wisdom begins in wonder

taco beans and fish heads

2008-03-21T20:33:00.000-07:00

I, once again, have come down with a dreadful head cold and am sitting sprawled out on my bed, breathing heavily through my mouth. I've got Carmex smeared all over my nose and discarded tissues are littering my room, which is an all too familiar scene. So, I should be in bed, but considering the solid 10 hours of sleep I got last night and the easy day of work I had, I'm not tired. Instead I've got some tea, some fine smelling candles, and my thoughts.
I went into work today at 11, left around 2, and walked with $18. I went in again at 4 for food show (our weekly all-staff meeting where we sample the specials and listen to our boss complain) and left at 5 because I had been cut for the night. This was good news, since waitresses with an excess of phlegm and gravelly voices tend to make less. This was also bad news because I need to be making $ so that I don't starve in Scotland.
Anyway...
On Tuesday night, my newest sibling made his entrance into this grand world. Weighing in at 9 lbs. 13 oz, Michael Winfield came out at 7:59 PM absolutely healthy and beautiful, with a nice, loud set of lungs. I turned into a sobbing mess, of course, and immediately started trying to steal his thunder. We only visited for about 10 minutes, let Karyn get some rest, and went back again the next day after he was all cleaned up.
At first, I was worried about holding him. Newborn babies just look so tiny and slippery and considering how clumsy I am, I didn't want to take any chances. I quickly got convinced into it though, and spent some time bonding with the little taco bean. I kept calling him a turd and Dad was getting upset with me. He is pretty spectacular, though. I won't go into all of that "miracle of life" junk but it's pretty great that my parents made that happen. It was wonderful meeting him for the first time, but equally as great was seeing how my dad and Karyn glowed. I only have a few more months living a half hour from the lil guy, however, so I have to make it a good few months. And, maybe I should start really looking for a job.

Anyway, instead of working on the Art History paper I have due next week on de Kooning and Picasso, I believe I will continue where I left off so many months ago...
BRASOV, ROMANIA
Roughly a year ago today, Natalie and I boarded a 12 hour train heading from Budapest, Hungary, straight into the heart of Romania. And, from here on out, I will do something that I never thought I would, and that will be to pull excerpts directly from my journal, with some minor editing....
April 9th 12:41
(While writing this I was on the train going from Brasov to Bucharest, this is halfway through the entry)
"On our last night in Budapest we crashed at 12:30, got up at 5:30 for an 8:15 train. Then we spent 11 hours and 18 minutes on a train that was...questionable. Natalie and I brought along snacks galore and exchanged travel stories with some guy from North Carolinia who told us all about running from wild dogs in Mexico. Then we relaxed, considering we were both sore and horribly bruised from our caving adventure.
The Romanian countryside is breathtaking, but it also makes my heart ache. The houses are all old and crumbling, and it's not uncommon to see several horse-drawn carriages. The whole picture looks ancient and undeveloped, as if captured in a sepia-toned photograph. I am, of course, completely unaccustomed to this, but Natalie's been to Haiti before and has seen true poverty. It doesn't bother me too much, since I already know that I do want to go out and help people. The problem is focusing exactly on where, what, and how.
Once we got into Brasov, we found our hostel and promptly passed out. Yesterday we relaxed, which was sorely needed (harhar). When we first arrived, absolutely nothing was open since it was 9 PM the night before Easter. I had a princess moment when I thought that I'd have to eat rice and salt for the next 2 days straight. I, however, quickly collected myself and we mixed our rice with tomato broth soup for dinner, which was decent and filling."

I quickly wrapped up that entry because I was drooling over Magnus (hold on a moment to learn about him) and felt that I should be taking pictures out of the train window of the mountains...and Magnus.
Easter Sunday in Romania was much better than expected. The weather was glorious and Natalie and I took a little stroll into the city center of Brasov, which wasn't large, but was fairly clean and modern. We wandered into some restaurant that didn't have a hint of English anywhere, bit our vegetarian lips, and pointed at the specials page randomly. There was a #1 and a #2, so we decided to split whatever came our way.
The first thing I got was some spicy red soup with an entire fish head in it. The rest of the meal consisted of meat, meat, some overcooked asparagus, and more meat. We ate it all up...and tried not to be too sad.
We wandered a bit more through the city, and saw stray dogs sleeping in the park...adjacent to the sleeping bums. We also saw a procession of men wearing identical navy blazers, what looked like white skirts, and funny fez-like hats. One of them was playing the violin horribly and the rest of them were singing out of tune. We weren't sure what to make of it, but cheered them on.
Back at the hostel we relaxed for the rest of the night, and chatted with various people. Magnus (German), James (Spanish), and Hector (Mexican) were international students studying in Lyon, France, and were also vacationing around Eastern Europe. They were interesting, funny, and very intelligent, so we enjoyed their company. Magnus was our favorite, however, and Natalie and I immediately turned into giggling schoolgirls around him. He was studying law, extremely polite, fluent in 4 languages, well-traveled, witty, extremely good-looking, blah blah. I could really go on forever about this guy. He was husband material.
That night, while everyone was asleep and curled deep into their beds, Magnus and I stayed up late whispering to each other from across the bunk beds. I don't remember out conversation being very long and I don't remember what we chatted about but I remember going to sleep very content. Now, I'm going back to the journal, which will only prove to you all that girls get downright silly when boys pay attention to them .
(the first half of the entry)
"I am in a state of pure joy, which is fairly amazing considering how my perspective has changed so violently in the past year. Last night I showered seated and with lukewarm water, which was unique in its own way. I got to have fresh coffee this morning, along with bread with butter and peach jap. I got a full night's sleep. There is also soap and toilet paper in our current train, which is an added bonus. I am bathed, fed, slept, and the weather is glorious. Really, what else does a person need, aside from a good book?
We are seated across from an adorable old Romanian couple who look like they are brimming with worthwhile stories. The man is wearing a dress shirt, a sweater, and a sweater vest, none of which match at all. Cutie German, Mexican, and Spaniard are across the train from us, chattering happily away in French. For last night they were in our room and now we are all together on a train to Bucharest. Tonight we are in some place called Butterfly Villa, which is buried in some remote location. This doesn't set me at ease, since Bucharest is supposedly overrun with packs of wild dogs. Then, apparently Istanbul is supposed to be overrun with Australians, to honor some battle they fought in WWI on April 25th. If I have to sleep on a roof for the night, I'll live.
(and finally, here is end of the entry)
Natalie and Magnus are trading cameras across the train so that we can all get pictures from both sides. We're riding in a magnificent valley between the Carpathians, which are astonishing. Ok. I am going to wrap up this babble, since I should pay more attention to Magnus and his smile. Oh, if only my German weren't so horrible and my appearance not so bedraggled. But I am living life right now, and it's marvelous."

So, there it is, folks. Words from my actual, REAL journal. I never thought this day would come. But there's nothing too revealing in there...and I left out enough to keep it interesting.
I will do Bucharest at a later date, considering that a great deal of things happened in a period of about 30 hours and I don't want to leave out any of the suspenseful details.
Two things I feel like I should mention...
1) Magnus and I are friends on studivz.net (German facebook) but we parted ways once we arrived in Bucharest. He sent me a message about potentially visiting in Freiburg, but it never came to pass. Alas, he will have to go on the list of "Ones That Got Away"...(cue dramatic music)
2) Of all the hostels i stayed at over my 11 months in Europe, the Kismet Dao hostel in Brasov, Romania was hands down my favorite. It was a very skinny hostel spread out over 4 floors, and was a bit like a real-life version of the Weasley house from the Harry Potter books. It was very lived-in, comfortable, and quirky. I immediately liked it when I walked in and saw a large group of backpackers watching Aladdin. There were also framed quotes all over the place, about being more Zen. Even though I had to shower out of the sink when I first got there (due to lack of hot water) I still give it a hearty thumbs up.

Alright, time to scoot off to bed. My nose is about to fall off.
Oh...Magnus...
(music fades)

sunrise, sunset

2008-03-10T21:42:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I haven't died and dropped off the planet. Maybe the latter, but I'm working my way back.
It feels weird to be updating my blog from my desk in Michigan, on a new computer, and without a fresh chunk of German chocolate sitting on my desk. It's funny, because although those were often my loneliest times abroad, I still miss them horribly. I spent so many nights cooped up in my room alone, watching illegal movies until the wee hours of the morning. I did that a lot simply because going out was expensive and I was trying to save every last penny to travel. One of my fondest memories is curling up on my loft, watching Shrek 3 and eating paprika chips.
I was so sure that once I was home, I would regret all those hours of solitude, doing things I could easily have done here. But then again, I wasn't in Europe to travel for 11 months straight. I was actually living there. And I am not the type to thrive well while running around partying 24/7. And when I did get out, by golly I was living life. But in order to appreciate what I was constantly seeing and experiencing, I needed that down-time to properly absorb and digest.
There is one part in Forrest Gump where I think he's talking to Jenny and she's laying in bed dying of AIDs. I forget what question she asks him, but he begins talking about several different moments in his life where he's seen truly beautiful things. Now, I certainly have not lived to the extent that Forrest Gump does in the film, but I guess sometimes that happens to me about Europe. I remember the moments that stood out so distinctly for me, that it chokes me up trying to recall them. Sometimes I miss Europe so much that it aches inside of me.

