I was back there again tonight until close.
If you thought your college experience was hard, did you ever try to do it in another language? HUH?
Of course, I can also be put in my place, because I met some Japanese girl studying Advanced Macroeconomics in German.
Ah well. My first semester officially ends on Wednesday, so that'll be nice.
Alright this entry officially sucks. I've been trying to write lately but none of it's passing the test. I'll let this one fly just so you all can see what a failed entry looks like. It has no flow and I'm writing like I'm 13 again. But that's life, I guess.
But then again, how much excitement can you really expect from a girl who wants to make her own clothes and loves old English madrigals?
My list of things I want him to bring me: guacamole, taco spice, Robitussin, Zip-Loc bags, and cheesy Chex Mix. Also Tostitos, even if they are merely crumbs after the flight.
Funny to think that Turkish food is all over the place here, and at home it's all Mexican. And everyone everywhere is in an uproar about immigration. So, of course I will immediately crave Turkish food once I'm back home. You should be craving it right now, as you read this. As I continue on this rant, I will mention that I miss all the crazy Spanish speaking cooks at Cottage Inn. They used to throw things at me, teach me dirty words, put up Maxim posters, etc. I also won $5 off of Rene from the Argentina vs. Germany World Cup game. That was better than any tip I received that day.
ONWARD
So, Germany universities have finally decided to catch up with the times and have started imposing something called Studiengebuehren, which are student fees to go to university. Up until now, Germans have been able to go to University completely free of charge, which sounds great if you're moi, but now that I've come here, I realize the advantages to going to the most expensive public school in my great nation. Sure, looking at my tuition bills makes me want to start living off of grass and water, but that money goes somewhere. Most of it goes to the football team, but at least $50 goes toward something good! Maybe?
For example, I miss having a beautiful big student gym, a health clinic, a library that is open from 8 AM to 5 AM every day, newly renovated campus buildings, etc. And hey, other majors get all kinds of huge cool toys to play with. I picked a major that involves a lot of paper, public humiliation and a few expensive plane tickets, so I obviously wasn't thinking clearly. But still! My University is super expensivo, but it's one of the best in the world for a reason. So, now I feel a little better about being in poverty when I get to pay off my loans.
Anyway, students are LIVID about these Studiengebuehren, which I would totally understand, but they're 500 Euro. THAT'S HOW MUCH I PAID FOR RENT IN A SINGLE MONTH LAST YEAR. And they're all over campus with flyers and BOYKOTT written all over everything in black and yellow. They're trying to talk to me and I just give them dirty looks. You can afford those cigarettes, eh, but you can't afford your own education?
I realize they're poor students. I am definitely on that team and shamelessly ask for any discount I can. And I want to reach out to them and say "Guys! I'm on your team! But c'mon! It could only get better!" The Uni here isn't in shambles, but it could do with some re-touching. The library isn't even open on Sunday, which I find absolutely intolerable. Sunday is my Holy Day of Homework.
I don't mean to make anyone angry, especially if you're an irate German student who somehow stumbled upon my blog. But that's just my opinion on the matter.
Today I also accidentally ordered 'Sewing for Dummies' off of amazon.de. The best part is that I checked the address of where it's being sent? Mary Markley Residence Hall, Ann Arbor. So, not only did I accidentally buy a book for 30 Euro, it's now being sent to some random freshman in my old dorm. And I highly doubt they're interesting in sewing. I mean, they should be, but not everyone can be as cool as me.
I have now sent about 3 e-mails to German Amazons (haha I'm so funny) begging to cancel the order. I also freaked out about it to Tom, who wasn't even really phased. We're gonna try to call tomorrow. If that doesn't work, then I'll enlist Laura to drive out to Ann Arbor and wrestle my book away from someone.
And yes, I do WANT the book "Sewing for Dummies". I think I'd put it to good use. After 5 blankets, I'm sick of crocheting and I need to try something new. Like making my own clothes. Everything I own is boring anyway. I can sew boring stuff. The scariest part is figuring out a new machine. I've only just now mastered my camera...after a year.
Today wasn't terribly eventful. I woke up, had 3 cups of coffee for breakfast, went to the AYF office , got my new Time (YEAAAH) and found out I got a 1,4 for my IH class. That's roughly a 95%. Cool. But of course, none of this goes into my GPA. Bah.
Then I found out my Kunst Klausur grade, which wasn't nearly as impressive. But I think that will be severely curved. And, once again, none of this goes into my GPA. Phew.
As you can see, I have mixed feelings about this.
Oh Choir Concerts! I almost forgot.
They went pretty well. The one on Saturday night was the best, I think. The acoustics in the church we were in were amazing, which made it hard for everyone to hear each other. But we made more mistakes on Sunday, so they recorded the good concert.
It felt good to get up and sing, even though I am definitely not used to using a folder when I sing a choir concert. My heart and my wrist suffered. Yea, we got to sing more music, but I'd rather sing fewer songs really well. But hey, I'm in a different world. Quantity over quality round here, I guess.
However, flowy black pants are definitely a worldwife requirement for female choir directors. I remember being with my mom when she bought hers.
Christoph came on Saturday night and ended up being my only fan, which was so sweet of him. It made me feel very loved. I know Tom would have come, but he says classical music makes him sleepy, which I can understand.
I'm used to having a Fan Club that takes up half the audience, so this time around was a little different which was definitely ok. And Mom, I tried desperately to get a picture with my director afterward, but I couldn't find her. I figured that was a thing you would have done. I've learned this after roughly 293453 choir concerts with you and your camera.
Anyway, choir is over for the semester. And I definitely plan on singing with them next semester because the program says Purcell. I am very excited about this. You know you are a choir geek when Purcell gets you antsy to sight-read.
Dad gets here in 6 days. I am doing my best to get these papers conquered before that, but it's not looking good. For example, I spent last Friday at the library 7-10. You would be hard pressed to find another time in my life where I've ever been at the library on a Friday, much less at night. Then I was back there again tonight until close.
If you thought your college experience was hard, did you ever try to do it in another language? HUH?
Of course, I can also be put in my place, because I met some Japanese girl studying Advanced Macroeconomics in German.
Ah well. My first semester officially ends on Wednesday, so that'll be nice.
Alright this entry officially sucks. I've been trying to write lately but none of it's passing the test. I'll let this one fly just so you all can see what a failed entry looks like. It has no flow and I'm writing like I'm 13 again. But that's life, I guess.
But then again, how much excitement can you really expect from a girl who wants to make her own clothes and loves old English madrigals?
Saturday, February 03, 2007
stressed interestingness
Alright. The task ahead of me is daunting.
