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?