-I remember first walking into the city center of Prague immediately after the sun had set. The sky was a deep cobalt color and the impressive spires of the city only looked simply breathtaking with such a backdrop.
-I remember my first day out alone in Freiburg, and returning home to realize that it had been my first day not consulting a map at all. I also cooked dinner for myself that night with fresh ingredients that I had just purchased from the Edeka around the corner
-I remember getting lost in Rome at night, while holding John's hand and enjoying the balmy air. We were sure lost, but we were also together in one of the most ancient and beautiful cities in the world, and that was ok with me.
-I remember wandering into the Freiburg cathedral on a lazy Sunday, and hearing someone playing the organ. No one else was listening so I sat for a few minutes, closed my eyes, and heard some perfectly played Bach echoing off walls which had been erected in the 15th century.
-I remember watching the Belgian family that sat across from me on a train from Vienna to Budapest. I understood very littly with my limited French, but I understood enough to realize that I was watching a very close, loving family interacting. It made my heart warm.
-I remember flying out of Amsterdam and watching the expanse of the flat country spread out below me as we ascended. I was in dreadful pain, due to my head cold, and without saying anything, Julia reached over, patted my arm, and asked me if it reminded me of home.
-I remember my night train from Paris to Karlsruhe. I was laying down in a row of seats and gazing out the window upside-down while my travel companion was cuddled up in the row across from me. The night was crystal clear and I just stared up at the stars until I dozed off.
-I remember finding a place to eat in Bucharest on Easter Monday, when half the city was shutdown due to the holiday. We eventually found a hole in the wall that specialized in Arabic food and upon realizing that we were Americans, the waitresses face lit up. She struggled trying to show off her English but understood enough to know that we wanted no meat and was wildy eager to please us. She also gave us half our meal for free and we tipped her excessively. She'll always stick out in my memory not only because she was so kind, but because there was also something so tragic about her.
-I remember driving into Turkey during our overnight bus ride, and seeing my first mosque by night, only a few hours before the sun rose. The spires were all lit up and looked like golden beacons in the night sky. It was simply breathtaking and made more magical since I was the only one awake on the bus.
-I remember laying awake in our hostel bunk bed in Munich and chatting with my Lizzy, just like we had done as 6th graders, but doing it an ocean away from where we had both grown up and realizing how far we had both come since then.
-I remember my last sunset overlooking Freiburg. Christoph insisted on taking me up the Schlossberg one last time, on the night before I left, and the weather was perfect. The entire city was bathed in a rosy glow and we sat there for a good hour, talking about the past year and what the future held in store for both of us. I have seen several sunsets in my 22 years, but that sunset was far and away the best I have ever seen or felt. I know very few of you got the opportunity to visit me and see how gorgeous a panoramic view of Freiburg was, but the city is beautiful in so many ways and I wish I could have shared it with all of you. It was undoubtedly the most powerful way to end my time in Germany. Pictures could not even have begun to capture the experience.

I've listed a few of these thoughts so as to try to get you all to understand what I mean when I say I miss Europe. I realize that everyone misses the past places they've lived in some way or another, but it's different when you completely transplanted yourself at a young age to another continent. I made good friends in Europe and I hope to see them again, but I did not get as attached to any one person or even Germany as much as I got attached to Europe as a whole. It satisfied me in so many ways the USA didn't and I suppose I miss it in the way that other women miss old lovers.
So when I purchased my plane ticket to Scotland this morning, it made me excited, but not in the way that I've been excited about trips in my past. I cried out of relief, simply realizing that I get to go back, and see ancient cathedrals, moderately sized vehicles, and lively street pubs. I get to meet, talk, and share a beer with people from all over the world. I get to hear church bells, different languages being spoken, and ambulance sirens that play a tritone. I miss it all so, so, so much and need this trip more than I initially realized. Yes, I know that it is expensive and "impractical" to go to the UK right now, but I need to get away from the American work-work-work mentality. My soul feels more at rest simply knowing that in May I will be back on the other side of the Atlantic. My only fear is that going back will remind me that I will someday want to permanently.
I am not trying to run away from the job search and organizing my life, but I feel that the reasons provided above can justify my future wanderings. I have a feeling that going back for 10 days will satiate me, and I will once again be ready to conquer all things American.

But of course, this all depends on what I dwell on in my moments of solitude.

plagues and pests

2007-06-03T10:21:00.000-07:00

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.

greenery

2007-04-29T02:15:00.000-07:00

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.

maps of the mindset/mindsets of the map

2007-03-22T11:25:00.000-07:00

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.

six months

2007-03-02T15:27:00.000-08:00

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?

tuition and fruition

2007-02-12T14:15:00.000-08:00

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?

stressed interestingness

2007-02-03T09:37:00.000-08:00

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.

internal and external hurricanes

2007-01-18T11:42:00.000-08:00

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.

cur·rent - passing in time; belonging to the time actually passing

2007-01-14T03:54:00.000-08:00

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?

103 to 96

2007-01-11T08:56:00.000-08:00

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.

claustrophobia, hypothermia, and soft-boiled eggs

2006-12-20T04:55:00.000-08:00

I am having a rough day.

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

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

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

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

I will be 21 in exactly a month. Wow.

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

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

cross-dressing in the library

2006-12-12T14:22:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

crepes and kirs

2006-11-30T15:48:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the formative years

2006-11-23T05:29:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

academic requirements and moral obligations

2006-11-17T04:28:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

the Bum and the Bard

2006-11-06T07:38:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

sed vivam

2006-10-27T08:09:00.000-07:00

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

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

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

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

grooming

2006-10-18T11:13:00.000-07:00

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

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

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

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

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

sleeping giant

2006-10-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

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

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

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

Off to trash my room some more.

Ferrell and Freud

2006-10-09T18:05:00.000-07:00

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

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

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

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

intimidating and emulating

2006-10-07T13:43:00.000-07:00

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

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

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

welcome to Bavaria

2006-10-03T15:13:00.000-07:00

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

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

oktoberfest

2006-09-27T17:35:00.000-07:00

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

emotional epilepsy

2006-09-23T16:10:00.000-07:00

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

going east

2006-09-22T10:36:00.000-07:00

I'm eating some bread with cream cheese, which is only making me miss my mother. I have noticed, after much research, that my mother is pretty lazy about putting cream cheese on bagels. I mean, she's a busy lady, but when she puts on cream cheese it's like she sticks the knife in once, takes out half the container, and then smears it all on one side.
I know, I know. My childhood was so difficult.
Yesterday I bought some wonderful new European shoes for 20 Euro. I now feel better about foot attire, which is absolutely essential in this continent. New Balances are the shoe of choice for most American college campuses, and we've heard mixed reviews about what Europeans think of them. I've heard that they are shoes for "poor people", but Christoph tells me they're really trendy because you can't get them over here. I have my trusty pair in boring grey with fraying laces, which absolutely scream America. I'll probably continue wearing them because at this point, they are like old friends.
Soooo, today I got one of my "mid-terms" back. 91%, which is absolutely amazing considering how much studying I did. I am happy with that. This was Grammatik, which is where I'm strongest. Today we took the Konversation test, so we'll see. Both exams count for 20% of my final grade in the class, but I'm not too concerned. Back in the States I'm usually all about being a totally stressed out student who lives in the library but while I'm here, I am going to do my best just to chill. My education will come from everyday living, and not learning exactly which adverb fits.
I woke up early today, and by early I mean 9:30. From October 9-13 we have to have a half hour academic appointment with Frau Mittman to decide which classes we will be taking. The sign-up sheet just went up in the AYF Office, so I wanted to scurry on over there to get a good time. The sooner we all get our appointments in, the earlier we can leave for Prague and run around like carefree hooligans. 4 girls and 1 gay man. This is going to be amazing.
Prague/Vienna planning is going well, but is also totally stressing me out. It looks like our train tickets in total will be 200 Euro, even with the discount. We've all purchased 'Bahnkarten' which are discount cards you can get for students that are 100 Euro. They get you half off every train ticket you buy for a year. So, this card will basically pay for itself on this trip. Thankfully, people in this world recognize that college students are dirtpoor. Like me.
Our tentative plans give us a full weekend in Prague, which has an amazing nightlife and I am so excited about. It will also be useful having Maryia with us, who says she can understand Czech. Vienna won't be a problem because I'll be with a bunch of German majors. I've already started looking into a few hostels. So, things are moving along smoothly. Hopefully I won't end up sleeping on a park bench with Czech bums, although that would make for a wonderful story.
It'll take us 9 and a half hours to get to Prague for 70 Euro. Boooo.
I've also contacted Lisa, my dear friend who is studying in Paris for the year. She's living with a host family in a huge apartment right in the middle of Paris, so I have somewhere to stay when I eventually go in that direction. I also have my friend, Melanie, staying the year in Padua, Italy. Then second semester I know a ton of people making their way over here to study abroad. This is all very exciting not only because they are familiar places, but I can go crash with them for free!
Laura has recently informed me that she's looking into studying abroad somewhere in the UK. I remember a few months back while I was doing paperwork for this program and Laura was flipping through the MSU Study Abroad booklet, my mother muttered "Geez I'll have to get another job." I definitely think Laura should study abroad but she's limited to the English language. Poor Laura.
She told me she could possibly be over in Europe next semester and I told her that's a horrible idea. Our parents would absolutely freak out. They would also have way too much free time and probably take up weird hobbies. And if she's over here next semester, that doesn't give me an excuse to come BACK to Europe in two years. Geez Laura.
No. One Patterson in Europe at a time, or the continent may explode.