Back in the day I used to have a Livejournal, which was my blog through high school and basically my journal through those years as well, because I have a total of about 5 written entries for my entire junior year. For awhile I got upset with myself about this, because obviously writing for an Internet audience isn't the best way to voice your innermost thoughts. But then I realized that by keeping my journal that way, I was really expressing myself in the best way possible because it fit that period of my life. I was 16 and no one understood me and my parents were obviously out to ruin my life, so venting it all out in a blog was much better than, I don't know, spray painting things and doing drugs. And, all of my best friends at Livejournal, and then we'd all talk about each others entries at the lunch table the next day. This, my friends, is how my generation communicates.
I actually copied my entire LJ into a Word document once. I put it in 10 pt. font with half inch margins and it was still somewhere around 600-700 pages. I originally wanted to print it all out, bind it, and then erase it from the Internet entirely. Of course, a week after I got done copying and pasting my life away, Best Buy viciously murdered my harddrive.
All last summer Sarah and I used to sit in the living room before we'd go to work. She'd watch the Food Network, and I'd sit there copying. pasting, and re-reading all my old LJ entries. We also did all of this in our underwear while eating Meijer brand mac & cheese, because we had no AC and were dirt poor. Ah, good times.
Anyway, the point I was getting at, was that I did get a lot of compliments about my LiveJournal from people whom I really didn't know that well. For example, Laura's camp friends. And when people said nice things to me, they'd usually say something to the effect of "Your life is just SO interesting". I honestly heard that way more than I ever thought I would, which was cool, but just confused me. I was just your average choir geek growing up in the 'burbs of Detroit. Sure, I did some outrageous things in high school. But so does everyone, right? I will now attempt to divide up the "interestingness" of my life, as I see it...
50% of it is how I write about it (If you know how to write, you can make going to the grocery store sound amazing)
20% my being dramatic (the intensity goes up a few notches)
20% my parents instilling the idea of EXPERIENCES > MATERIAL THINGS into me (This is why I am now running around Europe in $12 TJMaxx jeans)
10% my being impulsive (However, I am pleased with the vast majority of my impulsive decisions. Like hacking off all my hair and going to Oktoberfest. Quality decisions, I say.)
So whenever anyone said that to me, I'd say "No. Not true. Your life is interesting too, you just need to write it down."
I actually mean these things, too.
Anyway, all of that was to make the point that right now, I feel that I am limited when it comes to interesting things to write about. So, I am forced to make mundane activities sound exciting. However, they are mundane activities in Germany, and I continue to be dramatic and impulsive. I have a few things going for me.
Lately I've just been stressing, sleeping, or being productive. The stress actually encompasses all things. So, I've been stress-sleeping and going to the library stressed. Stressed teeth brushing. Stressed coffee making. It's rough.
Germany is a procrastinators worst nightmare, considering all the work comes at the end. But, I feel that the stress level is equivalent to that of finals at U of M. Yes, all of this is auf Deutch, but I have a dumb foreigner bonus here. I am entirely ok with this. The overachiever in me has vanished and I want to make it abundanly clear to all my professors that I only partially have an idea of what's going on. I don't want to turn in crap, but I'm not aiming too high. I figure the accomplishmen in itself will be enough. And these grades don't go into my GPA. If you all hadn't notice, this is me trying to talk myself into being less stressed.
I've already started doing research and I went to a workshop on how to do Hausarbeits
Hausarbeit - gigantic big formal paper
The format is a big huge deal over here. You're a lot more likely to be graded down if you cite something wrong than if you mess up one of your ideas. Also, you must never, ever be subjective. And no one cares about your own opinion. I really don't mind this, considering I'm not terribly passionate about anything I'm writing about. But it's so very German, of course. In America my entire childhood was filled with writing about my personal thoughts. Now, I like this and I'm not saying this is a bad thing, but I was hardly taught any decent grammar because of this. The only grammar I ever got was when I tutored it myself, completely independent of public schooling.
Exhibit A:
"How are you today?"
"Oh I'm good"
NO YOU ARE NOT GOOD. YOU ARE WELL. Saying your good means you're a good person, which you are not because you obviously don't have respect for the English language.
Alright I can't get too upset. I'm not perfect. I still have no idea when one is supposed to use a hyphen or parentheses. So I just throw them around poorly. I apologize for this, especially-to-my-step-mom.
So, that's my message to America. Teach more grammar. And make my little brother learn the difference between 'your' and 'you're'.
Other than learning to be more Socialist, I've been buying tickets to places and looking forward to my break. Natalie and I found 29 Euro tickets from Munich-Budapest, which is amazing. Also after talking to John about what he wants to do when he's here, we decided on a quick jump over to Rome for two nights because I found 60 Euro tickets. I told him we're not allowed to ever sleep and that I'll translate for him when we go hang out with the Pope.
Speaking of John, I miss him and think about him a lot, which of course makes me think about a whole bunch of things. And then I listen to Ella Fitzgerald, which doesn't help anything. I think basically right now I'm doing my best to just live in the moment and enjoy my time here without fixating too much on people at home. But sometimes, that's a lot easier said than done. Especially when you're me.
My other activities: trying to like tomatoes, getting colds, and cleaning my room daily. It's really exciting. I know. I figure a month of hell is alright, considering I haven't been doing anything productive for the past 5 months straight. And I get rewarded with 7 weeks of travel and people visiting me.
Shucks.
Alex and Adam are in Egypt right now, which just makes me a lot more aware of where I am in the world. It's not THAT outrageous to take off for Egypt for the weekend. Or Morocco. Or Istanbul.
The more time I'm here, the more I think that 11 months really isn't that long. A year ago the thought of 11 months terrified me. Deciding to come here scared me horribly but I knew it was just something I needed to do. I also kind of fell into it accidentally, because Julia mentioned it to me one day. Honestly. There wasn't in depth research or a lot of questions asked, which you think someone should do when it concerns a year of their life. I just went for it and then slowly fell more in love with the idea. And everyone yelled at me about leaving.
But now I'm here and I've hit the halfway mark and I'm kind of wondering what the hell happened. I feel like I got here yesterday. Everyone at home keeps going on about how August 3 is so far away but no, it's not. I disagree. It'll be on my doorstep all too soon and then I'll be a total mess when I have to leave Freiburg. I miss home, but right now, I am glad I am here.
I will also now refer to my wonderful grandmother. She and I were talking about my possibly doing Peace Corps and as she said, 2 years really isn't THAT long. And she's in her 80's. So her advice carries a lot of weight because she is definitely what I would call wise. And honestly, what scares me the most about PeaceCorps is how long it is. Well, and possibly not having running water or electricity.
Anyway, if any young children are out there heeding my invaluable advice, GO FOR THE LONG PROGRAM.
I feel that this entry has reached it's limit, so I will now bid you adieu, put on some Ella, and pick out the chunks of tomatoes in the marinara sauce I bought. I tell you, I'm really trying.
