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.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
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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