Alright, all. Some guy named Jan is going to make us all dinner. He's some guy Maryia knows and he's invited us to his house for dinner, so I'm all about that. Men cooking me food is always appreciated, especially if they're foreign.
Tschuess!

missing guacamole

2006-09-17T15:26:00.000-07:00

I should probably be in bed, but I have some tea here, The Doobie Brothers and some amazing chocolate. It's time for an update, eh?
This weekend was a whirlwind, but it gave me a chance to go out and do things on my own. We had absolutely no commitments or activities planned, so this was our first weekend to go run around and get ourselves into trouble. It was spectacular.
Friday night I somehow got convinced to attend "Poker Night" with Craig and his friends. This is Craig, my roommate, and not Craig, my ex-boyfriend. New Craig is awesome. He's a crazy Canadian mountain man who runs around saying ridiculous things and looks a lot like Bon Jovi. He has a yoga mat in his room and kind of dresses like a lumberjack. I asked him what his main sports are and he says ultimate frisbee and biathalon. Biathalon is, of course, cross-country skiiing and target shooting. I was made fun of for not knowing this.
He has, also, curled before. AND sawed down trees and stuff. Bwahahaha.
Anyway, "Poker Night" included me, Mallory, and Julia, so 3 Americans, 2 Australians, 2 French guys, 1 Columbian, 2 Italians, and 4 Canadians. We also had wine, beer, liquor, absinthe and a ton of candy on the table. We actually never got around to playing poker ever, and instead played Kings (a good old American drinking game) for most of the night. I talked to one of the Australians, Adam, for awhile about his travels. He spent 6 weeks in Thailand earlier this summer and is now here for a month just to study German. Bah I'm jealous. At least now I have a contact in Sydney. Always helps to add another continent to the list.
Eventually everyone went out to the bar to buy a meter of beer. (It's this long wooden device that holds drinks that are lined up for a meter, so you pay 20 Euro and share them) I, however, ended up at some party in my dorm with Stephanie and her roommate Daniel. Daniel and I had an intense German conversation about differences in our cultures. This all started because he asked about my Tiffanys bracelet and I had to do my best to explain without sounding like a silly, materialistic American. Not an easy task, let me tell you.
Saturday morning came much to early for me, but Maryia, Julia, Mallory and I all got on the 12:25 train to Emmerdingen which is a little town to the north-east of us, I believe. Our program director, Ulli lives there and had told us that there was a little festival going on this weekend. It was absolutely adorable and offered up a good chance to get away for a bit. Various people were running around in traditional Bavarian costumes and they were selling amazing German food. There were also little art booths all over the city and live music, so we wandered around for a few hours and enjoyed ourselves. I bought this amazing mug (Mom, it's even better than your San Fransisco one) and Mallory and Julia bought these carved jewelry boxes from Siberia. I have recently become a big fan of herbal tea so I needed a good mug to help keep up my new habit. And it's a wonderful traditional German mug. I am very happy with it.
After getting back into Freiburg I ran off to Innisfree, this amazing Irish pub, to talk to the boss about getting a job. The Irish pubs here only hire native English speakers to serve so that looks like it's gonna be my best bet. He told us that right now he already has 2 new American workers and he doesn't know if he's looking to hire anyone else, but I left him my number and a bunch of smiles. I think it helps that I have serving experience, so I hope to go tomorrow to some other pubs. I need to get a job, and quickly. Living here is not cheap.
So last night, Maryia's Ukranian roommate told her about some big event at a Russian disco. Maryia is quickly becoming one of my best friends here. She was raised in Russia but came over to the US to study German and International Relations at the U of Wisconsin. She's an American now because she got married and then divorced. She's awesome and it doesn't hurt to have a native Russian speaker in our crew. It only adds more culture.
Ok, anyway, back to her roommate. Katia or Katrin or something very Slavic sounding invited us all to this Russian disco. Hey. Why not? Not many of those back home.
Wow. What a night. Those Russians know how to have a party.
I must have danced for 4 hours with all kinds of Russians. Early in the night I made the mistake of telling one guy I was American and he literally ran away from me with a horrified look on his face. I don't know why...that was upsetting. So, instead I kept my mouth shut and danced. Dancing, laughing and smiling is universal. And I am a big fan of Russian techno, I think.
We got home around 5:30 after a long walk in heels. I also had to keep arguing with Katlin's boyfriend, Dennis (also Russian) about how not all Americans are God-obsessed. He's only encountered missionaries, so he's convinced we're all a bunch of religious fanatics. He was funny about it, though, and wasn't trying to be rude. But that just cracked me up. He's only going off of what he's seen, so it makes sense.
I also met some Polish hippies in a gas station. They got out of their VW-van, turned up the music, and started dancing around in circles and clapping. Most Americans, while fueling up their cars, sit patiently in the drivers seat and listen to NPR or something. But these hippies knew what they were doing. Carpe diem! Let's dance!
So, I danced around a gas station for a bit with some Polish hippies. They loved it. I also feel like someday, that will be a great story to tell my grandkids.
Ah, Europe. I am loving you.
Today, however, was a day for lazing around. I went to Stephanie's where we cooked a bunch of food and watched Love Actually. It's amazing how much I miss sitting on a couch and watching TV. A bunch of us curled up on the couch with blankets. We all agreed that some couch-time was needed and missed. I cried at the end of the movie because I am "such a girl" but mostly because I just miss my family. It's a heartwarming movie but a hard one to get through when all of your loved ones are thousands of miles away.
At least I have amazing friends here. I don't know what I'd do without that support structure.

I realize that was a ton of information to throw at all of you, but it gives some kind of example as to how many cultures are here. Freiburg is such a center for international students and I'm meeting people from all over the world. Yes, I'm mostly interacting with Germans, but I hear different languages everywhere I go. The guy at the ice cream store heard my accent and said "I speak 7 languages, so don't worry. Use English if you want."
It's frustrating to only have 1.5 languages down, but I'm learning so much every day. As Julia said, going to a Russian disco was like twice removing yourself from your native culture. We were in Germany, but inside a segment of yet another culture. I hope I'm getting my point across. It's just all about stretching your limits, I suppose.
My language course is going well, but I am in the process of planning my first big trip for sometime in the middle of October. Right now I'm thinking Prague-Vienna. But that could very well turn into Munich-Salzburg-Vienna-Prague-back to Vienna-Japan-Guam-Antarctica. Ok that last part I was only kidding, but I'm doing my best not to try and plan every little detail. I guess we're just going to buy some train tickets, get to some city, and go from there. I won't take anything expensive, will dress like a hobo, and am just going to go with the flow. Even if I'm in the middle of nowhere Czech Republic, I will do my best to make the most of it.

I am starting to really miss things from home, and knowing that I won't see them for months just makes me ache even more. I miss things like paper towel, ice, guacamole, ranch dressing, and Doritoes. Obviously, I miss my parents and my siblings most of all, but good guacamole is up there on the list. It may actually even be before Laura.
Alright, well over here, it is very late. And tomorrow I have to go back to school and find a job. This is only a vacation in so many ways.