Back in the day I used to have a Livejournal, which was my blog through high school and basically my journal through those years as well, because I have a total of about 5 written entries for my entire junior year. For awhile I got upset with myself about this, because obviously writing for an Internet audience isn't the best way to voice your innermost thoughts. But then I realized that by keeping my journal that way, I was really expressing myself in the best way possible because it fit that period of my life. I was 16 and no one understood me and my parents were obviously out to ruin my life, so venting it all out in a blog was much better than, I don't know, spray painting things and doing drugs. And, all of my best friends at Livejournal, and then we'd all talk about each others entries at the lunch table the next day. This, my friends, is how my generation communicates.
I actually copied my entire LJ into a Word document once. I put it in 10 pt. font with half inch margins and it was still somewhere around 600-700 pages. I originally wanted to print it all out, bind it, and then erase it from the Internet entirely. Of course, a week after I got done copying and pasting my life away, Best Buy viciously murdered my harddrive.
All last summer Sarah and I used to sit in the living room before we'd go to work. She'd watch the Food Network, and I'd sit there copying. pasting, and re-reading all my old LJ entries. We also did all of this in our underwear while eating Meijer brand mac & cheese, because we had no AC and were dirt poor. Ah, good times.
Anyway, the point I was getting at, was that I did get a lot of compliments about my LiveJournal from people whom I really didn't know that well. For example, Laura's camp friends. And when people said nice things to me, they'd usually say something to the effect of "Your life is just SO interesting". I honestly heard that way more than I ever thought I would, which was cool, but just confused me. I was just your average choir geek growing up in the 'burbs of Detroit. Sure, I did some outrageous things in high school. But so does everyone, right? I will now attempt to divide up the "interestingness" of my life, as I see it...
50% of it is how I write about it (If you know how to write, you can make going to the grocery store sound amazing)
20% my being dramatic (the intensity goes up a few notches)
20% my parents instilling the idea of EXPERIENCES > MATERIAL THINGS into me (This is why I am now running around Europe in $12 TJMaxx jeans)
10% my being impulsive (However, I am pleased with the vast majority of my impulsive decisions. Like hacking off all my hair and going to Oktoberfest. Quality decisions, I say.)
So whenever anyone said that to me, I'd say "No. Not true. Your life is interesting too, you just need to write it down."
I actually mean these things, too.
Anyway, all of that was to make the point that right now, I feel that I am limited when it comes to interesting things to write about. So, I am forced to make mundane activities sound exciting. However, they are mundane activities in Germany, and I continue to be dramatic and impulsive. I have a few things going for me.
Lately I've just been stressing, sleeping, or being productive. The stress actually encompasses all things. So, I've been stress-sleeping and going to the library stressed. Stressed teeth brushing. Stressed coffee making. It's rough.
Germany is a procrastinators worst nightmare, considering all the work comes at the end. But, I feel that the stress level is equivalent to that of finals at U of M. Yes, all of this is auf Deutch, but I have a dumb foreigner bonus here. I am entirely ok with this. The overachiever in me has vanished and I want to make it abundanly clear to all my professors that I only partially have an idea of what's going on. I don't want to turn in crap, but I'm not aiming too high. I figure the accomplishmen in itself will be enough. And these grades don't go into my GPA. If you all hadn't notice, this is me trying to talk myself into being less stressed.
I've already started doing research and I went to a workshop on how to do Hausarbeits
Hausarbeit - gigantic big formal paper
The format is a big huge deal over here. You're a lot more likely to be graded down if you cite something wrong than if you mess up one of your ideas. Also, you must never, ever be subjective. And no one cares about your own opinion. I really don't mind this, considering I'm not terribly passionate about anything I'm writing about. But it's so very German, of course. In America my entire childhood was filled with writing about my personal thoughts. Now, I like this and I'm not saying this is a bad thing, but I was hardly taught any decent grammar because of this. The only grammar I ever got was when I tutored it myself, completely independent of public schooling.
Exhibit A:
"How are you today?"
"Oh I'm good"
NO YOU ARE NOT GOOD. YOU ARE WELL. Saying your good means you're a good person, which you are not because you obviously don't have respect for the English language.
Alright I can't get too upset. I'm not perfect. I still have no idea when one is supposed to use a hyphen or parentheses. So I just throw them around poorly. I apologize for this, especially-to-my-step-mom.
So, that's my message to America. Teach more grammar. And make my little brother learn the difference between 'your' and 'you're'.
Other than learning to be more Socialist, I've been buying tickets to places and looking forward to my break. Natalie and I found 29 Euro tickets from Munich-Budapest, which is amazing. Also after talking to John about what he wants to do when he's here, we decided on a quick jump over to Rome for two nights because I found 60 Euro tickets. I told him we're not allowed to ever sleep and that I'll translate for him when we go hang out with the Pope.
Speaking of John, I miss him and think about him a lot, which of course makes me think about a whole bunch of things. And then I listen to Ella Fitzgerald, which doesn't help anything. I think basically right now I'm doing my best to just live in the moment and enjoy my time here without fixating too much on people at home. But sometimes, that's a lot easier said than done. Especially when you're me.
My other activities: trying to like tomatoes, getting colds, and cleaning my room daily. It's really exciting. I know. I figure a month of hell is alright, considering I haven't been doing anything productive for the past 5 months straight. And I get rewarded with 7 weeks of travel and people visiting me.
Shucks.
Alex and Adam are in Egypt right now, which just makes me a lot more aware of where I am in the world. It's not THAT outrageous to take off for Egypt for the weekend. Or Morocco. Or Istanbul.
The more time I'm here, the more I think that 11 months really isn't that long. A year ago the thought of 11 months terrified me. Deciding to come here scared me horribly but I knew it was just something I needed to do. I also kind of fell into it accidentally, because Julia mentioned it to me one day. Honestly. There wasn't in depth research or a lot of questions asked, which you think someone should do when it concerns a year of their life. I just went for it and then slowly fell more in love with the idea. And everyone yelled at me about leaving.
But now I'm here and I've hit the halfway mark and I'm kind of wondering what the hell happened. I feel like I got here yesterday. Everyone at home keeps going on about how August 3 is so far away but no, it's not. I disagree. It'll be on my doorstep all too soon and then I'll be a total mess when I have to leave Freiburg. I miss home, but right now, I am glad I am here.
I will also now refer to my wonderful grandmother. She and I were talking about my possibly doing Peace Corps and as she said, 2 years really isn't THAT long. And she's in her 80's. So her advice carries a lot of weight because she is definitely what I would call wise. And honestly, what scares me the most about PeaceCorps is how long it is. Well, and possibly not having running water or electricity.
Anyway, if any young children are out there heeding my invaluable advice, GO FOR THE LONG PROGRAM.
I feel that this entry has reached it's limit, so I will now bid you adieu, put on some Ella, and pick out the chunks of tomatoes in the marinara sauce I bought. I tell you, I'm really trying.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
internal and external hurricanes
If anything, I'm learning modesty. And I don't like it.
Ok, I will start from the beginning.
Today, about 15 minutes after waking up, Maxi warned me not to go outside because an Orkan was coming.
der Orkan - hurricane
What the hell, Germany?
It's not really a hurricane, because it's not circular, but that's just the German word for huge storm. Orkan Kyrill started out by Ireland and has made its way over northern France towards us. People in the city were getting hit with shingles, the winds were so bad. All the IES kids (our rival study abroad program) were advised not to go into the hills under any circumstances.
So, I of course hopped into Tom's Lupo to go storm-chasing, because I secretly have a death wish.
We just drove up to Schauinsland, climbed to the summit, and stood in some crazy wind for a bit. Oh man. Nothing like that to make you feel alive...and slight insane.
The scariest part was probably watching gigantic trees swaying about and creaking in the wind over us as we drove down. Nothing huge was crashing down around us, but still...
After returning from our adventure every weather channel, radio station, web site, etc. was advising all people to stay indoors until tomorrow morning. Hm. Get pelted with shingles and go to choir, or stay home, make cookies, and attempt further bonding with roommates.
Crap. I chose wrong.
I bought what I assumed would be the right supplies at Edeka with Tom which included flour, white sugar, brown sugar, baking powder, etc. I found the recipe I know best online, converted everything into liters, and went to town.
They went horribly horribly wrong. I suppose I could have blamed German ingredients or the fact that I haven't converted fractions correctly since the 6th grade, but instead I immediately got down on myself. I needed a slight push over the top and I guess that did it for me.
My first batch I immediately threw away, which Maxi protested and dragged out. The second batch I gave up on entirely, put them in the oven, and more or less locked myself in my room.
I just didn't want anyone to see me cry, which marks a very large difference in my behavior in Germany and in the US.
Tom took care of them (which I knew he would anyway) and gave me a bit of a lecture about how life is hard for everyone.
Ok, I realize that my problems are petty and slight compared to those of the majority of the world, but the fact is I am still human. I am going to get down on myself from time to time. It's inevitable.
And when I do, I have become entirely used to having people to turn to. I have a large family and am unusually close to distant relatives. I'm incredibly close to my parents and would like to think I also am with my siblings, although sometimes I think they'd rather see me dead. I also have developed a tightly knit web of great friends, at home and in Ann Arbor, whom I can comfortably bare my soul to.
If I were in the US, I could comfortably cry to any of these people about ruined cookies and they'd immediately understand the deeper meaning, ask the right questions, and open their arms to me. I've gotten used to that over 21 years. Spoiled in a lot of wonderful ways.
But I don't have that here. I have people I can talk to, but no one who can immediately look past the obvious and into what's really bothering me. I have learned how to cry alone, in secret, and not nearly as often. I have been met with challenges that would have made me completely crumble a year ago. Yes. I'm maturing. I'm growing. All kinds of amazing and positive attributes are popping out all over my personality in frightening ways. Blah blah. But it doesn't mean I don't miss comfort, security, understanding, and compassion in all of the faces around me.
Alright that last bit didn't much follow along with my intro. Onto that now.
I know how to make cookies. Yes, I am an immediate disaster in the kitchen, but I've been making chocolate chip cookies since I was old enough to reach over a counter. It's perhaps the one thing I can actually do very well in a kitchen and even though it's one measly, simple thing, I take pride in the fact that I can make a mean cookie.
So, when I messed that up today, for the first time ever, it was just another point for Germany. And all the time, I feel that Germany's racking up points and I'm struggling to keep up.
Take, my roommates for example. Granted, they are all older than me, but they make me feel so insufficient, juvenile and stupid. Christoph's in Med School and wakes up at 7 AM all the time to get to class. Tom's doing his thesis on Biomedical Engineering and in his free time is cooking amazing things. I believe Serena's doing doctorate work translating ancient Greek texts. She also just got back from Australia, where she was visiting her boyfriend while he travels the world.
Oh, they also all speak multiple languages, are remarkably healthy, and are continually kind and helpful. So it's impossible to hate them. And they all have great shoes!
So here I am, a German major. I'm struggling to learn their language when they've already completely learned mine and it's not even what they're studying. I feel like their pet American, sometimes. Like "Awww. Let's see what grammar she screws up today!" or "Aww. Let's see her not know how to use the vacuum!". I feel like the little kid who can't color between the lines.
I'm doing my best, I'm just not used to this at all. All of the things I'm good at in the US don't count here. I can sing, which helps in choir, but the fact that my German vowels aren't impeccable holds me back. At home, I'm good at German but here I'm obviously handicapped. I'm a good writer and reader...in my own language. I'm good with boys but here, my love life curled up and died for some reason. I've lost interest in the male species for some reason.
That in itself is reason enough to cry.
It's wearing, even though I know, in a weird way, it's good for me.
I just know that there are people out there who would have been able to see past the flour on my shirt and the rain in my hair, straight to the unformed tears.
At least today, the weather understands me.
Ok, I will start from the beginning.
Today, about 15 minutes after waking up, Maxi warned me not to go outside because an Orkan was coming.
der Orkan - hurricane
What the hell, Germany?
It's not really a hurricane, because it's not circular, but that's just the German word for huge storm. Orkan Kyrill started out by Ireland and has made its way over northern France towards us. People in the city were getting hit with shingles, the winds were so bad. All the IES kids (our rival study abroad program) were advised not to go into the hills under any circumstances.
So, I of course hopped into Tom's Lupo to go storm-chasing, because I secretly have a death wish.
We just drove up to Schauinsland, climbed to the summit, and stood in some crazy wind for a bit. Oh man. Nothing like that to make you feel alive...and slight insane.
The scariest part was probably watching gigantic trees swaying about and creaking in the wind over us as we drove down. Nothing huge was crashing down around us, but still...
After returning from our adventure every weather channel, radio station, web site, etc. was advising all people to stay indoors until tomorrow morning. Hm. Get pelted with shingles and go to choir, or stay home, make cookies, and attempt further bonding with roommates.
Crap. I chose wrong.
I bought what I assumed would be the right supplies at Edeka with Tom which included flour, white sugar, brown sugar, baking powder, etc. I found the recipe I know best online, converted everything into liters, and went to town.
They went horribly horribly wrong. I suppose I could have blamed German ingredients or the fact that I haven't converted fractions correctly since the 6th grade, but instead I immediately got down on myself. I needed a slight push over the top and I guess that did it for me.