Nyquil and jazz

2006-09-11T15:13:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in front of my open window, listening to the thunder and Ella Fitzgerald. The sky is filled with light and noise, but thus far I haven't seen any rain. Walking home I could feel the air shifting on the verge of a storm. Fall is sneaking in. I've started noticing fallen leaves at my feet and the air is getting crisper. I fear that fall will be the hardest season to get through, because fall in Michigan is by far one of my favorite things ever. Nothing beats going apple picking or to the cider mill with my family and I love sunny fall days when I'm completely comfortable getting around in a beat up pair of jeans and a wool sweater. Of course, how do I know that I won't love fall just as much in Freiburg? I have to be open-minded.
Today was frustrating but not altogether a bad day. I didn't sleep very well last night considering I kept waking up feeling like my head was about to explode. My voice has dropped a few octaves and I am never far from my Softis (<-German Kleenex) or my 1,5 Liter bottle of water. I feel like death, but hopefully it'll all be downhill from Day #1.
Julia has the same illness so we're wallowing together. Today at Subway we celebrated because we were able to share a drink. Yes, there is fast-food in Freiburg, unfortunately. McDonalds, Burger King and Subway have all descended on the city. I ordered a 15 cm sandwich which was mostly made of mayo. I don't know what's with Europeans and their sauce. With everything else they're fairly conservative, but this woman tried to empty the whole bottle onto my sandwich and then put the rest onto Julia's.
At 13 Uhr (2 PM) we ran over to the International House, where we have our language course for 3 weeks. I am in a class with none of my closest friends, which is probably a good thing. I'll meet new people. Monday-Friday for 3 weeks I have Silke for an hour and a half for Grammatik and Susanna for an hour and a half for Konversation. This is basically a crash course in the German language and what we'll need to survive in the University and meandering around Freiburg by ourselves. At this point, venturing out alone still scares the crap out of me. I worry that I'll find myself in some scary situation and won't be able to solve it with my limited German.
Julia, however, alerted me to the fact that I'm being ridiculous.
Julia - Wait...like what? What could happen?
Becca- Uh...I could get hit by a meteor and have to explain it?
Julia-...
Anyway, my classes seem pretty straightforward and it's nothing I can't handle. I must say, though, that I like Grammatik a lot more than Konversation. This conflicts with my outgoing personality, but agrees with the more secretive parts of me, I think. I love watching the words of a sentence click together and knowing why they belong in a certain place. I especially like seeing words laid out clearly in front of me, so I can see how they're spelled and exactly how they fit in with the other words. It's just more familiar, I guess.
But of course, actually opening your mouth and expressing yourself is crucial, as is learning an accent. I am horrible with pronouncing my z's, I've decided. Today I had a rough time with zelten - to camp and selten - rare.
Ok, enough about all that. After class we were invited over to a barbecue thrown by some international something or other. I feel horrible not knowing that, but it's something having to do with the Germans being glad that we are here. Hey. Great! Free food!
After stuffing ourselves, Stephanie and I went back to her dorm to do our homework and make brownies. We grumbled over our homework for awhile, much to the amusement of her roommate, Daniel. We asked him for help only when we absolutely needed it, but he was otherwise engrossed in the German version of 'Who Wants To Be a Millionaire?". Eventually his good friend, Johanne (I think...) came over. They plopped down on the couch with beers and cigarettes and taught us funny German phrases. When Steph started to make the brownies they were amazed. I guess they're not too common over here. Daniel asked "Are the brownies brown yet?" and cracked himself up.
I also got to take to Mommy for about 15 minutes which was wonderful, but it also made me sad. It's rough being sick thousands of miles from home. I'm missing so many of the things that comfort me, like my cat, cranberry tea, and clear sinuses. ARGGH.
One downside of Freiburg, which I thought about for a bit today, is that almost everything has graffiti on it. Most of it is nonsense and is perfectly harmless, but it's still unsettling. I attribute graffiti with deep, dark scary parts of Detroit, and have always thought that it indicates an unsafe area. Funny thing is, I'm probably far safer here than I'd be at home. In general, I think, Germans don't like leaving walls clean. All WGs in my dorm are covered in random posters, postcards and pictures. It's normal college humor, just like in the US, but they're definitely more plentiful and often in other languages. I don't mind, but I guess I'll just have to get used to grafitti.
Alright, I am going to go enjoy some Blutorange tea and curl up with my book. Johanne gave me some cold medicine because I've already gone straight through the limited supply I brought with me. Tomorrow I am going to attempt to locate my bicycle and my TV. Um...

accordion man

2006-09-10T14:27:00.000-07:00

Everyday here brings something new to discover. I have to say, after only spending a week in Germany I've learned so much more about the US than I thought I ever would. Kind of like learning French helped with my German. You have to be able to step out of something to see it more clearly.
I still haven't quite figured out how to do my laundry and it's causing way more stress than it should. Julia and I stood in the laundry detergent aisle of Neukauf for a good 10 minutes deciding. It was an important decision considering I have no idea how to measure out mililiters of liquid, and drying clothes here is a whole different story. All of the Germans have racks to dry their clothes. There was one sitting outside of my dorm today, completely unattended.
Also, nothing is open in Europe on Sundays. Maybe a cafe or two, but otherwise the city goes to sleep for a day, which I kind of enjoy. Obviously it's for religious reasons, but taking a break from consumerism for a day is kind of peaceful. It's nothing too complicated to get around. Just do your shopping on Saturday and enjoy nature on Sunday.
Today one of the guides, Kati and her boyfriend took a small group of us "Wanderung zum Schoenberg". So I dragged myself out of bed early and slapped on my hiking boots. Whoo. What a trip. That was the most intense hike I've ever been on, which really doesn't say much, but still. I feel accomplished. We basically walked in circles up a mountain, ate our lunch at the top, and then I stumbled the whole way down. We also found this old ruin of a castle which was built in the 1300's and then destroyed in 1574. See, you don't really find stuff like that in Michigan.
This morning, because I was running late, I basically stuffed an entire deli into my bag. Now everything smells of lunchmeat. And I got mustard all over. Figures. Hiking + sandwich supplies = not a good idea.
After coming back here and passing out at my kitchen table, I sat down and hung out with some of my roommates. Craig, from Edmonton (I think?) just moved in. He's working on his Masters but it just over here for 6 months doing a language course. He also has 11 years of French down, so he offered to help me. Christoph also told me that Serena is working on her PhD. She translates ancient Greek texts and is writing her dissertation.
....Well, I feel absolutely inferior.
Christoph also got very serious with me for a moment and told me that no one in our WG will ever make fun of me if I mess up my German. He said that everyone is always willing to help, which is already abundantly obvious to me. I love these roommates.
They do make fun of my Woerter des Tages Buch, however.
I bought a small black book to write down new words I learn everyday, which I happen to think is a brilliant idea and I've already had a few people copy me. Over the course of the day I whip it out and make up random sentences to make myself remember. I think the funny part to the Germans is that they are in no specific order and look really odd next to each other. Helicopter, hippo, 'to yawn' and cavity are in a row, I believe.
They also made fun of me when I accidentally said "I sneezed a cable car". I don't really blame them though.

Yesterday was a beautiful day, both figuratively and literally. I called up Stephanie and we went out to wander around the city. I think it made me fall in love with Freiburg even more. In front of the cathedral we found fresh fruit and flowers being sold, where Stephanie bought a sunflower and 2 pears. There were street artists everywhere, but totally unlike those in the US. There was a drum circle, a street marimba-ist (I have no idea how to spell that) and my favorite was the accordion player. He was obviously totally in love with the music, which is something I understand a lot myself. He played while seated, his eyes were closed and he also swayed passionately back and forth to the music. I never thought an accordion could sound so amazing.
We eventually met up with Jordan and went back to his dorm to make dinner. I've decided that I really love group dinners. It's cheaper, probably healthier, and food tastes better when you work on it with your friends. Jordan made two different kinds of steak and one kind of chicken. (He was just feeling creative, I guess) I made mashed potatoes from scratch. And Stephanie made an impressive salad. We also grabbed two bottles of red wine and invited another girl in the program, Alexa, to eat with us.
None of us have family here, so we're doing the best we can. And it really does feel cozy.

Ah in the past few hours I believe I have developed a nasty head cold. I can hear my father's voice right now "Have you been taking care of yourself? ARE YOU GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP?" Well, au contrer, mon pere. I think I am actually sick because my body is in shock. Too much healthy food, exercise, and fresh air. And it's probably not used to all this amazing food. I'm getting into the habit of buying my food fresh daily, which feels a lot more natural. Food here isn't pumped full of preservatives and it's also a lot cheaper. I'm not really a big fan of milk but I tried some today and I actually savored a glass of milk. It was wonderful.

Maybe studying abroad is like being a little kid. I feel as if I'm experiencing everything for the first time again. Things like doing laundry and separating out my trash are confusing to me. I am struggling to learn the language and fit in with the others around me. And I miss those who were closest to me initially. 5 years ago I wouldn't have been able to live without my friends, and although I do miss my friends, it's my closest family members that I think about most often. Guess I came full circle. In many ways I feel like a toddler who just got thrown into day care and even though I have people watching out for me, I have to make my own mistakes and figure out all kinds of new rules. Of course, in daycare I used to bite people and one time I drew blood. Maybe this time around I'll do better in a different environment.
Tomorrow I begin my language course. So tomorrow, I go back to school. And, since I am the only person awake in my WG, and I'm sick, maybe it's time for bed.

1 week down. 47 to go.

basil and chives

2006-09-07T15:28:00.000-07:00

Alright, I hadn't planned on updating tonight, but seeing as I just read an e-mail from my Aunt Shirley about how she checked my blog 50 times a day, I will do so for her.
I just wrote a gigantic e-mail to my parents so I'm a little tired of typing. It's also about 12:30 AM here (or 00:23, to be more precise). I believe I am the first person in my entire program to actually get their Internet to work, so I have been rejoicing. Tomorrow our whole group is going on a day trip to Schauinsland up to the summit. If it's clear, we'll be able to see all the way to the Alps. So, I need to get up early for that, but I'm not yet tired.
Freiburg is breathtaking. It's the perfect European city to study abroad in and I am absolutely elated that I get to be here for 11 months. I've already begun talking with my peers about how difficult it will be to leave this place. The past few days have been a whirlwind of information, tours and excursions. I've already successfully opened my bank account, signed my lease, gotten my health and travel insurance arranged, and signed my city permit. As of yesterday, I am now an official citizen of Freiburg.
Today was also our placement test, which will determine which level classes we will be taking for the next 3 weeks. After the test, a group of us went to Neukauf and bought onions, peppers, wurst, and spaghetti. We all headed back to my place and feasted, all to the sounds of an impressive thunderstorm. Even though, at this point, we are all hanging out with Americans, we are doing our best to speak as much German as we can. We made our best attempt at German Outburst, which was an interesting endeavor. I think my roommates think I'm crazy. I'm the crazy, young American girl who's always listening to hip-hop music and taking long showers.
My roommates are - Christoph, Maxi, Jans, Serena, and I think another Christof. He's in Prague or something....and Jans may have moved out today. I saw him mopping? Anyway, they are all German and they are all wonderfully kind and helpful. I have a nice spacious room to myself with a big window. I'm doing my best to make it cozy but seeing as everything I buy I have to lug back to my room in 27 degree weather, it stinks to buy stuff. See? I used CELCIUS. For all of you Americans, that's about 80 degrees. Bahaha.
Our kitchen is so cute. By cute I mean endearing and smaller than what I am used to. The bathroom is roughly the size of a matchbox, but I'm slowly getting used to it. We have basil and chives growing right in our kitchen. Serena is "die Kochmeisterin" (I'm almost positive I made up that word) meaning she's an amazing cook. Our WG (Wohngemeinschaft - living community) always smells good. Most German university students are in their mid-20's. They are in school a year longer than Americans are, and in Germany it's more popular to take some time off before going to University. Christoph told me that I am a "young chicken". I woke up at 1 this afternoon and went in the kitchen and ate jam right out of the jar. My hair was also all askew and I was mumbling in German with him. Poor German roommates. They don't know what they got themselves into.
My program is amazing. I am so, so thankful that I've been given this opportunity, and pretty damn proud of myself for taking advantage of it. Sure, every so often I get pangs of homesickness, but it's only a year. Every so often it hits me that I am actually living in Europe. I am no tourist. When I pull out my map and complain loudly in English, maybe I look like it. But no! Hallelujah!
To recap, I am here and I love it. But for now, I must go read and then curl up in my new Ikea sheets. From this point on, as long as I don't break my computer, my updates will hopefully provide some insight into how life as a German study abroad student goes.
Tschuess!