My first batch I immediately threw away, which Maxi protested and dragged out. The second batch I gave up on entirely, put them in the oven, and more or less locked myself in my room.
I just didn't want anyone to see me cry, which marks a very large difference in my behavior in Germany and in the US.
Tom took care of them (which I knew he would anyway) and gave me a bit of a lecture about how life is hard for everyone.
Ok, I realize that my problems are petty and slight compared to those of the majority of the world, but the fact is I am still human. I am going to get down on myself from time to time. It's inevitable.
And when I do, I have become entirely used to having people to turn to. I have a large family and am unusually close to distant relatives. I'm incredibly close to my parents and would like to think I also am with my siblings, although sometimes I think they'd rather see me dead. I also have developed a tightly knit web of great friends, at home and in Ann Arbor, whom I can comfortably bare my soul to.
If I were in the US, I could comfortably cry to any of these people about ruined cookies and they'd immediately understand the deeper meaning, ask the right questions, and open their arms to me. I've gotten used to that over 21 years. Spoiled in a lot of wonderful ways.
But I don't have that here. I have people I can talk to, but no one who can immediately look past the obvious and into what's really bothering me. I have learned how to cry alone, in secret, and not nearly as often. I have been met with challenges that would have made me completely crumble a year ago. Yes. I'm maturing. I'm growing. All kinds of amazing and positive attributes are popping out all over my personality in frightening ways. Blah blah. But it doesn't mean I don't miss comfort, security, understanding, and compassion in all of the faces around me.
Alright that last bit didn't much follow along with my intro. Onto that now.
I know how to make cookies. Yes, I am an immediate disaster in the kitchen, but I've been making chocolate chip cookies since I was old enough to reach over a counter. It's perhaps the one thing I can actually do very well in a kitchen and even though it's one measly, simple thing, I take pride in the fact that I can make a mean cookie.
So, when I messed that up today, for the first time ever, it was just another point for Germany. And all the time, I feel that Germany's racking up points and I'm struggling to keep up.
Take, my roommates for example. Granted, they are all older than me, but they make me feel so insufficient, juvenile and stupid. Christoph's in Med School and wakes up at 7 AM all the time to get to class. Tom's doing his thesis on Biomedical Engineering and in his free time is cooking amazing things. I believe Serena's doing doctorate work translating ancient Greek texts. She also just got back from Australia, where she was visiting her boyfriend while he travels the world.
Oh, they also all speak multiple languages, are remarkably healthy, and are continually kind and helpful. So it's impossible to hate them. And they all have great shoes!
So here I am, a German major. I'm struggling to learn their language when they've already completely learned mine and it's not even what they're studying. I feel like their pet American, sometimes. Like "Awww. Let's see what grammar she screws up today!" or "Aww. Let's see her not know how to use the vacuum!". I feel like the little kid who can't color between the lines.
I'm doing my best, I'm just not used to this at all. All of the things I'm good at in the US don't count here. I can sing, which helps in choir, but the fact that my German vowels aren't impeccable holds me back. At home, I'm good at German but here I'm obviously handicapped. I'm a good writer and reader...in my own language. I'm good with boys but here, my love life curled up and died for some reason. I've lost interest in the male species for some reason.
That in itself is reason enough to cry.
It's wearing, even though I know, in a weird way, it's good for me.
I just know that there are people out there who would have been able to see past the flour on my shirt and the rain in my hair, straight to the unformed tears.
At least today, the weather understands me.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
cur·rent - passing in time; belonging to the time actually passing
Sweet Jesus. I just went back and re-read that last entry and I sound like I'm on speed. I apologize.
I just got back from brunch with Natalie, which we do on occasion. Surprisingly, a lot of places around the city are open for Sunday brunch, but we generally stick to Aspekt. This time we both got a Milchkaffee and the Frankreich breakfast, which includes orange juice, two types of cheese, salami, butter, jam, honey, a hard-boiled egg, this amazing cheese spread, and a basket of Broetchen (little breads). There are several types of breakfasts to choose from, and they all are equally amazing. I plan on taking many a visitor here.
We sat around and talked about our breaks. She spent Christmas in Heidelberg and then 9 days in Paris with her French friend Laurent. For Christmas he bought a sheep for her which will go to some remote village to help poor women make things out of wool. I could not think of a better gift for Natalie, which gives you all one example of why I like her so much. After she said that I chuckled a bit and said "You'd fit perfectly in my family. My little brother saved a turkey and my step-mom is helping some woman start up a business." She gave me a funny face and said "You mean there are other people out there like me?!?"
We are tentatively planning a trip through Budapest and then around a bit of Romania, which sounds amazing to me. The pictures are breathtaking and in Eastern Europe we could actually afford to stay in hotels and get first class train tickets. Of course, every day my travel plans change, so who knows.
Natalie and I are both the type of people who would rather have a drink or two, talk with locals, and go to bed early instead of going to crazy clubs. Sure, that's fun occasionally, but I just felt that there was too much of that in Prague and Vienna. Granted, I did have a lot of fun with my friends, but partying too much stresses me out.
Anyway, back to my list of stuff to talk about. Ah yes...leaving home.
It was actually harder this time around. The first time I had no idea what was in store and I was setting off on this huge adventure, so all of that excitement took over. I was also basically a ball of adrenaline for the entire first flight, so that fought off the jet-lag.
This time I actually got to the airport a good 4 hours early with my passport in my hand, so I have learned my lesson. Mom got all sappy saying goodbye to me, which almost made me cry. My mother is not the type to tear up often, even though Laura and I cry often and very loudly. I have no idea what happened there, but at least Mom puts up with us.
The first time around I think my mother was happy to get me out of the country because I was stressing her out so much. I can't say I blame her.
My plane actually took of 2 hours late because they put too much fuel in the plane, and had to de-fuel? WHAT? This was after I had been sitting in the airport reading Time and Vanity Fair for 4 hours and pacing about anxiously, so I was ready to get the flight over.
Finally, we got on the plane, which actually wasn't much better because I was sitting between a horrible smelling French woman who came equipped with a smokers cough, no sense of personal space and she didn't speak a word of German or English. On my other side was a young German guy who was nice but was nervously clutching his rosary through the whole flight.
Tail winds were on my side that day. Literally. The flight only took 6 hours.
At baggage claim I ran into Stephanie who happened to be on my flight. Crazy that she and I didn't see each other, even though our plane was gigantic. It sat 3-4-3, which I think is the biggest one I've ever been on.
This time, adrenaline was not helping me, so I could barely stay conscious on the train back to Freiburg. Once I finally got home, Peter (another American) offered to come cook me dinner to keep me awake, which worked for a bit but I kept breaking or spilling things, including a gigantic plate of rice all over the kitchen. Christoph laughed at me in my "sheep costume" (my new robe) and told me I'd better go to bed. I agreed with him.