goodbye

2006-08-31T20:14:00.000-07:00

In 24 hours, I will be on a plane, high above the Atlantic, zooming along the curve of the earth toward my new home.
For some reason, this isn't really hitting me as hard as I thought it would. Maybe I'm still in shock. Maybe this will all hit me on the plane.
I thought I would be bursting with insightful words and thoughts about my last night in America, but I'm just incredibly tired. Putting my feelings into words, at this point, wouldn't really achieve anything. And anyway, I don't want to try and recapture it. I just want to let it be. These feelings are good.
Today was spent running amok arranging things before I leave. I spent way more money than I should have, but eh, it'll end up ok. I hope I can get a job over there quickly, but only after I figure out my way around the city. Finally, after Best Buy did nothing in time, Mom, Earl and I had to go in tonight and pick out a brand new one. I am now the proud owner of a glistening Toshiba laptop, with duel processors and a 15.4" screen. This is not your basic cheap computer. Oh no. She's a beauty, and I intend to treat her far, far better than anyone expects of me.
Before we went along our way, Mom hunted down the GM of Best Buy and gave him a speech about how she's buying this laptop in good faith that the company will reimburse her for part of it, as they did take my laptop hostage for 3 months. Go Mom. You scare those computer geeks.
But now, I am relieved. Hallelujah.
Last night I went over to eat with the Grandparents, and I brought Craig with me. We had a wonderful meal out on the porch and Craig and I went for a post-dinner canoe ride. It was so peaceful and relaxed with the sun setting...mmm.
Craig and I cuddled all night on the couch, til I kicked him out because he had to work at 5:30 this morning. I am going to miss him a lot, but the time will fly by. All too soon, I'll be sappy about leaving Freiburg. Ah. I'm sure I'll be a mess.
After going to Best Buy, we went out to dinner at J. Alexanders, per my request. I had Norwegian salmon, smashed potatoes and about 60 Cokes.
I really got spoiled today. Sheesh.
Then we stopped by my dad's to say goodbye to my step-mom, Karyn.
(Did I mention that her name is spelled Karyn? Gee. That's a great name. Karyn. Lovely name.)
I'll see Jimmy and Dad tomorrow, but I had to get some step-mommy hugs before taking off. Jimmy was running around in his football pads. Apparently, I know nothing about tackling people. I figure this is a good thing.
All these goodbyes are depressing me. Bah.
Now, I am desperately trying to make the 2 suitcase idea work. I think I can manage it, with some strategic packing.
Alright, I think I've run out of things to say. Maybe I'll go get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be one hell of a day.
Next entry from the Vaterland.

delicious

2006-08-29T20:36:00.000-07:00

Today, while sprawled out in the Literature section of Borders, I realized some things about writers. Most everyone, at least in Western society, has the opportunity to write. If one is fortunate enough to be literate and has access to a pen and paper, then they're also able to give their thoughts and ideas a physical form. Billions of humans have walked this earth, and continue to every day, but so few have taken advantage of language. Granted, I believe people are born writers and cannot easily become them. Passion is the most important ingredient, in my opinion, and you can't very well wake up one day saying "Gee! I'm passionate!". But why then, are so few people given that intense yearning to communicate? I have such a great respect for words. They have outlasted most everything else having to do with humanity. But the value of language is declining rapidly, and computers are only speeding up the process. Older literature and newspapers show us what a common vocabulary used to be, and what have we got now? Sludge. Upper-level grammar isn't even taught anymore.
So, in addition to thinking about how few people even care enough to pay attention to the English language anymore, I also thought about how pretentious this also makes writers. I would be interested to see how much writing is kept private compared to how much is meant to be read by others. Perhaps someday I'll have tea with God and get to ask her, but until then, I'll just have to wonder. Private writing is by far one of the best things a person can do for themself. I am a firm believer in keeping a journal, and have been since I was old enough to know what a journal was. Being able to vent out your thoughts to a captive page is the best therapy available, and it's much cheaper. And of course, going back and reading previous entries gives you something that actually helps prove how much you've grown. But keeping a journal doesn't make someone terribly pretentious. It's the writing for another audience that does. Given the fact that we are all able to write, why do some feel that their words are important enough to seen and studied by others? All forms of writing contain bias, whether they be legal briefs or romance novels. It's impossible to separate the author from the work, or vice versa. And given this, writing is a scary business. It's letting others a bit into your own head, which is a bit conceited because it's assuming others care enough to see, but it also sets you up for criticism.
I realized, while sitting there in a pile of words, that I may be part of a dying breed. Writers are rare enough, but their art is quickly being taken over by technology. Several times people have suggested that I keep my journals on the computer and keep them password protected. The thought horrifies me. Words are at their best when they are given weight, facing you from a page. Seeing the innermost workings of my mind looking at me from an alien computer screen would be horrid.
I hope people continue to write by hand for centuries. It's one of the most amazing gifts we, as humans, have been given. And even though it is pretentious, it is necessary. Without collections of words, how would we get our history? Mankind wouldn't do very well without a past.

Anyway, those were just a few thoughts I had while making my last trip to my very favorite American store. I picked up The Book of Salt, The World According to Garp, Cat's Cradle, and Frannie and Zooey. Books are probably the most impractical thing to take to Europe with me, but they're also the most necessary. Those'll last me about a month, and then I'll be on amazon.de. There is an entire section for English Books. Oh hallelujah.
Today was a nice day to myself. I ran errands and sped around town in the Mariner. My mom called me to tell me Warren Jeffs, a Mormon Fundamentalist leader, finally got caught by the cops. He's been on the FBI's Top 10 for awhile for marrying off underage girls to old men. Oh, those crazy Mormons. I am hooked. I want to visit him in jail.
Anyway, my adventures included the bank, Target, Running Fit, Borders, and finally the hair salon. I cut off a bit of my hair so as to make it look less mullet-ish. I told her I want to grow it out, so she just layered and tossed and did a lot of stuff I didn't understand. Whatever. It looks good.
I also managed to drop my phone in the toilet at Target. Don't ask me how I did it. I couldn't tell you. But it was for sure a Becca thing to do. Now, only the 1 key will work.
Electronics hate me, I tell you. Thankfully, I have 3 days left in this country, and I get a brand new one over in Germany. That one will never go near a toilet.
Liquids and all of my electronics shall never meet, I say!
Ok I am meeting Amanda tomorrow in Ann Arbor at my very favorite restaurant, Sadako. I will order the U of M roll and the Philadelphia roll, and I will officially say goodbye to Ann Arbor. I will go out with a bang, which means raw fish and sorority girls. Afterward, Craig, Mom and I are eating dinner with my grandparents. I asked Grandma for Hawaiian chicken, which is AMAZING. I had to use caps. It's that delicious. Tomorrow is going to be a delicious day.
Speaking of delicious, yesterday I want to Daddy's for dinner. First, Jimmy and I lay around on the couch for awhile, lamenting our boredome. He's beginning football soon. So, my father has one daughter moving to Germany, another on the verge of mental collapse and a son about to start the most dangerous sport ever. He's kind of on edge. I don't blame him. Laura's off melting down every 5 seconds and Jimmy's probably going to run smack into the goalpost.
I made cupcakes, which was impulsive, but amazing. Karen came home to the smell of onions sauteeing and cupcakes in the oven. Olfactory overload.
(Wow I can't believe I just actually made that sentence)
Craig also joined us for amazing and healthy chili. I don't know how he does it, but my father is a Wizard of Healthfood. Afterward, we all enjoyed my funfetti cupcakes (not so healthy) and an intense game of Clue. I won, only after Jimmy and Craig guessed incorrectly. So, basically I only won because they were overeager. Boys...
I'm really gonna need to learn to cook. Yikes.
Ok I had best get to bed. Tomorrow will include a lot of driving and goodbyes.