I slept from 8 PM to noon the next day. 16 hours. Oh it was blissful.
The next day I woke up horribly depressed, mostly because I was bored, overslept, and immediately missed my family. This lasted for about an hour until I snapped out of it. I'm young and in Europe. I am not going to waste time feeling sorry for myself. I love my family and of course I should miss them, but it'll be August in no time. Carpe diem, dammit.
I called Julia.
Julia- Well, if you're really bored you can come walk around Freiburg with my mom and me?
Becca- YES! I WANT TO RUN THROUGH THE STREETS. I NEED TO GET OUTSIDE.
Julia - Uh...
This ended up being the best idea ever because Julia's super English mother made me laugh and kept going on about how lucky we are to be in Europe. We hiked up a bit into the Schlossberg which gives you an amazing view out over Freiburg. It didn't hurt that we were up there during the sunset. All of this just reminded me how much I love this city.
God comes to me at interesting times, but when she does, I feel that she gives me unmistakable signs. A glorious sunset and good company was the perfect cure for my melancholy. I should really start making a collection of the coincidences and heart-warming experiences that make me believe in God. Some are very odd, but hey, that's how I operate.
The other day, while scouting out travel guides with Drew, I ran across the map section of Buchhandlung Rombach. They come in long cylindrical tubes and I was fighting the urge to swordfight with them, of course. For a long time I've wanted a really nice map of the world but last year I had hardly any wall space, so it wasn't an option. I treated myself to a 14 Euro laminated map of the planet. It's a bit colorful for my tastes, but it's glorious. It even shows currents and wind drifts!
I hung it right above my desk so right now I'm at eye level with Bolivia and Botswana. I also have Jimmy's football picture up, one of Laura and me at the Renaissance festival, and one of Skit looking very handsome.
Friday afternoon Laura IMed me "Mom's dying...Becca" which is a horrible, horrible thing to say. I immediately got violently nauseous, thought that she had been diagnosed with cancer, I'd have to rush home, etc.
Laura, however, was exaggerating and after yelling at her about scaring me half to death, she gave me the story. Basically, my poor, poor mother got the flu, had 2 unsuccessful root canals in one week, and woke up Thursday night shaking, sweating, and with the most intense pain of her life. She got rushed into oral surgery where they found some nerves and fluid and infection...(Don't you all love my medical terms?) But Laura told me that she was at home, sleeping and being taken care of by Earl. I told Laura to get home and get home NOW because I couldn't, obviously.
I immediately began calling Earl's phone and then tried my mom's, which she answered. She sounded horrible, which just made me cry and cry...and then cry more. My mother is my tower of strength, so to hear her like that was really rough.
15 minutes after hearing this I had to go babysit Isaac, which was actually good for me because it forced me to stop crying and get out of my room. Also, happy, playing 4-year-olds can immediately cheer a person up. I told him it was his job to cheer me up, which he did with some books about train stations. After he went to bed I also got some quality journal time.
Anyway, Mommy is doing a lot better now and is eating lots of soup and mashed potatoes. Gott sei dank.
Obviously it was scary because I love my mom and I hate thinking that she's in pain, but it was also a reminder of how helpless I am here. Technology does wonders, but only a plane ticket can get me home to be next to my sick mother. If I were in Ann Arbor I could be home in a half hour, but it's not that simple from here. I am thankful that it was nothing life threatening, but being aware of that possibility scares me to no end.
Family, stay healthy, or I'll kill you.
Alright, as it is a rainy Sunday afternoon, I am going to enjoy some J.D. Salinger and take a nap.
Carpe diem, no?
I just got back from brunch with Natalie, which we do on occasion. Surprisingly, a lot of places around the city are open for Sunday brunch, but we generally stick to Aspekt. This time we both got a Milchkaffee and the Frankreich breakfast, which includes orange juice, two types of cheese, salami, butter, jam, honey, a hard-boiled egg, this amazing cheese spread, and a basket of Broetchen (little breads). There are several types of breakfasts to choose from, and they all are equally amazing. I plan on taking many a visitor here.
We sat around and talked about our breaks. She spent Christmas in Heidelberg and then 9 days in Paris with her French friend Laurent. For Christmas he bought a sheep for her which will go to some remote village to help poor women make things out of wool. I could not think of a better gift for Natalie, which gives you all one example of why I like her so much. After she said that I chuckled a bit and said "You'd fit perfectly in my family. My little brother saved a turkey and my step-mom is helping some woman start up a business." She gave me a funny face and said "You mean there are other people out there like me?!?"
We are tentatively planning a trip through Budapest and then around a bit of Romania, which sounds amazing to me. The pictures are breathtaking and in Eastern Europe we could actually afford to stay in hotels and get first class train tickets. Of course, every day my travel plans change, so who knows.
Natalie and I are both the type of people who would rather have a drink or two, talk with locals, and go to bed early instead of going to crazy clubs. Sure, that's fun occasionally, but I just felt that there was too much of that in Prague and Vienna. Granted, I did have a lot of fun with my friends, but partying too much stresses me out.
Anyway, back to my list of stuff to talk about. Ah yes...leaving home.
It was actually harder this time around. The first time I had no idea what was in store and I was setting off on this huge adventure, so all of that excitement took over. I was also basically a ball of adrenaline for the entire first flight, so that fought off the jet-lag.
This time I actually got to the airport a good 4 hours early with my passport in my hand, so I have learned my lesson. Mom got all sappy saying goodbye to me, which almost made me cry. My mother is not the type to tear up often, even though Laura and I cry often and very loudly. I have no idea what happened there, but at least Mom puts up with us.
The first time around I think my mother was happy to get me out of the country because I was stressing her out so much. I can't say I blame her.
My plane actually took of 2 hours late because they put too much fuel in the plane, and had to de-fuel? WHAT? This was after I had been sitting in the airport reading Time and Vanity Fair for 4 hours and pacing about anxiously, so I was ready to get the flight over.
Finally, we got on the plane, which actually wasn't much better because I was sitting between a horrible smelling French woman who came equipped with a smokers cough, no sense of personal space and she didn't speak a word of German or English. On my other side was a young German guy who was nice but was nervously clutching his rosary through the whole flight.
Tail winds were on my side that day. Literally. The flight only took 6 hours.
At baggage claim I ran into Stephanie who happened to be on my flight. Crazy that she and I didn't see each other, even though our plane was gigantic. It sat 3-4-3, which I think is the biggest one I've ever been on.
This time, adrenaline was not helping me, so I could barely stay conscious on the train back to Freiburg. Once I finally got home, Peter (another American) offered to come cook me dinner to keep me awake, which worked for a bit but I kept breaking or spilling things, including a gigantic plate of rice all over the kitchen. Christoph laughed at me in my "sheep costume" (my new robe) and told me I'd better go to bed. I agreed with him.