Notausgang

2006-08-27T20:59:00.000-07:00

Great. I'm moving out of the country on Friday, and my sister just informed me that she's holding my passport hostage. I am never going to get the $6 she owes me.
To provide a visual, I am holed up in my basement in wrinkled clothes. My hair is askew, none of my clothes really match, and I'm listening to Abba. I want today to end.
Last night I had horrible dreams about alien attacks. These aliens actually looked like a pomegranates cut in half with legs, and they were telepathic and mean. I woke up around 11, sprawled out on the couch with my mom, talked online with various Freiburgers about packing, didn't really move until 5:30 when I realized that maybe I still could make something of the day. I didn't really want to have anything to do with anyone today, which I see as an unhealthy side-effect of my suddenly becoming introverted this summer.
Ignoring humanity pissed my dad off, which just made things worse. Eventually the day was saved by a trip up to East Lansing to drop off my sister. We all went out to eat at some Meditteranean place and then my mom and I sang Billy Joel the whole way home.

I'm conflicted. I want to live up this week and cherish every moment, but at the same time I just want so badly to get out of here and get this move over with. I know so little about what life will be like over there next year. Such things like my dorm, my classes, and my roommates are all still a mystery to me. I knew all of those things going into U of M. I'm just incredibly frustrated, I guess. I know so little and I can only do so much to prepare.
I'm most worried about missing my family. Everything else is more or less taken care of, but how do you prepare to not see your mother for 7 months? It makes my head spin.

My going away party was on Saturday, which was very generously thrown by my mom and Earl, her boyfriend. We bought a bunch of bratwurst and German chocolate cakes and played German beer hall music. My grandpa translated: Beer here! Beer here! Or I'll fall over!
...um
It also gave my mother an opportunity to actually learn the colors of the German flag. Originally, we were going to have just orange, yellow and black balloons. Red was ordered at the last second. I was appalled and am now concerned that they won't even let her in the country to visit me.
Lots of friends and family members came, which made me feel very loved. My sister, Molly, and Brian each paid $100 to fly out one of my best friends, Nate, from Massachusetts for the affair. This was originally meant to be a surprise, but I ruined it for myself.
OH WELL. Doesn't mean it was worth less. Still one of my best presents I've ever gotten. Nate and I got to cuddle all night, play Clue, and talk about life. Laura and Allison sang a duet from Marriage of Figaro. Nate sang the fight song for Worchester Polytechnic Institute. The Pipers did "Java Jive". My grandpa kept running around saying random things in German.
I love our parties. They are so classic.

Last night also made me realize that my true friends I can count on one hand. And by true friends I mean the people who can predict me, value me and really love me for all of my flaws.
I am going to miss you crazy, crazy people.
Tonight while helping move my sister in, I took one of the boxes, put it over my head, and started walking around like a robot. I don't think Germany knows what's on the way. Seeing as they don't believe in laughter or fun or loud things, I'm kind of screwed.
I also recently read that GARBAGE DISPOSALS ARE ILLEGAL. WHAT IS THAT????
This morning I also decided to start working on my coffee addiction. I'm not touching cigarettes ever, so I need one addiction to fit in.
Oh, and I also conveniently gave Stephanie the wrong directions to get to my party. She called me when she was about 45 minutes out of her way. So, now I've pissed off the girl I'm flying with, and she'll probably ditch me in London. I'll end up on a flight to Thailand all because I don't know west from east, apparently. Eventually she got here, but I felt horrible.
Maybe I should have kept that cardboard box over my head...
I had best go end this day with some Kerouac and decaf tea. Happier entries are on the way, once I get myself out of limbo.

material things

2006-08-24T13:27:00.000-07:00

I am determined not to let Best Buy ruin my last few days here.
Laura and I drove out to Ann Arbor yesterday to pick up my computer, which, after 6 weeks, was supposedly all fixed and practically brand new. Bring it home and I put in a CD to play it. The computer doesn't read the CD...at all...which was the original problem all along
Basically, they are idiots. So, last night, after many tears and angry words, my father and I went in to the Best Buy here to make it clear how dire the situation is. After talking to about 30 different managers, they told us that if something needs to be shipped out a 4th time, then we're entitled to a new computer. SO they're shipping it out, seeing that it is in fact STILL broken, and we get to go in next week and I get a brand new computer, all because they were too negligent to fix a simple DVD drive.
All I'm saying is they better stick to their word. I need a computer in Germany and I need one that I can trust. I also need my music on it. I did not buy a brand new Ipod just to look at it.
No more shopping at Best Buy. They have lost my trust.

Home is stressing me out, mostly because of this computer fiasco, but also because my room looks like a bomb went off in it. I have a pile for things to give away, things to leave home, things to maybe take, things to definitely take, etc. I haven't even touched a suitcase yet. Skit also keeps conveniently falling asleep in piles of my stuff.
Skittles Edmund is my crazy cat. When he was young and agile he used to love climbing up to tall places, where he'd often get stuck. So I named him after Sir Edmund Hilary, the first man to climb Everest. Since then, he's given up on climbing and instead likes to sleep. Skittles, I'll admit, is a horrible name for a 21 pound tomcat, but he has grown into his name nicely. He's scared of everything and is immensely overweight, but that just means there's more of him to love. He loves classical music and shoes, so we're all convinced he's secretly gay. He also enjoys laying in sunshine, chasing after imaginary things, and getting brushed.
His sister, Cleo, belongs to Laura, meine Schwester. Even though unusually intelligent, Cleo hates everyone. Occasionally she'll be cuddly and loving, but only for our family. Any outsiders risk losing limbs when they step into our house. When not feasting on small children, Cleo loves watching the chipmunks, growling, and eating people food. She loves sweet things especially, like the brownies I made the other night. As my mom says, she has a "sweet-fang". She also will meow at the bathtub tap for a trickle of water, which is known as "watering Cleo".
Those are my cats. They are spoiled little brats, but we've made them that way. I'm going to miss them bunches.
Talking about my cats just cheered me up immensely.

Earlier, I went through all my old pictures. These babies dated back to 7th grade and were all jumbled up in a big pile. I must have had hundreds from summer camp, choir trips, and various musicals I did in high school. I kept about 20 of them and tossed the rest. It was hard letting go of all of that, but I've got so much crap. Last night I also went through my entire wardrobe and filled up three big boxes with clothes to get rid of, most of them name brand frilly junk. I also went to Old Navy and bought a bunch of layering tees, which will be good for traveling.
Now I just want to put on all my hiking gear and go run around the neighborhood for kicks.

Next week will include major family bonding time, a haircut, and all things American. Wahoo.
My mind is on overdrive, like my senses are trying to memorize everything so I don't forget it all over 11 months. The way Ann Arbor looks when the sun sets, my sister's laugh, how my father smells, how it feels to cuddle Skit, what it's like to wake up to my mother playing the piano...
It's a lot to take in, but it just makes me realize all the small things I've got to appreciate.

Time to go to Costco avec ma mere.

becoming introverted

2006-08-21T19:48:00.000-07:00

I officially moved out of Ann Arbor today, which made my heart ache. Empty houses depress me so. I walk around them, a thousand memories rush in, and I get so depressed realizing I will never be able to recreate that equation again. Too many factors are involved. Time catches you off guard and then you're entirely unable to see a person on the same level you once used to. But it's obviously useless trying to hold on to something that's time has passed. I enjoyed my time with Julia and Sarah immensely, but I doubt we will ever be as close as we were these past 3 months. I'm horrible at goodbyes.
This summer I thought a lot about why college kids are starting to annoy me so much. Most of my theories were horribly depressing and probably wrong, but then again I am a student of Philosophy, which is the study of theories that have been disproved. Anyhow...
I feel like in many ways college is like running away from the real world, and you only accelerate as you go. Yes, you do only have 4 short years before you're out in that terrifying "real world", but what is so horrible about supporting yourself and not getting hammered every night? I honestly believe that by paying for my own education I will eventually take more from it. Now, that very well could only be because I didn't have the option, but I'll take what I've been given. This summer my parents gave me the choice. I could come home and live here for free, or I could stay in AA if I paid my way. Maybe my choice wasn't the most economically advantageous, but I feel like overall it was the better way to go. Taking care of myself gives me such a good, honest high. I plan on enjoying my college years, and then enjoying my job once I get it. I will appreciate the moment I am in.
This summer I watched my co-workers work, bring home good money, and then go blow it all at the bar. Repeat. Now, I enjoyed the people I worked with, and I made many good friends, but I just don't understand that. Sure, going out once in awhile is fun, but why is it necessary to go out every night and get hammered? That was also the #1 reason people told me to stay in Ann Arbor over the summer. "Yea dude! You can get plastered every night!"
Um...I'll pass. I'll work and save so I can travel around Europe, while you frequent the same dirty bar every weekend.
Also, the older you get, the drinking increases, until suddenly you're graduating. And then you become horribly depressed because you can't bar hop every night. And then you're stuck in the real world, which is usually very sober. Aw shucks.
It just seems like such a vicious cycle. I'm not gonna say I'm completely done with "college rituals", but this summer kind of opened my eyes. It's easy to get sucked in.
NO MORE PEER PRESSURE.