I slept from 8 PM to noon the next day. 16 hours. Oh it was blissful.
The next day I woke up horribly depressed, mostly because I was bored, overslept, and immediately missed my family. This lasted for about an hour until I snapped out of it. I'm young and in Europe. I am not going to waste time feeling sorry for myself. I love my family and of course I should miss them, but it'll be August in no time. Carpe diem, dammit.
I called Julia.
Julia- Well, if you're really bored you can come walk around Freiburg with my mom and me?
Becca- YES! I WANT TO RUN THROUGH THE STREETS. I NEED TO GET OUTSIDE.
Julia - Uh...
This ended up being the best idea ever because Julia's super English mother made me laugh and kept going on about how lucky we are to be in Europe. We hiked up a bit into the Schlossberg which gives you an amazing view out over Freiburg. It didn't hurt that we were up there during the sunset. All of this just reminded me how much I love this city.
God comes to me at interesting times, but when she does, I feel that she gives me unmistakable signs. A glorious sunset and good company was the perfect cure for my melancholy. I should really start making a collection of the coincidences and heart-warming experiences that make me believe in God. Some are very odd, but hey, that's how I operate.
The other day, while scouting out travel guides with Drew, I ran across the map section of Buchhandlung Rombach. They come in long cylindrical tubes and I was fighting the urge to swordfight with them, of course. For a long time I've wanted a really nice map of the world but last year I had hardly any wall space, so it wasn't an option. I treated myself to a 14 Euro laminated map of the planet. It's a bit colorful for my tastes, but it's glorious. It even shows currents and wind drifts!
I hung it right above my desk so right now I'm at eye level with Bolivia and Botswana. I also have Jimmy's football picture up, one of Laura and me at the Renaissance festival, and one of Skit looking very handsome.
Friday afternoon Laura IMed me "Mom's dying...Becca" which is a horrible, horrible thing to say. I immediately got violently nauseous, thought that she had been diagnosed with cancer, I'd have to rush home, etc.
Laura, however, was exaggerating and after yelling at her about scaring me half to death, she gave me the story. Basically, my poor, poor mother got the flu, had 2 unsuccessful root canals in one week, and woke up Thursday night shaking, sweating, and with the most intense pain of her life. She got rushed into oral surgery where they found some nerves and fluid and infection...(Don't you all love my medical terms?) But Laura told me that she was at home, sleeping and being taken care of by Earl. I told Laura to get home and get home NOW because I couldn't, obviously.
I immediately began calling Earl's phone and then tried my mom's, which she answered. She sounded horrible, which just made me cry and cry...and then cry more. My mother is my tower of strength, so to hear her like that was really rough.
15 minutes after hearing this I had to go babysit Isaac, which was actually good for me because it forced me to stop crying and get out of my room. Also, happy, playing 4-year-olds can immediately cheer a person up. I told him it was his job to cheer me up, which he did with some books about train stations. After he went to bed I also got some quality journal time.
Anyway, Mommy is doing a lot better now and is eating lots of soup and mashed potatoes. Gott sei dank.
Obviously it was scary because I love my mom and I hate thinking that she's in pain, but it was also a reminder of how helpless I am here. Technology does wonders, but only a plane ticket can get me home to be next to my sick mother. If I were in Ann Arbor I could be home in a half hour, but it's not that simple from here. I am thankful that it was nothing life threatening, but being aware of that possibility scares me to no end.
Family, stay healthy, or I'll kill you.
Alright, as it is a rainy Sunday afternoon, I am going to enjoy some J.D. Salinger and take a nap.
Carpe diem, no?
Thursday, January 11, 2007
103 to 96
Well, it has indeed been a long time and although many of you pestered me to update while at home, I decided that things like quality time with my cat, sleeping in my sister's bed, and driving back and forth from Ann Arbor 40 times were more important. I have no regrets.
I have flown across the ocean twice. Give me a break.
Now, the Table of Contents, as I pretend to be organized
1)going home
2)being home
3)leaving home, Round 2
4)being back in good ol' F-burg
5)my sweet map and bag! oh golly!
6)the future. the visitors. oh help.
Now, getting home required basically every form of transportation known to man. Had I been asked to ride a camel for a portion of it, I would not have been surprised.
I said goodbye to Freiburg and took the 9 AM train to Frankfurt, which wasn't too painfully early. Around 11 we pulled into the Frankfurt am Main main train station which is this hulking mass of glass, steel, and moving bodies. I had been told by several people...several AMERICANS actually, that the train station would be directly attached to the airport, but as soon as I saw the size of this place, I began to worry. No one would put a train station that size next to a gigantic international airport in the middle of a city.
So, I looked for 'Flughafen' signs, couldn't find any, and panicked. 2 hours til I was supposed to be in the air. I scurried over to a group of nice looking businessman and stammered out a few questions. Luckily, these guys told me exactly which platform to go to, what time it came in, and then they all told me to calm down and wished me luck. Hey, maybe every Frankfurter knows exactly which platform takes people to the main airport (103, by the way) and what times it comes, but I was fairly impressed.
Turns out there is a train station attached to the airport, but not the main one. Well, that would make sense.
So, after a bit on the subway, I was at the airport. Some friendly guy named Timo helped me with my bags and talked with me about zoology for a bit. Then the guy at check in flirted with me. The customs guy flirted with me. Then I took not one, but TWO buses. The first to get to my terminal. The second to get to my plane.
Once I was actually physically on the airplane, I felt a thousand times better. I spent the majority of the flight chatting with a 16-year-old guy from Bavaria, named Sildi or Shildi or something interesting. He's out of school, already working as an auto mechanic, and doesn't remember any of his English. He was going to spend Christmas in Detroit with his father whom he hadn't seen in 12 years. I was also more nervous than he was, which I found odd.
Once we were flying over Michigan he kept saying "Let's keep the plane going to LA". I told him that'd take 5 more hours and he said "Yea, but in a car."
I think that comment made me laugh so hard, apple juice shot out of my nose, but I can't say for sure.
Ohhh, child.
Once we were finally in Detroit, I had to wait for my bags and go through customs, which was torture at that point because I knew my parents were so close. I also wanted to fall asleep on the luggage carousel, which I don't think would have gone over well.
But, I made it through, and my fan club (minus my bratty sister) were there to welcome me back.
Now, being home...
The biggest shock for me was that nothing had really changed, other than all of my parents changing their diets. My dad and step-mom are now hardcore vegetarians and my mom and Earl...I think they made up their own, cuz I'm not really sure what's going on, but good for them.
I basically settled back into my life at home, even though there were certain thing that hit me out of left field.