Ok, and now we continue on to the more lighthearted half of this crazy entry.
Today was my last day of work, which meant closing a manic lunch shift. I actually let my last table know that they were my last table of the summer. A woman and her teenage daughter humored me and asked all about Freiburg. I filled Diet Cokes and obliged happily. I'll miss random conversations with strangers.
I left with $90 and a free lunch for my last day. I really do enjoy that job, and it was a lucky one to come by. Hopefully it'll still be waiting for me when I return.
After work Craig and I went over to my house to clear out my fridge and leave my key. Yesterday the whole family came to load out all of my crap and I stayed to work my final shifts. Craig and I drove out of North Campus, away from the setting sun and blasting Radiohead's "Optimistic".
Perfect.
Now I am safely home. The garage is littered with everything I own, my cat is making me sneeze, and my mother is already pestering me to remember to turn off the basement lights. My sister's best friend also commented on how the last 4 times she's seen me, I've been wearing the same jean skirt.
I already know I'll be wearing it for the 5th time she sees me.
I basically have a week to prepare myself for this gigantic escapade. Most of this preparation is emotional, but fitting my life into 2 suitcases and a backpack will be interesting.
It's funny thinking about how having more things at this point, is bad. It's like the perfect antidote to materialism. Moving to Europe is going to do wonders for me. I can feel it.

Jetzt gehe ich ins Bett.

perchance to dream

2006-08-17T07:44:00.000-07:00

Here I am again, mooching off the university computers. I stopped by to see my friend Henry, one of the computer consultants in here. He spends most of his time telling people how to print double sided and pointing them toward the stapler. Ah. My peers are so bright.
My own computer, hopefully, will be back to me by Monday. The Best Buy Team of Deception tells us that they had to keep repairing things because there was "water damage". Psha! False!
Whatever. If they give me back a computer and there is a working CD player, I will sing praises and stop whining. I am sure they, too, will be glad to be rid of this. The British Airways website also now says that laptops and small electronics are allowed on flights. All is well with the universe again.
These past few days have been stressful. In retrospect, it was mostly unnecessary, but not much can be done about it now. On Tuesday one of my first tables walked out without paying their $40 bill. There was a mix-up and I sincerely doubt it was done on purpose, but it did enough to put me in a foul mood. About an hour after that, I sent a big tray of 3 entree salads flying across the restaurant. Oh, I didn't simply drop them. I'm pretty sure I would up and catapulted them. I don't even know how that was possible, but I was suddenly in a pile of lettuce with tears forming in my eyes. After that I melted down a bit over in the sidestands, which was for a lot of reasons. Even I wouldn't cry over spilled lettuce. My coworkers comforted me, and my boss assured me that I was still one of his favorites, even though I'm so clumsy. My tables were also understanding and patient. The rest of the night wasn't as eventful, thankfully, and eventually I only had to pay for half of that bill.
After walking home from work, I had a turbulent conversation with my dad, which led to more tears. I was filled with tears that night, I think.
I realize that my parents are stressed out about me putting an ocean between us, but I'm kind of in a bind. If I kick and scream and talk about how I'm scared , my parents will only worry that I'm not mature enough to handle this move. But if I'm strong and ready to get the hell out of here, I'm afraid they'll take it personally. I told my dad about how I'm planning to stay in Europe for Christmas, which I guess he didn't know about. I've got two sets of parents struggling to find the money to visit me next year, so why would I come home for Christmas, where I can be jet-lagged and only get to stick around for 2 weeks? Obviously 4 months from now I will be dying to come home, especially during Christmastime. But how often do parents get to travel over to Europe and see their children living and thriving there? (Well, I'm assuming I'll thrive) I want to share that with them, rather than eating up all that money to come home and pass out face-first on the couch for a week. And I know they'd love to come and tromp around a bit with me. I realize they're going to miss me, and that is of course a good thing.
Obviously, I'm most worried about missing my immediate family, but this is just something I need to do. I need to break myself off and force myself to figure life out on my own. Throughout the years, I have been very thankful for my parents' help, but all too soon I'm going to be out there on my own. I don't want to completely crash and burn once they're not around to pull me out of the messes I make. This program feels like a good halfway. So many things are already organized for me, but I do have a lot more independence than I would in Ann Arbor. I am apprehensive, but in a healthy way. I am not ungrateful for the millions of things my parents have sacrificed for me. Instead, I would hope they look at this as my attempt to show them how well they have taught me to manage myself.
And, anyway, if they weren't worried about me, I would be concerned. I'm not one to put my parents at ease. I can't have it both ways.

Lately I've been having nightmares. Most of them involve me lost and alone in some European city, without an money or anywhere to go. Others involve similar themes, such as loss of control or intense feelings of helplessness. All of this somehow relates back to Freiburg. There's so much I can't do here to prepare, but once I get there I fear I'll remember a thousand things I should have done.
Sleep is supposed to be my one safe haven from stress. How dare you thoughts plague me so!

Alright I suppose I have ranted on enough. My list of Freiburg Prep continues to expand by the minute, and I'm hungry.

jumping jacks over the Atlantic

2006-08-14T16:28:00.000-07:00

For some sub-conscious reason, I am running around "setting my affairs in order" before I leave. I feel like I have some terminal disease and need to clear things up before I'm off. Also, there seems to be a neverending amount of things to do, but instead of being productive, I simply get overwhelmed and decide to do nothing but sit on my couch and watch old episodes of Entourage and eat melon pops.
All I've done all summer is work. Now, I don't mind work, and I've felt better about this summer because I'm paying for the roof over my head, gas for my car, books about Mormons and I've been able to satisfy my raging sushi addiction. But I'm one of those crazy people that actually likes learning new things. If I could, I'd be in school forever, getting every Liberal Arts degree possible. I think overall I will feel better, and be more sane, when I'm taking classes and writing papers.
But this year, those papers get to be 30 pages long and in German. Ok I'm not going to think about that yet.
The above comment about Mormons refers to my fascination with them this summer. I've read several very informative books and watched Season 1 of Big Love in a fury. Mormon Fundamentalists are my favorite. They are amazing and horrifying. If any MF are reading this, I don't mean to offend you. But chances are you aren't allowed to touch a "COMPUTER OF SATAN" and you're off busy trying to manage your 7 wives.

The other night I went out and got sushi with my old boyfriend, David, whom I dated when I was in high school. I wish I had something profound and deeply insightful to say about that, but it was a fairly straight-forward date. He's still as perfect as he ever was, and I'm still not attracted to that for some reason. Lately he's been going through a "Why am I here?" phase, which I think is a trend in your early 20's. I'm looking forward to my time searching for God. Oy.
We ate at Sadako, got Stuccis, and then traipsed around campus for a bit. I gave him the tour and got a kick out of watching him react to all the Ann Arbor characters that were running amok on a Saturday night. None of them phase me anymore, so it's funny watching a normal reaction.
"Why is that guy riding around on his bike with an orange cone on his head?"
"What? Oh...I didn't even notice"
I told him that if he really wants to find God, he should sell his BMW 330 and donate all of that to starving children in Africa.
It was good to see him. I wish he still didn't have feelings for me. And I wish I hadn't left my Philadelphia rolls in his trunk.
Dinner #2 down. Now I need to find a new victim...

Stephanie is IMing me, telling me that as of right now, all flights out of London are only allowed a clear plastic bag containing nothing electronic. And seeing as our connecting flights don't leave us enough time to check luggage once we're at Heathrow...I DON'T GET MY IPOD WITH ME FOR 20 HOURS OR SO OF TRAVELING.
This is very bad. I'm already worried about getting claustrophobic, but you can always heal that with a few jumping-jacks over by the bathrooms. Now I have to worry about terrorists, I don't get an Ipod or a water bottle, and now I have to find the perfect book to satisfy me for an entire day. Usually I'm reading about 8 books at once and I work through them depending on my mood swings. This will be horribly limiting and headache inducing.
Maybe I'll just bring Ulysses and sleeping pills and knock myself out.

And now, I am going to go vent to my innocent boyfriend about airport security and my lack of computer.

the dangers of Gatorade

2006-08-11T12:55:00.000-07:00

At times, I am so ready to just get the hell out of here.
Last night was not one of them.
A few days ago Julia (one of my roommates) told me she was planning to have people from her work come over. Julia, Sarah and I are all slaves to the restaurant industry, so living with each other works out well because we can all complain to each other. I also have a weak spot for stealing Sarah's clothes, but she ate all my peanut butter, so I don't feel too bad.
Anyway, I'm always one to partake in a party. So I did my best to help Julia out, called up a few people, did some requisite freaking out, and fell down in the shower. At our last "get-together" my phone got stolen, which ended in a lot of tears. Why would anyone want to steal one of my electronics? They are cursed. The cops eventually found it in a car they impounded, so that was a lucky break. It's also kind of refreshing to be out of contact with the world, but given the way people my age do things, tres difficile. Needless to say, last night I was watching my things like a hawk.
I spent the majority of the night with Molly, Seth, and Craig. To clarify...
Molly- Best friend from high school who now goes to Michigan State.
Seth- Former crush from high school, now is just a really good friend.
Craig - Boyfriend
We hung out on the porch, made fun of each other, and ate ridiculous amounts of my chips and Goldfish. It was a nice, laid-back summer night with some of my favorite people, which I found blissful. Michael Jackson "The Way You Make Me Feel" came on at one point, too. I don't care how creepy that man is. He can add to any social gathering. Watching Seth dance may have made the night for me. Or Bill Withers "Use Me" being played on repeat.
I guess it just alerted me more to the fact that, yes, I am leaving something good. Not necessarily for something better, either, but something different. Maybe that's what a lot of people don't understand. If you find something good, why leave it?
I guess it's just because I've been blessed enough to have options.
And yes, different. But not so different from here. I am going from one upper middle-class life to another, and I will be well cared for. And the things that I love the most (that aren't tangible and breathing) are universal.

Yesterday, Stephanie and I went out to get some Panera turkey sandwiches and talk logistics. Stephanie will be the poor soul who gets to travel with me to Germany. To be more specific, we are taking a flight to London, a flight to Switzerland, and then a bus into Freiburg. By the time we get into Freiburg, I'll need someone to scrape me off the seat and point me toward my dorm. Oh lucky girl.
But wait...hold on...LONDON????? FLYING INTO LONDON???
Now, I don't want to be one of the many, many Americans who is scared of their own shadows thanks to all the propaganda thrown around these days. But, I'm not really that thrilled about being blown up with a something that partially made out of Gatorade. No thanks. I don't even like sports drinks.
Stephanie asked me if I wanted to look for a flight that doesn't fly into London, but I have faith in American security, especially now that we're on level red smokin' hot or something. Most people in our program are flying into Frankfurt and are taking a train down. But not us. We had to torture some travel agent and find an obscure alternate route.
All I have to say is, I'd better be able to bring my Ipod on the plane, dammit.

Alright, since I got 6 hours of sleep, instead of my required 15, it is nap time. Work was amusing, although not very fruitful. I get to go back in again at 7. Oh Joy.

restaurant etiquette and maturing

2006-08-09T10:21:00.000-07:00

I have stolen Sarah's computer, so this entry may have to end abruptly when she gets back. My own computer has been being "fixed" by Best Buy for about 2 months now. They've basically screwed up and treated us poorly for the entire summer, so my parents are preparing to rain down hell-fire on them, write nasty letters to corporate offices, etc. I'm not too concerned, considering I know better than anyone what it's like to piss my dad off. I'm just worried about getting my computer back in time to prepare it for Deutschland, which includes uploading 400+ CDs. I'm cursed when it comes to electronics. At this point my car and cell phone are also broken, but that doesn't worry me so much. I get to fly far, far away from them soon enough.

I have today off of work and am struggling to find something productive to do with my time. This summer I have been living in Ann Arbor serving at The Original Cottage Inn, working 35 hours a week or so. It's a nice mid-level restaurant. Not too fancy, but not too cheap. Just right, I'd say. And now I sound like I'm telling a children's fairy tale. Anyway, you can show up in jeans and order a couple pitchers of beer, or you can head there for a hot date and get the NY Strip and get a few cocktails. I really love working there, mostly because of the people I work with. It's good money, the time goes by quickly, and we always seem to have fun. When you mix overly-flirtatious Mexican cooks with beer-drenched college students and add in a crazy Greek boss, the outcome has to be fun. (I have no idea if I'm using those hyphens correctly. You get the point)
I've found that serving, aside from being good money, teaches you a lot about people, and how to keep your cool when you feel like you're about to die. I, after having won my high school's mock election for Most Dramatic, have come to terms with my drama queen-ness. When I started serving, everyone was sure someone would get some food in the face when I got angry. No no, my friends, it has worked out well, and maybe I've simmered down some thanks to my summers slaving over people. Sure, people piss you off a lot, but I feel like the majority are empathetic to servers. Anyone I've ever known who has worked in a restaurant is a wonderful tipper, because they can read into the signs. "Oh gee look at her running around like a crazy person. I'll understand if my lasagna takes a little longer than necessary." And now, for any of you that care to listen to my ranting...

THINGS NOT TO DO IN A RESTAURANT
1) Ask for waters for the whole table, when you're the only one who will be drinking water. Especially if it's a big table. It makes the tray twice as heavy, and doubles the chance that she will drop one of those unnecessary waters in your lap. So, it's your choice if you wanna look like you pissed yourself. You probably deserve it.
2) Ask your runners to get you things. Runners are the people who AREN'T your server who bring out your food. They are paid to run the food out, run back to the kitchen, repeat. They are NOT being paid to get you refills, or get you extra ketchup, or get you a new Ferrari. (Some guy asked me that the other day) If your server is any good at their job, you shouldn't have to ask and they should be at your table to check on you within minutes of you getting your food. Let the runner get back to the kitchen and get a chance to run out everyone's food. That's why they're getting paid.
3)Sit around for hours before you decide to look at the bill. We refer to these people as squatters or say that they're camping, and they are super obnoxious. If the restaurant isn't busy, there's a good chance your poor waitress can't go home until you decide to pay that bill. There are hundreds of other places you can go to blab with your friends.
4)Blame your server if you realize it is something out of her control. Don't punish them because you don't like how something tastes, where you're sitting, the weather, your mother-in-law...anything that they can't do anything about. If it takes hours to get a refill or the bill, then yes, that is their problem. But please be aware of what is expected of them. A restaurant is all about team work and sometimes certain parts of that chain are lacking. Just let her know and she can run back in the kitchen and chase someone around with a soup ladle if need be.
5) Tip well. It won't kill you to throw in a few extra dollars.

Ok those are just a few I came up with off the top of my head. Leaving CI is going to make me sad, but hopefully I can get a good job in Freiburg. Considering all the traveling I plan on doing, I'll need to be bringing in some good money. Oy.
My fingers are stained a deep red because I ate about a billion cherries last night. My boyfriend, Craig, threw some at me and I finished off the bag. Healthy and delicious. I just kept going. Now I look like I killed someone with my fingertips.

Sunday night my step-dad, whom I haven't seen in a year and a half, took me out to Olive Garden. After having been a major person in my life for a very long time, he and my mother got divorced the spring of my freshman year at U of M. I hadn't seen him since because I've been far too self-absorbed and busy to really make it work, but I guess moving to Germany opened up my eyes a bit. And maturing, which I have been doing a bit off this summer.
It was wonderful seeing him, and I can rest a bit easier knowing he's doing well. I know the divorce was hard on both of them, but I've been able to watch my mother move on. I haven't been able to see how he's been doing. Also, compliments from him about how I've grown and what I've accomplished really mean a lot. He's watched me grow up, and I hope he knows that he can take some credit for the person I've become. Now I can feel a little better about running off to Europe.
Enough of this Internet schtuff. I accidentally dropped $100 at Borders on Monday night. (Accidentally, Daddy. I promise.) I have a beautiful stack of new books to dive into. Love in the Time of Cholera or Invisible Cities?
Mmm.

Aller Anfang ist schwer

2006-08-07T14:29:00.000-07:00

I am moving to Freiburg, Germany in 25 days. I will live there, as a student, for 48 weeks.

I have yet to really figure out how I feel about this ordeal. I like being able to properly classify my emotions and fit them into convenient little boxes, so I can anticipate how I will react when another similar scenario arises. Of course, this never works. Every situation seems to blindside me. I never know how strongly I'll feel about something until it's suddenly smacking me in the face and I'm a mess of tears and babble. That's what I think scares me the most. This is all going to hit me at once as soon as I turn to board that plane and I lose sight of my parents.
Of course, I wouldn't necessarily say being a ticking time-bomb of emotions is unlucky, or in any way bad. Sometimes it is rather inconvenient, but I enjoy being me. I, unlike the majority of my classmates and peers, am able and willing to move my entire life across an ocean for a year. And as my mother says, I've been destined to do this. I will not be scared. I will not be scared. Oh boy.

I am Rebecca Patterson. I am ambitious, creative, dramatic, and very forward. I am 20 years old and am entering my 3rd year at the University of Michigan, with a major in German and a minor in Moral & Political Philosophy. No, I have no clue as to what I'm going to do with my life, but I'm not going to worry about it just yet. For now, I plan on going and running around Europe until I "find myself" and after that, I'll trust instinct. Good plan, eh? Maybe I'm screwed, but at least I'll be bilingual.
My two most favorite things ever are Literature and Music. I am horribly obsessed with both, as anyone around me can tell you. One might wonder why I'm not an English major, or a Music major. We'll touch on that for another time, because I'll probably get overly passionate about it and start crying right here. That wouldn't be any good, considering I am at a public computing site. Oh, crying probably ranks at #3 on my favorite things list. Or boys.
Anyway, my biggest concern about going to Germany is my horrible fear of actually speaking in German. I'm what you would call a Grammar Nazi, and it's so much easier to double check yourself if the language is nicely written out in front of you. Conjugations and prepositions get so much trickier when you're letting things fly off your tongue. I think for my first month in Freiburg I will be mute. Great. I'll be the weird, quiet American girl. Then I'll start babbling in German and I'm sure I'll butcher everything. Maybe the country will throw me out. Hey, I could always end up in France, no?
I've grown up so in love with the English language, which I will blame on my parents. I've been writing and reading religiously since I was 5. My most prized possessions are my journals, which I have been keeping since I was 10, and have never failed to leave my side. All of my money goes to both new and used books. Once in awhile I'll go buy clothes or jewelry, like most girls my age, but they just feel so...boring after awhile. This next year, I feel like I'll be abandoning my beloved English language. Of course, I love German too, but for different reasons. German is so seductive and dramatic. English is honest and easy. It's as if English has been my devoted wife for years, and German is my mistress. I doubt that will make any sense to anyone, but it fits to me. So, I'm taking off with the mistress and am stepping completely out of my comfort zone. Maybe I am a masochist, but this should be fun.
Alright. That feels like enough of an introduction. If yee plan to be faithful readers, heed my warning: I am random as all hell. This is not meant to be the Great American Novel. It's going to be my space to rant for the next year or so, and at times it will be difficult for both of us. Let's both not expect too much and we'll come out fine.
And now, Chris is forcing me to go get sushi with him. Bah life is sooo difficult.