For instance, paper towels, dishwashers, garbage disposals, sheets, pita bread, pita chips, anything with pita, REFILLS...
Those are just the things that are coming off the top of my head, but you can get the general idea. I also most definitely did not miss having to share a bathroom with my sister and my mother and having everything I own scattered about in gigantic piles. I'm sick of my parents thinking I'm some slob but if I have a space in which to sprawl and organize my things, I'm good to go.
August is going to be awful for that. I'm going to get back, crying and missing Germany, and then realize everything I own is unorganized and boxed up. Bleech.
Ok I'm making home sound like hell, which it definitely was not. It was wonderful to be around the people I love. I got to eat at my favorite restaurants. I got everything I wanted for Christmas and I think the gifts I gave were well received. I got free J. Alexanders with Molly. I got to kick my brother's butt at Scrabble. I got to drag race on I96 in my dad's car.
Ok that last one may or may not be true.
New Years was spent in Ann Arbor with my best friends at UMich who showered me with hugs, questions, and inside jokes. Sooooooo nice to see them. I'm very excited to live with them all next year.
At the party I had a lot of "So how was running away to Germany? You happy to be back? Where are you living now?"
Psh, sir, you think I would do that SEMESTER stuff? Childs play.
Really, I can't think of much else to say about home. It was nice to be back where I'm used to things. I understand America and how it works. That was kind of comforting, but really what was nice about being home was just seeing people. When it all comes down to it, Germany and America are very, very similar. There's nothing that I absolutely need that I can only get in the US and not get here. Maybe Grade E beef.
However, I don't have my family here. I don't have my friends here. I don't have Skit here.
That's what I loved about being home, which was to be expected.
Alright I could ambitiously dive into 'leaving home, Round 2' but I have choir in an hour and before that I have to drop Sonja's sleeping bag off in Vauban. Going outside is also like stepping right into a tornado. I can't really complain, because at this time of year I'm more used to blizzards. But it's doing dreadful things to my hair.
Off to brave the elements.
I have flown across the ocean twice. Give me a break.
Now, the Table of Contents, as I pretend to be organized
1)going home
2)being home
3)leaving home, Round 2
4)being back in good ol' F-burg
5)my sweet map and bag! oh golly!
6)the future. the visitors. oh help.
Now, getting home required basically every form of transportation known to man. Had I been asked to ride a camel for a portion of it, I would not have been surprised.
I said goodbye to Freiburg and took the 9 AM train to Frankfurt, which wasn't too painfully early. Around 11 we pulled into the Frankfurt am Main main train station which is this hulking mass of glass, steel, and moving bodies. I had been told by several people...several AMERICANS actually, that the train station would be directly attached to the airport, but as soon as I saw the size of this place, I began to worry. No one would put a train station that size next to a gigantic international airport in the middle of a city.
So, I looked for 'Flughafen' signs, couldn't find any, and panicked. 2 hours til I was supposed to be in the air. I scurried over to a group of nice looking businessman and stammered out a few questions. Luckily, these guys told me exactly which platform to go to, what time it came in, and then they all told me to calm down and wished me luck. Hey, maybe every Frankfurter knows exactly which platform takes people to the main airport (103, by the way) and what times it comes, but I was fairly impressed.
Turns out there is a train station attached to the airport, but not the main one. Well, that would make sense.
So, after a bit on the subway, I was at the airport. Some friendly guy named Timo helped me with my bags and talked with me about zoology for a bit. Then the guy at check in flirted with me. The customs guy flirted with me. Then I took not one, but TWO buses. The first to get to my terminal. The second to get to my plane.
Once I was actually physically on the airplane, I felt a thousand times better. I spent the majority of the flight chatting with a 16-year-old guy from Bavaria, named Sildi or Shildi or something interesting. He's out of school, already working as an auto mechanic, and doesn't remember any of his English. He was going to spend Christmas in Detroit with his father whom he hadn't seen in 12 years. I was also more nervous than he was, which I found odd.
Once we were flying over Michigan he kept saying "Let's keep the plane going to LA". I told him that'd take 5 more hours and he said "Yea, but in a car."
I think that comment made me laugh so hard, apple juice shot out of my nose, but I can't say for sure.
Ohhh, child.
Once we were finally in Detroit, I had to wait for my bags and go through customs, which was torture at that point because I knew my parents were so close. I also wanted to fall asleep on the luggage carousel, which I don't think would have gone over well.
But, I made it through, and my fan club (minus my bratty sister) were there to welcome me back.
Now, being home...
The biggest shock for me was that nothing had really changed, other than all of my parents changing their diets. My dad and step-mom are now hardcore vegetarians and my mom and Earl...I think they made up their own, cuz I'm not really sure what's going on, but good for them.
I basically settled back into my life at home, even though there were certain thing that hit me out of left field.
For instance, paper towels, dishwashers, garbage disposals, sheets, pita bread, pita chips, anything with pita, REFILLS...
Those are just the things that are coming off the top of my head, but you can get the general idea. I also most definitely did not miss having to share a bathroom with my sister and my mother and having everything I own scattered about in gigantic piles. I'm sick of my parents thinking I'm some slob but if I have a space in which to sprawl and organize my things, I'm good to go.
August is going to be awful for that. I'm going to get back, crying and missing Germany, and then realize everything I own is unorganized and boxed up. Bleech.
Ok I'm making home sound like hell, which it definitely was not. It was wonderful to be around the people I love. I got to eat at my favorite restaurants. I got everything I wanted for Christmas and I think the gifts I gave were well received. I got free J. Alexanders with Molly. I got to kick my brother's butt at Scrabble. I got to drag race on I96 in my dad's car.
Ok that last one may or may not be true.
New Years was spent in Ann Arbor with my best friends at UMich who showered me with hugs, questions, and inside jokes. Sooooooo nice to see them. I'm very excited to live with them all next year.
At the party I had a lot of "So how was running away to Germany? You happy to be back? Where are you living now?"
Psh, sir, you think I would do that SEMESTER stuff? Childs play.
Really, I can't think of much else to say about home. It was nice to be back where I'm used to things. I understand America and how it works. That was kind of comforting, but really what was nice about being home was just seeing people. When it all comes down to it, Germany and America are very, very similar. There's nothing that I absolutely need that I can only get in the US and not get here. Maybe Grade E beef.
However, I don't have my family here. I don't have my friends here. I don't have Skit here.
That's what I loved about being home, which was to be expected.
Alright I could ambitiously dive into 'leaving home, Round 2' but I have choir in an hour and before that I have to drop Sonja's sleeping bag off in Vauban. Going outside is also like stepping right into a tornado. I can't really complain, because at this time of year I'm more used to blizzards. But it's doing dreadful things to my hair.
Off to brave the elements.
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